The Girl in the Red Cloak Ch. 03

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Chapter 3

The shadows grew long overhead as Clara made her way deeper into the woods. She wondered if Lukas was watching her, following her again.

"I can hear you," she lied boldly to the empty air, hoping to spur him from his cover if he was indeed following her. She paused for a moment, waiting. When she heard nothing other than the sounds of the forest and saw no sign of him she continued on her way.

"I can't believe I'm doing this again," she grumbled to herself. "He's probably fled by now anyway. No doubt I'm wasting my time." Yet she kept walking.

Clara screamed as a pair of hands grabbed her behind, and one of the hands swiftly moved to cover her mouth.

"Quiet, you little ninny, it's only me," Lukas hissed in her ear. Clara attempted to shove away from him and voice her anger at being surprised in such a way, but Lukas held her firm and would not budge. Despite her hot feelings of animosity toward him for startling and holding her against her will, she was aware of just how close to him she was, one of his arms circling her waist and pinning her arms down as he held her tight against him. She could feel his firm body against her back and recalled how it had felt the night before when she'd leaned into him, exploring his torso and chest. Clara blushed at the thought, and was slightly relieved that because of the way the Maharian was holding her, he couldn't see her face.

"Now listen," said Lukas, in a low, murmuring voice right against her ear. "I will let you go, but you have to promise to be quiet. Do you promise?" Clara nodded. "Good girl." Lukas removed his hand from her mouth and slackened his hold on her waist, though he did not release her completely. Clara fought the urge to turn and shout at him, and maybe give him a slap. There must be a reason he requested silence. Perhaps a bear was foraging up ahead, or a wolf pack. Though they much preferred the deer of the forest over humans, it was best not to take chances.

"What is it?" she whispered, making no attempt to run. It was strange that she should feel safer with an enemy soldier than a simple forest creature, she mused. Lukas leaned down to answer her, putting his mouth next to her ear so that his scruff of a beard brushed against her sensitive neck, and Clara fought back a shiver.

"Further in, there are Lotharisian soldiers. I don't think they're looking for me, they don't move like trackers. I think they're just passing through. If I'm not mistaken, it's shorter to cut through the woods rather than go around, isn't it?"

"Yes," Clara nodded, "Though most don't. Most believe these woods are haunted." No two villagers could agree on just which ghosts haunted it, but the general consensus held that were spirits of some kind.

"You don't?" Though she couldn't see it, Clara could feel his broad grin behind her. She snorted.

"Of course not. These are just regular woods, no matter what the old wives' tales say. The worst thing I've encountered here is you." She darted a poisonous look at him over her shoulder, but she only half meant it. Somehow she was warming to his teasing.

"Ouch, Red," he said mockingly. "You've cut me to the heart. I thought we really had a connection." Clara rolled her eyes, but still made no move away from him. "We should probably move further out, just in case," said Lukas, releasing her. Clara felt a slight twinge of disappointment. "I'm sure that in winter, despite the haunted rumors, the villagers will come at least a little into the forest to gather firewood." He looked at her for confirmation, and she nodded. "Then we'll head to the outskirts where there are already signs of people passing through. No point in taking chances." He offered Clara his arm and she accepted, and they quietly picked their way back to the entrance.

I'm helping a Maharian to hide from soldiers. Does this make me a traitor?

The need for quiet meant that they were not talking and gave Clara ample opportunity to mull this over. Her actions could be construed as that of any Healer and her patient, Healers always took it upon themselves to see that those they healed had time to rest and were not taxed with anything too strenuous which might trigger a relapse or re-open a wound. It was a form of protection, not too dissimilar to what she was doing now. She wasn't even doing that much now, to be frank. Oh, she supposed a normal citizen would have been yelling at the top of their lungs for the Lotharisian soldiers to come and capture the Maharian, but it wasn't as if she was offering Lukas shelter. She was merely following her patient as he carefully put some distance between them and the Lotharisian soldiers.

The war was such a waste, anyway. Why should it matter whether she helped a Lotharisian or a Maharian? They were more alike than different. The Maharians tended toward a duskier complexion, but no one cared about such things. A Lotharisian farmer who spent his days in the sun was just as bronze. They spoke the same language, though of course the Maharians had that slight, lilting accent. Still, they were perfectly understandable. She did not know what gods the Maharians worshipped, if any, but there was so much variety in Lotharis already on that subject that it hardly seemed to matter.

She'd heard rumors that the Maharian mountains were full of gold and precious gems that King Roderick desired, but lumps of cold metal and stone seemed a poor trade for the lives of the men of Lotharis. It was only rumor though, who would ever know if it was true? Well, actually -

"Lukas," she said, keeping her voice low, "What's Maharia like?" She turned to watch his face, counting on him to steer them around trees and other obstacles as she held tight to his arm. He seemed surprised, and then pleased, to be asked.

"It's a lot like here, actually," he said. "The poor struggle while the rich prosper, and countless lives are lost in a meaningless war. Our king is just as bloodthirsty as your King Roderick. It's beautiful though. Those who have never lived in the valley of a mountain can never appreciate the beauty and the awe it inspires. Imagine having a snow-capped giant, beautiful and potentially deadly rising above the landscape, visible for leagues and leagues. They don't look as big in the distance, but as you get closer you realize just how enormous they are. I lived below Mt. Kilien, the largest mountain in all of Maharia as a boy. I still miss it." His tone turned wistful, and Clara had the strangest urge to embrace him and kiss him, to offer him comfort and banish the trace of home-sickness. "I've heard the Lotharisian coastline is just as awe-inspiring though."

"It is quite a sight," Clara agreed. "I've only been there once but I shall never forget the ocean. It's so endless, so vast... A person could get lost just staring into its depths." Lukas turned and met her gaze, and Clara felt as if they'd somehow made a connection, something deeper and purer than the heated kisses they'd shared.

"I should like to see it someday," said Lukas.

"I wish I could take you," sighed Clara, and to her surprise, she meant it.

"Let's stop here awhile." Lukas gestured to an almost-but-not-quite clearing that was close to the forest's edge. "This should be far enough out to avoid the soldiers, but far in enough to shield us, well, me anyway, from prying eyes. I know a Healer, of course, has every right and reason to be in the forest gathering her herbs." His eyes danced with amusement, as he poked fun at their first conversation. Clara grinned despite herself, and quickly turned her head to hide it.

"Here is fine," she said, and settled herself against the trunk of a large oak tree. After a moment's hesitation, Lukas joined her, his arm just touching hers.

"Do you think the war will ever end?" Clara turned her face to him as she asked. Lukas gave her a level gaze and appeared to mull the question over.

"It will, though not soon. Wars can't go on always and forever, eventually one side runs out of supplies, or men, or both. I believe it will end before things get to that point. King Otto can't live forever, and when Princess Kasimira takes the throne, there will be changes."

"Won't it depend on who she marries?" Clara was curious. Lukas gave her a half-smile and shook his head.

"Not in Maharia. Kasimira was the first born, and we don't discriminate based on sex. I happen to know the princess is in no hurry to marry, save for the gain of her people, before she sets the country to rights."

"Oh, are you so intimately acquainted with her then?" Clara felt the stirrings of something – jealousy perhaps? - as she thought of Lukas and the princess. Surely not, why should it matter to her what the Maharian princess and this Maharian soldier did. She didn't care.

Lukas gave her another long, level look.

"Because you saved my life, and because I can see that you are truly against the war, as I am, I will tell you the truth." He took a deep breath before continuing. " Princess Kasimira has formed a private coalition, if you will, that is loyal to her, with the goal of putting an end to this war. Though I play the part of a loyal Maharian soldier, my true duty is to the princess, and to end the war. I've been sent to Lotharis to Prince Randall, and not, as you might think, to kill him, but as an envoy of peace in Kasimira's name. It is her hope and belief that when Randall takes the throne, the two of them can make an agreement of peace, end this pointless war, and perhaps form a partnership of our nations, either through a marriage or treaty."

"But you killed that Lotharisian soldier in the woods," objected Clara, "How can you call that a mission of peace?" Lukas shrugged.

"That was self-defense. I didn't set out to kill anyone but if it comes down to me or a Lotharisian soldier, I will defend myself and my mission to the death." The steely tone in his voice made her shudder.

Clara was silent for a minute as she thought things over. The quiet forest made no interruption of her thoughts save the occasional bird call or rustle of wind through the leaves.

"Then I am glad I healed you," she said slowly. "I had my misgivings at first, but I see now it was the right thing, and I am glad."

Lukas laughed.

"Me too, Red. Me too."

Their faces were close, and as Clara stared into his dazzlingly blue eyes, she found herself lifting her face and angling it towards him, inviting him. As if he had only been waiting for such an invitation, Lukas dove in. His lips parted hers and his tongue was insistent on hers, drawing her deeper into the kiss. Clara's hand stole up and around his neck, pulling him deeper still. The heat coursed through her blood and she kissed him back fiercely.

Suddenly Lukas' hands grabbed hold of her waist, and in one deft movement she was no longer sitting beside him, but astride instead, the bark of the tree digging into her knees. Clara could not have cared less about that, and pressed into Lukas. Her skirt was bunched up, revealing a good portion of her legs, more than polite society would deem appropriate, but she couldn't be bothered with that. All that mattered was Lukas, and this kiss, and the warmth that was spreading through her body, emanating from her core.

Lukas broke the kiss long enough to untie her bodice straps, and in a few short moments, Clara's breasts were free. She shivered for a moment at the cooler evening air on her rosy nipples, but Lukas' warm hands were quickly over them, warming them and sending tingles of delight through her as he caressed the tips and gently teased them with his thumb. Clara began to feel hot, and longed to be free of the rest of her clothing as well. As if he could read her mind, Lukas unfastened her cloak and threw it behind her on the ground.

"Hold on to me, Red," he said, and Clara obliged, her arms and legs wrapping tight around him as he lurched forward and up, his hands grasping her bottom, and then gently settled her over her cape. "You're so beautiful," he murmured, his mouth against her ear. He nuzzled at her earlobe and dropped a string of kisses, each lighter than the last, around her neck. Clara had kissed a few men in her time, nothing much more than kisses and once a quick fumble under her bodice, but none of them had set her on fire like this. His kisses might well have left a burning trail around her neck, so intensely did she feel them. His body pressing down against hers indicated that he, too, was growing aroused by them.

Clara wanted him. It was as simple as that. She wanted to throw off her skirts and undergarments and let him take her here, in the wilderness. Her body and mind were in complete agreement over what she wanted, though her mind wasn't sure it was such a good idea. Lukas dropped lower over body, his mouth found her nipple, and suddenly Clara's mind was quiet, any power to voice objection gone as the warm stimulation of his mouth and tongue teased them into silence. Clara whimpered a little at the feeling, her hands clutching his broad shoulders. Lukas looked up and smiled, clearly pleased. He dropped his gaze to her skirt, and reached out to undo one of the side buttons holding it up. Clara licked her lips in nervousness, but allowed him to continue, till he was sliding her skirt down over her legs, and then lifting her hips ever so slightly as her undergarments followed suit.

Lying bare on the cloak, Clara felt suddenly shy, and looked away from his penetrating gaze. She heard the rustle of more clothing, and peeked back over to find Lukas shirtless, his bronze body glowing in the light of the newly risen moon. He leaned over her again, coaxing her face to his with a kisses, and Clara gasped with pleasure as he slipped a hand between her legs and found her folds slick and wet.

"Mmm," he said, and then his fingers began to tease, and touch, and Clara found herself panting against his mouth at the feelings he was inciting. His touches continued, building her up towards something – well, she knew what it was, Healers were taught about sex and what happened, they had to know all about the human body to help heal it, but Clara had never experienced this herself. Lukas heaved himself off of her for a moment, and Clara realized he was undoing his trousers. Oh. This was really going to happen. She wanted it, she wanted him, but... She had never done this before, and she was overcome with sudden nervousness, despite the willingness of her body to go along with it.

"Be gentle," she squeaked, and Lukas laughed, then froze.

"Wait. Are you... a virgin?" His face was concerned. Clara nodded. A long silence stretched between them, and she wondered what was going on. "Oh, Red," Lukas sighed. "I can't take that from you, not here and not like this. Your first time should be somewhere proper. A bed, with a man you at least fancy yourself in love with."

"I don't care about that," said Clara truthfully. The ache inside of her demanded that he satiate her now, never mind beds and other ridiculous niceties.

"But I do," he said ruefully. " And you will too someday. Maybe another time, Red. Another life. Not because I don't want you, the gods know I do, but I don't want you to hate me later." He shoved off the cloak and stood, dressing himself. Feeling miserable and altogether too naked and vulnerable, Clara wrapped the folds of the cloak around her as she sat up and began to gather her things. Lukas handed her the skirt, a sad look in his eyes. "Someday you'll understand, Red, and be glad."

Clara was at a loss for words. She was hurt, angry at his rejection, and yet she couldn't bring herself to voice her feelings. What on earth could she say? 'How dare you not make love to me?' sounded silly and petty, even to her mind. A very small part of her wished that he wasn't quite so honour-bound. But perhaps he was right, and it was best to wait for a real love, and not this silly infatuation or whatever it was she felt for Lukas. Obviously it wasn't the real thing, for either of them. She fastened her cloak back on and stood, fully covered again.

"I suppose I should escort you out," said Lukas, with a trace of regret in his voice.

"Don't be silly, I haven't yet examined your wound. Er, in my official capacity, that is." She'd seen it a few minutes ago, of course, but the last thing on her mind had been checking for infection. Lukas gave that half-smile he was so prone to, nodded, and removed his shirt again. Resolutely ignoring how his bronzed, muscular arms flexed with the movement, Clara moved in and put her hand over his wound. It was healing nicely, though no doubt the activities they'd nearly engaged in would have put some strain on it. Probably best they had been avoided, on the whole.

"I think in a few days it will be nothing but a fresh scar," she said, pleased with her work. "Though you should be careful to not to anything that might tug at it, that will slow the healing process and might reopen it. Will the rest of your mission be as dangerous, do you think?"

"I told you we have allies. I will have shelter and food, at least, though there is always risk being a Maharian in Lotharis. Princess Kasimira has a man on the inside of the castle, close to Prince Randall. It is he who will arrange the meeting, and I'll be able to pass on the information. Of course, there is still the return trip I'll have to make. No one ever said working to end a war was any easier than fighting in one." His smile was baleful. "The mission would already have been a loss, if not for you."

"I only did what is natural to Healers."

"Still. I'm sure there are those among your kind who would have ignored a Maharian, or called for soldiers." He pulled his shirt back on as he spoke.

"That's true. I did not know how I would react in such a situation til I found myself in one. It's possible even those who say they wouldn't help, might help when faced with it. The healing instinct is very strong. Whether or not they might regret that choice later is a different story. I nearly did."

"Nearly? I think a small part of you regrets it even now," teased Lukas.

"Only because it was such an arrogant cad of a Maharian," said Clara. "I'm sure a more respectful, grateful, man of your country, or a woman, would not have bothered me a whit." She paused for a moment. "Your Princess Kasimira sounds like a good woman. I wish we had more like her here, in places of power. Of course, if she were in Lotharis, she wouldn't be able to command the same respect; Lotharisians would scorn the influence of a woman. As a Healer, I am owed a small measure of respect, but only because of my abilities."

"That's one of the main differences between our two countries, and why they split in the first place."

"Split?" Clara was confused.

"Long, long ago, before anyone today alive was even born, Lotharis and Maharia were one country." Clara eyed him skeptically, but he continued, "It's not widely known and almost never discussed. The kings of our countries don't like to admit to sharing roots, so great is their hate of each other. The name of our unified country has been lost to the ages, but the story goes that there was a king our the land who had twin children, a boy and girl. The girl was born first by a few minutes, so by rights should have been the ruler. Not everyone felt the same.

"As the children grew, the male child gained more supporters, who whispered into his ear and poisoned him against his sister. They also fostered supporters in the villages and cities around the castle, inciting riots on his behalf. The old king was bothered by the angry mobs, but by the law of the land could not disinherit his daughter, the first-born, in favor of his son. The daughter had her supporters as well, those who followed the law of our country and weren't foolish enough to discount a woman as ruler. The country was at war with itself, and it only grew worse and worse as the king grew older.