Yuragwyn: Ours

---Chapter 4

₰Traugott₰

I wake to a fist banging on our door. The sound jars my headache, but I must get up and protect Briallen and Calanthe. Even as I think it, though, I laugh dryly to myself. I can do nothing but surrender my life first. So much for my promises to protect them.

Both girls rise as well, standing behind me, and I hold my hands at my sides in fists, waiting for the guard to burst through.

"Traugott?" A sickeningly familiar voice chews through the wood. "We bring clothes and breakfast."

"You may enter," I reply slowly.

The door swings inward and reveals a chuckling Cyneric, flanked by three guards carrying the promised supplies. They file in and drop their goods on the table or in our arms. "Well, of course I may. I do not need your permission, Traugott. You're the prisoners, remember? Tell me, how do you find your accommodations?"

I eye him closely. "They will suffice."

Cyneric appears not to hear me and directs his attention to Briallen. "Now, which one are you again? The younger one, right? You are going to answer for attempting to poison the pegasuses. Follow me."

I reach out to restrain her, but she pushes past my arm and follows Cyneric down the long hall, head high, and arms crossed. She never does listen to me.

"I'm worried for her, Traugott," Calanthe whispers. "She will not help herself in the least. What will they do to her?"

"I know not."

∞Kaitra∞

My heart falls to the fern-spotted forest floor. I am in Yuragwyn again.

I must go, must tell Lord Cadfael and Lady Carys about Traugott and Calanthe and Briallen. They deserve to know what has happened to them. Closure, at least, might nurse a few open wounds.

I get clumsily to my feet and tie my dagger to the underside of this overcoat. I refuse to let it out of my sight, for it is my escape from hardships. Once my tale is done, I can use it to get home again. I find my footing and make my way towards the sound of rushing water. The leaves on the trees are full size, broad, and woody-green, and they brush my cheeks as I thread my way, hopefully, in the right direction. Roots stub my toes and twinge my ankles as I rush past them, but I must grit my teeth and continue on. I must get this tale off my conscience so I can rest.

The edge of the Yaywah comes into view between the trunks at its edge. The waters pile by, frothing at the tips like a pack of rabid dogs. I skirt their bite and search for the poles on which to cross. Across the river I can see Cordina. Its wall is battered, its gate is bent, but it still stands. I only hope I am not too late.

Finally, I manage to catch sight of the poles and begin the harrowing cross to the other side. If I fall in the river, I shall surely be swept away to goodness knows where and not be able to get to the city or Lord Cadfael and Lady Carys. Each foot fall slides a bit on the wood before it catches, and I try to set my foot slightly to the right of the pole so the small carry will land me squarely in the middle.

I collapse onto the dry ground on the opposite bank and lie there for a moment while my heart rate drops to normal. I don't want to get up and face them, but I certainly don't want to make the trip back across to the tree. Could they not learn how to build a proper bridge? I must keep going.