Chapter Four - Trust

The moon was full, casting bright light over the road. Even so, there was only so long Órlaith and Leolin could keep going – the darker it grew, the more likely it became that one of the horses could slip, or even that Órlaith or Leolin could fall. That wasn't even considering their exhaustion. Órlaith wasn't certain about Leolin, but she knew how stressful a day it had been for her - it must have been exhausting for Leolin, too.

Once she thought they'd covered enough distance, Órlaith tugged Aelis gently to a halt. Leolin copied after a moment, though Cian would have slowed on his own - the old gelding was more than used to following behind a leader.

"Something wrong?" Leolin asked, glancing around. The moonlight cast a soft glow over him, limning his white hair with silver. Órlaith couldn't help staring at it - part of her was caught on how pretty it looked, the glimmer of the edges, and part of her wondered how her own hair might look, when the dye eventually faded. Would it glow like that?

"Órlaith," Leolin said, and she startled a little, tearing her eyes away from Leolin's hair. She was even more tired than she'd thought, if she was over-focusing on things like that.

"Nothing's wrong," she said, after she'd taken a second to remember what Leolin had asked. "Just - we need to stop for the night. It's getting too dark for the horses, and I think we should be far enough away that it's safe." At least for now, she didn't say - didn't need to. They both knew that they could be living on borrowed time, no matter what Meredi had promised.

"You're the expert," Leolin said, patting a hand gingerly down the side of Cian's neck. The gelding tolerated it patiently. "Can we - we probably should avoid staying too close to the road?"

Órlaith nodded. "We'll go off the road a ways," she said. "But as long as we're on the move again early enough, we shouldn't be noticed. This road isn't busy." She glanced at the terrain, then slipped down from Aelis. "Here, it'll be easier for them if they don't have to carry us as well."

Leolin dismounted more carefully than Órlaith, and followed her into the low brush that edged the road, Cian plodding behind him. Aelis grumbled a little at the change in terrain, but settled once Órlaith clicked her tongue at the mare.

"I suppose you're used to this kind of thing, with travelling," Leolin said after a few minutes. He sounded... wistful, almost.

Órlaith thought back to the caravan, to a lifetime of wandering, new places and new people every time she looked but always, always, that familiar comfort of home to return to. She had to swallow back tears before she could answer.

"Yes. It was - sometimes we slept in the wagons, and sometimes in tents. But we always went a bit away from the road, for privacy. It was... nice." Nice didn't really begin to encapsulate it. But Órlaith had no idea where to begin, what words would be enough to let Leolin understand what it had been like. What Órlaith had lost.

"I wish..." Leolin trailed off. "Not that - I don't want to dismiss - I know that you lost your family. I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault," Órlaith said, just like she had earlier.

"Isn't it?" Leolin's voice was so soft that he probably hadn't meant for Órlaith to hear it. Before she could decide whether to say anything, he went on, "What I mean is that sometimes - well, often - I wish I'd had... something like that. Family, I suppose."

Órlaith remembered what little he'd told her when they first met. It had only been yesterday, or maybe the day before, now, and yet it seemed like years ago with everything that had happened since. He'd been sold, more or less. She couldn't imagine a family like that would be one worth the name. And of course she'd offered to take him with them, told him that the caravan would take him in, but then...

"You can," she said, not sure if she was lying or not. "When we reach the City. There'll be people there who'll accept us. Family isn't only blood - I wasn't blood-related to most of the people in the caravan, but they were still... They were my family."

"I hope so."

After that, they walked in silence until Órlaith decided that they'd gone far enough from the road to be safe. She untacked the horses, guiding Leolin quietly through the process - it'd be easier for them both if he learnt how. Then she tethered them whilst Leolin set up a makeshift camp. Apparently that was one of the few survival techniques the magehunters had let him learn, since it was useful to them at times. There was enough grass around to let the horses fend for themselves - lucky, given that they'd barely managed to bring food for themselves, let alone the horses as well.

They shared a few pieces of dry bread and cheese, sitting together under the stars. They'd started off with distance between them, but the night was cool, and Órlaith was tired. Before long, she found herself leaning against Leolin's side. He startled at first, then sighed softly and leaned back against her.

"We made it out," she said, voice barely a whisper. In the quiet of the night, no sound but the horses' gentle breathing and the occasional night-bird, it felt wrong to speak any louder.

"For now," Leolin said, just as softly. "Thank you, Órlaith. Without you, I..." He trailed off, and she felt him shake his head. "I don't know how I would have gotten out of there. I ran from them, but I didn't have a plan."

"You'd have found a way," Órlaith murmured. Her eyes were slipping closed, heavy with sleep, and if Leolin answered, she didn't hear it.

---

Órlaith woke with the dawn and with a crick in her neck. Probably because she and Leolin had fallen asleep on each other at a nasty angle; he'd be worse off when he woke, saddlesore on top of the neckache. For now, though, he was still asleep, apparently not used to waking with the dawn like Órlaith was. Then again, maybe he was just even more exhausted than her - had he even slept, that night after they'd met? Órlaith wouldn't have, if she were being hunted like he had been.

She shifted away from Leolin as carefully as she could, not wanting to wake him just yet. Then she stood and stretched, grimacing as her back cracked loud enough that Aelis looked up from where she'd been grazing, one ear flicking forward.

That was when it hit her. Again.

Órlaith swallowed, and pressed her lips together tightly. She went over to the horses, wrapped her arms around Aelis' neck, and just held on for a few minutes.

Gone. All of them, gone. Everything Órlaith had ever known, everyone she'd ever cared about, her family, her world, gone. Just like that. Just because of a few men wanting power badly enough to hunt and enslave and kill for it. Because of them, she had nothing.

Órlaith let herself cry, very quietly, into Aelis' mane for a while.

Eventually the mare whickered and moved away. Órlaith let her go, wiping at her face.

It wasn't quite true, she realised, what she'd thought earlier. She hadn't lost everything, not exactly. Her family, the caravan, yes.

But she had Leolin, even if they hadn't known each other for long yet. She had the places she'd been, all of the towns and cities and everywhere else she'd visited. She had the people she'd met, and Meredi was proof that maybe more of them remembered her than she had thought. And she had herself and her magic, just like she always had. Just like she always would.

And so long as Órlaith had herself, in a way she had her family. They were gone. She'd never see them again. But she could remember them.

Sometimes, that was all you could hope for.

When Órlaith turned back to their makeshift campsite, Leolin was awake, his green eyes fixed on her. It was probably obvious that she'd been crying, especially since he'd probably been awake long enough to hear her, so Órlaith didn't bother trying to hide it.

"Good morning," she said, her voice a little shaky, and sat down next to Leolin.

"Good morning," he said, watching her and chewing his lip. "Are... you okay?"

"No," Órlaith said. Leolin winced, and Órlaith realised that had probably been blunter than she'd intended. "But I will be," she added. "With time."

Leolin nodded. A moment or two later, he offered, "I don't have much experience - well. Any experience, really. I don't know what it is you're feeling right now, I haven't had anyone I'd really care about losing before. But... if there's anything I can do to help, or even if you want to just talk about it..."

"Thank you," Órlaith said. Nobody? He'd really never had anyone he cared about before? Órlaith wasn't sure if that was better or worse - no, that wasn't true. She would rather have known her family and lost them than have never known them at all. "I'll... I might do, maybe. But not right now."

Leolin nodded, and between them they packed up the camp in silence, eating a small breakfast of nuts and dried meat as they went. Once they were done, Órlaith showed Leolin how to tack up the horses - he picked it up quickly, and after a quick glance at the lightening sky, Órlaith decided they had time for him to practice tacking and untacking a few times. Cian bore it with good grace, and tolerated Leolin's clumsy clamber (marginally less ungainly than before) when they got to the road, as well.

By the time the sun was fully over the horizon, they were on the road again. Órlaith glanced behind them, frowning. She couldn't make out the town from here, but she could see a shadow on the horizon that had to be it. They hadn't made especially good time yesterday, especially given that they'd been travelling in the dark. But if they were restricted to a walk - and a slow one, with Cian's relaxed gait - it would take them too long to reach Caelkirk, where her uncle lived.

"How do you feel about learning to trot?" she asked, slowing Aelis til she was in line with Leolin and Cian.

Leolin stared at her.

"That could end badly," he said, and she realised his knuckles were nearly white with how hard he was gripping the reins.

"Not like that," she said, reaching out to correct him without thinking. "Here, hold them more loosely, the horse feels everything through the reins so gentler is better."

Leolin's hands were warm, the skin surprisingly soft beneath Órlaith's own calloused fingertips. She glanced back up at Leolin's face. His eyes were very wide, and there was a faint hint of pink on his cheeks.

She was still holding his hands. Órlaith dropped them and lurched back into Aelis' saddle, feeling a blush rise to her own face.

"Gentler," Leolin said after a moment, sounding a little strained. "Right. Yes. I'll - I'll remember." He leaned forward to pat at Cian's neck, not looking at Órlaith.

"Anyway," Órlaith said a little too loudly, "anyway - like I said, let's teach you how to trot, or we're going to make really bad time, and we should travel quickly if we can, to save provisions and to try and avoid being followed or anything like that. Right?"

"Right," Leolin agreed, nodding. "Right, yes. Where do I start?"

"You nudge him to speed up - with Cian it can be a little difficult, he likes to take life more slowly, but it'll be easier since he's following Aelis. Then you -" Órlaith demonstrated, urging Aelis on. She had to pull her back a little when Aelis seemed about to canter, but the mare settled a little grudgingly into a trot. "Up and down, like this, in time with the horse's movements. It takes a little getting used to, but once you get used to it, it's not too difficult."

"Up and down," Leolin muttered, watching Órlaith's smooth rise and fall. She was well-practised, especially with Aelis - it had been a little while since she last really rode, but like she had told Leolin, it was simple enough to remember once you were used to the movement. "Alright."

Órlaith kept an eye on them both as Leolin chivvied Cian into a trot. She winced as he thudded into the saddle to start with - another reason she'd chosen Cian for him to ride, since a moodier horse like Aelis would only put up with that for so long before refusing to trot or even throwing her rider. After a few uncomfortable-looking minutes, though, Leolin seemed to get the hang of it.

"That's it," Órlaith said, slowing them back to a walk again. "We can keep trying it - we'll swap between walking and trotting today, and it will still be faster than only walking."

"I can continue," Leolin said, frowning. "Like you said, we need to go faster."

Órlaith shook her head. "You probably already ache from yesterday, and it's better to practice in short bouts. Better for Cian, too," she added. "If your form isn't good, then it's uncomfortable for the horse as well."

So they kept moving, alternating between walking and trotting. As the morning wore on, they started to see others - not many, this road was a quiet one for the most part. That was why Órlaith had picked it. But enough that Leolin grew steadily tenser and quieter. When Órlaith had first heard someone approaching, she'd leaned over to Leolin and draped a scarf over his head, covering his hair, but it wasn't ideal. Really, what they needed was some kind of dye, like Órlaith had always used. But they were far from the markets the caravan had bought it from, and it would be suspicious for them to buy it anyway. The caravan had been able to claim that it was to dye fabrics, and they did use it for that too. Two people, one obviously nervous and covering his hair? That would be conspicuous, even if there had been any markets on their route.

Around midday, trees began to crop up along the side of the road - little scrubby things at first, but it wasn't long before the woods grew taller and thicker. Órlaith was glad for the shade now that the heat of the day was really beginning to beat down, but there was something else tickling at her memory too.

"A rest station," she realised aloud, and Leolin glanced at her, reaching up to adjust the scarf wrapped around his head.

"Where?" he asked, looking around - Órlaith could understand his confusion, given that the only thing surrounding them right now was woodland.

"Not yet," she said. "But I remember this now - we didn't come through here often, but there's a rest stop a little way into the forest. It shouldn't be long - we can stop, let the horses rest, maybe pick up some more supplies."

"We don't have any money," Leolin pointed out, and Órlaith grinned.

"Yes, we do," she said. "I checked the bags - Meredi must have done it, because they would have been empty when they were stored in the caravan. There's not much, but it will be enough to help us a little."

"They really wanted to help us," Leolin said, shaking his head. "That's... I have to admit it, Órlaith, I don't understand. Why, when they barely knew us beyond what we are?"

"Because most people care," Órlaith said. Her tone was firm. It was something she'd always believed, no matter what - in the end, people cared. People wanted to help others. It was just that sometimes people got convinced that they shouldn't or didn't want to help, for whatever reason. "Most people care, and if they think it's the right thing, then they'll do it." She hesitated, thinking back to times when things hadn't gone so well. "Even if sometimes you need to convince people to care about you, and to see you as you, not just..."

"Not just a spellweaver," Leolin completed. "Not just the monsters they fear."

Órlaith nodded. "It's different," she said. "It's one thing if all you're told is that spellweavers are powerful and terrifying, and that they hurt people - even if it's at the command of others, like magehunters. Then it's easy for people to be afraid of us, because they've been told they should be, and why should they think any differently? But if your neighbour's child is a spellweaver, and you know they wouldn't ever hurt a fly, and you've seen them grow up and learn to walk and talk... then it's harder for someone to believe that spellweavers are frightening."

"Fear is only of the unknown," Leolin murmured, and it sounded like he was quoting something or someone. "I suppose I see what you mean."

"You don't sound convinced, though."

Leolin shrugged. "It's difficult," he said after a moment. "You had - well. I'm sorry to bring them up. But you grew up with people who cared. I... didn't. So, it's like you said. Without any evidence except Meredi - and you - it's difficult for me to believe that people would care or want to help us."

Órlaith nodded. She could see where Leolin was coming from, she supposed, even if she couldn't quite understand it. It had always been difficult for her to fully wrap her head around perspectives that were wildly different from her own - she could understand that people had different views, of course, and she could understand what those views were, and even why they might hold them, from a logical view. But it had always seemed like there was a gulf of sorts between her and them, a gulf that neither could cross no matter how hard they tried.

It was fine, though. She would show Leolin, as much as she could. And then maybe he would start to come around to her point of view - or maybe he wouldn't, and he would never really trust strangers. That was okay. It wasn't like everyone was as open to meeting new people as Órlaith, after all.

"I can understand it more if people get something out of it, I suppose," Leolin added. "Like you - you're like me. So I know you're not going to hand me over to magehunters, because they'd just take you as well. Someone like Meredi, though, or anyone else..." He shrugged.

"You can't know if they're safe," Órlaith said. "Not unless you have a reason to think they are."

"Exactly," Leolin said. "Don't misunderstand me, though, I'm glad you think like that, Órlaith. I'm glad you're able to, that you had the chance to. I just... don't know how to trust like that."

They rode on in silence.

---

After a brief pause at the rest stop, where Órlaith luckily wasn't recognised (she had been afraid of having to answer questions about why she was there without the rest of the caravan), they pressed on until early evening. Leolin had started wincing with every step Cian took, and Órlaith grimaced in sympathy. After a full day in the saddle, even she ached; for Leolin, who wasn't remotely used to riding, she didn't want to imagine what it felt like.

Órlaith called a halt as soon as she spotted a landmark she remembered, dismounting with a hiss of pain. Leolin nearly fell over once his feet hit the floor, barely catching himself against Cian.

"Shouldn't we keep going?" he asked once he'd regained his balance. "It's still light, and we need to keep moving."

"Not now," Órlaith said. "The dark comes in quickly in a forest. And I don't know about you, but I ache. We'll all be better off for a rest. And I know a safe place near here, but if we kept going I don't know how long it'd be until we found somewhere else."

"Lead the way, then," Leolin said, sounding grateful despite his desire to keep going.

The clearing they went to was one Órlaith knew. The caravan had never used it - it was far too small for a wagon. But there was just about enough room for two horses and two humans. They went through the various necessities - setting up camp, untacking and tethering the horses, making sure they would be ready to run if they had to - and then, finally, they could rest. Órlaith slumped against a tree with a groan, and Leolin joined her a moment later.

"How far did you say it was?" Leolin asked a while later, when Órlaith had nearly nodded off.

"Few days," she mumbled, only half-awake. Leolin sighed.

"Not going to have any legs left by the time we get there," he muttered, and Órlaith snorted out a laugh as she drifted off to sleep.

---

The next day, once they were back on the road again, Leolin asked, "This uncle of yours, the one we're hoping can help us. What is he like?"

Órlaith thought back to the times she'd met him, when she was much younger. It had been quite a while since the caravan last visited Caelkirk, though she knew her mother kept in touch - had kept in touch - by letter.

"I don't remember that much," she said. "But I remember he was kind, and he would tell you things if you asked. In a way that was right for children. But that meant a lot - often people don't have an answer for children's questions, or they don't have time to answer them. But Aneirin - that's what he's called - he would always listen, and then if he knew, he would tell you. He works in a library, or he did then, so he knew answers to most of my questions."

"What if he didn't know the answer?"

"He would try and find out," Órlaith said, smiling. "I remember once, I was absolutely determined to know why the sky was the colour it was - not just blue, but all the greys and the pinks and reds and yellows of sunrise and sunset, too. I must have spent weeks asking the rest of the caravan and everyone else I met, and nobody had an answer for me. Sometimes people would try to pass me off with some ridiculous answer that made no sense - the kind people like to give to children, you know?"

"I don't," Leolin admitted.

Órlaith winced. "Right. Sorry. There's - some people think it's funny or cute when children want to know something, so they'll try to give them silly answers instead of just admitting they don't know. I hated that, more than anything - with the colour of the sky, they'd tell me it was sprites, or that magic made it like that for us to enjoy, and I knew it wasn't right because they could never prove it to me. So I kept asking people. Eventually, I got to uncle Aneirin, since we were going to visit him around then anyway -" Órlaith paused. "Or maybe we went there because nobody could answer me. I never thought of that before, but I think people were getting frustrated - I mean, I was getting frustrated as well, with the way nobody had a proper answer for me.

"Anyway, Aneirin didn't know either. But he took me to the library, and we looked at all the books we could find together, and he tried. That's what I always remember about him, really. That he tried to help me find answers, even when everyone else had given up."

Leolin was quiet for a little while, apparently taking it all in. Órlaith didn't blame him - she knew she'd rambled a little there. But it wasn't often she got to share an anecdote like that, since the caravan had always heard them all before.

When he spoke, it wasn't what she'd expected.

"Did you ever find out why the sky is different colours? I mean, I hadn't thought about it before. But now I'm wondering too." There was a faint smile on his face.

Órlaith laughed. "No," she admitted. "No, even when we looked we couldn't find out why. A few theories about it, but nothing definite. We could at least say we looked, though."

"He sounds like a good person, your uncle," Leolin said. "I hope..." He trailed off. Then he shook his head. "I hope you're right. About what you said the other day, people wanting to help. Especially people who know you."

He put a little bit of emphasis on the last word, and Órlaith flushed. Did he mean - no, he couldn't be just talking about her. It wasn't just because of knowing Órlaith that Meredi had helped them - it would have been the same for anyone they'd known already.

"You'll see," Órlaith said. "When you meet Aneirin, you'll understand - he always wanted to help however he could. Even when we found out I was a spellweaver."

"He knows, then," Leolin said. "And he never did anything about it?"

Órlaith shook her head. "Never," she said. "He might live in a city, but he was always one of us at heart. Always part of the caravan." She shrugged. "You just can't really be a librarian very easily if you're always travelling, so he didn't travel. But he wanted to help, when he found out - I don't remember much, I was too young, but he spoke to my mother privately a few times about it. When I asked her, she told me he'd tried to find ways to help hide me. That's why I thought he might know something about the City."

"If he does..." Leolin glanced at her. "Would you want to go? Or would you rather stay with your uncle? It's not going to be easy getting there. We might not make it. And he'd let you stay, wouldn't he? It'd be safer for you."

"Maybe," Órlaith said, shrugging. "Maybe it wouldn't. He'd let you stay as well, Leolin. But I don't think either of us wants to do that. I'm used to travelling all the time, seeing new places. I don't think I could ever be happy stuck living in the same place all the time, not really."

"Funny," Leolin murmured. "I feel the exact opposite. I want the City to have - so that I have somewhere I belong. Somewhere I can stay, somewhere I can make a home. Somewhere safe."

They were quiet for a while after that. The horses' hoofbeats echoed softly off the trees, punctuated by the occasional flurry of wingbeats as a startled bird took flight.

"I hope you can have that," Órlaith said eventually. "And I hope the City will be where you find it."