Two weeks ago.

I gritted my teeth. If I knew one thing tonight, and one thing only – I didn't want to be here. I slowly drew in a breath, trying to ignore the reek of this place. Unwashed men who had not visited a bath since for at least a moon or two – or more surrounded me. I wasn’t sure how long it took to smell like that. Imagine men like that, surrounding you in the smallest tavern a village could muster together. Groups of unwashed men, young and old overcrowded this place – spilling their ale down themselves, the floor or each other. I wanted to clamp my hands over my ears. They had started to ring from the clanking of their tankards, their cheers and constant, drunk, laughter. I pushed strand of blonde hair behind my ear and tapped my fingers on the table to keep them busy. The sooner I could get out of here, the better.

“Three cheers for the coming prosperity!” A thickly set man raised his tankard, his grin flashing his worn and darkened teeth. I couldn't stand to look at him any longer and looked away, I hadn't touched a

mouthful of my own ale. One of the men had bought it for me to “loosen me up”, as far as I planned, that wasn't going to happen. Other men followed suit, raising their ale to cheer for some reason or another. I frowned as they yelled out, and blew my breath out. I did a quick scan of the men, I was one of the youngest here and certainly the only woman. I leaned back, trying to remind myself why on Casteri I thought I’d agree to come here tonight.

 

I felt Jaser plant a warm hand on my shoulder, leaning down to place a soft cheek on the top of my head. I smiled up at him. I had cut his hair that morning, but it still looked messy, a dark brown mop of thick hair on his head. He looked back at me with a lofty grin, then deftly picked up the tankard in front of me like it was his own. With a wink he went back to his conversation with one of the other men.  I watched him for a moment, all broad shoulders and define muscle from hours with a sword. I took a deep breath in – he was the reason I stayed. Mind you – he had been drinking double, mine and his. After the amount he had drunk, I could probably slip away without causing a scene. I glanced outside – it was almost dark, the stars would be coming out soon.

 

“Excuse me, my fellow noblemen and warriors!” An older man stepped up onto a chair. His teeth were crooked and blackened. Several of which were missing. A dirty shirt and ripped pants were held together with a leather belt. His boots were the only thing that appeared respectable.

“It has come to my attention we have failed to notice one very important figure within this delightful village. We have celebrated the men and warriors, yet someone slipped through our eyes. We must apologise, as she is the first woman warrior to grace this village, appointed and sanctioned by our great goddess Shalenti! Lady Cadence, please stand. Hear our apologies for missing you out from our tales and excitement.”

I flinched. I am neither a lady, sanctioned by the gods nor have I ever been named Cadence. That put a hitch in my plan of escape. I stood, slowly.

“Here she is, my fellow Crusaders, Cadence, goddess appointed woman warrior of Varshore. She too, has been trained by the legendary Master Kemp. Let us welcome our new friend. If you choose to join us, Cadence, you will be known as the strongest and most respected woman in history!”

 

The room cheered again, raising their tankards in cheers. I forced a quick smile, nodding my head. The leader of the Crusade sat back down, satisfied now all the men had now turned to me. I felt Jaser’s hand touch mine, giving it a tight squeeze and leant against our table.

 
“I told you they would accept you. It’s not every day you meet a woman who fights.” He smiled, playing with a ring on my finger.

“I would have assumed they would expect me to be like other woman. To serve their husbands dutifully and loyally. Attending church. Doing motherly duties and birthing children.” I murmured, keeping my voice low. Jaser laughed, cocking an eyebrow at me.

“So you’ll never treat me with respect and loyalty?” He asked. A lopsided grin crossed his face. “All this time…here I was, hoping you’d change your neglectful ways.”

 

“I never said that. I’m sure that’s what they think, however. They wouldn’t want to offend you. They want your assistance and blessing. I’m only welcome because it would please you.” I sighed, ignoring the creases in his forehead. His lips pursed together, in thought.  I tried my best to drive my point home, although I was pretty certain by this point, he’d struggle to remember it in the morning, and we would have the conversation again. “I can guarantee you, if I left with the crusaders I’d fall in position nicely – as a poor and destitute wench.”

“Lady Cadence!” Another loud voice boomed across the inn, crashing against the rest of the laughter. He strode towards us, eventually sitting down close enough I could smell his breath.

 

“You have not heard our story out yet, have you not?”

“I think I have an idea…” I started. I had heard the story. From Jaser’s father, Kemp. From other crusaders. Since they marched in, the story came up at least daily.

“I am Suvar, our historian! You have not heard a story until you have heard it from me!” His loud voice caught the attention of the other men, who quietly sat down in a sign of respect, those without a seat sat promptly on the dirty wet floor. I looked around at the men, quietly sitting at their places. I bit her lip, trying not to hide my disappointment or building frustration. I couldn’t leave now.

 

“The world as we know it was not always poor and desperate for one more bite to eat, one more moment of rest. We did not always have limits on the number of children a mother may bear. We lived happy, full, long lives. Babies born dead and starving children were unheard of.”  His thinning hair was patchy at best. I tried not to wrinkle my nose in disgust as the smell of decay blew towards my nose with every statement he made.

 

“Varshore in particular, was a thriving fishing community. However, we neglected our duties to our high goddess, Shalenti. Her beautiful and fair ways were taken for granted. She turned her attention elsewhere, to the faithful city of Shonsta, to the west. The gods themselves were facing a revolution – men and woman who no longer bow to them. No longer do they make sacrifice. Now, we must be pious and earn their protection once more!

He paused, sucking in breath. Then he expelled it in large barks, a hacking, gut wrenching, stomach curdling heave. I felt my stomach churn. For what it was worth – their crusade was not bringing them good health. His large belly shook with the force. I leaned further back, horrified as he spat a large globule of dark phlegm onto the table. Without any further comment, he continued. The phlegm sat there, dark and horrifying.

“Aemiel, the devil as we know her, lurks in the shadows. Without her, there is no death. Without her, there is no pain. Shalenti has left us here, and in her absence, Aemiel rules. We must earn the respect of Shalenti once more, so she balances the effect of Aemiel, protecting us. We must strengthen Shalenti to defeat Aemiel in battle! We must show her, by uniting Casteri against our biggest threat. The Rebels, in Drougal, pray to Aemiel. They sacrifice woman to her, they fall to their deaths, begging for her mercy. We must destroy them, unite Casteri, and earn our right to protection! If we do not, the Rebels will reach over the entire of Casteri, spreading their unholy reach. Otherwise, Lady Cadence, it will be your children who will be sacrificed to the Aemiel.”

 

The men surrounding them cheered, raising their tankards once more. I gave a quick smile. Jaser tightened his grip on my hand.  The dark hunk of phlegm still sat there in front of me. I had to go, and I had to go now. I swallowed. Jaser wasn’t going to be happy with me. My mouth opened, and then all hell broke loose.

 

“What makes you so sure that the gods have left this decision to you? How do you know this….army of Aemiel is really coming for you? How do you know they aren’t just a group who are looking for new territory to claim as their own?” I pressed. Suvar looked stunned for a moment, like his small mind hadn’t ever had time to consider this.

“That is what the gods have told us directly, what is written down in history!” He stated. His brow ruffled in confusion, much like a slow child first introduced to his mathematical sums.

“But how do you know the Holy Book is correct?” I asked. “I understand what you are telling me, but I don’t see how it could be the only reason for the troubles of our time…”

I glanced to Jaser. His face was set in stone, his grin long since vanished. Crinkles were forming around his eyes. He was shaking his head, warning me. I was worrying him, again. I had messed this up, once again. I have to leave. He will be horrified if I continue.

 
“Truth or not, Suvar, I must depart. Thank you for passing on your knowledge. I look forward to seeing you in the village in the daylight.” I gave another quick smile, making a direct path to the door. The innkeeper chuckled to himself, while the crusade watched my every move like I was the serpent in the room, clearing space for me to leave.

 

As the tavern doors swung shut behind me, I felt the fresh air hit me. It was fresh, sweet, cold, air. I took a deep breath in, enjoying the freedom and space from the tavern. The stars were beginning to come out. I hauled myself up into a nearby tree, waiting for him. I’ll speak to him when he returns, however drunk. Leaning against the cold bark I closed my eyes, listening to the sounds of the inn. The laughter and cheering slowly recovered, the sounds growing louder with each passing moment.

 

***

Some months ago...

“Hey Cade, do you believe in the gods?” Jaser asked, stealing some of my food. I wasn’t sure where the question came from.  I pulled a face at him.

 
“No. I do not.” Continuing to eat, I tried to look as disinterested as I could so he wouldn’t ask me any more questions.

“Why is that? Any reason?” Jaser pressed, his dark eyes brimming with curiosity. I simply shrugged and sighed.

“Too contradictory, Aemiel isn’t supposed to take the souls of the innocent, I understood they are free to roam Casteri as spirits until they believe it’s time to go to the next realm. Yet if that was true...” Faking a cough, I turned away, trying not to let him see my face. He waited patiently, knowing me well. When I turned back to my food, he pushed on.

“If that was true, you’d see an army of undead running around to yell at you when you break ancient tradition?” Jaser joked, oblivious of my hurting.

 

I didn’t meet his gaze, though I could feel his eyes on me. All I could think about was my mother. If she was a spirit now, why did she not try to make contact? Why didn’t she answer my questions? I had heard of it being done many times before… I turned back to Jaser, slowly, trying to hide emotion on my face.

 

“Sure.”  I tried to give him a soft smile.  “Then you’d be able to find peace and quiet when you ate your meals” I laughed at the face he made and took another bite.

“Yeah, and you wouldn’t be able to do this!” He reached over, shoved my food aside and out of my reach, leaving me clutching my spoon. Jaser leant over the crude wooden table, his lips meeting mine for a quick kiss. I couldn’t help it, I laughed, running my free hand into his hair.

 
“I don’t know what I’d do without you.” I whispered quietly to him. He smiled back at me, still a mere breath away from my face

“You did mention it once.” He murmured into my hair. “Wasn’t it being able to eat in peace and quiet?” he pulled back to grin at me once more.

 

***

 

The inn door swung open, Jaser emerging. He waved goodbye to the men, letting it slam behind him as he walked – a little uneven. He whistled a familiar tune, a chant from the Crusaders. Thankfully, his good nature hadn’t left him brooding over my disrespect. He walked oblivious past the tree, only turning to see me after I laughed at him.

“Where do you think you are going?” I asked, grinning at him. I swung out of the low branch, my boots making a satisfying click on the cobbled path as I landed.

 

“Stalking, are we now?” He shook his head as she straightened up.

 

“Why on Casteri did you want me to join you in there?” I asked, one eyebrow raised. “You know how I feel about gods telling us mortals to run around doing their work…I didn’t want to embarrass you, Jaser.”

 

He sighed, but pulled his arm around my shoulder. “It’s what Casteri is built from, Cadeyn. It is our history. They aren’t fables…”

 

“You do realise, this was probably concocted by some want-to-be king who wants more land. He’ll kill off everyone eventually, but end up with a large settlement to call his own. It’s very unlikely to really be about religion. You know, those travellers probably get paid large sums of gold to recruit people. How else could they afford all that ale?”

 

 “Why are you so cynical, Cade? Do you not believe the gods have left us to make the decisions for mankind?” Jaser asked after a seconds thought. His clarity in words let me believe he wasn’t as drunk as he had let on.

 

“I think if there was a thing as a god or goddess, they wouldn’t have forsaken us in the first place. They wouldn’t turn their back just like that. Not on the innocent, the sick, the young.”

 

Jaser turned to the skies, staring at the stars that shone down on them. He pulled me tight, turning me to face him.

“I just want to do what’s right for the people of this village…and yet, this is what they believe.” He sighed, burying his head into my hair. “I know you’ve been burnt, Cade. But I have to make this decision for everyone, not just you and I.”

I took a moment, wrapping my arms around him. He had been chosen just last summer, according to scripture and the villager’s vote of loyalty, to lead them in battle and matters of importance to the village. His father once had the same job, until old age was now taking its toll on his stamina and health. Jaser’s father, abdicated and put forth his only child as his successor – and out of respect for Kemp, they had agreed.

 

“Don’t lead the villagers into this, Jaser. This will not lead them to riches; it will lead them to their death. The Crusaders will soon leave, and the villagers will promptly forget about them. Life will go on without them.”

 

“I wish it was only that simple.” He sighed. We held onto each other for a while. We both knew we would never see eye-to-eye on this.

2: Nuwa

On the bad days – the cliffs have always been where I go. There is something about sitting high up on a mountain – maybe it would be more apt to call it a hill, looking down at all your problems to make them seem so small and insignificant. I plaited my hair while I stared down the at the village, the strands that escaped blew in my face. Eventually, I gave up, tucking my hair behind my ears and closed my eyes. It was quieter than normal. Something grazed past my cheek. A leaf flew past me, skimming down the hill. It was the beginning of autumn. The leaves from the hillside had been blowing down into Varshore, to the disdain of those who tried to keep their rotting hole of a home looking tidy. The leaves covered the cobbled paths, sticking into all the badly worn cracks and craters that put Varshore to shame. The paths today were deserted. Everyone was inside, saying goodbye to their loved ones. Today, Varshore was like a deserted village.

The only building that was seeing some traffic was the huge ornate church, which now looked out of place. As far as I remember, Varshore had always been like that. Small village, rotting houses – out of place, ornate church, covered in hideous gargoyle like creatures and statuettes.  It was like a big city shipped the rejected church over to the village and left it with us.

 

I was wearing my mother’s ring around my neck. The wind was cold and I had chosen to wear gloves. My mother clearly had smaller fingers than I did – it neither fit over a glove, nor did my gloves fit over the ring. I rubbed it, trying to use one of her last possessions I owned to cheer me up. Jaser was leaving soon. He has chosen a group of men to leave Varshore to travel with the crusaders to bring peace to our troubled realm.

 

Slowly, I rose to my feet. Looking down the part I drew in a deep breath to calm me down and headed down in a jog. My breath was coming out in white puffs. Summer had ended too quickly. The smell of wood smoke was coming up the hill now, still leaving a haze above the village. Through the burning pine and oak, eventually the smell of cooking over the hearth reached my nose. My stomach grumbled, reminding me I was late to join Kemp to eat once again. The closer I jogged down the village, the more the sounds of the birds were replaced by laughter and squeals from the younger children. The tavern was as loud as ever, a loud reminder that some men preferred the company of the crusaders than spending it with their wives and children. Instead, they’d likely come home late into the night, staggering home to pass out drunk at their doorsteps.

 

I slid down the last of the hill. The path came down behind the church, winding through the graveyard. I jogged past the tombstones and jumped over the small stone wall. I was about to turn and head the rest of the way home when something white caught my eye. Spinning around, a young woman dressed in white was hanging over my mother’s grave. I paused for a moment. She was completely unfamiliar. Who could she be? The moment I had thought to turn and run back home, she dropped a handful of tied flowers down, turned and faced me. She had golden blonde hair falling in waves around her face. Her eyes were piercing – almost one shade of green, her lips small and pink, held in a delicate smile. My stomach started to sink as I took steps backwards. The moment the woman turned away, looking up at the temple, I ran. They tell stories about the Nymph’s who look to beautiful to be human. She was one of them. There was something about her that gave me the immediate impression that I needed to get out of there, and now. I had only ran for about five seconds, when I turned a corner, and there she was again, clutching the same bunch of flowers she dropped on mother’s grave.

 

“You have no reason to be afraid, child of Varshore.”

 

I tried to avoid her, fixing my eyes towards the market place as I walked around her. You didn’t find water nymph’s this far from the ocean – she was either a wood nymph from the forest, or worse. I just wasn’t too sure what worse could be. For the most part, they were usually gentle and harmless spirits, occasionally taking the form of a human. However, it was the few exceptions that tarnished their reputation. They could be notorious tricksters, full of deceit – or summoned to do bidding for their masters.

The woman pouted as she walked past, her big green eyes wide.

“Please do not ignore me. I have come only to help you, Lady Cadence.”

 

I froze for a moment, digging my nails into my fist. If the spirit knew my name…she probably was sent for a reason, and not going to leave me alone any time soon. Not that I had experience with them.

“What do you want” I hissed out impatiently. The young woman smiled sweetly as I turned around to look her in the eye.

“I come to prepare you. You are to prepare for your journey.” Her voice flowed like silk, unusually fluid. I shuddered. Whatever this voice was – it wasn’t human.

“I need not prepare for anything, spirit. I refuse to leave with the crusade. Be gone.”

The woman chose to ignore me, her long fingers reaching out to touch my shift. I froze, trying not to back away from her. Her smile broadened.

“Oh you will see. I know what you do not. You may call me Nuwa.” Her glossy locks fell across her shoulders. “At the least, let me help you with your attire. A lady surely should not be dressed like oneself. Men’s clothes indeed!”

 

“Your help is unwanted, spirit.” I spat. “There is nothing wrong with what I wear. It is practical for my work. I do not need any lace or frills, because my job is not one of a woman.” The spirit laughed for a moment, as if I had just told her the funniest joke in the village.

“Oh dear, riding boots, pants and men’s shirts are surely not practical to a lady?” I frowned, her eyebrows creasing together. Discussing my choice of clothing isn’t what I expected to be talking about with a spirit.

 

“I am no lady. I am a warrior here – I intend to train as a guard to move over to Rauos. Leave me be spirit. I do not have time to play games.”

 

“If that’s what you wish, my lady…” a graceful smile appeared across Nuwa’s face. She turned and ran, barefoot, towards the tombs. Her white dress floated gracefully in the breeze as she turned behind the Shrines. I turned on my heel and resumed walking. I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself before I returned home.

 

Home, is a small cottage. Weeds are sprawled across the section, suffocating the grass. Lavender and ivy have been growing woody and wild for years now, the ivy covering most of the front walls of the home. The brown wooden door is fragile and I’m surprised it’s still standing, with a hint of rot developing around the handle. I can’t turn the handle – it had stopped working long ago. Instead, she pushed the door open. There is a small main room where we in the winter evenings we gather around the fire. Today, the fire is dying out. In the kitchen, there was two bowls of a stew, of some description, laid out on the table. Master Kemp, by the looks of it, has already eaten. I glanced towards the lone empty bowl, feeling a stab of guilt hit her. Kemp had prepared dinner and eaten alone for yet another night.

 

“Cadeyn, are you home?” A frail voiced called from down the hallway. Master Kemp, or really, just Kemp. He was becoming more unwell lately. Just last year he was still fighting and travelling over to Hemlin to trade. Since last winter, though, he was looking older with every passing season.

 

“Yes, I am home. I'm sorry for being so late.” I followed the sound down the hallway, avoiding a floorboard that had almost completely rotten. Kemp chuckled to himself when I arrived at the doorway of his bedroom. He sat upon his favorite rocking chair, turning to look at me. He had been watching out the window towards the market. The market seemed cold and barren, very few people to barter left.

“You have no need to apologise.”  He spoke softly, smiling at me. His face held the evidence of a long and hard life, his skin creased. A mop of snow white hair sat upon his head, contrasting with his still youthful dark brown eyes. He smiled softly. I imagined Jaser looking like him one day, but I couldn’t quite imagine the time shift.

“I was supposed to help you with dinner, I should at least apologise for that. I was, held up…” I trailed off for a moment. It was not the reason she was late, but it was not a complete lie. “A spirit has made its residence outside of the tombs.”

“What sort of spirit? Have you talked to the priest? You should know better than to talk to spirits….” He frowned.

“Yes, by the name of Nuwa. I tried to avoid her, though she knew my name.” I frowned. “She was insistent of calling me lady, and to warn me I must prepare for my journey. I am not considering leaving with the Crusade, so I am not aware what she was intending me to do.” She shook her head.

I felt Kemps thoughtful gaze rest on me for a moment, his fingers drummed along the armrests of his chair. I shifted uncomfortably in the silence. Eventually, he spoke.

 

“I do not know details, Cadeyn, or I would have shared this with you long ago. Your grandmother, or possibly her mother was often referred to as the ‘White Lady of Shalenti’ She was involved in the last Crusade. Perhaps if you travel you will find her final resting place, one day, you can learn more about your family. I believe she was buried in Shonsta.” He remained thoughtful. “Perhaps she has you confused with your ancestors, Cadeyn.”

Shaking my head, I continued to frown at Kemp.

.

“Perhaps” he paused for a moment, following Cadeyn’s glance towards the market stall. “It is possible she is confused, still living in the past. She may have been human once herself, living at a time with your grandmother. However, on the rare occasion they have been known to act as messengers, if the sacrifice is great enough. I wouldn’t put it past the Crusade to try to lure you into joining their cause.”  I felt a growl catch in my throat before I could stop myself.

“I will not follow those scoundrels! I do not believe this world is in dire need of saving from the wrath of the gods!”  I tightened my fists, nails digging further into my palm. Kemp shook his head.

“Calm yourself. Anger will not help you.” He smiled for a moment. “You are a skilled warrior, yet you fall the moment someone makes you angry. You make mistakes and fail to think your actions through.” He smiled as I frowned once more.

 

“By someone, are you referring to him?” I spat.

 

”By him, do you mean Jaser? If that is the case, yes, I do.” His smile fell as my gauged her reaction. A morsel of guilt nagged at the back of my mind.

 

“He’s a traitor….the village needs him now more than at any time! Yet he’s leaving with them to follow such a selfish cause! They chose him to lead Varshore. Not run away from it with a group of men!” I felt my fists start to shake with anger and slowly released them. Taking a deep breath, I did the best to calm myself. Best not act like my father.

 

“He genuinely believes that the crusade will bring the village a better life. Cadeyn, you must look past the –“

“Look past what? The fact he comes home so drunk he cannot stay on his feet? That he would leave here with or without me? To leave you and I here, when you are…” I stopped abruptly, my mouth speaking before realizing what I was about to voice. Kemp kept his eyes on me, however, unaffected.

“Yes Cadeyn, I do not have long to live. Do not be ashamed of what you were saying, because it came from your heart. I may be old Cadeyn, but I am no reason why he should stay behind. He is doing what he thinks is right for the village on a whole. Perhaps he is jumping overboard trying to….fit in with the other men, but he is aware he can’t sit by and put his feelings ahead of wellbeing of the village.” He did not meet my gaze, staring at his wrinkled hands. I dropped my eyes, guilt washing over me fully now.

 

“I am sorry, Kemp. I just do not believe this crusade will help matters. They are traveling to Shonsta to battle with some…some…’Dark Army’.  They think they are going to win this battle, which will solve an argument belonging to the gods. Then the gods will stop neglecting the fields, that they can harvest wheat and corn year round, that Varshore will just replenish itself within days…Can you really believe that?” Kemp shook his head slowly.

 

“No, I do not agree with them. But the villagers are still so afraid…and their leader has offered to pay the army, don't you forget. Money is a sure motivator. By small means or not, the gold from sending Jaser away will make some difference to this town.”

“Afraid of what exactly?” I pressed.

 

“When I was still a young one, there was a great shaking….it frightened many people. The ground shook with such force, only a few buildings remained. One of which, was the Temple. The ground rose out of the sea, destroying the port. The fishermen were horrified. They ran to the new shoreline, but the water was murky, uninhabitable. There were very little fish. Eventually, they became farmers further up from the swamplands. They fell into the practice of religion, holding festivals for fertility of the lands. However the new lands did not provide to be such a blessing. Crops grew deformed and disease prone, which eventually spread throughout the rest of the town. Ever since the ground shook, we suffer through mighty storms of wind and rain. When I was ten summers old, the heavens opened up to rain. Again, many buildings were destroyed. My parents thought the sea would reclaim our land, alas no – for days it rained until soon it all fell away, taking livestock with them, as it does often now. The town still slowly declines….the people have not forgotten the stories of yesteryear. When we once had fish and food aplenty. They are desperate now.” I turned away, sighing. I had to end this conversation – it was one that rarely went well these days.

“I should go eat” I mumbled under my breath. I turned around and headed back to the likely cold bowl. Maybe I could rest it over the fire and warm it some before eating it.

“However, while I understand their pain…I do not agree with them all. I do not think the gods are responsible, Cadeyn.” His voice sounded pained.

I nodded once, walking back towards the small table. The fire had completely died now. I put dry wood on the embers with some kindling. Hopefully it would catch soon from the heat of the embers. If not, I’d have to spend more time on it. Slowly, I sat and began to force the cold stew down. What was the meaning of the Nymph? Did the Crusade go to the length of summoning my mother, or grandmother to convince her to leave with them? For what sacrifice?

 

A sudden creak from the door distracted me from my thoughts. Jaser stumbled inside, slamming the door behind him.

 

“Hello Cade….” A soft voice called out. I felt the hairs on the back of her neck raise. I closed my eyes, tight as I could. What would today bring? Would it be old Jaser, apologetic Jaser, Angry Jaser…I felt hopeless for a moment, pulling together every thread of dignity I could find to sit upright and continue to scoop the now uninteresting lumps of meat and carrot.

“Your food will be cold. Kemp prepared it earlier.” I mumbled between mouthfuls. He sat at the table with a thud, belching suddenly. I dropped my spoon in the bowl, staring at him. Usually, his manners were impeccable – Kemp would have belted him as a child if they were not. Each day he spent with the crusaders, the more he acted like them.

“I think you were supposed to bring your manners back with you. It appears you have left them at the tavern.”   A sheepish smile fell across his face.

 

“Then, I should apologise, my lady” He laughed.  My eyes narrowed, immediately recalling what the Nypmh had spoken barely moments ago.

 

“What did you just call me?” I asked.

 

 “Lady…” his face betrayed him for a moment, worry setting into his eyes. “I was unaware it caused you such offense.”

“Cut it out. Why do the crusaders insist on calling me a Lady?” I demanded, trying to grasp the spoon again without seeming too tense.

“Really I was just kidding…” He seemed a little unnerved, taking a spoonful of the stew.

I didn’t break her eye contact, frowning. He had never once called me a lady before, tonight was no coincidence.

“Tell me.”

“Why is it such a big deal?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. I said nothing, staring at him. If I knew Jaser well, there was an easy way to break him. While he spooned down mouthfuls, each quicker than the last, eventually he made eye contact again.

 

“Fine...just don’t get mad.” He eventually sighed. “One of the older men in the crusade…he said he recognized you. He said your grandmother followed a crusade many years ago.” He sighed. “She was known as the…”

“White lady.” I interrupted. Jaser raised an eyebrow.

“Did you want me to tell you or not?”

 

I sighed, nodding my head.

“Sorry…”

“She was supposed to be the chosen one of the righteous goddess Shalenti.” I scowled at the mention of the gods. “He said she was murdered. She didn’t listen to a priestess, who foresaw she was in danger. They said you might be afraid to travel with us because of what happened to her.” I laughed suddenly – such a story concocted to make me travel?

“You think I’m afraid? My grandmother left my mother alone as a child – out of choice. She was a fool. Did you not see what happen to my mother? She was young and naïve. She married a …a drunken fool!” I  broke eye contact with Jaser.  “Then when she never returned, my mother was stuck. She had nowhere to turn, and the village would hardly support her. As a result, my father threw a drunken tantrum and murdered her. She was too afraid to stand up to him…” My voice faltered for a moment before continuing.  “I will not join this crusade. It leaves behind more problems than it solves. The last crusade had the same cause, yet it was a failure and waste of life. The war is still on! Over land and titles!”

 

“It’s different this time” Jaser protested. “They know much more. They are stronger. They will pay gold for our absence – you do realise how much this village needs gold?” He reached his hand out, touching my cheek. “We can get the blessings of the gods once more….you don’t have to live like your family once did. We will get married, and have a family without worrying about plague, rations…all of that...I will not treat you like your father treated Catherine…” I closed my eyes, willing myself to feel comfort in his words. I tried to hush my thoughts, pushing them away, to believe him. Within moments, I pulled away, my thoughts burning to the surface. I pulled away from his hand, watching it fall to the table.

“You do not know what you are talking about, Jaser. What good can taking all the men away from the village do? The village is struggling even with our men to farm. The woman cannot do it all.” I lowered my voice. “Your father is growing old, Jaser. What will happen to him without you?” I shook my head. “You know me for what I am. I am not a woman to give her life away to become bound to a house. I am a warrior, Jaser, just as you are. If I have children…it automatically puts them in danger of becoming orphans. I cannot allow that.”

He shook his head.

 

“You do not have to be a warrior once these problems have been eradicated…”

 

“But you are forgetting that it is who I am. It is in my blood! You can’t marry me hoping I’ll just change my ways….you have to marry me for who I already am.” My voice became soft, watching his expression change. For all it was worth, I didn’t want to hurt him more than I knew he was hurting, however he was acting.

“For Aemeil’s sake Cadeyn! Are you blind and deaf? I’m going to help this village! It’s not all about you and I!” I tried to remain calm, drawing in a deep breath.

 

“I simply told you I do not think there are any gods out there to fight for. If I am wrong and there are almighty gods – they could do it for themselves.” I tried to speak evenly, not to show how much the issue was angering me. It didn’t seem to help.

“Will you wake up?” he yelled. “What makes you so think you are so much better than everyone else? If you dare voiced your opinion to the village, they would surely put you to fire, and I cannot protect you from that! Have you gone mad, Cade?”

 

I raised myself to her feet, staring him in the eyes. “Perhaps it is dangerous…” I began “but the Crusade doesn’t sit well with me. There is something just not right, and I cannot make myself trust it, just because you would like me to!”  

He yelled in frustration, his father sighing in the doorway behind him. My eyes sheepishly met Kemp. I didn’t want to argue with his only son, in his house.

“I don’t give a damn who I am leaving behind!” he lowered his voice. He hadn’t seen  his father, nor did he realise I was staring right at him. “Father hasn't much time left, and the crusade cannot wait. I might as well help the village before I am stuck here! He had the chance once before to join the last crusade! He could have made a difference!”

 

I felt sick suddenly, moving her focus back to Jaser. It was not uncommon anymore to witness such a switch in moods. Suddenly, he moved. I was unprepared. I felt the string of his fist against my jaw as she stumbled back. I saw stars for a moment, raising my own arms to defend myself while I stumbled backwards. He had hit her before, yes, but it was sparring. It was training – and not intended to injure. I caught my balance, the familiar taste of coppery blood filling her mouth. If he intended to follow through, he missed his moment. He was staring at me, his mouth slightly ajar, his fists open again.

 

“You never, ever, do that again.” I swallowed a mouthful of blood, churning my stomach. I wasn’t good with blood. I sucked my hurt lip in. I could take more, physically, but this. This was…heartbreaking.  I watched Jaser regain his composure, straightening himself up. I longed to hit him back, to yell, to scream.  Maybe, if Kemp wasn’t there, I’d kick him in the nether regions. Teach him something about defense.

 

“Jaser! Compose yourself!” Kemp hollered from the doorway, his voice faltering. Jaser said nothing, silent.
 

“Perhaps it’s time to remove your things, Jaser…if you are to leave, perhaps it is for the best…although it pains me to see you leave in this manner. I thought your move was courageous and noble. Perhaps I was wrong….”

I turned from the two men, pushing past Jaser as I walked. I stormed down the hallway towards her room, closing it quietly behind me, trying to mask the building rage I was feeling. I tested my jaw, rubbing it. It was no means his full strength – still, why did he do it? With a reluctant sigh, I curled up on the mattress on my floor, reality setting in.  I can no longer marry him, no. He is no longer the man who asked my hand in marriage…

3: Dreams

 “Before you were born, there was so little food, the only way to ensure that there would be a Varshore today was to prevent the village from growing any larger. If we had too many more children, we would all starve to death. We could not find more land outside our boundaries, no, that would incite war. That is when there were laws put in place. Each family could have one child each. However, men were extremely important. They are the ones who protect us. A boy child is valued.”  My mother takes a deep breath, staring into the fireplace. She places another chunk of wood onto the dying fire, using the poker to help it catch alight.

“But I am an only child, what wrong with that?” I ask her. Her eyebrows knot together as she chews upon her bottom lip. She nodded at me slowly.

“Yes, you are our only child darling. There…there was no protection of female infants. Some men had taken it upon themselves to….rid themselves of female infants. The village turned away. They were not ready to accept what they were doing as wrong. They were just so desperate…”

“Mother….what happened to the girls?” My stomach churned. I wasn’t sure if I was ready for the answer.

“They were treated as if they never existed. Their graves line the bottom of the river Thyme to the north.” Her voice trembled for a moment. “That is why it is forbidden to swim in the Thyme anymore. It is not dirty, Cade, it is a gravesite.” My mouth went dry. My mouth opened for a moment before I could close it. The children I was supposed to learn, play with, were dead. I should have been dead with them. My mother couldn’t look at me eyes anymore.

 “Elizabeth, the midwife, attended your birth. Your father was away hunting at the time. He was not expected back for many hours. Elizabeth allowed me the time to grieve and say goodbye to you. I had carried you in my stomach for three seasons. Yet I saw your perfect face for the first time that morning. I could not bear to let you go. I had dreamed of having a beautiful blonde girl, to run away with her and protect her. And there she was, about to be taken away before her life had really begun. You were my precious baby. What I felt then, was the most powerful thing I could have ever felt.” I couldn’t look at her. How could they let this happen? I turned away, fumbling with my fingers.

 “How did you stop me being killed? How come they did this! It’s horrible!” I begged for answers, but I knew there were none. She continued, but her voice was faltering. now.

“Some other mothers fled, seeking shelter in neighboring villages, some giving their daughters to orphanages in the city. I begged Elizabeth, I cried, I pulled on her skirt. I tried anything to get her attention. Elizabeth ignored me. I could see tears beginning to form in her eyes. I knew this was hard on her too. After all, it was the orders she had been given. Your father was the one who would give her gold in return for her services, whether there was a boy child…or none. She insisted she could not help me. Yet I had an idea. Mad and unheard of perhaps, but it was all I had. I began to beg that she tell the village I gave birth to a son. I would run away with you as soon as I recovered. I would flee the village to the beautiful city of Shonsta, where your grandmother lived. I would save you, my little girl. She still shook her head – your father was exactly the kind of man to hurt Elizabeth's own family in retribution. Then I remembered. Before my mother left on her travels, she had sewn jewelry into the hems of my skirts. Why? She didn’t want me to wear the jewels – it was my security. Her parting gift – my security if something ever went wrong. If she was never to return to Varshore, it would provide me with something I could trade for my freedom.

“Why didn’t you sell them for food?”  I asked. There had been many nights we went to bed hungry. Many days where we ate almost nothing. When we were hungry, we drank water. Sometimes mother would give me her bread.

“I was terrified. My mother insisted it was only for a true emergency. If I had shown your father I had the jewelry, he would have taken them from me. I couldn’t risk it... Instead, I tore at the seams of the old skirts. Elizabeth did not understand what I was doing. I gave her the first thing I found. It was my mother’s favorite necklace.” She smiled wistfully. “It was made of gold and silver chains, twisted together into a necklace. It held a pendant – a simple, but beautifully cut ruby surrounded by a few smaller diamonds. I did not know its material worth, but it was nothing compared to you. When I presented the necklace, Elizabeth’s eyes first filled with awe, then greed. She could tell why I was holding that necklace upon my palm.”  

My father. I knew she was telling the truth. Father would never have let us have riches.

“We made an agreement. Elizabeth would accept the bribery and I would flee. She needed security of her own. She kept her side of the deal and you were officially announced Cadeyn, Son of Marcus and Catherine Vertas.” Catherine hesitated for a moment before continuing.

“Then why are we still here?” I asked. My mother couldn’t look at me in the face.

“I was terrified. I had never been on my own before. I was not as brave as my mother. My mother once told stories of bravery of my grandmother. I was never as good as them. I was not brave enough.” She hung her head in shame. “As you grew older, I insisted you follow at my heel. You did not speak to anyone other than I, or at times, Elizabeth. You were only to speak to your father when urgent. You were not to leave my side. This angered your father. You did not hunt with him nor did you bathe near him. Your father did not think of you as a…appropriate child. It did not matter, you were safe. He insisted that if you did not become more like a normal child your age, he would right the situation. That he would take care of you – a bear attack, an accident in the woods. I had to find a way to make you please him, without our secret being revealed. I did just that.”

“How?” I asked her again.

“Master Kemp. I took you to him to train. Your father accepted your training, and has left it alone, for now. Most importantly, as a result. You are alive.”

***

I woke with a jolt. Someone had slammed the cottage door open. I wiped the cold sweat from my face. My mother haunted me in my dreams. Her choices, forever etched in dreamland. I could hear Jaser stumbling about not too far outside my door. Disappointment welled up for a moment. He had been drinking heavily again – the give away in his uncoordinated thundering steps. I would have to let go of the idea he would be the same person he was barely a moon ago.  I stood up, opening my door a fraction. I stood in the dark, watching him from the crack in my door. He shuffled around for what seemed an eternity. Oh gods, he was making his way towards my door. I slunk backwards, waiting for him to knock. He hesitated, turned, and stood there. I held my breath, waiting for him. Then he simply turned and walked away. If my heart could have sunk further, it would have cracked onto the floor. I watched him until he was out of sight, hearing him push the cottage door back into place.

My vision blurred and I pushed away the tears threatening to fall.

“Goodbye Jaser…” I whispered. There was no promise I would see him after this crusade. At this stage, even an empty promise would have been worth something.

“You know” A silk voice replied. “This will not be the last you see of him.”

My stomach tightened as I spun around to face her. She looked at me. There she was. Still as inhumanly beautiful as ever. 

“You!” I hissed at her quietly, trying not to wake Kemp.

The Nymph that called herself Nuwa smiled, blonde hair now plaited down across one of her shoulders, mirroring my own.

“What a pleasurable greeting, my Lady.” She smiled at me. “I did tell you my name, no? It is Nuwa, if you have forgotten.”

“Who summoned you?” I demanded.

“I came of my own accord.” She huffed. “I came to tell you, that you are on the right path. I have no business with men.”

“Then what journey did you speak of?”  I demanded quietly, liking the sound of anger in my voice keeping my nerves away. The spirit smiled sweetly once again.

“I am glad you finally wish to speak to me, my Lady. I was beginning to worry my energy here was being wasted.”  I glared at her.

“I asked you a question.” I pointed out

“I am unable to speak of your journey until it has begun.” She shrugged gracefully.

“Then why are you here?” I dug my fingers into my palm again, trying not to step backwards and away from her. The worst thing I could do, is let her know I was afraid of her.

“I came to tell you that you have made the right decision.” She motioned to the door. “You both have two very different paths to take, leading to the same destination. You will learn the same lessons from separate teachers. Have faith.” She smiled at me like this was as clear as mud.

“Have faith in lunatics?” I muttered under her breath. If she was being honest, which I doubt she was – she had to be as mad as the rest of the crusaders.

“My time has come, lady Cadeyn. I must return to my resting place for now.” She walked out of our cottage completely silently – like she was here, yet not in any physical sense. I glanced out the window, a fox dashing towards the Temple under the light of the moon.  I could feel the nerves in my stomach – I had been holding my hands so tight they were tingling. That was no normal fox. I shook my head, trying to bring myself out of my reverie. I climbed back under my blanket, pulling it in tightly. I closed my eyes, trying to fall back into sleep before the tears fell. Sleep. An impossible place to be on a night like this.

 

4: A Second Goodbye

When things felt out of hand, I found myself spending far too much time on the cliffs. There was something to be said about being away from people. Friends, in Varshore, were hard to come by. Loyal ones – well, that is a true rarity. I’ve never been sure if Kemp was a friend, or if I should call him family. He was not related to blood, so it was easier to call him an older, loyal friend. Jaser, until recently, fell in the same category. Technically, I could call him family, since we were planning to wed. I would have been married to him now, if I had not put it off for so long. It hadn’t seemed an urgent thing to do.

 

The idea of being married kept bringing me to the same place I found myself. The cold air, the loneliness and the wind bringing me some kind of peace. Until the crusaders came, I didn’t think I’d have a “bigger” problem. Like wondering if the crusaders could possibly help the village?

I angrily plucked bits of grass, one by one, like they could somehow answer for everything that had bothered me. 

 

Do the gods care enough to bring back everything Varshore lost? Or what did the spirit mean? Would I see Jaser again?

 

Reluctantly, I made the small walk over to the small spring a few minutes away, filling my waterskin. The willows were only just growing their leaves back after winter. This used to be where Jaser would sit with me in evenings after training.

 

***

The spring was more a small pool of water – a clear pond surrounded by trees. The grass was cool here, and on hot evenings it was refreshing just to lie, eyes closed and think I heard him coming long ago. Jaser, was never anything but quiet. Sometimes he sat nearby, probably daydreaming his own dreams. Sometimes I thought he was watching me – but the moment I looked, he was looking in another direction. I could hear him scrambling up the tree – it sounded like he lost his footing briefly once or twice, before scooting along the tree. It took effort not to open my eyes at look at him. It was more unsettling that he was quiet.
 

Moments later I felt it. The tickle on my nose. I couldn’t help it. My eyes flew open and there he was, hanging upside down, a breath away from my face. He grinned and said “Boo!”

 

I couldn’t help it – I had thought he was still in the tree. Before I knew what had happened, I pushed him – and he landed flat on his back with the loudest thud. I went to check if he was okay, and, for the love of the gods, fell over his damn leg. There I was grabbing onto his arms to hold myself up – straddling him, looking straight at his face. I was mortified!

 

 “Jaser! I’m sorry! I thought it was someone spying on me…” I didn’t think I could have come up with anything less stupid.  Jaser put on a mock look of despair and laughed.

 

“Cade, I was only coming to tell you we are having a late dinner, and asked you to join! Ohh, the agony of my fall…” I stopped, slowly pulling myself backwards. So he was going to play this game.
“Oh, and you knocked the breath out of me, look at you, just pinning me down on the ground…” He moaned, stifling a laugh. He stopped then, still trying not to laugh at the look of my face. I’m still not sure if it was anger or bemusement – or sheer horror for the fact I was trying to make it look like I was holding him in place on purpose.

 

I knew it wasn’t a “late dinner” – we’d already eaten, and food was not so plentiful we were starting to have second dinners. I raised my eyebrows at him.
“Is that so?” I mustered. I went to move back, away from him. Then he did it. He used her movement to free his arm, his hand coming towards my face. I froze. His thumb grazed my cheek. Nobody had ever touched me, combat aside, other than my mother. It wasn’t unpleasant, but I felt the burn of my cheeks. Some part of me wanted to lean into his hand. I couldn’t do it. I pushed myself back slowly, sitting back on the grass. He couldn’t see how that affected me. Jaser didn’t seem too bothered – he just sat upright again and watched me. He mumbled something, but I didn’t hear it from the beating of my own heart in my chest. He reached out again, touching my face. With his other hand, he pulled off my leather glove, tossed it onto the grass and held my hand, watching me.  I closed my eyes, trying not to scare him away with my own insecurity.  It was nice – the soft tingling of his calloused thumb on my cheek, the feel of his hand in mine.

He had always been there. Always. He had not said a single thing to me after my mother passed away. He had picked me up and simply carried me to his home. He pulled the heavy woollen blanket over me, and sat with me while I cried. He was there when I woke up – and many mornings after that. As friends. Always as friends.

 

When he moved close to me, my eyes flew open. His lips met mine, twice. My lips tingled and I licked them in surprise. I was frozen to the spot. I didn’t want him to stop. His hand ran into my plait, pulling it out and playing with the strands. He moved next to me, pulling me into his arms. We sat together until night fell, watching the summer stars come out, when he touched his lips to my ear and whispered “I love you.”

**

I shook her head furiously, brushing away a tear. I secured the top of my waterskin – it had been full for awhile. Do I really want to throw it away? I secured the waterskin to my belt. There had never been a date set – only intentions. Until recently, there was no reason to assume she would either be with someone else, or him with another.  I felt it again then – this crawling sensation of being watched. I spun around, my hand resting on my sword. Nuwa was there, dressed from head to toe in black, her hands clasped together. Her hair was unadorned today, simply falling straight down her back and over her shoulders. I hitched in a breath. She looked like she was going to a funeral.

 

“Lady Cadeyn.” She sung out softly. “It is time you return home for your goodbye.”

“Excuse me?” I asked. “What are you talking about.” My heart began to beat harder. Jaser….

“It is your last chance” Nuwa frowned. “To say goodbye to your friend. He is dying as we speak.” I drew my sword, pointing it out towards Nuwa. If spirits could be afraid – Nuwa certainly wasn’t, and that was unsettling. “You are running out of time, and I believe you will want his blessing.”

“Excuse me?” I spluttered. “What did you do to him?” She demanded. She felt her cheeks heat in anger. Panic began setting in.

 
“She is reclaiming your Master Kemp in old age.” Nuwa spoke softly. “I did nothing. Without me, you would return to his body cold. You need to hurry, child of mine. Say your goodbye and leave Varshore. If you stay, without his protection, they will call you witch and burn you, child of mine. Go and go now.”

For a moment my heart stopped. It wasn’t Jaser. Kemp had been fine this morning…but he had been in poor health for a while. For a moment I hesitated, before turning and running towards the cottage. Every turn seemed to take twice as long, the church graveyard doubled in size. Every day prior seemed to take minutes to walk from the church to the cottage – right now, it felt like a week to make it back home.

 

 She flung open the door, her heart sinking. Kemp was in his chair, an old wooden rocker, looking pale.

“Cadeyn…” he slurred. “I thought you’d find me later.” He admitted. I ran to him, grabbing his hand.

“What has she done to you?” I whispered. I felt the tears run down my cheeks hot. His face was pale - his mouth drooping slightly at one side. 

“Grow” He seemed to say. I frowned and he shook his head strangely. He seemed frustrated, trying once more. It came out the same. It didn’t make sense.
“Grow?” I asked. “Grow what.”   He didn’t respond. One side of his face looked sunken. My heart thundered and I touched his cheek.  “It will be okay, Kemp.” I whispered. “I’m here.”

“Go.” He spluttered finally.

“Where? Why?” I asked him. He wasn’t making much sense. My heart hammered. Nuwa…she was right. Something was happening to him, and it wasn’t right.

“Jah…sver..” He spat out. He looked disorientated, his head not moving quite right.

“Jaser?” I guessed. He stared out towards the wall – one eye not fixating on anything. He made an attempt at a nod, but seemed to find it hard to pull his head back into place.

“Save him.” He rasped. I held his hand, the one not hanging limply. He squeezed it and drew in shaky breaths for some time. I leant against him as he breathed.

“Did I ever tell you I loved you?” I whispered back to him. He didn’t respond.

 

 

5: Magic of the Gods

Funeral preparations in Varshore, mercifully, were simple and short. Half a day, beginning immediately on the church’s notification of death, would be allocated to goodbyes. You would be allowed a quiet moment in peace to give your loved one a kiss goodbye, and a chance to leave a token of gratitude with them to take to the otherworlds.

I had already said mine, moments before Kemp’s time was up. I sat at the back of the church, awaiting the burial at dusk. His body would be lowered into the ground, covered – and mourners would visit his grave as necessary over the days to come. I was glad for nothing fancier. Neither the coins left in my possession, nor the energy left in me could handle it. I drew my knees in close to my chest, watching the visitors come and go. As the closest person left to him, I was expected to stand guard over his body and mourn with his visitors. Another tear rolled down my cheek unguarded. I didn’t have it in me to stand. There was no-one left who was as close to me as Kemp and Jaser. Surely I would be allowed the chance to grieve that I had no-one left.

 

Elizabeth was next to visit Kemp. She gave him a kiss on the cheek, slipped something next to him and left again.

 

Nuwa, to my surprise, was next. Her hair was covered with a scarf, her fragile slim figure shielded with a loose dress. She gave him a quick peck on the forehead, said nothing and promptly head towards me. She frowned, her mouth pursed.

 

“You must leave, my Lady.” She insisted. “Before his burial is complete.”  She locked her eyes with mine. “Or they will burn you.”

 

“Excuse me?” I mustered. “Why on Casteri…would they burn me? Who?” I stammered out.  She shook her head, reaching out for my hand. Slowly, out of confusion,  I accepted her hand and touched her. There was no warmth to her – an empty solid, fluid mass to her. It was like holding the hand of a child sick with cold. This should have made me draw back, perhaps call Omar, the priest’s attention to cleanse her from the church. Still, she had enough power to lead me to an adjoining room, and I did not have enough energy to complain. She motioned to the far wall.
“Listen.” She quietly insisted. There was muffled talking in the next room, but the words were not clear enough to make out an entire conversation. I raised one eyebrow, and placed my ear against the wood. The sounds were still muffled – but they were loud enough to hear clearly enough now.

 

“Are you sure?” It was Omar. Omar was a gentle man, never wavering in his faith. He had neither agreed nor disagreed with the crusade, remaining eerily silent on his opinion. He declared the scripture does not make it clear either way, what his stance should be. I liked him. I very, very rarely, visited his church, yet he still never spoke an ill-mannered word towards me. He would greet me, welcome me, and speak to me as I were a friend. Right now, however, he sounded furious – a strange way imagine of him.

 

 “It is a dangerous precedence to set!” He sounded angry. “I will have no part in this…madness! There is no holy text that would suggest such anger!”

 

“Do you not worry, Omar, that she is a disciple of Aemiel?” I didn’t recognise the voice – it could have been any woman in Varshore.

“No, I cannot say I have worried about that.” Omar replied back.

“When was the last time she prayed for forgiveness to Shalenti?” The voice pressed again.  There was a silence now. Who had worried Omar’s visitors so badly? Another voice spoke now, a deep voice.

“She has nothing left. Leave her be. I would be surprised if she lasts a week in Varshore now.” Still, unfamiliar. That wasn’t a surprise, I hardly socialised with the other men, and even less with the women.

 

The first spoke again. “I feel a deep sense of evil coming off her, Omar. I incite the right of fire, as per our holy scripture.” Omar groaned in response. Who had committed a sin so badly to deserve that? Not even my father, murdering my mother in the street, had been subject to that. Instead, he had been shunned – ostracised by our community, as light as I thought the punishment was.

“That right, Marcella, is not yours to invoke. It is mine, and mine alone. I will not sentence this girl, however unorthodox, to death by fire. Now I must ask you to leave.”  

“How do you think Kemp died, so sudden, so mysterious, Omar? I must again insist that you call forth your right to put her to the fire!” My heart started to thunder in my chest. I swallowed, slowly. I knew the answer of who this girl was now. I rarely attended church – my mother had brought me in, perhaps thrice as a child. Some event had perturbed her and we never returned. On hindsight, I lamely wondered if Nuwa had haunted my mother too. I really needed to start trying harder to avoid her. This was her second warning…I could trust her, and potentially do her bidding. However, if she spoke the truth… and I did not heed her warning, my life could be very short indeed.

“Marcella, that was intended for workers of witchcraft and dark prayer. Kemp was hardly a healthy young man!”  I didn’t know this Marcella – who was she? Varshore was not a large place, and surely I should remember such a name.

“She was born with darkness – Elizabeth said she was sure it was a boy when she was born, but now she thinks about it, the birth was hazy, she can’t remember a thing! She’ll testify that there is a darkness about her…we will put it to vote.” I pulled back from the wall. Nuwa remained passive, her face betraying nothing. I shook my head.

“I do not think I am unlikable to such a degree they would put me to vote for death by fire.” Still, the doubt lingered. It didn’t sound pleasant, regardless. Nuwa stared at me, placing my hand to the wall.

“Feel this, my Lady. Hold it to the wall. Listen again.” She whispered now. “I can give you, for the time, the touch.”

 

I opened my mouth to question her, she glowered at me.  I sighed, closing my eyes. The wall felt like a wall. Cold. Hard.

“Omar, child of the night. Look at me. Listen to me.”  It was Marcella again. The wall felt the same. Omar did not reply. My fingertips felt warm first, then they fizzed, heat spreading out to my palms. They cooled again.

 

“Listen to me. Prepare the scriptures. Prepare the fire. As per the scripture, at dawn, we will take Lady Cadence, and she will burn to atone for her sins against Varshore. Shalenti will cleanse us again.”

 

My hand burned then and I ripped it away. Looking down, my hand was hot – the skin was still pale, dry with a callous near my little finger. It looked, for the best part, unharmed. I shook it, trying to cool it down. I bit my lip to stop me from screaming. As quick as the pain was there – it was gone. What Omar said next, was loud enough I did not need to press my ear against the wall.

“I hear your command. Lady Cadence shall atone for her crimes.”  My heart thundered now. I stared Nuwa in the eye.

“What on Casteri was that?” I hissed at Nuwa.

“It was the power of the gods, my Lady. Now, I must ask you again. Go, pack what you must – and leave as soon as night falls. Do not be seen, do not be heard.” She closed her eyes, fluttering them for a moment.

“I must go, my Lady. I have expended too much energy for now. May we cross paths again.”

I scarcely had a chance to blink – and she was gone. I took one last glance at the wall and took in a deep breath. Steading myself, I held my head up and walked back into the main church. There was another, Sarah, kissing his cheek now, placing her token on his chest. I gave her a smile and walked outside. The glare of the outside sun hit my eyes. I shielded them, making a direct path to our, no, my home.  I glanced up towards the market as I made my way past – several woman stood in a huddle, pointing towards my. My stomach sunk, I broke into a jog. The moment I shoved my door open, I shoved it back closed. My breath came in shuddering gasps. I pushed into Jaser’s room, grabbing a larger bag which he had left behind. I had very few things of value.

I had my mothers ring – that belonged on my finger, as it had been since her death. There was a small pouch of coins under Kemp’s mattress, and an even smaller pouch under my own. A change of clothes. There was dried meat, bread and cheese in the larder. A second water skin.  I hesitated, standing outside my door. I put my bow and arrows down next to my bag. I had terrible aim – close combat was my forte, although, perhaps it would come in handy should I have the need to hunt. I slung the bags over my bag, hesitating. If I walked out of Varshore right now – they would see me, and Hemlin, the small town over the hill – would be the first time they found me. I needed to leave unseen. I dropped the bag again, covering it with my blanket. Taking a deep breath, I walked into the kitchen. Dusk would fall soon. When dusk fell – they would bury Kemp – if I avoided the graveyard and took a horse from the stable – I would be gone before they found me at dawn.

I sat at the kitchen table, burying my head in my hands. It would be a long afternoon.

 

6: Sian

Wait until the first star. It had become my chant. There had been no knock at the door. No group of villagers to bring me to the fire. Maybe they planned to obtain me at the burial, for surely I would not offend Kemp’s body to such a degree I would not attend his burial. Finally, the first twinkling of the star was visible. I gathered my things, hauling them to the fields behind our house. Jaser’s horse had been gone for some time now. Kemp had sold his horse months ago, when his joints began to ache and he struggled to get into the saddle. Maia, my mare, had been alone ever since. She greeted me and I kissed her on the nose, resting my forehead on her for a moment. I dragged my bags to the small shelter we had nicknamed the stable, retrieving her saddle and reigns. She was complacent enough it didn’t take much time to prepare her for the journey. I loaded her up with what I could afford to take, strapped the bow and arrow to my own back, repositioned my sword and mounted her.

Light was fading now.  I pushed Maia into a gentle trot. If I pushed her in a gallop – she could, probably, maybe, make Hemlin at that speed. I sighed. Trouble was, if I had to leave Hemlin in a hurry, she would be unlikely to go far. I swallowed, nervously gripping the reigns. No, a trot would have to do. Do not behave like a predatory animal. I reminded myself. If I was seen to run… then I would be signing my own death warrant.  I drew in a steady breath, trying to turn to see if I could see anyone. The fields were quiet. Finally, I reached the tree line – the forest would give me some cover.

**

I could see it now. Once out of the cover of the trees, there was downhill path that lead to Hemlin. Hemlin was a crossroad town – you could head west to Varshore, south to the fishing Village of Icari, east to Kalder, a town troubled by crime. The church built a massive monument to Shalenti there to help “dispel” Aemiel’s  energy. This attracted some more of the holy types on pilgrimages to be promptly troubled by others, selling them highly addictive “Clarity”. Rumour has it, once you drink it, you can converse with higher spirits, who will pass on their intentions to bridge a path back to Shalenti and her goodness. If you don’t’ die from the addiction first. Finally, north, the city of Rauos. An impressive paved city, controlled by a self-declared king, Arrock. If I was looking for a woman who was trying to hide out trouble – I would follow the wide, easy to ride path directly into the city where it was too easy to lose yourself. That’s exactly why I have to avoid the city walls, and the city guards. Kemp had initially intended for Jaser and I to move there, he had trained us to become city guards. For some reason or another, over time he appeared to grow tired of the idea, grooming Jaser to become the head of the village. We never asked his reasoning, which now, will be long lost.

Bringing Maia to a stop outside Hemlin’s wooden fences, I dismounted, taking her by the reins and walking her through. There was only one Inn in Hemlin – and thankfully, easy enough to find in the dark if you listened for the chortling laughter. I passed the stable boy a coin to care for Maia, drew my hood over my hair, and pushed my way in.

Hemlin clearly saw better days than Varshore. The framework holding the Inn upright was dry and free from wood rot. I avoided the crowd and made my way up to the bar.
 

There was a younger woman working at the bar, perhaps a year or two younger than I. Of twenty summers? Younger? I wasn’t sure.  She looked down into my hood, raised an eyebrow and smiled. “Mind pulling down your hood, blue eyes? You could join us polite folk.” She joked. With a sigh, I pulled the hood back over my hair. For a moment, she frowned at me, pursing her lips – and then it was gone so quickly I could have imagined it.
“You are new here. My names Sian.”  She said it so sweetly, I wasn’t so sure she had frowned in the first place. Long dark hair and brown eyes, she looked like I should know her – but I was certain I had never seen her in Varshore before. Still, by the way she had glowered at me; I had to wonder if they been expecting me to flee? Suddenly, staying overnight in Hemlin didn’t seem such a smart idea. “I work and sleep here. Martin, the innkeeper owns the place. You bring trouble here, he’ll show you what the underside of his boot looks like. Now, may I help you?” She finished. It still sounded sickly sweet.

“It’s been a long day.” I offered. “A bed and a meal would be fantastic, then I’ll be on my way first thing in the morning.” I kept my head held high. I didn’t want her to think there was possibly a reason to think I was a shady patron.

“This late at night, there probably some soup and bread.” She offered, shrugging. “Usually the best fare goes earlier in the night.” I nodded. At this rate, I couldn’t afford to be picky.
“Three bits of gold then.” She said loudly, looking towards Martin. Martin was a stocky man, his gut leading to the obvious conclusion he neither lacked for or suffered from want.  I frowned, digging into my coin pouch for three coins – it was a hefty fare, but I needed food sleep if I wanted to keep going. I placed the coins on the counter.  At this stage, I wasn’t sure where I should be going – but far away from here would be a start. Maybe I could find Jaser. Maybe I’d be forced to join the crusade. At least, I could keep an eye on Jaser.  Sian passed over a heavy brass key and pressed it into my palm – back with the three coins I had already given her.  I hesitated for a moment – should I take my horse and head directly to Kalder?

“Upstairs, the only room to the left. You want your soup served in your room, or downstairs?”  I was grateful for the option.  I went to open my mouth about the coins – but she gave me a deathly enough glare I didn’t push it.

“Upstairs, please.” She nodded, seeming relived by my choice. 

“I’ll be right up then.” She made a shooing gesture with her hands, pushing me towards the stairs.

The Inn wasn’t unpleasant – just full of people who I didn’t want to recognise me, should someone come looking.

My room for the night was basic enough. A small table, a candle, a bed big enough for two and a set of drawers. I pulled the drawers open and frowned – they were full of clothes. Woman’s clothes. I turned around as Sian pushed her way through the door, bowl of soup and a large crust of bread on a platter. She glanced behind her briefly before shutting the door behind her.

“You have a price on your head.” She stated like she was pointing out a daisy is white. “A woman came past about two days ago – pompous thing, obviously some council wife who was unfamiliar with the idea of travel. Said if you ever came past here, keep you here and notify this fella called James. Shady thing he his, but he keeps his family’s belly full. Sells meat at the market to those less fortunate to him – old, smelly, chewy stuff. Not sure where he gets it from. At any rate, you’re worth a year worth of my wages.”

I froze, my hand reaching for my sword.

“You plan to keep me prisoner here, then pass me onto a merchant for coins, then?” I asked. I narrowed my eyes at you. She laughed, putting the soup on her hip.

“If you thought I was doing it for the money, you must think I am a fool. Why would I tell you, then? Why not serve your food, go tell James downstairs you’re here – he can take you away, hand over the bounty and I’ve got my ticket of here.  I’m unarmed, you have a sword, a bow and goodness knows what else. You and I are alike, more than you realise.” She looked at me right in the eye. “Lady Cadence” She drawled. “We are both wanted for something we didn’t do. Now, I see you have two options. I can scream for help, that there is an intruder in my bedroom and get rich quickly – or you and I can leave when the inn closes and make a break for it. She’s got guards waiting for you all the way to Rauos, probably Kalder too.” I swallowed, glancing down at the bowl of food. Suddenly eating her food didn’t seem a good idea. She laughed then, snatching a crust of bread.
“Is that all you are worried about?” She swirled the crust in the soup, taking a bite herself. She licked her fingers, and then opened her mouth to show she swallowed it. “I don’t poison my ticket of out here.” 

“You don’t know where I’m going” I reminded her. “Or why I have someone after me. “ A good point, I didn’t add – is that I wasn’t sure why there was someone after me, either.  She shrugged.
 

“At this rate, I need safe passage north. Lonesome travellers attract the wrong sort of attention. You are armed – and you seem to carry them like you know how to use them. Right now, I need someone with nothing else to lose. I could pick a handsome young mercenary to take me north, but then what? Have him claim rights to fondle me at night? Sell me off when he finds out I’m wanted? No. I need someone I’m on even footing with.”

She stared me directly in the eyes. I couldn’t shake the feeling I knew her – I was still sure I hadn’t.

“What did you do, so bad, you need to flee north?” I demanded. “If it is so bad, I deserve to know before we go.”

“You don’t deserve anything.” She spat. “I didn’t ask what you did – and right now, you are at my mercy, and mine alone. You are in my bedroom. You agree on my terms, and my terms only.” She seemed to grow twice her size then, her hands firmly on her hips.  I glared back at her.

“Fine.” I spat. “If we are so wanted, we leave the moment the inn clears out.” She smiled then, looking like the cat who ate the canary.

“Eat up then my friend.” She declared in a sing song voice. “Tonight, we are free!”

“Before you go” I couldn’t help but ask. “Did the Crusaders come past here?” She stopped then, the smile dropping off her face.”

“Of course they did” She snapped. “Theres no other path between Varshore and Shonsta.” She glared at me. “Why?”

“A friend, Jaser, was with them. I wanted to ask of his wellbeing.” If her face could look any darker, it did.

“We kicked them out. The darkness follows them – they are walking, talking wanted posters for the plague.” She spat. “I’m surprised you didn’t notice.” My mind went back to Suvar who was the most vile creature I had met that day.

“I’m aware of that.” I spat back. “But as far as I was aware, Jaser was healthy.” Please don’t tell me he was afflicted. Please don’t tell me he was afflicted. I silently begged.

“The man you speak of, Jaser? Impious, son of a …” she trailed off.

“What did he do?” I whispered.

“Slandered the woman here. Called them outright, dirty, nasty names. Grabbed my behind while I was serving ale. Deserves to be castrated, that one.” She glared. I swallowed, trying to keep my face set as stone. “Ended up bedding the same woman who wanted your head. I think following your so called friend isn’t the safest bet to freedom.”

I stopped trying to hold it together then, my breath hitched in. I felt something shatter – I didn’t know I had enough heart for it to break. I sat on the bed.  Her voice changed then.

“He wasn’t just your friend, was he?” She whispered.

“No.” I admitted. “I was going to marry him.” She rested a hand on my shoulder.

“You can do better.” She offered. “You’ll see. We’ll make a break for it to the north. Find us some wealthy man to take good care of us.” I gave her a smile that probably looked more like a grimace. Suddenly, I wasn’t so hungry. “I should go.” She whispered. “Martin will have noticed me missing by now. I’ll be back.” She scurried out of the room.

I sat there for a moment, staring at the bowl of soup.  Even the smell now was repulsive. Did Jaser have a hand in the bounty? Surely not. Over the last few weeks, the people on my side had dwindled from two – to none. I closed my eyes, trying to block out the mental image of Jaser in bed with another woman. We had never…never bedded each other. Slept in the same bed, yes, but never slept together in that context. It was another…another something that we had never discussed. He had asked for my hand in marriage, we lived together, I had assumed his belief in the gods led him to want to keep his, or my purity? I sighed, rubbing my temples, ignoring the burn of my tears rolling down my face. Slowly my breaths turned into sobs as I dropped my weapons, curling into Sian’s bed.

***

I could hear them arguing again. This time, they were arguing about mother’s old home. Father didn’t want to repair their old townhouse my mother grew up in, even though the wood was better – foreign, mother says, and not prone to the rot like the other houses. But the roof leaked, and it was smaller. Father wanted to sell it. Mother wanted to repair it and move in. Better for us, she told me. We would be sick less if our house wasn’t full of the rot. I pulled the blanket over my head. Mother was screaming again now. “Stop it!” “Don’t touch me” She would shout. Sometimes I didn’t hear her yell. Sometimes she just sobbed. Once I tried to stop Father, but he beat me and that seemed to upset Mother more. I hate him. Its better when he leaves to get work in Hemlin. Mother and I didn’t see him for a week once – that was the happiest I’ve ever seen her, even though we didn’t have enough food. I wish he stayed there, and Mother and I could move back into her old home. I wish there was something I could do.

I awoke with a gasp, the blanket beneath my face soaked with tears. I rubbed my eyes – something downstairs woke me. A bar fight perhaps. I rolled over, curling back into a ball, trying to drown out the sounds of the happy patrons downstairs.

Mother started binding my breasts this summer. It’s better this way she insisted. Gives us longer before we could leave and move to Rauos. We will find work there. She just needs to save a little more, and we can go. I will have to say goodbye to Jaser – Mother says Kemp will not let us go alone. I let out a gasp – there was a nasty bruise to the left of my breast where Jaser accidently hit me. Lucky it wasn’t with a real sword. I’ll have to be faster, next time. Mother rubbed her fingers over the bruise, sighing.

“It is for the best, Cade” She whispered, kissing my hair.

“I know, mother” I murmured back to her. I flinched – the door behind us slamming open. Father wasn’t supposed to be home yet. Mother gasped, dropping the bandaged. I quickly grabbed my shirt, pulling it together, the bandage mother was binding me with slipped down a little further. I stole a glance in fathers direction – had he seen? He was motionless, staring right at my chest. I glanced down, the curvature of my breasts easy to see now I had started to develop into a woman. His face turned redder. I adjusted my shirt, backing away slowly from his bloated, red face.

“I knew it” He murmered. “You dirty, lying, cheating….” He strode towards cathering.

“No!” I spat at him. “Leave her alone!”

“Shut up!” He yelled. “You’ve always been a worthless….so..” I think he wanted to say son, but changed his mind. “You’re a worthless, lying wench!” He shoved mother aside, swung his arm out and punched me across the face. I stumbled backwards – training with Kemp had shown me how to take a punch or two. 

“Your worthless. You cannot fool anyone, you are worthless!” He yelled again, spit flying from his mouth.

It took seconds to happen. First, her mother was trying to stand up, to pull him  away from me.Then, the silver of his dagger flashed, and he turned to her. It embedded under her ribs, and he pulled away. She ran then, out into the street, screaming for help, clutching the red that was pouring out onto her clothes.

“I told you not to lie to me! You wench of a woman!!”  He followed her. I ran after her. I didn’t keep a weapon at home – always with Jaser’s home. With Master Kemp. It wasn’t safe to carry weapons at home, he told me.

I remember the rest of the events, like they are burnt into my skull. We lived across the road from Jaser and Master Kemp. They were there in seconds, flying out of their home. Mother collaposed in the street. She was pale now. I grabbed her, but she had already hit the ground. She was trying to say something, but blood was coming out of her mouth and she was gagging. I don’t know what she was trying to tell me. “Your father” she said. That’s all she could manage.

“THEY ARE WITCHES! Dirty, filthy, lecherous WITCHES!” He screamed to the ence.sil

“Silence!” Master Kemp commanded, drawing his sword. “Enough!”

***

My eyes flew open, my hands to my mouth. I swallowed. Sian was in the door way, staring at me.

“Are you ready?” she asked. I let out a silent prayer, to whomever was listening – if anyone existed to listen, that it was dark. My heart felt like it was thundering in my throat. I went to retch and disguised it, poorly, with a cough. Sian frowned, grabbing a bag.

“You don’t have that nasty cough, do you?” She packed effortlessly, throwing the things she didn’t want in the corner of her room.

“Don’t think so.” I managed. That was the dream that haunted me the most. Reliving the moment my mother bled to death. This was the dream she wished she could forget. Her father was told to leave Varshore or face trial of fire. The villagers had suspected I was a woman, and, now they knew. News of him passed occasionally, mostly that he was a notorious drunk. There would be no peaceful sleep tonight.

 

 

 

7: On The Road

Sian made eye contact with me, placing one finger over her lips. “When we get downstairs, you’ll find that the cook, his son and the stable boy, asleep in front of the fire.” She kept her voice low, whispering. She hesitated before spinning to me, her eyes lit up in excitement. The edges of her mouth pulled into a sly grin to match her eyes.  She continued to whisper. “Most stable boys sleep outside…but I have this theory that Martin, the innkeeper, went off with another woman. One day, not long after we lost our last stable boy to lungrot – this young lad turns up. Said his mother’s name was Yolanda and Martin would help keep him, because Yolanda sure couldn’t keep food on the table. Martin just sat down. He stared at the boy for a good moment…and then just blurted out “You know horses then?” Martin looked so happy – like he had just solved this huge problem. The boy looked horrified and shook his head and just like that, Martin looked so deflated. Still, he just gave one of his big, deep sighs and boomed “Lemme teach you then, little lad”. She spoke louder then, mimicking the deep growl of the innkeeper’s voice. “Then he just rubbed his head and took him outside. He’s been treated twice as well as the last stable boy. Good thing to know, mind you, people’s weaknesses.” Sian winked. “You never know when you’re going to need to call on them.”

I gave her a numb nod of my head. I couldn’t form anything coherent to say to that. Maybe it was the events of the last while, or maybe it was confusion to why she would want to tell me rumours about the innkeeper’s fidelity – or what I’d say about them. I felt a slight pang to my heart then. If Jaser was having an affair – would he have children as a result? I could feel her eyes bore into me as I made half an effort to give her a reply.

“That’s true, I suppose” I weakly managed. My mind burnt with the idea of Jaser in bed with another woman. Maybe I should have gone with him. Maybe I should have claimed him. I bit my lip and broke eye contact with Sian, watching her stare me down with curiosity building in her expression. Maybe I should just follow him after all. He would be unaware of Kemp’s passing, and if roles were reversed…well, I’d want to know.

Sian, clearly unimpressed with my attempt at conversation, turned and slipped downstairs. She glanced at the sleeping forms at the hearth, two threadbare mattresses pulled out onto the floor. The cook was a thin, balding man – not what I would have expected from someone who worked with food. His son was tall and lanky – at a guess perhaps nine summers old? He was equally as thin as his father. The stable boy was asleep on the second mattress, his clothes threadbare, but still looked warmer than what the cook was wearing.  He also looked considerably better fed than the cook’s son. Perhaps Sian was right?  I couldn’t help myself, imagining what a child of Jaser would look like. Perhaps a fat toddler with a thick head of hair? Would he have his father’s dark eyes? Or my ice blue ones? My father had dark hair, yet my mother was as light as mine. What if…no, I would not be the child’s mother. The mother would be the priestess. I broke away from my thoughts, turning back to our task. Sian was fussing with something behind the counter. I frowned. What was she doing? Sian pulled up two small cloth bags – both full. Coin pouches. Was she stealing? With a wink, Sian pocketed them and walked over to the door. It was barred, a thick bar across to keep unwanted guests outside. She grabbed one side and motioned for me to grab the other. I glanced back at the sleeping bodies. Was letting Sian escape with the coins stealing too?  I glanced back at Sian, pointing to her coin pouches. She looked flustered for a moment – perhaps cross that I was highlighting her misdoings. She let go of the bar on the door, and tip toed over to the noticeboard. Jutting her finger out, she pointed at a sketch.

It was a simple, charcoal drawn picture of a woman. With a braid down one side of her head. My stomach sunk.
 

Wanted alive for witchcraft and crimes against the pure Goddess Shalenti.

Lady Cadence.

Reward: 100 gold coin.

I swallowed. She shrugged then, pointing back to the barred door. I grasped the bar and lifted it off slowly with Sian holding the other side. If you’re known for witchcraft, why not add theft to the list? Somehow, I’d be okay with a missing finger if it meant I wasn’t put to death by fire. The innkeeper had a round belly and a full tavern…he’d be okay without the gold. For now. Just this once. Sian and I moved the bar out of the way, Sian propping the door open for me. Then Sian was off. She bolted into the stables, saddling up a mare like she’d done it in her sleep. It was anyone’s guess if it belonged to her considering any normal serving girl could not afford a horse, let alone the cost of feed and shelter. I was beginning to think Sian wasn’t who I had initially pegged her to be. I saddled Maia and moved her out of the stables. The moment I mounted Maia – Sian was off towards the cross roads, with or without me. She didn’t speak again until we were headed towards Kalder.

“We did it!” She shrieked, once out of earshot. I stared at her for a moment. It was fairly clear she didn’t add up. A woman, barely of marriageable years working in a tavern as a serving girl should not be able to afford her own room and horse, while the cook and the innkeeper’s son sleeps at the hearth. By her confidence in the saddle, I guessed she had seen more than a day or two in a saddle.

“You are not who you seem, are you?” I asked. “Who are you really, to own a room where the Innkeepers bastard son sleeps on the floor?” Sian spun in her saddle slightly to look at me. Her dark hair, tied behind her with a ribbon bobbed behind her. I could make out enough of her frown in the darkness. Perhaps I hit a nerve.

“I told you my name.” She snapped. “I didn’t hand you over. I’m currently helping you, at risk to my own life. What more could you want?” I flinched. She relaxed then, blowing out a huge breath. “Sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”

“No.” I shook my own head. “I’m sorry…I just…trying to work out who you really are. It’s none of my business.” I offered. Clearly, this was going to be a sensitive topic.

She paused for a moment, looking ahead. “My name, like I told you, is Sian. I am the bastard child of a….my father’s. My mother was a barmaid in Hemlin, just as I was. She gave birth to me, however my father was already married and denied any such union ever occurred. Eventually, my mother chose to marry the church.” She spat. “I didn’t plan on going with her. I didn’t know where to turn, so I went to find my father. I found his town easily enough, but wise enough not to try and join his family. Messed up bunch.” She shrugged. “So I travelled on a merchants cart back to Kalder. I made my own family, on the streets.” She sat up straighter, facing forward, her face obscured by the night. “I found out many things these last five years.” She admitted.  “Mother, Father, Brother….” She trailed off for a second. “Sister. These are words that you only give to people who deserve them.” She coughed. There was enough emotion in her voice I believed her story, at least the major details. “But more importantly, I have coin to get us halfway north.” Sian looked at me then, wiggling one gloved hand at me. “And all ten fingers to get more should we need it.”

I nodded, turning my focus back to guiding Maia out of Hemlin in the dark. 

“Why did you not just turn me in for coin, Sian?” I asked. She was silent for a moment. “It would have been the easier thing to do.” She didn’t answer straight away, perhaps regretting her decision.

“The church makes many enemies, Lady Cadence.” She drawled out. “They take things off us lowly folk like they had owned it all along, ripping the rattle from the baby’s fingers.”  She hesitated for a moment.

“So, Cadence, who are you, what did you do to the church that has them wanting you alive?” She pressed. I swallowed – Sian had answered my question, although she hadn’t seemed very keen to do so. Would it be crazy to tell her my fiancé left and I started talking to spirits, who told me to go on the run? Probably not the wisest thing I’ve thought to do.

“I’m not Cadence. It’s Cadeyn – and if you wish, look at my hands. I’m certainly no royalty.”

“Cadeyn then.” She dismissed it. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“I uh.” I hesitated again. She turned, looking at me.

“Suddenly shy when the tables are turned?” She asked. I tried to stick to the facts.

“My mother raised me as a boy.” I admitted. “Because things were happening to little girls when they were born.” My voice was quiet, but it still echoed out into the night. “Thing’s no mother should have to do.” There was no other sound than my voice and the clip-clap of our horse’s hooves for a long moment. “She was afraid that my father would expect a boy, and that I would simply disappear. “ Sian turned around again, staring straight ahead.  “I think, she was probably right. Father struggled to manage his ale. He was a hunter, forever in the woods, bring back deer or wild boar. We didn’t have much. Sometimes, if he did well, he would take a cart to Hemlin to sell the rest. Problem was, he never returned with coin. Mother said he spent it on himself at the inn on drink.”

Sian interrupted with a snort. “Well, there you have it. Think of the coin I took as coin that should have belonged to you.”

“Either way, we had very little. Father reminded my mother that when I was older, I would make the family richer by hunting with him. She was afraid for me, so afraid.” I trailed off for a moment. I dug nails into my thigh – tears wouldn’t help anyone right now.

“My mother had me train with weapons with another boy from the village – that was Jaser you met. He stood up for me through our childhood. The other children knew I was not normal – and Jaser would often come back with black eyes from getting in other fights with the other boys. Usually over me.” I couldn’t help but laugh then. “Problem was, because his father pushed his training so hard, he was usually better than the other boys. Jaser was going to join the guard in Rauos. You should have seen them.”

“My father figured it out, eventually.  He was suspicious, but it took until I started to, well, develop. There was no hiding it by that stage. He was so angry…and drunk. He lost all sense of reason, and this time….” I trailed off. I took a moment, biting on my tongue.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” Sian said softly. “I know what it’s like to lose a Mother. Mine left me by choice.” 

“Jaser’s father took me in. He wasn’t particularly wealthy and the extra mouth was hard for him. He lost his wife after Jaser was born. I took over what I could, but he insisted he would train Jaser and I for the guard in Rauos. When we were good enough, we were to apply and live in the city. We thought if we both worked, we could repay him – and he would live with us.” I admitted. He suggested we marry, live together – and perhaps he wanted a family. We never worked the details out. The plan was to get to Rauos first. Kemp had been chosen as the elder of the village for quite the time. When Kemp started to get unwell, last winter, he suggested to the village – out of the blue, that Jaser took his place. The village agreed only out of respect, I think. Jaser was, well, unpredictable at times, but his heart has always been in the right place. So, as a result, our plans got lost along the way. I hunted for fresh meat, Jaser worked on a farm as help. We made enough to eat between us, at the very least. I’m not sure what we were waiting for, why we did not apply in Rauos. By that point, we were quite good. Then the crusaders came.”

Sian gave a grunt. At least she was listening.

“Jaser had to make the decision, should we send some men to join Shalenti’s army? The promise was that coin would be sent in payment to the wives. They were full of stories, but so vague on what we were actually fighting. The villagers ate it up. The innkeeper was suddenly rich with all the coin from the ale. The crusaders seemed so wealthy. Of course they all looked like they were favoured by Shalenti with coin like that.  Men volunteered so their family would have coin while they were away. Jaser spent many evenings negotiating with them at first, then later, in the tavern with them. Every night, he came home drunker than the last. First he was happy – all smiles and kisses.” I admitted. “Then the more time he spent, the angrier he got. He was beginning to remind me of my Father, quickly.” I added. “Even his father could see it. They left soon after, and I refused to go.” I hesitated. “Not long after, his father passed away quite suddenly. I overheard, in the church, someone call …suggest I was practicing witchcraft.” I stayed silent, not sure what to add. “They were considering cleansing me by fire. There was nothing left for me in Varshore, so I just…left.”

Sian was quiet for a moment.

“But what did you actually do to them? For them to hunt you?” She was angry suddenly, staring at me. “What did you do? You waltzed into that inn, hood drawn. I knew you were hiding something the moment I laid eyes on you.”

“Nothing!” I admitted. She kept her eyes on me.

“They want you alive, you know that.” She raised her voice now. “I spent enough time in Kalder, in the shadows of one of the bigger temples to know that if someone has merely annoyed them – they turn up dead in an alleyway. The ones they want alive, the ones worth rewarding for – those are the ones that really did something. Something big. What did you do, that really got under the skin of the church?”

I hesitated, Maia slowing under my heel.

“I may have attracted the attention of a Nymph.” I said quietly. I wasn’t never particularly good at spinning lies.

“You what?” She pulled her horse abruptly to a stop, forcing me to do the same to Maia. “You attracted what?”

“They aren’t….rare…” I began slowly. “In Varshore…there was always….sightings. This one new my name. She came to me several times. One, while the crusaders were here. She was telling me I was not supposed to travel with Jaser. Again, she appeared after Jaser left. The third time…she warned me if I didn’t return home, I would find Jaser’s father dead when I returned. I ran home and, well. She was right. He was dying.”

Sian swore loudly to no one in particular. Perhaps I should have left her guessing.

“Of what?” Sian pressed. She drew her horse closer to mine.

“I don’t know” I admitted. “He had been sickly for some time, but we had thought, simply his age was catching up to him. When I was sitting in mourning – she appeared for the same time. In the church. She told me to….overhear a conversation, where they were planning to take me into custody at dawn…but they didn’t want me alive.” I looked at Sian. “They wanted me to burn.”

Sian was close enough I could see her glare.

“Priestesses and the devout take Clarity for years to attain the ability to speak with spirits. You certainly don’t look like you’ve been taking it. You’re telling me you walked up and had a conversation with one?”

“I don’t even know what Clarity is.” I admitted. “I didn’t walk up to her – she followed me.” Sian watched me for a moment, silent. She said nothing, but I noticed her hands grip the reigns tighter.

“They said they wanted to burn you?” She asked. “Then why did the wanted poster, clearly, state they wanted you, alive?”

“I wasn’t aware they wanted me alive until you told me.” I retorted. “For all I know, until that moment I left, they didn’t want me at all. “

She was silent for a long moment.

“Did you drink anything the crusaders gave you?” She asked. I shook my head.
“No….they bought ale, but Jaser drunk it in my place. I can’t stand the smell of it.”

She didn’t reply.

“How long was that poster there?” I asked.

“The crusaders put it up, why?” Sian shrugged. I swallowed. This wasn’t making any sense. I held the reigns in one hand while I rubbed my temple.

“Maybe then, it’s for someone else entirely. Kemp only passed away yesterday. Until then, I wasn’t wanted for anything. I grew up in that village – I know them well enough. They may not always be friendly, but I certainly did not feel unsafe. The crusaders should have been in Hemlin, what, a week ago? If I had any suspicion that they would have been after me…I would have left much sooner”

Sian narrowed her eyebrows. She slowly turned her horse, nudging her onwards to Kalder. After a moment of silence she sat straighter. She didn’t look back at me.

“Whatever your story, I’ll give you some advice that was given to me. They never make mistakes. If they want you alive, you better damn well try to figure out why. So far, you’ve escaped from them twice. If you don’t work out what they want from you, and quickly, well, we might well be walking into that fire of yours.” My stomach sunk. What would they want with me?

“We can break away from the main roads and head through the countryside.  I’m headed north, and you are welcome to come with me….tis a lonely road to travel alone. There are boats on the northern shores. Rumour has it that you can work in exchange for passage across the sea.”

“I haven’t had time to consider where to go.” I admitted. Could I go to Jaser, if they wanted me that badly? Would he turn me in? Did he know what they wanted me for?

She hmphed in response, but said nothing else for quite some time. I pondered my choices as our horses trotted onwards. Eventually my eyelids began to droop, my back and hips aching from the constant ride in the saddle. I kept blinking rapidly to keep me awake. Sian stood straight as a solider, her hands still gracefully poised at the reign. There was still something more to her story that she hadn’t told me, street wise or not.

“I need to know” She suddenly declared. “How good you are with that sword you’re carrying around.”

“Excuse me?” I snapped my head to her. “Good enough.” I looked ahead – there was nothing of mention ahead. No sign of bandits.

“And the bow?”

I hunted for food before, it was one way to keep food in our bellies in Varshore. Moving targets, however.

“Depends. Is my target moving? I can hunt with it….I’ve never had formal training with a bow.” She didn’t seem pleased, her mouth drawing in a thin line.

“Have you ever killed a man?”

“What’s with the questions?” I asked. “Have I not answered enough in one night?”

“Pass me your bow.” She suggested. “I’m unarmed. At least, if you’re not competent with it, if we are sprung by bandits – at least we looked armed from a distance.”

“Says the one who has pockets full of coin.” I muttered – and regretted it the moment her horse skidded to a stop.

“Fine! Take it, I’m indebted to you, must I forget! I just want to get to Kalder in one piece.” She glared at me again.

“I see lack of sleep does nothing for your social skills.” She laughed then as I passed her the quiver and bow, clearly not too offended. I watched her then – she gave it a once over and made short work of slinging it over her shoulder and tightening the belt. I remembered back to when I was first given a quiver – I had no idea what belt went where. I spent a good week with it before it truly felt comfortable. Sian sat straight upon her horse, gracefully clutching the reigns while the bow looked like it had been on her back half her life. I kept Maia behind her for some time. If she wanted to play games, well – I’d let her think she was winning for now.

 

**

Sian was insistent to ride around Kalder, for now. Better not ride on in, drawing attention to ourselves. I saw her point, and we made a small camp not far from the tree line east of Kalder. I had very little energy to argue with her and even less sleep to want to. Eventually, she flopped down into the grass.

 “I’d like to think I took more than coins” She stifled a yawn. “I could do with a full belly and a decent nap before we get supplies.” Reality dawned – I had brought food from Varshore. I pulled through my pack, tearing off a chunk of bread and cheese with my hands, passing them over.

“You’re welcome.” I smiled. Her eyes lit up then, and all sign of restraint she had shown on the ride over was gone. Like a hungry animal she grinned and took a huge bite.

“I didn’t eat before we left. I am so hungry!” She scoffed the food down quickly, washing it down with a gulp of water from her water skin. I stared at the half I was left holding. Maria baked the fresh breads in Varshore. Would she have been persuaded to submit me to death? Jones, a thin old man owned the goats he milked to make the cheese. Surely, after trading him fresh meat over the years for his cheese – he wouldn’t want me dead.

“If you’re not hungry, I still am.” Sian broke though. “What’s wrong with yours? Does it have a face?” She joked. She nestled into the long grass. “If I were you, I’d get a couple of hours rest before we go in. Kalder is a pretty intense place to be. It isn’t hard to lose coin if you don’t keep your wits about you.”

“I know. I’ve been there before.” I sat down, nibbling at the bread. I got halfway through before passing it back over to Sian.  “It’s just hard eating something made from people who probably would have wanted you dead.”

Sian polished it off without complaint.

“Trust me, Cadeyn. It gets easier with time.” I lay back into the grass, watching Maia graze on the fresh grass until sleep claimed me.

 

8: Kalder

We chose to leave the horses at our camp, and at Sian’s insistence, we changed into two of her dresses. I upbraided my hair and I fluffed it behind me.

“You look like a good old housewife now” She smirked. “Better to fit in while you’re under their nose.” She reached over and fluffed my hair behind me. It frizzed out uncontrollably. Perhaps I would be best to cut it. It’s not like I was unused to short hair – I only started growing my hair once my secret was out. It’s comforting, in a way, to wear my hair like my mother wore hers for all I could remember. We walked into the town without any trouble. I had a small knife tucked into my boot, but Sian was adamant that housewives do not carry swords and bows. Better not go looking for trouble she reminded me. Still, I felt naked. I still wasn’t sure if I could trust Sian wholly – I’m sure I had part of her story, but the finer details were lacking.

The town looked the same, if not busier, than when I last visited several summers ago. Jaser and I had explicit orders, and coin, from Kemp to take our swords to the blacksmith for repair. He said he was expecting a parcel from his wife, Miriam. I still do not know what had been in that parcel. Kemp had not reacted well to the contents – choosing to throw it in the fireplace the same night we delivered it back. His mood remained quite foul for the next week or so. Regardless, it had been a nice ride in mid spring and we had been in no rush to make the journey. I felt a pang of wistfulness – if only one could go back in time, even just for a short time. A child ran in front of us, chasing after a dog that was running into the market. I jumped. The sudden movement set my heart pounding. Not for me. Sian frowned, but said nothing. I drew my hood up again in reassurance, telling myself the cool air was a good reason to have my hood up and keep myself warm.

“Stop that” Sian nudged me. “You’ll look like a criminal.” She ripped the hood back and fluffed my hair over my shoulders. “Do you see anyone else wearing a hood?” She hissed. She was right – the only housewives looked too busy to be cold.

“Sorry.” I murmured. “It’s not every day that…”

She nudged me in the ribs. Her voice turned musical and flowery then.

“Sarah.” She laughed. “Don’t be so silly.”   I chose not to respond to that. I looked down at my dress again, making sure it looked right. It was torn at the hem. Every few steps, my foot caught in the rip and I stumbled. Sian was breathing a little heavier now. I looked around. No-one was paying us any special attention. They would when we reached the market – I remember being there last. There were many hungry bellies to feed in the town, and certainly they wanted to fill it with my coin.

“YOU THERE!” I jumped out of my skin. Spinning around, a guard was pointing his sword out. Just not at me. A young boy dropped the apple he was holding and took off into the market. The guard made chase into the crowd. I watched him for a moment, dodging stalls and people before vanishing down a side alley.

“Look.” She sighed. “Just…why don’t you just wait here.” She pointed over to the temple. I glanced at it – it seemed bigger than last time I was there. A huge monument stood outside, a statue of the good Shalenti looking towards the heavens. She leaned in then, whispering directly into my ears. “I don’t know what’s got you so skittish, but you’ll get us noticed. You look like a mouse cornered by the cat. Since witches don’t tend to live at church, go, pray, and I’ll meet you back with enough food to get us further north. Better to hide under their nose, I say.” I hesitated for a moment. She was right. I was sure I looked guilty of something. I glanced down at her coin purse and she frowned at me again. She wasn’t letting this one go.

“Into the Temple.” She insisted. “Now!”

“Just don’t be long.” I eventually muttered. “The less time I spend this far south, the happier I’ll be.” I pulled at the hem of my skirt which, I was sure was intended to trip me, and climbed the stairs into the temple. It wasn’t as ornate as Varshore – no gargoyles, no carvings, but it was larger as if they had spent more time preparing for a large mass of bodies to sit in prayer, rather than for a small village who dreamt of opulence.

Inside, a single brown carpet rolled down over isles upon isles of wooden pews. There was a large stage, perhaps like one in theatres I had heard Mother describe in great detail when I was younger.  In the centre of the stage, however, was another statue of Shalenti. This time she was bending down, on one knee, looking toward the ground. There was a stone tear at her eye. I walked closer to her, keeping my sweaty hands firmly pushed into my thighs as visitor upon visitor kissed her tear, her head, her hands. I joined others, sitting in the front pew, hands clasped in silent prayer. I mimicked their pose, quietly watching the occasional visitor to the statue from the corner of my eye.

“I pray the birth goes well.” One young pregnant woman asked for.

“I pray my father makes it back from the Crusade soon.” A young boy prayed. He hesitated for a moment. “and I pray he brings me back a real sword!” I tried not to laugh at his mother’s horrified glance.

“I pray for my family’s health.” An older woman prayed.

“I pray for a good harvest.” An unremarkable man prayed.

“I pray to you for forgiveness, holy one.” A woman begged. She was old, perhaps how old my mother would have been, should father stayed his blade. “I did not mean to….I did not mean to.” She sobbed hysterically now, touching the statue – her arms, hands, face. “I didn’t want that to happen, not to the little ones, not to my little one. Please fix it. Please make it right” She begged. She rocked. I wanted to go up to her, but the words – and what to say, escaped me. My heart sunk. Whatever she had lost – perhaps a child, seemed to be breaking her.

After a moment, a priestess rose and led her away – into one of the side rooms.  The woman seemed grateful, and I felt better for not approaching her. At least the priestess appeared to have some heart.  I watched her leave before turning to the newcomer to the statue.

This time, a man approached, in his older years with thin greying hair. He took the statue by the hand, kissed it, stood and left. He had said nothing. The woman reappeared at the door with the priestess after some time. She was clutching something with both hands.

“Thank you, your holiness.” She almost shouted. She looked ecstatic. What had the priestess given her? Her face looked alight with joy as she rushed out of the temple, clutching a bottle like her life depended on it. What was that? I watched her leave. Perhaps Sian would have a better idea what the priestess gave the woman.

 

 I turned my attention to the next man came up to pray. He dragged one foot behind him, as if perhaps his ankle or foot had been once broken. I could only see the back of him as he kneeled down.  He looked familiar. I held my breath for a moment. I tensed, frozen to the spot. I felt something uncomfortable turn in my belly.

“Shalenti…Shalenti” He breathed. “Oh pure goddess Shalenti, please…” He sobbed then, hysterically. Kissing the statue, rubbing her hands like he was trying to warm them. “Please, please, please do not turn me away. You are pure, noble. Come to me again, come speak with me, tell me what I must do. Send me your messenger!” Every word felt like ice. Father. The man who killed my mother. Marcus. Him. Automatically, my hands slid from their pose to grab my sword. Nothing. Sian had insisted to leave it hidden. I still had a knife covered in my boot. I reached down, hopefully covertly slipping the knife up my sleeve. I had to see his face. I had to see it one last time. Did I have it in me for revenge? Then again, this was neither the time nor place. Perhaps I could follow him wherever home was to him now. I narrowed my eyes at him. Was he repenting for Mother? The priestess let out a long, obvious and drawn out sigh.

“Marcus.” She said slowly. “You have already had your ration, this morning. Perhaps you should take a long walk, or you could sit with the others and meditate. Perhaps our great Shalenti will come to you in prayer today.” She smiled at him, standing. “I’m afraid I cannot give you more than any other who prays here.” She turned, walking calmly to her small room. “Now I am afraid I must retire for tea.”

He let out a sob. Still, he did not relent. This time, his sobs grew louder. The devout kneeling next to me did not waver – they did not even seem to notice him. Was this a regular occurrence?

“Shalenti, come to me, Shalenti.” He begged.  I stood then, attracting his attention. His eyes flew to me like a hungry child. Did he think I was a priestess, going to offer him whatever they had offered the woman? He clearly had been given something similar in the past. He stumbled then, standing up.

“Cadeyn.” He blurted. Then he turned and looked directly behind me. “Oh, my, beautiful, beautiful little girl.” I froze. His beautiful girl? Something wasn’t right. Sian placed a hand on my shoulder, her timing better than I could have imagined.

“We should go.” She murmured. “Now.”  If she thought Martin’s relationship with the stable boy was complicated, she didn’t even have a clue how complicated this relationship was.

“I have to see this through. Our parting terms left much to be desired.” I muttered back at her.  That was an understatement.   “Hello, Father.” I managed. He moved from the statue, dragging his foot as he half dragged himself towards me. I tightened my grip on the handle of the knife up my sleeve. If Sian was surprised, she didn’t look it. Her face still looked as smooth as silk.

“My friend and I were just leaving.” She spoke softly. “I do hope you are having a good day.” It was that sweet voice now she had used back in the tavern and outside as we had been walking to the market. Sickly. I broke my eyes off her and stared him in the face. We were still in the middle of the temple. Like in a trance – there was no one who paid any attention.

“I have to make this right.” I spat at Sian. “You have no idea what lies between us.”  Sian groaned, pushing dark strand of her hair behind her. She calmly looked around, but made no further move to leave the temple.  I stared at him.

“Oh Cadeyn.” He fell to his knees then before us. “My boisterous, little Cadeyn. You’ve grown up! Into a woman.”  I still felt frozen to the spot. His eyes moved then – separately like he had sustained a bad crack to the head. “Pretty little boy you were.” He sighed. His eyes looked glazed and bloodshot. He had thick stubble across his jaw – perhaps a few days old. He was thinner than I remembered. I remembered him being thin….but he had mass. He had muscle. Now, he was gangly and disproportionate. He smiled at me wistfully then, flashing a set of dark, tunnel shaped teeth. I didn’t remember them ever looking that bad.  Perhaps yellow. Once, one of our neighbours pulled a tooth that was causing him bad pain. But black? No…not black. He coughed then, a hacking, deep set cough that I remembered from one place only – the tavern in Varshore.

“You are a rotten, vile, man.” I spat at him. “Go on, I dare you.” I hissed. “Speak to me like you spoke to Mother. Speak to me like you spoke to me in the past, every day of our lives together. Just because we are in this temple does not change who we are.”

“I beg for forgiveness, Cadeyn, my daughter.” He half groaned. “I come here every day, I beg, I plead. She still doesn’t come. She doesn’t cleanse me. She blames me for my sins. She won’t cleanse her murder.”  He moaned. He bent his head, his forehead pressing against my boot until I backed further way.  “She’s not going to come. She’s not going to come. She’s not going to come.”  He repeated. I swallowed. Of all the things I had once imagined, if I saw him again – this was not it. Something was terribly wrong.

“He’s high as you get, Cadeyn” Sian whispered. “If you wanted answers from this man, you won’t get them from him, not any more. Look at his eyes. He can’t even see you straight. I’m surprised he recognised who you were.”

“From what?” I asked. Sian lifted a brow.

 “Not the time, not the place. If you want to know so badly, accept that whoever he was before – he’ll now forever be reduced to this. Whomever you feared he was, this is now what he will be until it kills him. There is no need to make a scene.”

I stood there for a moment. Father kissed the ground, making some attempt at sobbing loudly at my feet. I backed away again – but he simply shuffled closer. I tightened the grip on my knife. Sian moved closer, looping my arm through hers. Perhaps she realised what I was holding. Maybe my attempt at drawing it into my sleeve wasn’t as covert as I thought.

“I can never forgive you for what you’ve done, Father.” I whispered. “Nothing, you ever can do, will replace the hole you left.” I said it quietly so others couldn’t hear, although perhaps Sian picked it up. I stared at him for a moment, his head slowly rising up. I gripped the knife tighter.

 I wanted him to know how she felt. I used to imagine him to bleed out like she did. When I was losing a spar with Jaser, sometimes, on the bad days, I imagined Jaser was someone else. Somehow, watching him grovel killed that enthusiasm. In a way…I felt sorry for him. I felt my stomach twist. How do you feel sorry for the man who killed your mother? I pulled a face as he looked me in the eye. I wanted to feel anger. I wanted to kick him. But why wouldn’t my conscious allow it? Where was the anger I had spent the last years drawing on?

“I am not your Father, Cadeyn.” He said it cool, calmly.  “You were born several months after we wed. You are not mine.” I froze as Sian laughed nervously.

“You heard the man, now let’s go….” She said sickly sweet. For my benefit, under her breath she murmured “…before two and two make four, and you get us both in deep.” She whispered, now tugging at my arm.

“Then who is my father?”  I demanded. “Tell me now, or I will spill your guts on this floor.” I threatened, regardless of how reluctant I was to act on that. He heard me clear enough – his eyes looked wide in shock.  My gut churned. Kemp had done everything for my mother. He had taken me in. Just like the innkeeper took in the stable boy. Which would mean…if….Jaser would be my half brother. Oh by the gods.  My free hand came to my mouth, bile rising. Surely not. Surely that wouldn’t be. I felt sick. Did I fall in love with my own brother? Kemp should have stopped us. Did he know?

“I don’t know.” He admitted. “I never knew. Came to Varshore pregnant and got fatter every day. Oh, the gods.” He wailed now. “Oh Shalenti! Oh Shalenti” He cried. I relaxed. If she came to Varshore pregnant, then surely I couldn’t belong to Kemp.

“You must know more than that” I hissed. “You married her!” 

“Only married her because she offered me gold. Gold trinkets.” He hung his head then. “Oh, beautiful wife, why did she have to be so cold?  Cold gold. She was cold, gold. She was beautiful, Cadeyn, beautiful wife, but she didn’t like the light. Never wanted to purify herself in the light. She told me to do it.  The light told me to do it. She had to go for the light to prevail. Forgive me Cadeyn, forgive me.” I backed away then. His eyes were all over the place now, his hands continuing to try to grab my hem. I kept stepping backwards – we were making our way backwards to the isle. Several people I hadn’t noticed had come to pray and were going around the pews to avoid us.

“I can never forgive you.” I repeated. “What you did was unforgiveable.”

“She should have left when I warned her.” He rocked then, finally landing a kiss on my boot as I shoved him back. “I told her to leave. I knew she was hiding from someone. Had to go, had to go. She didn’t go. Had to go. Had to go to Rauos. Didn’t go.”

“You are insane. You make no sense.” I declared. I let Sian pull me then.

“Goodbye my daughter” he called out, further confirming my suspicion. He had drunk himself into insanity, probably coupled with guilt. Even if I did kill him, it would have given me no relief. A jail cell and a trial that would perhaps implicate Sian. I realised then, I had expecting him not to be remorseful. He was much easier to hate in my mind when he wasn’t remorseful. Every image I had formed of him, was one of someone who hadn’t been wanting forgiveness. But this…I didn’t know what this was.

Sian nearly broke into a run as we left the temple, dragging me and my knife all the way back to our makeshift camp.  I barely noticed the houses turn back into grasslands. I just stumbled along, my boots catching on the long hem of her dress I wore.

“I’m tired, Cadeyn.” She finally spat. “I’m tired, I’m dirty, I’m hungry and we were supposed to rest here. Now, thanks to you pulling that stunt in Kalder, we have to go. You may as well have stabbed him with that knife in your hand. Don’t think I didn’t see it.”

I looked at her for a moment. She did look tired. She didn’t look as young as she did in the tavern anymore. Her shoulders were not pulled as taught, the evidence of small crinkles around the sides of her eyes. She looked wary.

“I’m sorry. He…” I forced it out in one quick breath. “He was my father, so I thought. He murdered my mother.” Sian winced and cursed under her breath.

“I’m sorry. If I knew. Look I know..” She trailed off. “I…let’s just go. The sooner we go, the sooner we can rest ourselves and our horses properly.”

She packed up quickly. She stripped off – paying me no attention as she changed back into riding clothes. I felt heat reach my cheeks as I changed, clutching my clothes tighter to me as I dressed. She flashed me a funny look but said nothing.

Eventually, I mounted Maia and we were off. She looked behind us. There was no-one following us. She let out a huge sigh of what I could only imagine as being relief. We were silent for the first few while.

“It’s the clarity.” She offered. “I said I’d tell you about it. They started giving it to the ones who kept committing offences. Some herbal medicine meant to help you cleanse your spirit. Some reckon you see visions – it drops the veil so Shalenti can come and purify you herself.” 

“I’ve never heard of it.” I admitted. “Nothing of the sort was ever at the Church in Varshore.” Did Omar know about it? If Kalder had it, was it only because of their crime problem? Then again, I didn’t attend church enough. Perhaps it was mentioned before and I simply was not privy to those conversations.

“It’s a punishment worse than death. It nearly always leads onto lung rot. Essentially, it causes you to start craving another. The doses are rationed out by the temples. Churches, or at least the priests at the churches are not considered holy enough to dose it out, so they send the worst offenders to the temples. It’s said, to stop taking Clarity, well, stop taking it quick enough and you won’t last the week.”

“Why? What happens?” I asked.

“You go mad. Most people fall on their own swords. Nothing seems to help and trust me, I’ve seen people try. Take it enough, you’re hooked – end of the road.” She looked me in the eye as she mounted her mare.  “You know what that means for you, don’t you?” She asked.

“What?” I asked.

“If they catch you…if they find you. Use that little knife of yours wisely. She made an abrupt slashing moment over her own neck then and turned ahead, trotting her horse further forward. I swallowed.

“Get force fed enough, and you are at their mercy.” She smirked. “A puppet, unable to stray more than a day or so away from a temple. Don’t do what they say, you don’t get your ration.  Then, as they say, Aemiel will strike you down, and she only needs your mind as her weapon.”

I was silent then. Would that be a fate worse than death? How long has my father been addicted, even if he was not my father? I was quickly coming to too many questions that were unanswered.  Sian wasn’t who I expected her to be – so who was she? My father may not be my father. Kemp, who might have known something, was dead – and Jaser didn’t know his father had died.  Did Jaser know who my father was? Where was Jaser? Had he made it to Shonsta already?  Right at this moment, I had Casteri at my fingertips. Should I do what my mother supposedly did – move to a town or village, marry and settle down? Minus the child. Decisions, decisions. I tightened my grip on the reigns.

Sian looked tireder the longer we travelled. Still, she refused my offers to stop and set up camp.

“As long as the horses can trot.” She insisted. “We ride. We don’t stop until they do.” She didn’t invite any further attention. I felt slightly hopeless. When I was a child, Mother made all the calls. Then it was Kemp. Or Jaser. Then it was Nuwa, leading me out of danger – wherever she was now. Should I not be calling my own shots? Should I not be taking charge of the situation I was in. I was being too complacent to let others lead me. Sian was headed north, that was clear enough. Fabled sandy beaches and beautiful, warm, clear blue sea. Sounded tranquil.

If I took charge, where would I go? Would I end my promise of wedding vows? In the same breath to tell him he has lost his father? Could I deal two blows, and then walk away? I steeled myself, reminding myself of the pang of hurt when Sian suggested he was bedding the priestess. Reminding myself of his behaviour before he left Varshore. I rubbed my jaw. None of the above was acceptable.

I glanced at Sian. Her shoulders were slumped. I was surprised she wasn’t going to fall off her horse.  Ultimately, Sian was heading north – if she wanted true north, and was heading to the northern coast, she had no choice but to pass through Shonsta, unless she plans of months of tracking through mountain passes.

I made my mind up there and then. I needed to take charge. I would let her think I would follow her north. Perhaps I would, eventually. I couldn’t help but give a little smile to myself. She didn’t need to know about Jaser. That would be my secret.

I needed to keep control over my own destiny. I looked over at her again. She closed her eyes for a long minute before forcing herself to straighten out. I needed to take control.

“Sian.” I called out to her. I put more decisiveness behind my voice. “Stop your horse.” I slowed Maia down. “We have travelled enough. We will find a place to camp.” I saw her about to protest. “Unless, of course, you want to stress our mares to the point we are going to walk north by foot.” She slowed to match me, letting out a yawn.

“Fine.” She muttered. “It’s your head they want anyway.” She pulled her mare to a stop. “I’m sure we can camp here.”

A small victory for myself then! That was easier than expected.