They’d spent the better part of a week burying bodies without saying more than a few words to each other. At first, Jherog had felt it as tension, an awkward and very uncomfortable silence. But each night, Devra lay next to him, resting peacefully, holding his hand, her beautiful hair tangled around her body. Her delicate and soft face was calm and peaceful. Her lips, though dry and cracked, were still plump. Her thin body got thinner as the days passed. He’d watch her and feel a longing he couldn’t explain. Though her behavior instilled some fear in him, he couldn’t deny he felt more of a pull toward her. A strong mix of wanting to protect her, and simply wanting her. But, he held himself back. What would Derina say, he asked himself each time. After all, deep down, and always, he was hers. Perhaps his mind was confusing the two. They looked so much alike, though he’d never seen Derina in such a state as he continued witnessing Devra every day. So angry. So lost. So determined. Derina had been much more calm. Even-tempered. Carefree. But then, Derina had never faced a fraction of what Devra had.
He watched Devra sleep, wanting to help soothe her, but unsure how. He began to feel lost himself, and frankly alone, lonely even. Thankfully, Derina had begun visiting him in his dreams. They had deep, and meaningful conversations as though the years apart meant nothing to either of them. The dreams of Derina used to be the cause of sleepless nights, but now, they were a haven. He woke each morning feeling refreshed and at peace. But then Devra would alter the course of his mood with her anger. He watched her now, sitting across the table from him, quietly eating her stew and bread.
”What is it?” she broke into his thoughts. She looked up at him and smiled. ”I can feel you each time you’re watching me, you know?” She smirked. ”You do it a lot.”
”Sorry,” he smiled back at her, embarrassed. ”I’m just…”
”Worried?” she asked, her tone showing some frustration. He shook his head, no.
”Perhaps a little,” he confessed and she rolled her eyes and smiled.
”What must I do to prove to you that I am fine?” They stared at each other and he finally shrugged. ”I know you love me, Jherog,” she said, though he hadn’t repeated it since that night by the fire. ”And I know you want to protect me and shelter me from life, but you can’t.” He nodded. She motioned around them, beyond the burned-down walls and into the village. ”This is life,” she insisted. He absorbed their surroundings, the wreckage of a village once abundant with life. He could almost hear the echoes of voices and laughter that had once filled the tavern they were now sitting in. The clinking of glasses of ale as friends cheered one another on for their accomplishments and successes. He felt a strange shiver come over him and he looked back at Devra.
”Why are we still here?” They’d finished burying the last of the bodies the day before yesterday and yet, Devra had insisted they remain a little while longer.
“I told you, I’m meant to be here,” she explained, as though it made sense.
”Indefinitely?”
”Of course not,” she shook her head, no. ”I just… I’m not ready to leave.” He wanted to ask her to explain herself further but decided against it. It was simply easier to allow Devra her wants and needs, confusing as they may be. Otherwise, they’d end up in an argument and she’d end up in tears. He would comfort her and hold her in his arms, and his complicated feelings for her would surface and he’d back off to keep them under control. It was a vicious cycle. One he couldn’t seem to avoid unless he simply gave in to her wants and needs. So he nodded, hesitantly. She sighed and reached for his hand across the table. ”I feel like I’m meant to be here. Just for a little while longer.” He looked down at her hand, wishing so much it was Derina’s. He finally took it in his and squeezed it, nodding once more.
The next couple of days went by very slowly. Devra seemed to want to be left alone. He often left her sitting in front of and staring into a fire. He’d hoped she’d open up to him, tell him what she was thinking, feeling, or planning…whatever it was she was doing, but each meal and each night, she revealed nothing. So, Jherog explored the village and searched through buildings left standing for supplies and things that might prove useful when they were to continue their journey.
He entered a mostly still standing home, at the edge of the village, that was quite large. The kitchen was the largest he’d ever seen in a home before. Perhaps they’d been the village baker. He walked through to a large pantry at the back. It was filled with all kinds of grain, nuts, and jugs of preserved food. What luck, he smiled and began looking through them. This store of food would certainly be helpful to sustain them as he and Devra continued traveling. He exited the home and made note of where it was, though it was one of the few with a floor intact. He jogged back to find Devra still sitting by the fire. He slowed and approached her quietly, not wanting to alarm her. Apparently, she heard him as she turned toward him, an indifferent look on her face.
”What is it?” she asked.
”I’ve found food,” he told her. ”Lots of portable items to take with us along the road.”
”Very good,” she said and turned back to the fire. He’d hoped she would be more pleased.
“It could be enough to sustain us until we find a new home.” Silence.
”Find us a wagon,” she commanded. ”One with cover.”
”We’ve been through the whole village,” he reminded her. ”The only thing with wheels was the farmer's cart we found.”
”Convert it then. We will need it.” He wanted to ask questions. He wanted to talk about her thoughts, and her plans but remained silent. He didn’t want to upset her.
It took him the better part of three days to makeshift a wagon as per her expectations. When he’d thought he’d finished the third time, Devra had finally made it clear what she wanted. Something of a makeshift home on wheels. He’d never seen anything like it, but rose to the challenge to give her what she wanted. He foraged for canvas and other cloth to create the large dome over the top for shelter and hunted for usable wood, and branches of the Fellig tree, to build up the sides of the wagon, and create the arch needed to lift the canvas above their heads. By the end, he was very proud of what he’d made.
It was tall, but not too long or wide to hinder their speed should they need it. Jherog could almost stand under the makeshift shelter as the wooden sides came up to just above his hip. A couple of the panels could be shifted, to create windows, should they want or need them. It also helped with light as most of the cloth he’d recovered was quite dark. The long and thin branches of the Felligs worked brilliantly to form the arch he wanted. Devra would most certainly be able to stand as she was much smaller than he.
He’d hoped to create a typical door for the back but had come across a great deal of difficulty and so finally settled with one that could be lifted and lowered. It worked very well as he’d nailed a couple of random pieces to create a makeshift step for Devra, to ease her climb into it.
Recognizing it wasn’t a very large surface area, not leaving a lot of room for supplies, he’d found a heavy piece of canvas and secured it between the two posts that would attach to the horses. It created a large pouch to carry extra supplies they couldn’t fit in the wagon as they slept.
He stepped back and admired his work. He’d forgotten how much he’d enjoyed working with wood. It had been so long. Since before the attack on Grindl almost two years ago! It was like his life there, as a woodcutter and shaper, had been in another age. Though the feel of the wood, the skill to shape it had come back easily, it felt strange to him. However, he’d always loved it, and back in the day, it had provided him with reason to meet with Derina though she was joined by Grodan. She’d invited him several times to their home to fix furniture and build items. It had been clear to Jherog, that she’d liked his company and was making excuses to see him. Remembering as such made his heart flutter.
He was pleased when Devra looked over the wagon and smiled. He honestly couldn’t remember the last time she’d smiled at him in such a way. Or thanked him. It felt good to not only accomplish and complete the project but to know it was what Devra wanted, and it made her happy. He felt like that was his only goal now, to protect, serve, and make Devra happy. Just like her mother before her.
That night, as they readied to sleep in the small cottage they’d found, Jherog was nervous to get into bed. Nighttime was the most challenging time with Devra. When she was asleep, he felt most drawn to her, felt such desire it was hard to control. He’d tried to make excuses and insist on sleeping apart, but Devra wouldn’t have any of it. He was surprised she couldn’t see his turmoil, feel his anxiety and unrest. But each night, she climbed into the bed, bade him a good sleep, and fell into a deep sleep next to him.
She smiled down at him as she removed layers of her clothing, leaving only her undershirt on.
“It’s warm,” she explained. He took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves and keep from looking at her. She climbed in next to him. He felt her foot brush against his leg as she ushered herself in. ”Won’t you be too warm in your clothes?” she asked him. ”I don’t mind if you want to get down to your undergarments.” He shook his head no and pulled at the neck of his shirt. When had it gotten so warm? He suddenly felt as though he were sweating profusely. She moved around, trying to get comfortable, and stopped to look at him. ”Are you well?” He looked at her and feigned a smile.
”Fine,” he lied. He couldn’t very well tell her what he was battling at that moment. ”Just tired. Anxious for some sleep.” It was true. He wanted to see Derina as soon as possible. Devra nodded and maneuvered her way into his arm, resting her head on his shoulder.
”Me too,” she whispered. He reached for the lantern next to the bed and extinguished it. Though darkness was immediate, it didn’t take long for the moon to make light of things around him. He could see the outline of the doorway and the broken table across the room. He could feel Devra inching closer to him, but he kept his eyes on the ceiling.
It felt like hours had passed when he finally believed Devra was asleep. Her breathing slowed and became rhythmic and he gently ushered her off of him. He pushed her shoulders away and then turned to gently lay her head on her pillow. He moved to look away but the moonlight suddenly grew brighter, hitting her face and mane of gorgeous red hair. He could see her face and her body perfectly. She looked so much like her mother. Her undershirt had risen enough so he could see her hip. Without thinking, he extended his hand and touched it. It was smooth. He let his hand travel down the side of her leg. It almost felt like an out-of-body experience. He was watching himself do it, feeling a mix of excitement and fear. Suddenly, Derina’s face entered his thoughts. He pulled his hand away and rolled onto his back. He took deep breaths, trying to calm his nerves. How he wished Derina were here. He felt the gentle pull of sleep when suddenly he heard a strange sound, like a moan. He sat up, waiting to hear it again. And there it was. Had it come from Devra? He turned to her and saw her head slowly moving back and forth. Her face was twisted in confusion. He leaned down to her, resting his hand on her shoulder.
”Devra?” he whispered. She moaned again and then began shaking her head faster.
”No,” she mumbled. He quickly removed his hand, afraid she’d felt him and was upset because of it. ”Don’t.” He inched his face closer but refrained from touching her.
”Devra!” he whispered a little louder. ”You’re dreaming.” He jumped back as she suddenly rolled onto her back and her body went rigid. Her breath quickened and her eyes popped open. He watched as flames in her eyes flickered and grew to fill her irises completely. Her mouth was agape. She choked out strange noises and he felt frightened. He got onto his knees and tried to shake her. ”Devra!” he yelled, but she didn’t respond.
”I can’t… please…” she was struggling to speak and to breathe. He took her head in his hands and tried to force her to look at him, to no avail. It was like her eyes weren’t her own anymore. They simply shifted in all directions too fast to follow. He tried shaking her some more, but it did nothing. He finally jumped to the other side of the bed, standing at her side, and tried to lift her, but she began to flail and hit him right in the face. He stepped back from the sudden pain but moved back to her side immediately.
”Devra! What’s happening???” She didn’t respond but kept flailing, her eyes of fire wide open, her mouth open in a silent scream. He tried to lift her again, but it was too dangerous with her flailing. He could too easily drop her. Before he could move away though, she hit him again, this time in the throat. It was suddenly difficult to breathe. He grabbed at his throat, an instinctual reaction, and coughed until the pain dissipated and his breath came back to him. When he finally looked back at Devra, she was shaking more violently. He quickly looked around for something, anything to help. There was nothing within reach. He quickly processed his thoughts, trying to think of anything that might help her and end this episode. The fire in her eyes grew brighter. Water, he suddenly thought. He needed to pour water over her. Perhaps that would wake her from the nightmare, or whatever she was experiencing. He moved to leave, but when he reached the door, Devra began screaming.
”NOOOOO!!!!” she wailed, so loudly it almost hurt Jherog’s ears. ”Don’t leave me!” Without hesitation, he ran back to her side. He felt helpless as he continued watching her convulse and scream in front of him. Her head suddenly turned toward him and her flame-ridden eyes bore into his own. ”Jheeeeerrrrroooooooog…” she whispered and then suddenly stopped. Her eyes closed, her mouth shut, and her breath returned to normal. Hesitant, he watched her, afraid of touching her. Afraid of what would happen. Slowly, he reached out his hand and gently rested it on her cheek.
”Devra?” he whispered. Her face was cold and wet. His eyes moved down her body and found much the same. Her undershirt clung to her from the dampness, but he felt nothing but fear and worry as Devra remained still. He gently grabbed her shoulder and shook her. ”Devra?” Her eyes suddenly opened and she gasped for air. She sat up and Jherog kept hold of her shoulder, still filled with fear but now a sense of relief also. He quickly took her in his arms, releasing a big sigh. ”Thank the stars.” He pulled back from her and she looked up at him, confused.
”Jherog?” she asked, but her voice sounded changed. Jherog nodded.
”It’s me,” he assured her.
”Where am I?” she looked around. Something about her was definitely different. ”What is this place?” She looked back at him and his smile disappeared. Her eyes. The fire was gone, but so were the lost and angry eyes he’d grown accustomed to. ”Where is Grodan?”
”Grodan? Your father?”
”My father? What… Jherog what is this? Where have you taken me?”
”You must need to rest,” he whispered, gently pushing her, coaxing her to lay back down.
“Don’t tell me what to do,” she shot a nasty glare at him. He quickly removed his hands from her body and backed away. Her face suddenly smoothed out and gave him a small smile. ”Where have you taken me?” She looked around, a strange smirk creeping onto her lips. ”Did you bring a bed into the old Terbit farmhouse?“ Jherog looked at her, confused. Terbit farm was back in Grindl.
“Terbit farmhouse? What are you talking about?”
“You did all this for me?” She inched closer to him and began playing with his shirt. His instincts told him to stand up, to move away, but he couldn’t seem to make his body do so. “We better be somewhat quick about it, but we’ve got time,” she said and then moved to kiss him, but somehow he inched away. She looked at him, confused. ”What are you doing?” He couldn’t find words. ”Don’t you want me?” He took a deep breath and found himself nodding before he realized.
”That’s not the point,” he told her. He stood and moved a step back from the bed as her eyes followed him. She moved to get on her knees.
”You’re concerned about Grodan?” she huffed. ”He’ll never know.” She walked off the bed and towards him, setting one foot on the floor, then the other. She came closer and kissed him. Her lips were harsh against his, but the pressure was soft and inviting. She kept her face up close as she began pulling on the ties of his shirt, then his trousers. ”Rhosh and Daline are playing with Darus and Jirelle. We have some time.” She kissed him again and he felt her tongue gently push it’s way into his mouth. He welcomed it, finding it hard to resist until her words truly hit him. He gently pushed her away.
”Rhosh and Daline? Devra…” Had she forgotten her brother and sister were dead? How could that be? She suddenly looked upset.
”Devra? Who is Devra?” she asked, stepping back from him. “Is there another besides me?” Silence. ”Jherog? I thought… I mean…” She began to cry. ”I should have known,” she began, her voice hardening. ”I’m just some woman to you, aren’t I? You’ve likely got a few of us over Grindl, haven’t you?” He couldn’t help but feel he needed to explain himself.
”No, no!” He told her. She looked at him, her eyes filled with tears and hope.
”Then tell me you love me.” He hesitated.
”I care for you a great deal,” he began and she scoffed at him, turning away. She continued crying quietly as he watched, uncertain what to do. She finally turned to him, sniffling.
”I know it hurt when I married Grodan,” she began. ”But I thought you understood that I hadn’t a choice.“ She stepped closer to him. ”I thought you understood that if I’d had the choice, it would have been you.” She pressed her body up against his and brought his lips down to hers. The kiss was soft at first but then grew in intensity and passion. She grabbed his hand and brought it to her backside, encouraging him to squeeze it. When he did, she moaned. She brought her head to the side of his as she nibbled his ear. ”Say it,” she whispered. ”Say, I love you…”
“I love you…” he whispered in return as she brought her hands to the ties on his trousers.
”Derina…” she whispered and began kissing him again. His brain told him to stop, that what was happening wasn’t making any sense, but by the time he could’ve listened, things had gone too far. He pulled his face back to look into her eyes. They were deep blue eyes, just as he remembered them.
”I love you, Derina,” he whispered and she pulled him back onto the bed.
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Ⓒ February 2023. Beki Lantos. All Rights Reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, or transmitted in any form by any means without prior written permission of the author.