Page 67
Story: Snow Bound
Sometimes they ran in silence. At other times, they slowed and spoke quietly of what they had endured. When Gytha asked, Alexander said that Javethai’s magic had been cruel,freezing his blood with every step and driving him onward, though his urgency had needed no outside force. He had grown so accustomed to the pain that it was strange and startling to feel only the wild strength of his bear form.
Chapter 17
They reached the mountains north of Elestar after nearly three weeks of travel, for they slowed when they reached the warmer, inhabited lands. The air was almost balmy in their bear forms, and they switched to human forms with a sense of relief. They made a fire and ate, speaking quietly to each other. Their conversations were strangely tentative, for in all their time together, they had seldom talked of what might come, of feelings or hopes or dreams. Yet for all their shyness, each was sure of their own feelings, and so they came to a quiet, warm sense of comfort as they walked together toward Elestar.
It was late spring by now, and the golden sun felt like a blessing from the Creator. The road from the mountains wound down through the foothills toward Elestar, the capital city on the coast that Alexander remembered as his home so long ago.At last, when they reached the top of a hill, he pointed to the distant cliff, and Gytha could see the glint of glass in the castle windows. From this distance, the castle could barely be seen otherwise, for on this eastern side it was more cliff than structure.
The road was wide and well-maintained, and Gytha felt that she was entering yet another alien world, so different was this than anything she had ever seen before. The thick northern forests were long behind them, and they walked between prosperous farms on either side, with wide strips of trees to manage the wind and irrigation channels sometimes visible in on the lower hillsides. Gytha looked upon it all in admiration; fat, contented cows grazed in rich fields of grass and clover, and sheep dotted the hillsides. Everywhere was abundance, and she imagined the harvest of such a country must be rich indeed.
Alexander’s eyes shone with emotion when he looked at the castle, and she did not press him too much to talk. Gytha’s heart went out to him; how strange and terrible must the icy far north have been to him! Gytha had always known the North Lands, but his prison had been even farther north, in an even more cruel and inhospitable land. If he had known this comfortable abundance as home, it must have seemed like a death to be there, alone and forgotten.
Just before noon, they approached the outskirts of the city and stopped to eat lunch. Alexander lay their thick coats upon the ground and they sat on them to eat, looking at the stone buildings spreading out before them. Their travel had been long and tiring, and although Gytha did not know what would come, she was glad to sit down and eat a good meal before entering the city.
The sun was warm upon their shoulders and the tops of their heads, and Gytha closed her eyes. “The sun is just marvelous.”
Alexander lay back upon the grass and closed his eyes. “I had forgotten what it felt like on my skin.”
Gytha lay down beside him. “You should eat a little more.”
“I’m too nervous to eat,” he admitted almost inaudibly. “Whoever is king won’t believe me when I say who I am, and if he does believe me, he has every reason to want me dead.” He swallowed and continued without looking at her. “I trusted my brother without question, but so much time has passed. I don’t know this king.”
In silence Gytha pondered this. She knew she was ignorant of politics, of kings and powers and borders. On the journey, she had asked him a little about his country, Eleria, and he had told her that the place she had lived was claimed by Eleria, but since it was on the far side of the mountains, it had been essentially autonomous for many years. Boravia, to the south, had little interest in the cold, sparsely populated stretches of tundra and dense forest. Gytha had understood all this to mean that she was Alexander’s countrywoman, if she belonged to any country at all, and that Elestar was her own capital city. How strange to think that she somehow had a connection to this place! It felt nearly as strange as the ice goblin city.
They slipped through the outskirts of the city and Alexander led her to the castle built into the great seaside cliff. Some of the streets were different, but many were the same, for the houses and shops were built of long-lasting stone and the cobbled streets would last for generations.
At the gate of the palace, Alexander raised his chin, threw his shoulders back, and strode up to the guard. “I request an audience with His Majesty.”
The guard frowned. “What is your purpose?”
“It is a matter of discretion.”
The guard’s eyes narrowed, but he said, “His Majesty? Not Her Highness?”
Alexander hesitated. “Yes, with His Majesty, the king. The monarch and ruler.”
The guard swept a thoughtful gaze over Alexander and then turned his attention to Gytha. She tried not to look as nervous as she felt.
“Very well,” the guard said, somewhat to Gytha’s surprise.
The two were escorted through the gate, across an open courtyard, through an enormous set of doors inlaid with gold, and through several hallways to a spacious sitting room with no windows.
The room was dazzling in its opulence, with thick, intricately woven rugs on the floor, couches and chairs upholstered in silk in colors like the brightest flowers, and a fireplace laid with logs. Everywhere Gytha looked, there was some new wonder! There were paintings on the walls, and little wooden obscurities, and a set of vases made of the most delicate porcelain and glazed in the color of a stormy sky. She clasped her hands behind her back and turned on her heel, trying to see every corner of the room without giving any reason for anyone to think she had touched or damaged a single thing. Being surrounded by such wonders felt perilous, as if at any moment she might be held responsible for breaking some priceless artifact.
A quarter of an hour passed before a maid came in. “I am sorry for the wait. It will be a little while longer. I’ve brought refreshments for you.” She put a tray of fruit and little pastries on a table, curtsied, and slipped out the door again, closing it behind herself.
Alexander stood over the tray as if in wonder. He offered Gytha the tray first, and then took a slice of juicy green fruit between finger and thumb. He smelled it first, closing his eyes. He put it in his mouth.
“You must have missed this.” Most of the fruits were strange to Gytha, but they must taste like Alexander’s childhood. The green fruit was indeed delicious, but the pink one with tiny black seeds was even sweeter.
“I did.” He said no more, but she could see his mask of control was thin.
It was another hour before the door opened again.
A pretty young woman swept in with two guards behind her, a man nearing thirty and a younger one, clearly lower in rank. The young lady looked not much older than Gytha, perhaps twenty-one or twenty-two. She wore a simple but lovely dress that set off her warm olive skin and dark hair. Her dark eyes shone in the lamplight.
“His Majesty is engaged in other business at the moment. May I help you?” She smiled kindly.
Alexander hesitated. “I think this is a matter for His Majesty. I can wait.” He bowed.
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