| Gwen And Now - Chapter 4
Walking along the shore of the frozen lake, Gwen pulled her cloak closer around her shoulders and wondered just what she was doing. Surely Nathel would be back soon. It wasn't like it would have been hard for him to find her if she had just stayed in the tower. But something had prompted her to go back outside, to go and seek him out if she could. Why, she couldn't say. Only that her heart told her to do it. And that she wanted to be with him.
Although Lt. Thackeray had reminded her a few weeks ago during Wintersday that she wasn't alone, that the Vanguard was her family now, Gwen had come to feel closer still to Nathel. His was one of the only other faces she saw now that she had known in the days before the Searing. And she suspected that hers was much the same for him. The memories of their shared past, along with the things they had recently been through together in the present, drew Gwen to him in a way she didn't feel for anyone else.
Wintersday. It hadn't been so bad this year. For the first time, she hadn't felt alone. Not just because Thackeray—she still hadn't quite gotten around to thinking of him by his first name, Keiran, even though he had asked her to call him that—had been kind enough to enlist Nathel in getting her a gift. The pendant, with the family crest engraved in it and a bit of her mother's spirit dwelling inside it, meant a great deal to her. It had been so sweet of Nathel to go to all the trouble of having it made for her, although she had never told him so. It would have brought to the surface feelings that she hadn't been quite sure how to deal with, longings she wasn't sure she should have but which she was helpless to stop. She might as well have tried to stop her heart from beating.
Those feelings swirled around inside her, stronger now than they had been then. Although the pendant had been Thackeray's idea, it was Nathel who had done the work and who had actually given it to her. And it had made her feel closer to him than she had before, had nudged her heart a little further along the course it had already decided it was going to go. Gwen hoped that she would be able to convince him to stay here, to stay with the Vanguard. And with her. Gwen's heart beat a little faster at that thought as she finally began to admit to herself what she had known for some time but which she had never before allowed herself to put into words, not even in the privacy of her own mind.
She was falling in love with Nathel, a little more each day. Once, long ago, he had been like the big brother she had never had, even though they had only spent a few short hours together. But now, after he had come back into her life and helped her find herself again, helped her to put the demons of her past to rest and reminded her that she wasn't alone, Gwen had found herself beginning to think of him in ways she hadn't before, longing more and more to see if he could ever be more than just her friend. They had scared her at first, those thoughts and feelings, and so she had tried to bury them and ignore them, afraid of what they might mean. But they hadn't gone away, instead growing stronger as the weeks had gone by and she had spent more time with him.
Nathel was older than her by a good six years, and for the longest time Gwen had reminded herself of that fact over and over, used it to tell herself she was just being foolish and to forget about it. But of late that had become more and more difficult to do. She would steel herself not to waver, do her best to lock her wayward emotions up tight, but whenever she saw him now for more than a passing moment, whenever he came near, butterflies swam lazily in her stomach and her heart leapt free of its restraints, slamming against her ribs like Devona's famed warhammer.
Her boots crunching in the snow, Gwen continued on down the shore of the lake, a light wind brushing past her cheeks. It was late, the night sky obscured by a dark blanket of clouds. She hoped Nathel had begun to head back by now. He should have, as he knew better than to stay out too long in the frigid nights here in the far north. Without some form of shelter, even a strong warrior would die of exposure within hours if the weather became too cold, as it often did late at night.
Gwen moved a little faster, wanting to find Nathel before the air grew any chillier. She was probably worrying over nothing—he was a ranger, after all, and knew better than she did the ways of the wild and how to see changes in the wind—but still, a tiny knot festered in her gut, a seed of doubt that she knew would not leave until she saw him safely inside the keep. There was still time, but even Gwen could see that a storm was brewing. They sometimes swept down out of the mountain peaks to the north, icy blizzards that piled snow upon the lands here in drifts several feet deep by the time they blew themselves out. Gwen had watched them before from inside the walls of the keep. But now she was outside, and so was Nathel. She hurried onward, her unease deepening.
••••••••••
“A group of Charr have broken through the gates!”
Gwen's jaw dropped. Standing there alongside the road only a few yards in front of her was Prince Rurik! The prince himself! He was in shiny armor and had a big flaming sword, and he looked worried. So did the other soldiers with him. Gwen knew why. Although she had never seen them, she knew what the Charr were. Big nasty monsters that had been attacking Ascalon for as long as she could remember. The big wall to the north kept them out, though. At least, she had thought it did.
Beside her, Nathel stared at the prince. “What? When?”
“Just now,” Prince Rurik answered. “Will you help me drive them from Ascalon, young ranger?”
“I'm with you!”
The prince nodded. “Excellent. Follow me! To the gate!”
Gwen's heart began to pound as Nathel turned to her. “You stay here, Gwen. I'll come back when it's all over.”
“But—“
“No buts, you hear me?” Nathel said. “I don't want you anywhere near the Charr. And I don't want them anywhere near you. Okay?”
Gwen sighed. “Okay. Be careful.”
“I will, Gwen. And I'll be back soon.”
And then he was gone, hurrying down the road after Prince Rurik and the soldiers, the road she and Nathel had already started down after returning from their third trip to Ashford to help Mr. Pitney with his worm problem. They had also picked up the bear cloak from Miss Alison for her friend Little Thom, who was in Green Hills County where Devona wanted Nathel to talk to some people. So that had been their next destination. Only they hadn't gotten there yet. And now there were Charr coming through the gate, and Nathel was rushing to stop them.
Hadn't he nearly been killed by them when he was a boy? And they had killed his sister, too. Gwen remembered him telling her that earlier in the day. She worried about him, not wanting to disobey him but afraid that, even with Prince Rurik and the soldiers with him, something bad might happen to him. Before she even realized what she was doing, Gwen found herself heading down the road after Nathel, not sure what was happening to him but unable to bear not knowing any longer.
As she drew closer to the great wall, Gwen heard the sounds of battle, of steel clashing and magic sizzling and people yelling and monsters roaring. She smelled burnt grass and singed flesh, and her heart beat faster. Then she saw them, huge hulking things that could only be Charr. They were all fur and horns and sharp claws, and they were so big! Gwen trembled at the sight of them and hid behind a tree while the battle raged less than fifty yards ahead of her. Where was Nathel? At first, Gwen didn't see him, terrified as she was at the sight of the four Charr who had burst through the gate. Two were in heavy armor and hacking at Prince Rurik and the soldiers with big, nasty axes, while another Charr shot flaming arrows at them with a bow. The last one threw balls of magic fire at them that Gwen was sure would burn them to a crisp.
But the prince and his soldiers held their ground, slowly pushing back the two Charr with the axes, and Gwen saw that Nathel was a short distance behind them, firing arrow after arrow at the Charr ranger. The monster didn't go down at first, even after two of Nathel's arrows thudded into its chest. But then a third hit it, this time in the neck, and then the Charr finally fell down and didn't get up. It was at that same moment that the two Charr warriors suddenly rushed toward Prince Rurik, swatting the other soldiers aside except one who managed to stay on his feet and strike back. Gwen saw Nathel shift his bow at once to help the prince and the others.
Gwen winced as fireballs exploded one after another around Nathel and Prince Rurik. The fire-caller! Gwen looked back at him, a horrible realization dawning in her mind. Surely, Nathel and the others hadn't forgotten about the spellcasting Charr, but at the moment they couldn't reach him. Not through those two other Charr and their sharp axes. And the longer the gate stood open, the more likely it was that more Charr would come through it. And then something really bad would happen. But what could she do? She was just a little girl, scared to death of the monsters that were attacking her friend and her prince. But they needed help. They needed time, a moment to let them regroup and push back at the Charr.
Slowly, hardly aware she was moving, Gwen tucked her flute and flowers into her belt and edged out from behind the tree. She crept closer, bending down to stay out of sight, and scooped up three fist-sized rocks from off the ground. Skipping stones across the river was one of her favorite things to do on a warm, sunny afternoon, and she had gotten quite good at pegging skale tads if they wandered too close. But these were no baby skale she was taking aim at now. These were Charr, and they would kill her or capture her if given the chance. Gwen swallowed hard and crept a little closer to the battle, her eyes on the fire-caller. He would have to be first. And she would have to be fast.
Gwen straightened, drew back her arm, and threw the first rock. It sped through the air in a tight, shallow arc and hit the Charr fire-caller right on the side of the head. It wasn't enough to do any real damage, but that had never been Gwen's intention. The monster's spell fizzled out and it shook its head even as Gwen hurled her other two rocks in quick succession, one at each of the Charr warriors. Again, her aim would have made Nathel proud. The stones bopped the two Charr right in the head and they stumbled slightly, just enough for Nathel, Prince Rurik, and the others to press the attack. Gwen turned and ran for the safety of the tree, but then as something sizzled behind her, she shrieked and dove aside as a ball of flame slammed into the ground where she had just been.
She looked up to see the Charr fire-caller looking straight at her, and her blood turned to ice. The monster had recovered more quickly than she had thought. Gwen wanted to move, but fear paralyzed her. She had been able to act while the Charr weren't looking at her, while they didn't know she was there, but now that one did, now that it was coming for her, she couldn't. She managed to stand, but her back bumped into the tree and she could go no further. She was trapped. She couldn't even find her voice to call out Nathel's name, to scream for help. All she could manage was a terrified whimper as the fire-caller raised his staff.
Gwen winced, but the fireball never came.
The spellcasting Charr suddenly stiffened, let out a pained grunt as its eyes widened, and fell on its face, its back full of arrows. At first, Gwen could hardly believe it. But then she looked up and saw Nathel rushing toward her, casting his bow aside and reaching out for her. “Gwen! Are you alright? What are you doing here?”
She flew into his arms, still trembling. “I'm sorry, Nathel! I'm so sorry!”
“It's alright, Gwen. It's over. We won. But why didn't you stay behind? Why did you follow us? You know what the Charr did to me, to my sister. I don't want that to happen to you.”
“I know. I was just so scared for you. I was afraid the Charr would get you.”
Gwen's chest hitched, but she blinked away the few tears that escaped her eyes. She wasn't going to cry. She wasn't. Not with the prince nearby. She had to be strong. The sounds of battle had stopped, and when she looked past Nathel, Gwen saw that the two Charr warriors were on the ground, dead like the others. It really was over. Taking a deep breath, she steadied herself and stepped away. She could be strong, too. Just like the others. Like her mommy and daddy. And Farrah and Devona. And Nathel. She looked at him. “I'm okay, now.”
And then she looked and saw that the prince, Prince Rurik himself, was walking toward her! Her and Nathel, that was. Probably just Nathel. Still, it was wonderful to see him up close, just the same. While his soldiers closed and locked the gate, he sheathed his flaming sword and stood before her, tall and handsome and regal, and Gwen was suddenly very much aware of her plain dress and bare, dusty feet. She felt very much like a muddy peasant girl as he looked at her. “Are you alright? I did not mean for you to be caught up in the battle.”
Gwen nodded. “I... I'm fine, Your Higness. Thank you.”
“What's your name?” he asked.
“Gwen, sir.”
Prince Rurik knelt before her so that he was at eye level with her. “You did a very brave thing back there, Gwen. Dangerous, yes, but also brave.”
“I... I did?” Gwen blinked. “I was brave?”
“Indeed, Gwen. I have seen men in full armor flee at the first sight of a Charr war party. But you did not. And you gave us the moment we needed to strike back at these foul beasts. Had you not distracted them when you did, things might have turned out much worse for us.”
Gwen could hardly believe it. “Thank you, Your Highness.”
“If anything,” he smiled, “it is I who should thank you. Bravery does not mean the absence of fear. It is acting in spite of it, which you did today. With courage such as yours, I foresee that you could become one of Ascalon's finest defenders one day, if you so wished it. And, if I may say so, one of its loveliest as well.”
He took her hand, brought it to his lips, and kissed it, and Gwen blushed so red she thought she must look like one of Mary Malone's apples. Prince Rurik though she was brave! And beautiful! Gwen forgot all about the Charr and how afraid she had been of them. She beamed, giggling helplessly as he rose to his feet and thanked Nathel for his assistance in the battle, saying he foresaw great things in his future. Of course Gwen could have told him that. As she waved goodbye to the prince and followed Nathel down the road to Green Hills County, she felt as though her feet never touched the ground.
••••••••••
The first flakes of snow were just beginning to drift down around her when Gwen spotted Nathel heading toward her from farther down the shore of the lake. He was alone, and Gwen guessed that
Whisper had gone off his own to find a place amidst the rocky slopes and towering pines to weather out the coming storm. The wind had picked up a little, tossing the edges of her cloak, but so far it wasn't too bad yet. She waved to Nathel and hurried toward him, her heart beating a little faster.
“Gwen!” he called, waving back. “Everything alright?”
She reached him a moment later. “Yes, but there's a storm coming, I think.”
“One of those Norn snowbiters, if I've read the wind right. It's heading in from the northeast and moving fast, so we'd better get going.”
“A snowbiter?” Gwen wondered, walking with him back the way she had come.
Nathel nodded. “It's a particularly vicious kind of blizzard, so cold and windy that the snow feels like teeth sinking into your skin and ripping it right off. That's why the Norn call it a snowbiter. Tough as they are, even they won't go out into one of those.”
“We'll be able to make it back, won't we?”
“I think so. The storm isn't here just yet. But it will be, soon.”
Despite Nathel's words, Gwen felt that knot of unease in her gut deepen. She didn't know quite why. Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out the tapestry shred, taking comfort in the feel of it in her hand, the soft texture of the fabric against her skin. It calmed her a little. She thought of clear, sunny skies, of warm afternoons, of a picnic she'd had as a little girl with Nathel long ago. She thought of asking him later if he wanted to have one with her again someday, when spring came. They would talk and they would laugh. And maybe—
Her thoughts scattered as the wind shrieked and howled, whipping around her like some vengeful spirit as the snow started to fall faster. Gwen quickened her pace as Nathel did likewise, but it seemed like they gained no ground. The keep loomed ahead of them, little more than a bulky shadow in the distance, but drew no closer. Gwen wondered if they would ever reach it. They were only a little over a mile away, but in this weather, it might as well have been ten. And then a sudden gust of wind tore the tapestry shred from her fingers and sent it tumbling away across the snow.
Gwen ran after it, her eyes wide. “No!”
“Gwen!” Nathel shouted, his voice barely audible over the banshee wail of the rising storm. “Gwen, wait! Come back! There's no time!”
But she ignored him. She had to get the tapestry shred back. She had to! It meant so much to her, his gift. She couldn't bear to lose it. But it flitted just out of her reach as the wind blew it away from the slopes, away from the trees and out over the white vastness of the frozen lake. Gwen followed, running as fast as she could, but the old bit of fabric stayed maddeningly beyond her grasp. She had lost so much over the years, so many people and things she had treasured and loved. Was this to be taken from her as well? Gwen blinked away the tears that threatened to blur her vision and continued on, her legs burning with exertion. Yet the tapestry shred stayed just beyond her grasp.
The wind then died down so abruptly for a moment that Gwen stumbled and fell flat on her stomach onto the ice. The tapestry shred lay in front of her, and she grabbed it before it could elude her again. Now she did cry, just a little, as she stood up and held the tapestry shred against her before tucking it securely into her pocket. She wiped her face and eyes and felt her cheeks turn pink as she saw Nathel hurrying toward her, and as he did so, the full weight of what she had just done hit her like a fist slamming into her gut. By the gods, was she insane? What had she been thinking, risking her life over a little piece of faded cloth? Gwen ran a hand through her hair and found no answers, utterly embarrassed and not sure what to say as Nathel drew near.
“Are you alright?” he asked.
Gwen somehow managed to find her voice. “Yes. Sorry about that, I just...”
“It's okay. I saw what happened. Did you get it back?”
“It's right here in my pocket, Nathel. I didn't want to lose your gift. But I guess it was a pretty crazy thing to do, wasn't it?”
He nodded. “Just a little, yeah. Come on, le—“
“What?” Gwen blinked. “What is it?”
“Don't move,” he said, his face suddenly pale he looked down at the ice.
Gwen followed his gaze, realizing for the first time just how far out onto the lake she had gotten. Despite the snow piling up all around her, she could still see the thick sheet of ice that covered the surface of the lake. Only here, it wasn't so thick. And in growing horror, she saw a series of spiderweb cracks beneath her feet. Then, as the wind picked up again, there was a snapping sound, and another and another, and the patch of ice where she stood shattered and collapsed.
With a terrified scream, Gwen plunged into the freezing waters of the lake.
| 
