Page 82 of The Maiden

There was no sign of Jura or Geralt in the corridor but there were several Ulten women removing tapestries from the walls. They paused and glared at Rowan in hatred. Yesterday he had been a god and today he was demon.

He gave the women a tentative little smile and hurried past them. It wasn’t difficult to see Jura and Geralt, since they were a foot taller than the Ulten women. Jura was bodily protecting her brother and trying to talk to the women, but no one understood her.

“Marek is getting away with the gold!” Rowan shouted in Ulten, but got no response. “Marek is taking the children!” He had to repeat himself a few times as he pointed toward Marek’s quarters in the north end of the palace, but he was able to turn the crowd’s attention away from Jura and Geralt.

“I knew you would come,” Jura said, smiling at him. “You should have gone with the others but I knew you would not.”

“Follow me,” Rowan ordered, “and do not do anything foolish.” He gave an angry look at the sword she had taken from the walls. “Do not hurt any of my people.”

“These people tried to kill me,” Geralt said. “I think—”

“Quiet!” Jura ordered. “And follow King Rowan.”

Rowan blinked a couple of times at her words, then began to lead them through the shoving women. Every time a group of women stopped and stared at them, Rowan yelled, “Marek,” and pointed toward the bowels of the castle.

They made it almost to the city gates before the women turned on them.

“There are two of them!” a woman yelled.

“They have kept us prisoners. They have denied us husbands and children. We will kill them and free ourselves.”

The women stood in front of the open gateway while other women tried to shove the heavy gates closed.

“Run!” Rowan ordered, “and kill no one.”

Jura was not attacked but the men were. Out of instinct, she protected Rowan’s body with her own as the women used what weapons they had. Rowan had his head down, trying to protect himself from the blows and so did not see Geralt knock one woman after another down. Jura knew that Rowan’s love for his people extended to protecting them at the cost of his own skin.

They made it through the gate and the women chased them for a while but not for long as Jura, Geralt, and Rowan made their way toward the mountains.

After nearly an hour of running, they stopped for breath. “We must find the others,” Jura said, and only then did she look at Rowan. His pale skin was white and beneath his cloak was a growing bloodstain. And his bare feet were also bleeding.

Jura put her arms around him in a motherly way and bade him to sit down.

“I must—”

“No,” she said softly, “you have done enough for now. It is time that you allowed others to help you.” She looked up at Geralt. “Go ahead and find the others. Tell them that our king is injured and tell them to send Daire to find Brita.” She looked back at Rowan. “If that is what you think we should do. I mean—”

Rowan leaned forward and kissed her. “It is my idea also, and since we are one it does not matter who says the idea.”

“Jura, I—” Geralt began.

“Go!” Jura snapped. “You have caused enough trouble. Tomorrow you may thank our king for your life.”

Reluctantly, Geralt turned away, up the path to look for the others.

“Jura, I am not hurt so much,” Rowan said softly. “You can bandage me and I can travel.”

Tenderly, she used Rowan’s knife to cut away his tunic and examine the shoulder wound he had received from an ax blade.

Rowan put his hand to her face. “You have called me king and Lanconian. Do you mean to say that you love me? Do you hope for my death so that you may marry Daire?”

She looked long and hard into his blue eyes. “I was raised by Thal to think of war first and I loved Daire because he caused me no conflict of interest. With Daire I would have chosen Lanconia over my marriage. But you have always confused me. You have shown me real love: a love for my country that goes beyond war and a love for a man that is…”

“Is what?”

“A love that permeates me.” She put both hands on his face. “Rowan, my husband, if you were to die, I think my soul should die too. For every drop of blood that comes from your wound, my heart sheds an equal amount. This…this pain I feel when I am near you, I did not know it was love.”

He kissed her softly. “I feel I have earned your love, Jura. I have suffered and bled and withstood great abuse to gain your love.”