The Girl In The Red Cloak Ch 05

Sorry for the delay... I just kept thinking about this unfinished story out there, needing the rest of it. So here's the next chapter.

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Chapter 5

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Clara leaned against the oak tree with one hand, the other to her head. She was shaking, her nerves a mess after the attack, despite the false bravado she'd shown Lukas. Could she really do this? She wanted to follow Lukas, to do her part in ending this war, but the trembling of her body made her doubt her ability to carry on. She was not especially brave, nor was she skilled in fighting. Her heart hammered against her ribs, the tree bark scratchy under her shaking hand. Perhaps she'd been a fool to dream she could be of help. Aside from the freedom to walk where she pleased and find a welcome, she had little to offer Lukas on his quest. What if there was another attack, and Lukas was injured trying to protect her? That could be the end of his quest, and the effort to end the war.

Then there was the matter of just letting those men die. She'd never been able to sit back and watch a man die, not without wanting to help him, or having administered the Healer's Kiss to him. How could this be? Were her powers changing? She'd never been afraid of a dying man, either, so perhaps that was the difference. There might be an ounce of self-preservation in her powers after all. It was surprising after so many years to learn something new about her powers. Maybe there were further depths to be explored still.

Thinking about her powers soothed Clara, and her hands ceased trembling, her heart slowed to a calmer pace. Who was to say that Clara herself, like her powers, didn't have unexplored depths as well? The shock and horror she'd felt from the attack had been alarming, but five days ago, she'd never have believed herself capable of stabbing a man; yet, in the heat of the moment, she'd been ready to plunge a knife into Kiefen's back. It was both encouraging and terrifying to see this side of herself developing. Even if she could muster up the courage necessary to continue down this path, would it forever change her? Healing was as much a part of her as her hair or her skin, it was indistinguishable from her essence. If she descended down a path of shutting it out, could she lose it forever? Clara's heart felt icy at the thought of not being a Healer.

If I'm not a Healer, I'm nothing.

She tried to brush the thought from her mind. It was not helpful to think of such things. She must focus on the current situation. Either she accepted the unknown future and followed Lukas now, or she turned back to the village, turning her back literally and metaphorically on the cause to end the war. Lukas, she knew, would not chastise her for turning back; indeed, he would probably be relieved. Bimi, too, would welcome Clara back and not fault her decision. The choice was hers to make, and hers to live with. She stepped away from the tree. Either way, she'd need her haversack and the herbs it contained.

Clara tried to retrace her earlier steps from her flight through the forest. She'd been in a mad rush, as had her pursuers, so the trail was not too difficult to follow. Broken branches and stems littered the haphazard path. Her tracking skills were minimal, but the trail was fresh and obvious, and she soon found her bag, a bit muddy from the ground but otherwise intact. The Maharians must have not noticed, or not considered it worthwhile, to pick up. Aside from Bimi's coins, there was little of value inside for those without the skill of herbs. There was a clean skirt inside, however, and Clara eagerly changed out of the grass-stained, torn one she had on. Her breath caught as she saw the tears; they must have happened during the struggle. A fresh wave of fear rolled over her as she fingered the fraying ends of the fabric. How would she ever get through this?

She'd never had to fear for her own life before, not in any serious capacity. She'd been afraid for the men up front, afraid for the little babes who took sick, afraid for the fate of her country in general, but fear for herself had hardly ever entered into her head. Healers were so welcome, so well-treated. Before those Maharians, she'd never heard of a Healer being attacked. That was why the red cloaks had been issued. If normal women felt such fear from men, such helplessness...How could they bear it?

Her skirt fastened, Clara stuffed the soiled one into her sack and stood straight. She must decide. To carry on with Lukas, and fight the war in her own small way, or to return to the village and continue as she always had, discontent with the situation but not actively taking a stand against it.

It was time to stand for something.

**

"I thought you might've changed your mind," said Lukas as she entered the clearing.

"I nearly did," she replied, trying to hide the nagging doubt that still lingered.

"It's not too late, you know," Lukas touched her shoulder. "No one would expect a Healer to take part in something like this."

"Which is why I'm the perfect cover," Clara stuck her chin out stubbornly, determined that Lukas shouldn't see her fear. His warm hand on her shoulder seemed to give her a little bit of strength. At least she wouldn't be in this alone.

"You're not just following me to try and seduce me again, are you?" The quirk of Lukas's brow told her he was joking, but she felt indignant none-the-less.

"Seduce you?" she sputtered, wanting to slap the cheeky grin off his face. How did this man get under her skin so? Never had she had such duplicitous feelings toward a person; she both wanted to slap him and to press herself into his warm embrace. She settled for a haughty flounce of her hair as she turned away from him, his hand slipping from her shoulder.

The forest around them was growing quiet, and she realized with a start the shadows were beginning to grow. It must be nearly late afternoon! How the day had slipped by. She'd not realized how long she'd been in her ponderings.

"If we're to be thrown together for an extended period of time you'll have to refrain from throwing yourself at me," continued Lukas, still wearing his grin. "I won't have time to constantly be fighting you off

and

keeping us safe and hidden."

Clara whirled to face him fully again. "There is no need for us to stay hidden all the time, we've only to follow my earlier suggestion," she said sweetly.

"And what might that be, little Healer?" Lukas stepped in closer to her and she was aware of just how small she was next to him.

"I play the healer, and you play my mute manservant. You'll want to start practicing the mute part post-haste, so you don't slip up later. How about now?" She felt her own smile turn smug as his was wiped from his face at her words.

"And you'll need a more Lotharisian name, something that I can call you in public. Unless you just prefer I call you 'servant'?"

Lukas opened his mouth to object.

"No, no, keep practicing being mute! I'll be happy to think of something for you. Don't worry, I've been all over Lotharis and heard all manner of names, I'm practically an expert. Let's see... Hubert?" Lukas shot her a venomous look, which she pointedly ignored. "Something with a similar sound to Lukas, perhaps, so you won't have trouble remembering to respond." She tapped her chin, pretending to think hard, while Lukas shot her an icy glare, his mouth twisted to one side in displeasure. "Ah, I have it. Eustace!"

"Eustace? No-"

"Now Eustace, don't excite yourself trying to speak!" Clara talked over him, "You know you'll just end up with a sore throat. Poor mute lad."

Lukas gave her a long-suffering look and heaved a sigh, but voiced no further objection.

"Which way, Eustace?" Clara asked gleefully, enjoying her moment of power. "Be good enough to point it out." The shadows of the trees grew longer, and she knew they'd already wasted most of the day; however, some progress could still be made before they'd need to stop for the night.

Lukas turned on his heel and set off, holding a haversack she hadn't noticed before. Maybe he'd been hiding it. Maybe he'd taken it off one of the dead Maharian soldiers. She quickly dismissed that thought, and followed him as he silently made his way between the trees.

There were stirrings in the woods around them, as some creatures settled in for the night, and others were just waking from slumber to begin their nights. It was peaceful, and quiet. Clara found it soothing, a balm to her troubled thoughts and self-doubt. Lukas, whether through annoyance at her or a desire to take in his surroundings, was silent as she'd suggested. He picked his way with decisively and without appearing to consult the position of the setting sun or regard for any other method of navigation. He didn't turn around to make sure Clara was keeping pace or even still following, just continued his trek.

Where would they camp tonight, she wondered. She imagined Lukas holding her close to combat the chilly night air as they slept, his breath warm on her neck, his hands curled around her body, roaming up and over her bodice, his voice soft in her ear...

Stop it! Do you want to embarrass yourself with his rejection, like last time? Focus on the mission!

She tried to think about something else, ignoring the stirrings of arousal between her legs. Not tonight, not ever, if Lukas had his way. Naturally she would rather spend her first time with a proper Lotharisian man, when she met one of suitable attractiveness. It was only her dedication to her craft that had kept her untouched this long. She'd never given it much thought before, only assumed that when the time was right, she would know. Her ridiculous body seemed to think the "right time" was with an infuriating Maharian, so clearly that theory was out the window. Why, oh why, couldn't she have felt this way about a farmer's son, or a young noble in the Lotharision ranks? No, of course it couldn't be that simple. Her backwards sense of attraction had her lusting over Lukas. She sighed in frustration, and Lukas looked back at her over his shoulder, his silhouette framed against the greenery, and Clara wanted to run her hands up the length of his strong torso. Deciding she was not injured or in trouble, Lukas turned his attention back to his task and continued leading her through the forest.

After a time, the silence began to feel too stretched out.

"How do you know where you're going?" she asked Lukas.

He turned, gave her a baleful expression and a shrug, and pointed at his sealed lips. Clara screamed internally. Of course, he would use her suggestion against her now, when she could have used some conversation. "I'm only asking to make sure you're not getting us hopelessly lost," she said to his back. "But I'm so pleased that you're practicing your mute skills. A break from your ungallant speeches is just what I needed." She couldn't see his face, but somehow she knew he was laughing at her. "Really, a quiet evening in the forest is quite preferable to your pert remarks." Still he said nothing.

"You will at some point have to communicate to me that we're stopping for the evening," she continued, irritated. "I suppose it will be a fine practice for you to use your hand signals, since you'll have to rely on such things if we pass through a village or township. Gods forbid we have to take you through a guarded city. I don't imagine you'd be able to hide your nature for long, with all those Lotharisian soldiers running about." She was aware that she was speaking now only to fill the silence and to goad him into talking, but she couldn't help herself. "They might take one look at your face and recognize you for the insolent man you are." She brushed a low-hanging branch out of her way as she followed in his steps. "And if you open your mouth to speak, all is lost. That atrocious accent of yours."

Lukas bounded easily over a fallen tree suspended in the middle of his chosen path. Clara lifted her skirts and after a few false starts scrambled awkwardly on top, trying to slide down the other side without her skirts riding up to her hips. "And another thing," she said, trying to crawl down in a somewhat dignified manner, "You -" her speech stopped short as she fell away from the log and into Lukas's chest. "Oh," she said, as his arms easily set her down on the ground.

"You talk too much, Red." Without another word, he pushed her back against the log and kissed her hard. Clara scarcely knew what her hands were doing; but somehow, they ended up around his neck, pulling him in closer. The log pressed into her back, no doubt muddying and staining her one clean skirt, but all she could think about was the fever inside of her, the desperate hunger for more, more, as she pulled Lukas closer to her. He obliged, his hands slipping under her thighs and hoisting her further up the log, so her lower back pressed firmly into it and her legs wrapped around his waist, clinging tight. He broke their kiss to trace his lips down the curve of her neck, causing her to tremble and her legs to shake around him. He gave her neck a gentle nip and her insides turned into a hot, molten liquid.

"Mmm..." she breathed, her pale neck glowing softly in the light of the newly risen moon. Lukas responded with a moan of his own that was almost a growl, as he pressed his hardness against her. Clara's hands left his neck, sliding down to his torso and pulling him towards her, wordlessly begging for him to enter her.

"Damn it, Red," he hissed as he cupped her buttocks and brought her snug against him. "This isn't how you want it."

"How do you know what I want?" she asked coyly, pressing her pelvis harder into his erection. She wanted him, here and now, beds and niceties be damned.

"We shouldn't be doing this if we're going to work together," Lukas groaned, but his lips moved down her chest to the top of her breasts, his warm breath causing her nipples to harden under her bodice.

"Yes, yes we should," breathed Clara, and boldly slipped a hand to the front of his trousers, tracing the shape she found there, and smiling with pleasure at Lukas's sudden intake of air.

"You little minx," he said wryly, but he didn't stop her. Clara applied more pressure, almost grasping his manhood through his clothing. There was something empowering about knowing that his reaction was for her, was in response to her. "I won't be able to help myself if you keep doing that," he warned.

"Good." She kept stroking him.

"Red," he pleaded, "Stop." She ignored him, but then he reluctantly pulled away from her, letting her slide down the log to her own feet and easing his body away. "This mission is too important."

"We don't have to be celibate to be successful," objected Clara.

"You're right there, but it's not a good idea to couple

together

."

Clara was hurt at the implication that he might sleep with someone else, but not her. Her wounded pride was only exacerbated by the unfulfilled ache in her most intimate place. She shoved him farther away and flounced off into the darkened woods, too angry to speak.

"Don't go too far, little Healer," called Lukas after her. "We'll need to get an early start tomorrow."

Insufferable man, she thought, crashing her way through the underbrush, heedless of the branches slapping at her cheeks and pulling at her cloak. Wretched, horrid, insufferable man.

I hope he enjoyed that. It's the last time he'll ever get to do it again!

**

The morning dawned chilly and clear, and Clara huddled deeper into her cloak, not yet ready to face the day and the embarrassment of seeing Lukas. Her body was a bit achy, no doubt the result of spending the last two nights on the hard ground of the forest instead of a plump feather bed. Still, she'd managed to find a mossy patch that afforded some comfort. Had Lukas fared as well? What if he'd decided it would be simpler to just leave her behind?

That thought spurred her awake, and she fumbled in her haversack for the loaf of bread. She tore off a piece and ate it slowly, pondering. If Lukas hadn't left her, he probably already knew where she was, and the best way to find him would be to stay in one place. She took a long swallow from her waterskin. What she wouldn't give for a cup of hot tea right now!

"Tea will be a thing of luxury if I stay on this path," she chuckled softly to herself. Tearing off a bit more bread, she took in her surroundings, keeping an eye out for any sign of Lukas. It wasn't so much a clearing as an overshadowed spot, the enormous tree she'd slept under blocking the light too well for all but the shade-loving moss to grow. The trees around were thicker, older. She was deep into the heart of the forest now. The tree behind her tugged at her, calling to her Healer's sense. It must be a heart tree, she realized. An older one, well-established but growing weaker and tired. If anything might make her feel better it was the chance to connect to the pure energy of the forest through a heart tree.

Abandoning her things for the time being, she followed the intangible calling that summoned her further in to the forest. It was not far at all before she saw it, its soothing presence bolstering her courage and calming her at the same time. She placed her hands on its bark, leaning in to press her cheek to it.

"I don't suppose you could advise me," she whispered to the tree. "I hope I'm making the right choice in aiding this cause, but I don't suppose I'll know until it's too late." The tree seemed to warm under her cheek, and Clara's mind felt quieter, and more reassured of her decision. "If only it had been a different man," she sighed. "It would be so much less complicated if he wasn't so handsome and infuriating at the same time."

"All the best men are," came Lukas's saucy voice, and Clara whirled away from the tree, frowning. Lukas stepped out from a shadow and revealed himself. "Really, Red, I'm flattered, but don't let me interrupt this intimate moment," he gestured to the tree. "Please, go ahead and finish your embrace."

"Don't you have heart trees in Maharia?" asked Clara.

"We do. I don't usually spend much time around them, and definitely never whisper sweet nothings to them. If you're finished with that, we should get on our way."

Clara rolled her eyes, but didn't bother to correct him. It was not worth the effort. His flippant manner made it easier to forget the indignities of the night before, or at least to pretend they hadn't happened. They might as well have been forgotten, for they would surely not be repeated.

"I am ready. I've only been waiting for you to come skulking out of the bushes."

"Skulking, madame? I never skulk. I spy, I creep, I sneak, but never skulk. Even we infuriating Maharians have our honour." Lukas grinned at her, and she couldn't resist returning it. "You've eaten?" he asked.

"Yes, I - I never asked. Do you have provisions? I never thought of it." She felt slightly ashamed that it was only now crossing her mind. She'd left a man she'd healed alone in the forest, alone, without confirming that he had any form of sustenance.

"Do I look like I'm wasting away?" Lukas gestured at his well-muscled body, and Clara found it no great hardship to be invited to look. "I'm equipped for a few days. If your supply runs low, let me know."

"If my supply runs low, I've only to stop in the nearest town or village and they will provision me."

"Hmm." He pondered. "That does simplify things. I wonder no one has thought of traveling with a healer before."

"Perhaps," responded Clara archly, "It's because we don't generally welcome the company of those who don't understand our ways." Lukas only grinned at her, seemingly oblivious to her veiled insult.

"Still, I'd rather avoid towns or villages if we can. Only where I have connections." He looked up at the lightening sky. "Let's get moving, I'd like to make some good progress today. This," he touched the wounded area of his ribs, "has delayed me enough. And I'd like to get farther from the border. Shake off any others they might have sent after me." Clara grimaced at the memory of the last Maharians. She'd be only too happy to avoid any instances like that.