#anybelle

  “Father Joseph!” a sweet little voice greeted from behind, and he turned to find a mess of chestnut curls and a brilliant smile.

“Lady Belle,” Father Joseph bowed his head, respectively, and the little girl beamed at him.

“Are you attending the festival tomorrow?” Belle asked, hands behind her back, curls swaying on her shoulders.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” He laughed as Belle’s smile grew even wider.

“Wonderful!” Belle swung her hands out in front of her, a ring of daisies and periwinkles held in her palms. “I made this for you to wear.”

Father Joseph stared in awe at the intricate ring of white and blue flowers. “It’s beautiful, my Lady.” He knelt to one knee before her, bowing his head. The sound of her delighted giggle echoed in his ear as she placed it upon his head.

***

With a sharp intake of breath, Father Joseph bolted upright, peering around frantically. He’d heard a noise. Maybe it was just a passing animal or a twig dropping, but he did not wish to take any chances.

The last two nights were agonizing. Lady Belle was in great pain, but she tried desperately to conceal it. They’d come across an outpost the day before, and Joseph ventured cautiously to it to buy rations and alcohol. He brought enough coins to last a week or so – and maybe that would bring them far from the Marchlands – but the need for money would come upon them soon.

He did not eat, giving all the food to Lady Belle, hoping it would keep up her strength. He used the alcohol to clean her wounds, and in the worse possible moments when her pain became too much to bear, he forced her to take swigs – and ultimately steal a few himself after she was settled.

The dawn broke an hour after he was abruptly roused from a shallow sleep. They needed to be on their way, to find a town with an inn to take a good night’s rest and recuperate from the two days in the wilderness. Lady Belle was still unsteady on her feet, but with his aid, she could walk at a slow pace. Carrying her became harder as his strength wore thin from no food and barely any rest.

The town did come close to evening on the third day. They waited in the cover of the trees for nightfall. She’d fallen asleep against him as they waited sitting against a fallen log, her head on his shoulder, his arm protectively about her. Belle’s breathing was still ragged, but it seemed easier for her to take a breath now. She seemed so fragile, this slip of a girl beside him, but oh, how strong she truly was. In her chest beat a courageous heart that if only he could have a tiny piece of her courage, he could move mountains.

Joseph pressed a kiss to Lady Belle’s tangled hair. Evening had finally set. It was time to venture into the town.

He fixed the hood of the dirt-stained robes Lady Belle still adorned, hoping the disguise would endure a bit further. She gave him a small smile of reassurance, and that was enough to calm the storm roaring in his stomach.

It was agonizing, but he left her outside the tavern sitting on a barrel as he ambled inside to secure a room in the inn upstairs. His heart didn’t stop racing out of his chest until they were both safely locked away. There was only one bed, and Lady Belle eased down carefully to sit.

“I’ll sleep on the floor,” he informed, though the wooden floor seemed less than appealing. It was the honorable thing to do even if the last two nights Lady Belle had slept beside him.

Joseph knelt before Belle, untying the tattered robes. A slim hand caught his own halting his progress, and he stared at the dirt-filled nails and pale fingers upon his hand.

“You will do none-the-sort, Father” Lady Belle murmured. He gazed up, meeting pure blues eyes that had always pierced his soul. “You have taken care of me, protected me, save me from death.” The words seemed heavy in the still air. “You deserve to rest comfortably.”

Joseph’s eyes warmed. “You need the comfort more than I do, my Lady.”

In the end, there was no arguing with Lady Belle. She knew there was no need for proper etiquette anymore, not when both were fugitives on the run from certain death - she no longer nobility, he no longer a cleric. He agreed to share the bed with her, after all it was large enough for them both, but he insisted on sleeping above the bedclothes.

After a warm meal – it was a luxury to eat warm food, Joseph set to cleaning her wounds and placing fresh bandages over them. They washed from the basin on the table and finished preparing to sleep for the night. Tomorrow would bring new clothes, more supplies, and maybe a horse to travel on.

Lady Belle curled in a ball under the woolen bedclothes; her back spooned against his front. Joseph wrapped an arm around her waist, snuggling closer to share warmth. It felt as if the world was a little safer with Lady Belle beside him. Her back moving as she breathed gave him comfort from the overwhelming panic that threatened to take hold of him at any moment.

Eventually sleep overcame him, the warmth and comfort of the room and the company relaxing his frayed nerves.

***

A blood curdling scream nearly sent Joseph reeling off the edge of the bed. He scrambled to sit up only to be slapped in the face by the back of a hand. Panic flooded his mind and his breath seized in his throat. They’d been found!

In the moonlight spilling in through the window, he saw no intruders storming the room, only Lady Belle beside him caught in a nightmare of unimaginable horrors. She struck out fiercely at her invisible captors desperate to escape. Joseph seized her flailing limbs, wrapping arms about her from behind, pinning her and pulling Belle to his chest.

“It’s me, Belle” he hissed in her ear, “You are safe, my Lady.”

Lady Belle let go of a deep sob that wracked her entire body as Joseph murmured comforts of reassurance. Her hot tears dropped and splattered noisily onto his shirt sleeves and exposed wrists. “You’re safe, you’re safe” he repeated over and over, trying to calm his own fears as much as hers. Lady Belle leaned back, resting the back of her head on his shoulder, her sobs and whimpers quieting.

They both nearly jumped out their skins at a pounding on the door. Joseph hissed a curse, fear flooding his entire body. They had drawn attention to themselves, and he beat himself mentally for risking their lives for the comfort of a soft bed and warm shelter.

“Stay here and keep your face hidden,” he whispered, leaving the bed. He swallowed the lump in his throat before opening the door to reveal their doom.

The innkeeper stood imposingly over the threshold, a lamp hanging from his grasp. “Is there trouble in here?” he asked gruffly. “A scream was heard from this room.”

Joseph stooped a little, trying to make himself appear as unimposing as possible. “My apologies, sir,” he said in a small voice, “my wife is plagued with night terrors some nights. I have calmed her.”

The innkeeper shone the lamplight into the room, peering around Joseph to check the woman sitting still as a statue on the side of the bed. Her head was hung, a curtain of tangled hair hiding most of her face, but she nodded in agreement to Joseph and that seemed enough for the innkeeper. The man moved on with a warning to Joseph to watch his wife more carefully.

Joseph shut the door quickly, a whimper escaping him. He pressed his back to the door, sliding down to the floor, and head in hands as he tried calming his raging nerves. He flinched when a hand touched his shoulder, and there was Lady Belle kneeling in front of him. She proffered the flask of alcohol he kept in the inner pocket of his robe. He took it, shakily downing several swigs before corking the stop.