Chapter 8: ...and the morning

The Darromere River lay in front of her like a glittering snake, worming its way into the green fields of Hillsbrad. The air was cool with the breeze from the snowy mountains but it did not stop Lainne as she undressed furiously, throwing everything she wore into a pile. She plunged into the freezing water, and the sensation nearly knocked the breath out of her. Panting and gasping she scrubbed herself frantically, wishing she could be somehow erase his touch from her skin.

She cursed as she washed, bitter words pouring from her lips. Her skin had nearly turned blue with hypothermia when she finally climbed back on the river’s bank to dry and put on her clothing. Only to discover it still bore some of Eireannan’s scent…Her knees gave up and she had to sit.

He had woken well before sunrise. She was fully awake as well yet pretended to sleep, afraid to look in his eyes…afraid to face the consequences of what she had done.

Moving in silence, he had gathered his belongings then knelt by her side, if only for a moment. His frame blocked the light from the entrance, a long strand of dark hair resting on her face as he bent over and his lips touched briefly her neck, tasting the beats of her heart.

“Damn it!”

Lainné cradled her knees blinking away tears of frustration. She couldn’t figure it out yet what bothered her more: the fact that he was stranger, a warlock - or that she had surrendered so easily.
That thought made her sneer.

It had only been a night. A pleasurable one. That was all. Nothing more about it.

The wind blowing from the north brought a sudden strange smell of rotten and decaying things.

Reminded how close to Tarren Mill she was, Lainne rebounded to her feet and started to stuff soap and towel into her bag. The last thing she needed after the previous night was an encounter with one of the living dead. She would just follow the river down to Southshore, she decided after briefly considering the alternatives. The notes in her pockets had to reach the Archbishop as soon as possible.

Hiking the damn skirts to her knees she started to walk.