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43-Thrilling Gossip

“Rydderhall?” I demanded. “Any relation to Quilleran Rydderick?”

Jemin followed my gaze. “I will tell you, my lady, if you will come back inside the villa.”

Fair enough. I followed him back through the doorway and as he kept going over the pile of pillars and down one of the hallways that was still reasonably intact. We stopped at a circular room lined with windows that looked out at a tiny walled garden. “You know your way around this house, too,” I accused, taking a seat on a windowsill.

“Yes, I do,” confessed Jemin, settling in the next window. “Vaudrin does, also.”

“It belongs to Quill, doesn’t it?”

“By rights, it is his. But the Nether Queen forbade it from being rebuilt—there are many in the city who support her reign, she would find out if she were defied. Add that Quill’s survival was very likely an oversight, and you can see why it remains a ruin.”

I waved my hand, “That part isn’t a mystery. Who are the Rydderick’s that they garnered such treatment?”

“Quill told you that when you arrived,” replied Jemin, “Lord Rydderick was a formidable officer in the war, and the rumors say he came close to reaching the queen herself in a battle.”

I was unsatisfied, and apparently looked it because Jemin added, “You can ask Quill yourself if you want more details about his past. It’s not my place to tell his secrets.”

He was right, of course. “Alright, then, tell me about you.”

Jemin opened his mouth to object, then closed it. “Alright, your highness,” he used my proper title to show his displeasure. It made me feel delightfully at home. “I’m the lesser son of a lesser lord with a small holding. I joined the guard the same time Quill and Vaudrin did, and we became friends.”

“That wasn’t too terribly hard,” I replied. I wanted to ask him more but decided to press my luck in other ways. “Now,” I said, “Tell me about that gossip you mentioned earlier.”

Jemin leaned back and rubbed his hand through his beard, as if this wasn’t really an improvement in topics.

“Oh, come now,” I exclaimed, “It can’t be more scandalous than anything I heard while I was princess in Galhara.”

“No,” Jemin shifted again and took a deep breath. “I was going to have to tell anyway, I expect. You, well…you have made quite an impression on a number of soldiers between here and the garrison in Gillenwater.”

I stared at him, “What do you mean?”

He continued, “Soldiers love to talk even more than court ladies. When we went down to the taverns in the city everyone was talking about a girl—perhaps a ghost or a sorceress—who was attacking soldiers and freeing prisoners. They say she spoke of judgement and vengeance at each turn. Of course, there are those who believe she is flesh and blood, but most of the stories agree that she is undead or magical somehow—because how else could a mere girl wreak such havoc among the queen’s armies?”

I laughed. “Really?” There must be a downside to this, but at the moment I was entertained.

“Really. If they didn’t believe initially, they may have convinced themselves thusly to save their own hides.”  Jemin shook his head. “There are stories I recognize from our mission in Gillenwater and the rescue by the Cymerie. But it seems that every strange happening or failed duty is turning into a ‘I saw her also!’ story.”

“Incredible.”

“Indeed.”

“Is it useful, you think?”

“Maybe. The king thinks it might be.”

“King Tarr? You have spoken with him?” I asked, leaning forward. Tarr Kegan was seventeen or eighteen now, but had been crowned five years ago when Dalyn was conquered. A mere lad, he’d been set up as a puppet—the rightful heir, so harder to argue with—but really controlled by the Queen and her ambassadors. I wondered what he was like.

“Quill spoke with the king,” corrected Jemin. “Once the doctor is finished I am to speak with your father about the next steps.”

“Are we to go into the city?”

“That is ultimately for your father to decide.”

“If we did, would we have to sneak in as peasants? Or would we pose as visiting nobles to make it easier to move about the court? With better tack Hook and Sinker would fit that part well enough.”

Jemin shifted, “I’m not certain. Some of that depends on what your father decides. But also, you could not all come openly—your parents are too recognizable, and the soldiers from Gillenwater are still in the city. We could not risk them seeing your parents or sister. Possibly not even you.”

“I suppose that means Ayglos and Namal will get their chance for daring deeds.”

“That’s possible.”

I wrinkled my nose. I tried not to be too disappointed as I thought of weeks closeted in hiding somewhere waiting for things to happen. It would be restful. Restful was good.

Jemin laughed. “You are the most unusual princess I have ever had the pleasure to fight beside.”

“What?” I tried not to grin. Pleasure to fight beside.

“You look like a puppy being left behind by its master at the mere thought of being out of the action.”

“I want to help.” My protest sounded thin, even to me.

Jemin stood to his feet, his eyes sparkling, and offered me a hand up, “Shall we go check to see if the doctor is through?”

“Jemin,” I accepted his hand and then swept down the hall as regally as I could, “Is Quill the Captain of the Guard?”

“Yes.”

“How on earth did he get away for so long?”

“It was a holiday.”

I stopped, “What an awful holiday. How does he explain his wounds?”

“Hunting trip,” Jemin grinned. “He will not be hunting with that neighbor again.”

“How is he Captain of the Guard when his family was so singled out by the Nether Queen?”

“You are full of questions.”

“Yes, but this hardly qualifies as prying into his past.” We were climbing over the rubble before the great hall now, where my brothers were wrestling and the horses loitering.

“He took a different last name when he joined the guard,” explained the big man. “He goes by Quilleran Silver.”

“Huh,” we crossed the great hall and headed for the kitchen. “I don’t think I like it so well as a Rydderick.”

“I don’t think he does, either.”

Click here for Episode 44!

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42- Rydderhall

 

Nadine and I sprang to our feet and darted away from the window opening. “Blast it, Hook,” I hissed. The riders were approaching quickly and if they hadn’t been headed to the villa already they certainly would be now. One hand on my daggers I started moving toward the kitchen, Nadine followed. I could hear the horses turning in to the little court yard before the back door. Stopping by a hole, I peered through the wall at the two men dismounting on the other side. I grinned when I recognized the burly form of Jemin. “It’s alright!” I cried, as Ayglos and Namal came running from the great hall. “It’s Jemin!”

My brothers heard me, but kept their hands on their weapons as they reached the door and stepped out to meet the arrivals.

Jemin came to meet them with a grin and a bow, “How have you fared, my lords?”

“We are well,” replied Namal, inclining his head in princely acknowledgement, and then turning his gaze to the stranger with Jemin. “Who is your companion?”

“I have brought a doctor.” Jemin gestured, “This is Rawyn Drayk, one of the finest doctors in all of Daiesen.”

Rawyn Drayk stepped forward, saddle bags slung over his shoulder, and bowed. He was old, but wiry and radiating energy. He had close trimmed white hair and beard, and his dark clothes were both well-made and unassuming. “I have been told that there is a wounded creature here who needs my help,” said the doctor.

Namal bowed slightly and moved aside, “Please, come in, and welcome.”

Namal led the doctor inside, and Jemin and Ayglos followed with the horses. Nadine was gliding to meet them even before they were in the entryway. “Doctor,” she stretched out her hand, “Thank you for coming.”

The doctor took her hand and bowed, touching it to his forehead. “My lady,” he replied.

Watching the exchange, it was easy to forget that there was no roof on this place and the walls were blackened and crumbling around us. I wondered how much the doctor had been told about us, and how much he would know once he saw our father.

“Please, follow me.” Nadine turned and the doctor followed her down the hallway toward our cellar.

The rest of us lingered in the entryway. Helping Boitumelo with Remko had been hard enough, I didn’t want to have to help with my own father. My brothers were likely entertaining similar thoughts, because Ayglos said, “Let’s see to the horses, shall we?”

The four of us led the horses to the great hall where Hook and Sinker were already grazing. As we walked, Jemin explained their cover, “We’re expected back in the city before nightfall. I have ridden with the good doctor in escort on a visit to one of the nearby villas—the caretaker is old and much loved by the family; he has been ill and the family wanted him checked on. Rawyn Drayk is one of the best physicians in Dalyn. He is a kind soul who only wants to heal, he will not betray your secrets.”

We tied the horses to the water fountain with enough line to let them graze a little. Hook and Sinker investigated the newcomers and settled into grazing nearby.

“Well,” I said, “I was going to explore the villa.”

“Don’t wander far,” Namal replied. He was already moving off to a spot clear of the horses and taking off his sword belt. “Ayglos and I will be here wrestling for a while yet.”

“Jemin?” I asked, “Would you like to join us?”

Jemin hesitated.

“If you’re worried about me getting into trouble, then you should come along, because I am going to explore.” I was quite experienced with persuading reluctant companions.

The burly man grimaced. “I will accompany you.”

“Excellent.” I turned and headed toward the front of the villa this time. The past two days we’d stayed at the back of the villa, Nadine and I had started at the back and hadn’t gotten far, so I wanted to start someplace new.

Jemin jogged to catch up with me. He was wearing an unremarkable gray cloak, but underneath was a dark blue uniform trimmed in gold. The golden river of Dalyn circled on his shoulder. I remembered back to the tavern in Gillenwater and marveled at how unlike the simple country workman he seemed now.

“So, what news from Dalyn?” I asked as we reached the end of the great hall.

“We all arrived safely back in our various ways,” replied Jemin, giving me a hand over some fallen pillars. “Dalyn is much as we left it. Though…” he paused and I looked at him with raised brows.

“Though?”

“Though the gossip is more thrilling than when we left,” he hopped off the pillars.

“I would imagine they have a lot to talk about.” I ignored the hallway crossing our path and moved into what must have been a beautiful foyer—the floor was scattered with rubble, but underneath I could see a mosaic depicting fields and trees. The walls had been faced with smooth white stone, though now only pieces remained in place. “I bet they had a skylight in here,” I commented, picking my way forward and gesturing toward the sky.

“Why?” asked Jemin.

“Because I would have,” I replied. There were alcoves off to either side of the foyer. I could see the remains of chairs tucked in them. The front door to the villa was a dark, heavy wood that was bowed and splintering as if it had tangled with a battering ram. It hung half open, its hinges partially ripped from the door posts. Hunting scenes were carved all over both sides of the door. I touched the door gently, tracing my fingertips over the horsemen and stags until they were obliterated by the bludgeoning. I felt as if I were touching the embodiment of loss.

“My lady,” Jemin’s protest came as I slipped through the front door and stepped onto the front stoop. There was even more debris out here. Once, carriages would have been able to pull right up to these stairs, but now the generous courtyard was full of weeds, smashed crockery and furniture…as if the Nether Queen had first had her men break things by hand before burning the place down. Thorough of her.

Jemin squeezed himself out the front door and I turned to greet him, but the words died in my mouth. Across the lintel was carved the word Rydderhall. This place must belong to Quill. 

 

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41-Sister Talk

Quill and Jemin left at dawn after showing us where the well was. “You will be safe here for the time being,” said Quill. “The road is that way,” he pointed, “stay away from it.” There was another hedge of happy cypress trees, and who knew how many fields, between us and the road, but we promised to stay away. “One of the men you know will come back in a day or so to bring you supplies—a doctor if I can manage it—and hopefully word about an audience for you with the king.”

They headed back the way we’d come yesterday. I was disappointed that I didn’t get the chance to corner Jemin before they left, but that was forgotten quickly enough. After checking on the horses I went back to bed and slept for several more hours. In fact, most of the family did. For the next two days we barely stirred from the hideaway, even when we were awake. Our most daring act was on the morning of the third day: we built a fire to warm bath water and toast waybread.

Then I convinced Nadine to come explore the villa with me while Ayglos and Namal were sparring in the old great hall. We hadn’t gone far down the destroyed hallway from the kitchen when Nadine pulled me into an alcove and down beside her on an old window seat. “Now,” she commanded, “We are alone. Tell me the whole story—from beginning to end.”

I told her more than I’d told anyone: Starting with the counsel in the leopards’ wagon, the taming of Hook for Quill to ride. Then about finding Quill’s men—and finding out he was their captain–going back to Gillenwater with Jemin and the Tryber showing me the way into the garrison.

“We were already gone,” she put in ruefully.

I told her about the soldiers leading me to the girls, my impulsive intervention, and the ensuing daring escape. Nadine gasped at all the right parts and urged me to keep going when I paused at the homecoming. “We walked for days and days,” I replied, waving my hand. “First to rejoin the men, then to get as far away as we could, then to rescue you. We left the girls with Gabe and Balleck at the house of a friend, they’ll be going to rejoin the circus as soon as they’ve rested.”

“I bet Ayglos and Namal were upset you didn’t leave them any heroics to do in Gillenwater,” laughed Nadine, tossing a look toward the old great hall.

I laughed, “Probably.”

“What about Balleck?” asked my sister.

“What about him?” My cheeks warmed. I didn’t want to talk about Balleck.

“What did he think?” Nadine arched a brow, well aware she’d hit on something.

“He was glad enough to have Olena safe,” I replied.

Nadine studied me, looking for the things I hadn’t said. “What did he think when he found out who you were? Since I assume that secret didn’t last long past that captain recognizing father.”

I bit my lip. “He didn’t know what to think. Especially once we were with Quill’s men and I started doing dangerous things.” I paused, then charged ahead—Nadine would drag it out of me eventually anyway.  “Before we left to stop your caravan he asked me to go with him when they went back to the circus.”

Nadine sat back, her blue eyes widening, “Go with him? Just to be safe, or forever?”

I shifted. Technically he hadn’t said, but, “Both. I think.”

“Oh, Zare, and you said no.”

“I couldn’t say yes; my place is here.” I looked out the window. There had been glass panes once, but the jagged pieces that remained were blackened from the fire. “I can’t leave you, and I can’t leave the fight.”

Nadine grabbed my hand and squeezed it. “Do you think…that ended it? Until those soldiers came I was really expecting him to ask father about courting you before the year was over.”

I thought about the conversation Balleck and I had in the barn. “Oh yes, the possibility of us is gone.” The thought made me sad, but not as sad as I would have expected. I turned to Nadine, realizing with some surprise the fullness of what she’d said, “You expected me to marry a circus performer? So soon?”

“Well,” defended Nadine, spreading her hands, “Galhara burned, we were hiding, our dethroning seemed rather permanent. The circus wasn’t a bad life, you and Ayglos in particular were quite at home there. It didn’t feel so farfetched at the time.”

“Would you go back if you could?” I asked.

“To the circus?” Nadine thought about it. “I don’t know where else we’d go.”

“We could go anywhere.”

“Not really, we’d have to find a way to eat.”

I leaned against the wall and regarded her. “You would probably be married to what’s-his-name now if we hadn’t been besieged.” Even with the fear of the Nether Queen throwing all sorts of strange kinks into the chess game of marriage alliances, Nadine had been engaged. I didn’t think they’d been in love, but he was likeable prince from Charpolia, the city across the bay from Galhara.

Nadine looked out the window. “Yes,” she said slowly, “I probably would.”

“And I would be wading through suitors, complaining to you about the process,” I added.

This brought a smirk to my sister’s face, her eyes flicked back to me for a moment. “As entertaining as that would have been, I don’t mind missing that.”

“If this rebellion succeeds, we’ll be going back to that.”

Nadine turned back to me, “Would you rather have Balleck?” she asked.

I didn’t answer. Instead I turned back to the window and starred out at the overgrown lane and the cypress trees. I had already given up the circus, and I didn’t have a deep desire to go back. But I also wasn’t sure I wanted every aspect of royalty now that I’d tasted life away from it.

Just then two heads bobbed into view on horseback and I heard Hook whinny in greeting.

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40-Safehouse

 

“This is the back entrance,” explained Quilll, sounding apologetic as we filed in. “This passage leads to the main hall, and this to the left to the kitchens and larders. We can block the door behind us and turn the horses loose in the main hall—it’s grassy now and there is an old fountain we can fill for them from the well in the courtyard behind you.” He gestured broadly and led the way left toward the kitchen.

There was plenty of rubble around, and not much roof to cast shade even with the sun going down. But the hallway was passable and the six Galhari followed Quill while Jemin took the reins of the horses and headed for the main hall.

The house had been splendid once. Little bits of the carved trim remained on the walls, hinting at the taste and wealth of the former owners. The kitchen Quill led us to was huge and still had most of its ceiling. He kept going into what was clearly a sizeable pantry–sunken a few steps into the ground and lined with shelves that still held dusty jugs and jars. At first I thought he was looking for food, but he went straight to the back and pushed on a stone in the wall. With a soft clunk the wall swung open like a door on hinges, revealing another passageway leading down.

 “Follow me, we can rest in here,” Quill trotted down the steps familiarly and we followed.

“What better place for a secret room than with easy access to the pantry,” commented Ayglos when we’d reached the bottom.

“I believe the first lord intended it for a wine cellar,” Quill replied. “Then a later lord decided this one was far too small.”

“Too small?” I marveled. The room was plenty long, most of it was dark but there were slits in the walls near the ceiling that allowed daylight and fresh air inside. It appeared that the cellar had been used to store excess furniture, but only half-heartedly as the room was by no means full. There were chairs in stacks against one walls, a thin table, a bookshelf and a pair of wardrobes. Quill was rummaging in a corner and produced some candles and a lamp. Ayglos helped him light them while we looked for places to spread our beds.

“No one comes close to this villa, by order of the Nether Queen.” Quill hung the lamp from a hook on the inside wall. “But it is still safer down here than in the main house—warmer, also, and drier.”

“Why this villa?” I asked.

“The owner was one of her staunchest opponents during the war with Dalyn. They say that he killed one of her favorite commanders and nearly reached her in one of the last battles of the war. She didn’t forget. This place is an example of what happens to her enemies.” Quill’s voice sounded husky, but he turned back toward the stairs before I could ask more questions, “There are one or two others she destroyed to make a point, but this is the only one that she forbade to be rebuilt.”  Pausing at the foot of the stairs, he turned back and bowed, not meeting my eyes, “If you excuse me, I will see what I can do about water.”

I thought about following him to find out more; why did he know his place, to whom did it belong, had he truly been overcome with emotion just then? I decided that following would be too forward. I might ask Jemin, though.

Quill wasn’t gone long, but when he returned with Jemin we had quite a bit done. Ayglos and Namal had found eight serviceable chairs and set them around the thin little table. Nadine and I had spread the bedrolls deeper in the room, then with help dragged the wardrobes out a little to block view of the bedrolls from the stair—just a little more protection.

“You’ve been busy,” said Quill with a smile. He lofted a large, chipped, pitcher with one hand and pushed the hidden door closed with the other. Jemin was already lumbering down the stairs carrying a full bucket in one hand an empty basin in the other.

Ayglos and I met Jemin at the bottom of the stairs, Ayglos insisted on taking the bucket of water and I snatched the basin out of his other hand before he could protest.

“Thank you,” said Jemin, obviously feeling awkward.

I smiled at him, “You’ve done quite a lot for us, we’re grateful too.”

Quill reached the bottom of the stairs and Jemin reached out a hand for Quill’s pitcher, as if he wasn’t sure how to walk into the room without carrying something. Quill handed the pitcher over, and then I noticed that he had a sowers bag slung over his shoulder, and it was bulging and heavy.

“What do you have?” I asked, eyes wide with curiosity.

Quill grinned. “Come see.”

He led the way to the table, where Ayglos had already set down the bucket, and hoisted his bag onto the table. It thunked heavily. He reached in and fished out a glass jar full of something dark.

“Preserves!” exclaimed Nadine.

“Are they still good?” asked Namal.

“We’ll find out,” replied Quill, unloading the rest of the jars onto the table.

Everyone took turns cleaning up with the pitcher and basin while Quill and Jemin gathered our food supplies and set about opening the jars. Jemin announced his success cheerfully, “Raspberry preserves!” He sniffed the contents and grinned. “Still as wonderful as the day they were jarred.”

Raspberry preserves improve almost everything they touch—even waybread. We crunched on our sweetened fare while the sun set and darkness enfolded the ruin and our hiding place. We swapped stories about the past two weeks and I lent Nadine and Mother Boitumelo’s satchel to treat Father’s injuries. Or try to. Then, finally, we slept. For the first time in two long, harrowing weeks, we were together and safe.

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39-Behind the Hedge

Nadine and I walked together leading the horses, father on Hook and mother on Sinker. Jemin walked next to Hook, unobtrusively ready to catch our father if he fell as we picked our way up and down hills. Our brothers walked ahead with Quill and a few of the men, the rest were behind, or scouting. We’d spent so much time sneaking through the woods in these past days that I wasn’t sure I could be loud if I tried.

Nadine leaned close to me, “Ayglos said that you were able to rescue the girls from the circus who were taken when we were, I am glad.” She kept her voice low enough that I doubted even our parents could hear us.

I nodded. “Jemin and I found them and got them out—I was looking for you, too, but you weren’t there.”

Nadine grimaced. “No, the officer who found us knew father and mother on sight, and guessed about me well enough. He took us straight to the Regent of Gillenwater.”

“Regent?” I asked. “Not the queen?”

“The queen!” scoffed my sister, “Don’t you remember? Queen Glykeria is only twelve, and I got the impression she spends most of her time at Hirhel. Prisoner or protégé, who can tell? We wouldn’t even have learned where she was had father not demanded to see her. No, Gillenwater is ruled by the Regent, a weasel of a man named Fotios.”

I glance at Nadine, her voice carried a bite I wasn’t used to hearing.

She continued, “He immediately packed us into a carriage and set us on the road to Hirhel. I believe he sent ravens ahead of us, so when we do not arrive we will be missed.”

“We figured they would have,” I agreed.

“I have never been more grateful for the steep slopes of the Magron Mountains,” said Nadine, “They prevented us from going straight to Hirhel, but sent us the long way to take the Bandui. We were plagued with wagon trouble, which meant little to us except that the guards were ill tempered and some were rough with us before their commanding officers could intervene. The officers were determined to bring us to the Nether Queen in tact, for her to have the full privilege of taking us apart, I guess.”

“But it made all the difference. We were able to catch up,” I pointed out, looking at my sister and trying to fathom just how close we’d come to missing them. The mercy of Eloi manifest in a few bad wheels.

We walked in silence for a time until Ayglos came back to walk with us. He addressed our father, who was looking pale under his copper tipped beard. “Quill has suggested a hiding spot outside the city walls: This side of the river is lined with villas and summer homes. Some of these have been abandoned since the conquest. They are much closer to us than the city walls, and we could rest there until he can get us a secret audience with the king.” Ayglos eyed the king with concern.  “With your permission, father, he would take us there rather than make you travel further in your condition.”

Zam the Great nodded. “That sounds wise,” he replied, further confirming to his worried offspring that he was in dire condition.

Ayglos bowed slightly, nodded to Nadine and I, and returned to the front of the column to bring word to Quill and Namal. After another hour’s walking, Vaudrin and the few other men at the front came trotting past us and on back down the line. Then, to my surprise, the whole column split off and headed to the left, leaving us with only Quill and Jemin. Ahead of us the forest ended at a low rock wall. Beyond the wall spread a well-groomed lawn and flower gardens.

Quill turned right and led the way alongside the kept estates—keeping well under the cover of the trees. We passed so many hedges, orderly rows of Cypress trees, and walled gardens that I had no idea where one holding ended and another began. Occasionally there was a flock of sheep or goats and once or twice I saw the peak of a house in the distance.

The sun was just starting to sink when we came to some fields where the grass was overgrown and the cypress trees had gotten woolly without a gardener’s love. Here, the rock wall, which had run largely unbroken along the edge of the forest, had been knocked down and scattered. Quill led us over the rubble and through the overgrown meadow. Another overgrown meadow awaited on the other side of the wild cypress, and yet another beyond that. These meadows weren’t just lawns gone wild, but fields left fallow that now grew a varied assortment of grains and weeds. I noticed a lane running along the edge of the meadows to the left, but Quill led us diagonally across the lumpy, overgrown land as if he knew exactly where he was going.

Quill’s shortcut finally led us out onto another lane which in turn came to a tall but crumbling rock wall. The wall was shrouded by gangly climbing roses which were clearly enjoying their freedom. I was admiring their late fall blooms when the wall ended and Quill turned right abruptly.

We followed, and before us, rising out of the weeds and bedecked with ivy like a naiad of song, was all that remained of the villa. What had clearly once been a multi-story structure was now a burned out shell. The limestone facing for the first floor had survived, but was battered beneath nature’s adornment. A few blackened wood beams stuck out against the sky like ribs on a carcass.

Quill was standing in a huge arching doorway—though the door itself was in splinters on the ground nearby. “Please,” he bowed, “come in.”

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38-Reunion

It was past noon when the land dipped down again, the Cymerie flashed into view between the trees on our left. She was wide here, and inviting. Idly, I watched the sun glinting on her waves as we rode. The ridge swept up in front of us and before we could climb it a voice hailed us from the top. “Milady, Captain!”

We looked up and saw the familiar frame of Vaudrin silhouetted against the sky.

“Well met!” cried Quill.

We urged our horses up the steep embankment. Vaudrin was waiting for us at the top with several of Quill’s men.

“We were worried that you hadn’t made it out,” said Vaudrin, “We were setting out to find you.”’

“We ran into some trouble,” replied Quill, dismounting and clasping Vaudrin’s hand in greeting. “Did you get the royal family?”

“Yes,” Vaudrin nodded. “I will take you to them.” Vaudrin turned to me and offered me a hand down. I didn’t exactly need one, but I accepted the gesture and slipped off Hook.

“They’re here?” I asked him, breathless.

Vaudrin nodded again, “Yes, milady, follow me.” Jemin took Hook’s reins and followed behind Quill and I as Vaudrin led the way through the woods. The men fell in behind the horses. Vaudrin was talking, mostly to Quill, “The men are covered in cuts and bruises, but mercifully no broken bones or deep wounds. We’re drying out well enough.” He lowered his voice, “The king may have cracked ribs, though, and appears to have been beaten some before we got to the river.”

I was desperately eager to see my family, and suddenly afraid that they would not be as I remembered them. My heart quickened as we came to more of Quill’s men and then the rest of the camp opened up before us in a small clearing. I found them immediately: Off to the side, my mother and sister were sitting next to a prone figure and my brothers were hovering nearby. I choked and ran forward, leaving Hook’s reins dangling in the breeze.

My mother was on her feet in an instant and caught me in her arms. I felt Nadine put her arms around us also and we blubbered words of greeting, breathing in each other’s scent and holding on. After a few heartbeats my mother held me at arm’s length. “Zare, my darling girl, safe and sound and so beautiful!”

I could say the same about her. Silver twisted through the dark hair that waved about her face, loose and unruly from her troubles, but breathtaking anyway.

“You’re leaner than a whippet, has there been no food?” she asked, some concern edging into her face as she looked me up and down.

“We’ve been running a lot,” I said. Reaching out I clasped Nadine by the hand and returned the inspection. They were both thinner than before, too, it showed especially in their faces. But they were happy. Tears brimmed out of my soul and escaped down my cheeks. “I’m so glad you’re safe.”

“Oh, Zare!” Nadine pulled me out of Mother’s grasp and squeezed me close. “You must tell me everything. Ayglos and Namal have started, but it seems you’ve had the most excitement! I want to hear all!”

I nodded, “But only after you’ve told me what happened to you! And where is Father?”

“I’m here, Little Zare.”

My mother and Nadine stepped aside and I dropped to my knees next to my father. Zam the Great was sitting up, and Namal had just finished positioning a blanket between him and the tree. “Are you alright, father?” I choked.

His beard was longer now, and underneath he was pale, but smiling. “You should see the other,” he lifted his right arm and I ducked under it for a hug. “Remko and I were a bit outnumbered,” he squeezed me close. “I’ll be alright now.”

“These wounds are from two weeks ago?” I sat up. “How badly are you hurt?”

He grimaced. “A few well-placed kicks will do plenty to keep them from healing. The tumble in the carriage didn’t help, either.”

“Those bastards,” I spat.

“Zare!” my mother chided, but it was reflexive. She wasn’t the least bit scandalized—not after a siege and a year of living in the circus.

“How is Remko?” asked Nadine, breaking in.

At her question, my brothers and I looked at one another and wilted. It fell to Namal to explain, “He was alive when we left him with Boitumelo…” his voice trailed off into the silence of vain hope.

Nadine bowed her head and our mother put her arm around her shoulders. I touched the hilt of Shiharr. Shiharr and Azzad, Remko’s spectacular gifts. I was so accustomed to the weight of the daggers now I had almost forgotten about them snugged to the small of my back. I traced the pommel with affection. Even if Remko had not survived his wounds, I had no doubt that he had gone to God.

“Your majesties,” Quill bowed, “I’m sorry to interrupt.”

“Quilleran Rydderick,” said my father.

Quill paled a little. “Your majesty,” he bowed again.

My father regarded him sternly and I shifted back a little. He wasn’t really going to yell at Quill for this whole mess, was he? It wasn’t his fault we’d hidden in a circus that just happened to be at Gillenwater the night they struck.

“According to my sons, we owe our lives to you and your men,” continued my father gravely.

Quill blinked, evidently as unprepared for that statement as I had been. “As I owe my life to your family,” he managed finally. “I would likely have drowned or been captured if your daughter had not intervened, and later prevented me from dying of my wounds.” He gestured to me, and then to Ayglos and Namal.

“Nevertheless, I am eternally grateful,” my father inclined his head. Every inch a king in his rags and scraggy beard. I was proud. “Now, what were you interrupting about?”

Quill swallowed, “Your Highness, we need to keep moving. If possible. There is still the chance that we were pursued from the road. We will have to sneak you into the city—we’d like to do so tonight if possible. My men and I have already been gone too long.”

“How have you explained your absence?” asked the king.

“For most, we were a large hunting party—our three best hunters did indeed stay behind to hunt so we will have something to show on our return. Others were on leave or feigning illness,” explained Quill. “We will slip you into the city tonight if we can, and ourselves make a public return tomorrow with our game.”

My father nodded. “Very well.” He looked up at Ayglos and Namal, “Come, help me up.”

I scooted out of the way as my brothers stepped forward and helped my father get gingerly to his feet. Nadine picked up the blankets and folded them.

“Do you think you can ride?” Ayglos asked.

My father grimaced. “Movement of any sort sounds difficult,” he replied. “But we would certainly move faster if I rode.”

Jemin was already leading Hook forward. The burly man knelt and offered his knee to help the king mount. Hook wasn’t a huge horse, but pain still emanated from my father as he stepped up and pulled himself on board. It was several long moments before he straightened even a little in the saddle. Quill’s men busied themselves getting ready to go, and we royal children tried not to stare with worry at our father.

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37-Ride in the Dark

 

Jemin had done just fine without us. When we found him, he was in the midst of tying the soldiers together. One of the lamps was still lit, sitting on the ground and casting a small pool of golden light. Jemin stopped and drew his sword when he heard the horses, but then relaxed when he saw Quill and me.

“You’re alright,” he said, openly relieved.

I nodded. “Thanks to Quill.”

Jemin sheathed his sword and knelt to finish tying the soldiers. The Nether Queen’s men were both banged up, but neither looked fatally wounded. They watched us sullenly while Jemin worked. One of them sneered, “You’re the rebels from the forges, aren’t you? Same dark armor.”

From behind them, Jemin’s eyes flicked up to Quill’s. What would happen if Dalyn was implicated too soon? I saw Jemin start reaching for his sword again.

“Galhara’s revenge is only beginning,” I addressed the soldiers, my voice low with authority. I sensed Quill’s and Jemin’s eyes on me, but I ignored them and looked down on the bound soldiers. “The Nether Queen will long rue the day she took my city.” I held their gaze coldly, letting them absorb that they were my prisoners now. As fear began to creep into their faces Jemin clubbed them with the pommel of his sword and they both slumped to the ground unconscious.

“We should go,” said Quill.

“Would you have killed them?” I asked, as Jemin mounted Sinker.

Both men looked grim.

“Will your father approve of Galhara’s role as instigator?” asked Quill after a pause.

“You needed one,” I retorted as he turned his mount and led the way into the dark forest.

We moved at a conservative pace, even once we grew accustomed to the dark. Aiming south and east we rejoined the Cymerie far enough downstream from the bridge that we couldn’t see torches or hear voices carried on the river’s roar. We stuck as close to the river as we could, but the banks were steep, and the land was rough. Frequently we had to retreat into the forest to get around steep or rocky hillocks. It was slow going, especially in the dark. Also, the further we traveled, the more I hurt. My face and arms ached worst, and exhaustion began to drag at my consciousness. I struggled to pay attention to the forest, and keep watch for sign of either the carriage or pursuing soldiers. There was, after all, a chance that soldiers from the road had had the presence of mind to chase the carriage from the river bank. But we didn’t know if they had because Quill and Jemin hadn’t stuck around to watch. They had rushed to save me; I could hardly hold that against them.

I didn’t argue when Quill called a halt. He and Jemin dismounted, and started spreading bedrolls by a huge fallen tree. I sat mutely on Hook trying to work up the strength to slide off. Quill came over and offered me a hand down. I took the bedroll he handed me and while he untacked Hook I spread the thick cloth between Quill’s and Jemin’s, the customary place for a noble with bodyguards.  Also, the warmest. Perhaps it was presumptuous, but I was too tired to care. I drifted to sleep almost as soon as I lay down.

When I awoke the forest was gray with dawn. Jemin was already strapping his bedroll to Sinker, and Quill was walking toward me as if to wake me.

He smiled when he saw me moving. “Glad to see you’re awake; we need to go.”

I got up stiffly and rolled up the bedroll. I was cold. Water and a little dried meat saw us on the move again. The sun rose higher turning gray dawn to gold morning. Eventually I started to feel awake and wonder why we hadn’t met the others yet. We had been riding a couple of hours when we came to a flat space on the river shore and saw the large silhouette of an overturned carriage. My heart leapt. I urged Hook into a canter.

“Wait!” Quill called, and I ignored him.

In a few short strides we reached the carriage and circled it. It was roughed up—the wheels smashed off, the axles and shaft were long gone. Gouges stood out pale against the dark sides. It was empty. My heart thundered in my chest. Jumping off Hook I turned to the river, “What have you done with them?” I demanded.

Quill and Jemin cantered up and dismounted. I was vaguely aware of Jemin stooping to inspect the ground while Quill followed me as I headed for the water. I reached the river and waded in just as Quill arrived and grabbed my elbow. “Zare, don’t do anything stupid.”

“Where is my family?” Angrily I spun to face him—uncertain if I was asking him or the Cymerie. The current was strong, and I could feel it tugging at my feet, even though I wasn’t even up to my knees.

Quill didn’t let go, “The carriage is empty but fairly intact, they probably got out here and moved on to a safer place.” His eyes flicked from mine to the water swirling around us. “Do not accuse the river of anything yet.”

At least not while I’m standing in it, is what he didn’t say. Being as it was an ill-tempered river. Reluctantly I yielded to Quill’s tugging and waded back to the shore. The water held onto us, like the river was loath to let us leave. I looked distrustfully at her, but Quill put his arm around my shoulders and steered me back to the carriage.

Jemin stood waiting for us.

“Anything?” asked Quill.

“There are tracks,” Jemin nodded downriver. “Lots of tracks all over this area, but a trail leaves following the river.”

I inspected the carriage again. While the outside was clearly pummeled, Quill was right; the inner body was pretty well preserved. I turned back to Quill and Jemin, “More riding?” I asked.

They nodded.

“Lovely.”

We remounted and Jemin took the lead. We plodded over the rough land while Jemin paused now and then to stare at the ground or bushes. I felt myself swinging between weariness, impatience, and indifference, and endeavored to contain my unruly emotions. We would find my family. Everyone was fine, and they were with Dalyn’s soldiers. We would find them.

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36-Capture

I shouldn’t have been looking over my shoulder; I should have been running. Those two horsemen had overcome our little roadblock faster than they were supposed to. My foot caught on a stone and I stumbled. Thinking a few choice words, I staggered and dove toward the side of the road. I just had to stay out of reach long enough to get to the river. I smashed blindly into the underbrush. The light from the soldiers’ lamps didn’t penetrate far into the woods, but I couldn’t wait for my eyes to adjust. I ran with my arms outstretched, hoping I wouldn’t hit a tree. “Don’t trip, don’t trip,” I panted to myself right before I rammed straight into a bush. I flailed to the side, trying to get around as the horsemen closed in noisily. As I struggled clear I could see more of the forest—but that was because the horsemen behind me carried lanterns. The golden light flashed on the trees and made me think of the long thin teeth of an angler fish closing on its prey.

A heavy weight hit me from behind and I pitched to the ground with a cry. Caught like a little fish. Hands grabbed my arms, pulling them roughly behind me while a knee crushed my torso into the earth. I struggled vainly as the soldier twisted rope around my wrists. I could barely breathe under his weight. Horrible thoughts chased themselves through my head; I thought of the fate of the circus girls, and then of the irony of my capture on a mission to free my family. There was no way they could engineer another rescue before Dalyn. I wondered if I would die, or worse, if I would live in captivity enduring who knows what horrors.

“Do you have her?” The other soldier was mounted still.

“I’ve got her,” grunted my captor as he finished tying. “Get up!” he commanded, lifting his weight off me and picking up the lantern he’d dropped in his efforts.

I pulled my knees up under me and rolled to a sitting position. Spitting dirt out of my mouth, I tossed my head and looked up at them defiantly.

Both soldiers stopped in surprise and stared at me for a moment. Then the mounted soldier said, “She must be related.”

My captor sent him a quick look then turned back to me and growled, “All the way up.”

Related? I stood, shaking the leaves and dirt off as I did. Had they spent a great deal of time looking at my sister, then? Anger stirred in me and quickly overwhelmed my fear. I flinched for my daggers, but they were out of reach.

“Who are you?” demanded my captor.

“I am Zare Caspian of Galhara, your last prisoner,” I snapped.

The mounted soldier whistled. “How many more of them are there?”

“It doesn’t matter,” I replied, “We are ghosts who walk the night carrying retribution for our city and doom for the Nether Queen. You cannot contain the Galhari. You cannot stop us.” What was I saying? Another time, I would have been frightened by the fire inside me, by the violence radiating from my soul. But I didn’t have time for that. It was all I could do to keep from flinging myself at the soldiers in some ill-conceived and useless manner.

My captor snorted and jerked me close. He pushed his face close to mine. I lifted my chin and met his gaze.

“You are a just a girl without land or title. Very much flesh and blood,” he whispered the last words with a leer and then pushed me away, turning to mount his horse.

Seething, and impotent, I watched the soldier tie my rope to his saddle. I must not remain their prisoner.

The soldier remounted and turned his horse back toward the road. “Now, walk,” he ordered.

Both soldiers nudged their horses forward and I walked as ordered. No point in getting dragged or trampled. I wished fervently that I had knives hidden in other places—a wrist sheath perhaps—so I would have had options. The soldier yanked on the rope and I stumbled, nearly falling into a bush. I shot a glare over my shoulder at him. He smiled wickedly.

There was crackling in the underbrush like a couple more horsemen were coming our way. Probably sent to aid their comrades. Not that they needed it. I snarled inwardly and tried to think of something, anything, I could do to get out of this mess.

Just then a draft horse burst into the circle of lamplight and slammed straight into the soldiers’ mounts. I gasped as I recognized Sinker, with Jemin on his back, sword in hand.

I was yanked forward as the horses churned—but not before I caught a glimpse of Hook and Quill barreling in. Swords flashed as Quill and Jemin engaged the soldiers. The horses pranced and turned while I ran and dodged to keep up. If the soldier’s horse bolted I was going to die gruesomely at the base of a tree. The thought moved me to action. I flopped on my rear and tucked my hands under my legs to move my bound hands in front; then I jumped sloppily to my feet. Darting between horses and blows I reached the side of the soldier who had the other end of my rope. He saw me a moment too late. I caught his elbow and pulled savagely, throwing my body weight to the ground. He twisted out of the saddle with a yelp of pain. His horse shied as he fell and then it bolted forward. I had no chance to react as the horse hit the end of the rope and kept running, wrenching me off the soldier and dragging me after it. I tumbled on the end of the rope like a fishing lure in the wind. I was vaguely aware of Quill shouting after me as bracken flew in my face and I bumped along pondering the irony of the situation. I supposed dying from the very bolt I was trying to avoid was a little better than dying in the prison I’d rescued my family from.

Then I slid to a stop and was lying face first on the dark forest floor. This was it, then. I hadn’t noticed hitting a tree so it must’ve been quite a thorough bashing. So far death wasn’t too bad. I wondered if the stories were true about a tunnel with the light of Eloi at the end.

“Zare!” Quill’s voice was right above me, and a second later I felt his hands on my shoulders and back. “Zare, are you alright?” his voice was thick with concern.

At his touch, I startled and opened my eyes. I could see the faint outlines of vegetation in the darkness. I realized my hands were stretched out before me, still, and there was no tree. I wasn’t dead. I pulled my arms in carefully, they ached but weren’t broken.

“Are you alright?” asked Quill again, gently supporting my shoulders as I pushed myself up and turned slowly to a sitting position.

“I think so,” I said. The shakiness of my voice surprised me.

He whipped out a small knife and started cutting the rope off my wrists. “Is anything broken? Can you stand up?”

I took inventory while he worked. Fingers and toes responded on command, I didn’t appear to have any gaping holes anywhere. As soon my wrists were free I touched them and winced. Rope burn. “I’m ok. I think I can stand,” I said.

In the dark, I couldn’t see his face, but I sensed the relief flow out of him and for some reason I wanted to cry because of it.  “Come on, we need to keep moving.” Quill stood and reached down to help me to my feet.

The world spun as I rose and I leaned heavily into him. Quill hooked one arm around my waist and I dropped my head on his shoulder, struggling to regain control while he fussed with the horses. Horses. I picked up my head. I could make out the soldier’s mount standing docilely next to Hook.

“You stopped the horse,” I said stupidly.

“It was absconding with my princess,” replied Quill. “I couldn’t allow that.”

He’d saved my life. I was seized with a wild desire to kiss him. But I didn’t. He shifted me around to Hook’s side and boosted me into the saddle with such care I could been snuggling into bed.

“Now we go help Jemin,” he said, mounting the other horse and turning back the way we’d come.

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35-At the Cymerie

As the sun drew closer to the horizon we saddled Hook and Sinker with old tack from Ironsides’ storage shed then, Namal and Ayglos mounted and set out at a swift pace. I traveled behind, on foot with Quill and his men, cutting through the orchards at a quick jog. I was pleased that all the foot travel over the past week had made this pace quite reasonable. Our packs were freshly loaded with food but I had traded Quill the heavy crossbow from Gillenwater for his bow, and we were both happier for it. We were heading cross country to hit the main road where it crossed the Cymerie, an angry little tributary of the Bandui River. Quill had sent two men to track the progress of the prisoner transport and to slow them down if necessary so we could reach the Cymerie and prepare for them. I had never met the Cymerie, but knew it was smaller river, swift and scored with rapids and gorges. The Cymerie wasn’t the wide and deep trade conduit that the Bandui River was. In fact, it was mostly in the way. Which was perfect for us. Ayglos and Namal would reach her before we did, and were tasked with securing the river’s help.

As we jogged, my mind turned back to the morning’s counsels. There were thirty men escorting the barred carriage, which made any attempt at open battle on the road foolish. Neither could we wait for help inside Dalyn.

“The city is not ours yet,” Quill had explained, “The Nether Queen has many agents in the king’s court, and her ambassador is formidable. I cannot speak for my King to promise you a rescue within its walls. Such an event might destroy the rebellion before it has really commenced.”

So we had to be clever.

I grimaced and focused on keeping my footing in the less cultivated terrain. I hoped we were clever enough. Those of us on foot made good time cutting over the gentle land and I caught scent of the turbulent Cymerie long before we heard its roar. It was dark when the trees stopped and the silhouette of an arching stone bridge stood against the sky. Quill’s men scouted the area quickly and returned with Ayglos and Namal to announce that the road was clear in both directions and the Cymerie was, if not delighted to help, willing enough.  We set to work with the yards and yards of thin cloth. At every moment I expected to hear the prisoner caravan on the road, but we finished our preparations without so much as a bat swooping overhead.

I took my place in the center of the road on Dalyn’s side, just far enough that you had to be quite across the bridge before your lantern would show my presence. Wide strips of the thin white cloth crisscrossed the road like the masterpiece of an ambitious spider. Perhaps several ambitious spiders. I stood in the midst of the cloth web, a swath wrapped around my shoulders and head like a hooded cape. My mind was oddly quiet as I waited, listening to the river and the sounds of the night.

I could not be sure how long it was before I heard horses and the jangling of harnesses. Then the lanterns carried by the caravan swung into view, moving at a good pace. As reported, there were mounted men riding ahead, and behind the barred carriage. The first of the horsemen reached the bridge and the clatter of hooves on stone sounded deafening to me after the stillness of waiting. The din only got louder as the carriage hit the rocks. The lead horsemen reached my side of the bridge and pulled up sharply when the light of their lanterns glanced off the gauzy web across the road. Their cries of “Halt!” traveled back over the vanguard and the whole company came to an abrupt stop.

The horses skittered about unhappily as the leaders dismounted and approached the web with their swords drawn and their lanterns held aloft. Before they got too close, I took a step. They startled, seeing me for the first time, “Who goes there?” they demanded.

I took another drifting step, “Have you seen him?” I asked mournfully.

“What?” asked the man on the right.

“Have you seen him?” I asked again, “He rode to the underworld, and I seek him.”

I felt the shudder of uncertainty rush through them, and then be replaced by impatient anger. “What are you talking about, woman? Clear the road, we are on the Queen’s business.”

I turned to face them and raise my arms. “The Queen of the Underworld?” I demand. “You took him! You slaves of darkness!” On cue, two crossbow quarrels flew through the air and the men dropped to the ground, their lanterns spun to the ground, casting bizarre shadows as they went. The other men in the column had been watching and they cried out, spurring their horses forward. I dashed forward for the lanterns. They were the same orbs dangling from polls that the patrols in Gillenwater used. I leapt back into the web as the first line of horsemen bore down. I needed to lure more away from the carriage.

“Can you tell me where to find Maten?” I bark at the soldiers, hoping they knew their legends like Quill did. “Speak now and I may spare your lives!”

They couldn’t reach me in the web, not mounted. Swords drawn, three men jumped down as others rode up. I raised the lanterns, illuminating our little circle of road for my bowmen. “I gave you a chance.”

The quarrels flew, but the third man ducked into the web and charged at me. I swung the lanterns, deflecting his sword. He came again and I dodged backwards, bouncing off a swath of cloth right before he sliced through it. How long did it take to reload a crossbow? “Know the wrath of Nelia!” I cried and he dropped to the ground with a gasp of surprise. Not long.

More horsemen were gathering and dismounting. I couldn’t stay here. Even if I could dodge them, sooner or later one of them would produce a crossbow of his own. I lifted the lanterns again, they were sputtering now after being swung about—I guessed there were eight men coming for me, with five down, that meant only a little over half still close to the carriage. Those were better odds than we started with. Dropping the lanterns, I tossed aside my white trappings and ran.

Risking a glance over my shoulder, I saw chaos on the road. A couple of the soldiers had stopped to see to their comrades, and others were hacking madly at the cloth to clear the way for the carriage. Two of them jumped their horses over the tumbling web and thundered after me.  Behind that, on the bridge, men were climbing over the sides of the bridge from where they’d hidden—dangling off the side like fish at a fish market.  The bulk of Quill’s men, and my brothers, gathered at the carriage. They cut the horses free and while some held back the rearguard—taking advantage of the very narrow space—the rest heaved the carriage over the side of the bridge and into the turbulent Cymerie.

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33-Balleck

 

For the rest of the morning no one entered or left the great hall at Ironsides’ manor. It wasn’t until well after lunchtime, when we had finished our plotting and Vaudrin went to check the kitchen that even servants entered the room. They came in with Vaudrin, carrying trays of food for lunch. After serving they quickly bustled away—even though by that point we were quite done talking and more interested in eating.

After our late lunch, I went in search of Balleck and Olena.

I found Balleck in one of the barns, hanging by his legs from a stall wall and doing sit ups. Even the dim light of the barn caught the red in his blond hair and skimmed his muscles with an artist’s grace. I approached quietly and had to clear my throat he was so engrossed in his work. Balleck startled, then flipped himself to the ground. “My lady,” he said, dusting himself off.

I hopped up on a couple bales of straw. He came and leaned next to me, waiting for me to say something. “It’s been a wild two weeks,” I offered.

Balleck grimaced. “I’d say so. Zare,” he began, then hesitated. “Lady Zare.”

I grimaced.

He began again, “Our part in this fight is over—such as it was. Gabe and I need to help the girls get back to the circus. We’ve discussed it with Ironsides and our plan is to rest here for a week and then take the southern road to Magadar.”

I drew a deep breath and let it out; what had I expected him to say? “That is sensible.”

He looked at me, “You could come with us. Your brothers and the soldiers can handle things here.”

I had definitely not expected that. I turned to him in surprise, “What do you mean?”

“You’re hunted in this land, come with us to a place we’re regular folk again,” said Balleck earnestly, “It’s dangerous here, Zare.”

“I’m dangerous,” I retorted.

“I know—I’ve heard the girls talk about what you did to save them. But you shouldn’t have had to—we were all close by waiting to go in and rescue them. You didn’t need to take that kind of risk where we couldn’t protect you.” Balleck leaned closer, “It turned out alright—everyone is safe now. But it might not have—we might easily have lost you—I could have lost you.” He picked up my hand and sought my eyes pleadingly, “You should come with me to Magadar, your family will follow.”

I stared at him. His blue eyes were pale with pain and I was too stunned to know what to say. I was suddenly aware that the danger which permeated my life was as familiar to me as the morning dew…and that the circus was already part of my past. I squeezed Balleck’s hand and said gently, “I have to stay.”

Balleck nodded, his face resigned. “I thought you would say that.”

“Do you understand why?” I asked, desperately wishing he did.

“Maybe.” A sad smile spread tipped his mouth and he lifted his free hand to my face, tracing my cheek with his fingers. “I lost you the day everyone was kidnapped.”

At his touch every single fire spinning memory sprang to mind and exploded with fireworks of desire and regret. In another life, I could have been a fire spinner: I could have traveled all over the world performing riding stunts with the circus. Married Balleck and had little wild haired children running around with flaming batons and impeccably trained dancing ponies.

But that was before I fished a mysterious wounded archer out of the Tryber River. Before I found out about a rebellion and found hope to defeat the sorceress.  Before my family was stolen. I dropped my eyes because I couldn’t gaze into Balleck’s soul any longer. He traced my face a moment longer and then let his hand fall, too.

We were quiet, listening to the sound of what wouldn’t be, then Balleck broke the spell, “I had a lovely time dancing with you at the harvest festival. Before…you know…everything fell apart forever.”

I choked out a laugh, “Yes…I enjoyed dancing with you, too. It was a lovely night up until the soldiers came. And even after that it wasn’t so bad since we got out alright.”

Balleck grunted, “It was the beginning of our troubles. Back when I thought you were a former duchess or something.”

“Well,” I scooted off the bale of straw, still holding his hand. “We have a little bit of time before,” I hesitated, “I have to be going again.”

He straightened to follow me, “I won’t ask,” he assured a little tiredly.

“Would you be willing to give one last lesson in fire spinning?” I bit my lip as I looked back at him.

“Of course, my lady,” Balleck bowed, the filtered light catching his smile and pressing it into my memory like a signet ring in wax.

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