So I Married a Sorcerer (The Embraced #2)(113)
He snorted, then kissed the top of her head. “I’ll do better in the future. You deserve more than a cave.”
She smiled to herself. “I loved it.” A setting like this would have been exactly what she’d have chosen for one of her overly dramatic stories.
“No matter what happens tomorrow,” he whispered, “don’t leave me.”
Chapter Thirty
The next morning, Brigitta woke up alone, and her heart sank with disappointment. How could Rupert beg her not to leave him, then turn around and leave her behind? As she dressed, she winced at the soreness between her legs and grew increasingly annoyed. Did Rupert expect her to hide like a frightened rabbit whenever danger was near?
When she strode into the clearing, she was surprised by the chill in the air. Goodness, it had been warmer in the cave. She pulled the hood of her cloak over her head.
Stefan was sitting by the campfire with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. “Good morning.” His breath vaporized in the icy air.
“Good morning.” With a shudder, she hurried across the clearing to some bushes where she could relieve herself. Afterward, she rinsed her hands and washed her face in the small pool beneath the waterfall. Only a trickle was landing in the pool now, for most of the waterfall had frozen over, making the cliff wall glisten with icicles.
“Come and eat.” Stefan motioned to a copper pot by the campfire. “I’ve been keeping the oatmeal warm for you.”
“Thank you.” She settled close to the fire and dipped a wooden spoon into the pot. “Where is Rupert? And Brody?”
“Brody’s an eagle for now.” Stefan pointed up at the sky. “I need to collect more firewood. Do you mind being alone for a little while? You won’t really be alone. Brody will be watching over you.”
She glanced up to see the eagle circling above them. Far off, she heard the screech of a dragon. “I’ll be fine.” She ate some oatmeal. “Where is Rupert?”
“Up the trail by the gorge. It’s so narrow there, he can see the captain and the general on the other side. They’re trying to lure a dragon in close enough to attack.”
Brigitta swallowed hard. “Is Rupert planning to kill a dragon? I suppose he could use his wind power…”
“Killing a dragon would only anger the Norveshki and prolong the war with them. Rupert would rather Tourin be at peace.” Stefan sighed. “Unfortunately, taking over a country’s throne is rarely a peaceful process.”
Brigitta set down her spoon. She was losing her appetite.
“Stay here.” Stefan rose to his feet and handed her the blanket. “I’ll be back soon.”
As she wrapped the blanket around her shoulders, she wondered how Rupert was faring. It had to be even colder up on the cliff with the wind whistling through the gorge.
A few flakes of snow floated down, melting into raindrops as they neared the campfire. Was it snowing on Rupert? He needed the oilcloth to stay warm and dry.
She rose to her feet. This was something she could do.
Her heart pounding with excitement, she readied her supplies—the oilcloth from the cave and a canteen filled with water. She wrapped a piece of dried beef in a handkerchief and slipped it into the pocket of her green woolen skirt.
As she headed up the path to the cliff, the air grew colder and the wind stronger. A dragon screeched overhead, and she spotted it, circling above the gorge. An answering shriek came from another dragon she could barely see in the distance.
The one overhead swooped down suddenly. Its black scales gleamed an iridescent purple and green in the morning sun. Such a beautiful creature. Its wingspan was enormous, its eyes golden as they fastened on her.
She froze, frightened for a moment that it might unleash a torrent of fire at her. But maybe this was the dragon that had saved her yesterday. With a tentative smile, she waved a hand in greeting.
With a screech, it shot up into the sky.
She took a deep breath. Safe, for now. As she continued her climb up the steep, narrow path, she began to suspect that the dragon had checked her for weapons. She doubted she looked like much of a threat. But Rupert might, since he was probably armed.
The air grew more frigid, and flurries of snow swept around her. She draped the oilcloth around her shoulders, holding it tight in her fists as the wind snapped at it. The trees became more stunted and gnarled, a sure sign that it was hard for them to grow this high on the mountain. Even she was finding it difficult to get enough air.
She eased around a curve and stopped in amazement as the gorge finally came into view. The wind burst through the narrow opening with so much power, no trees had been able to survive. Between cracks in the rocks, a few scraggly bushes had emerged, most of their leaves blown away and the twigs outlined with white snow. Large boulders had fallen onto the path, and by peering between two of them she could see the cliff on the north side.
Captain Mador and General Tarvis were there, shouting and shooting arrows at the dragon overhead.
Keeping low, she maneuvered up the rocky path to the cliff on the south side of the gorge. There she spotted Rupert, hunched down behind some boulders. Snowflakes flurried around him, some sticking to the brown wool of his hooded cloak.
Her feet crunched on some gravel, and he turned toward her. His eyes flared with emotion. He looked angry that she had come, but there was also hunger in his gaze. Perhaps, like her, he was remembering what had occurred the night before. He put a finger to his mouth to signal silence, then gestured for her to keep low.