Heir of Amber and Fire

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Heir of Amber and Fire Page 4

by Rachanee Lumayno


  “Let me get you some food to take with you,” Rufan said. He picked up my forgotten bag, then moved to the larder and began pulling some items out.

  I turned to Taryn and said quietly, “Perhaps, while I’m in ‘solitude,’ you could sneak my meals out here to your brother. I’d hate to see all that food go to waste.”

  Taryn smiled, watching as her brother generously filled my bag to his satisfaction. “That’s a fine idea, Your... Allayne. And if my brother and his family don’t want it, there are plenty of people here who could use the extra food.”

  Rufan brought my bag back and handed it to me. It was considerably heavier than when I had brought it downstairs.

  “Thank you,” I said.

  He nodded at me. “Safe travels.” He then turned to his sister, holding out a shiny new hair ribbon in pale blue. “I nearly forgot, Taryn. A gift from Patrice and me. She pointed it out to me this morning lying on our dresser, reminding me to give it to you; I’d never hear the end of it if I forgot after her reminder.”

  Taryn laughed and took the ribbon with obvious delight. Immediately tying her hair back with it, she said, “Thank you, I love it. Blue is my favorite color.”

  The three of us exited the house. I hefted the knapsack onto my shoulders and shaded my eyes, scanning my route. I was to go through the town and follow the road into the countryside, which would eventually take me to Orchwell. Taryn was to go back the way we had come, back to the castle.

  “How will I contact you to find out how things are back in Calia?” I asked Taryn. “It’s not like I can send you letters from where I am. I don’t even know where I’m ultimately going.”

  “Did you not learn anything over the last year?” Taryn teased me. “Use a calling spell, and you’ll be able to connect with me.”

  “I don’t know how good I’ll be,” I said ruefully. “I only started learning that spell one month ago.”

  “So practice,” she said. “I tucked your spell book in your bag.”

  I smiled. Of course she had. Taryn always knew what I needed before I knew it myself.

  She stepped toward me, then stopped, hesitating. I crossed the two extra steps and enfolded her in a hug. “Taryn, thank you,” I said to her. “For everything.”

  “Be well, Princess,” she said, forgetting to drop my title. “Come back to us soon.”

  I gazed down the road to Orchwell again, then the road that would have taken me back home to the castle. I looked back at Taryn. “Take care of my mother.”

  Chapter Eight

  SETTING OFF SOUTHWARD, I could feel the eyes of Taryn and Rufan on me as I walked away. I hadn’t made it very far when someone screamed. All of sudden the sleepy morning was punctuated by more yells and shouts as people ran toward the distraught and horrified woman, who was pointing down an alleyway just a few feet away from Rufan’s house.

  Someone grabbed my arm. I nearly screamed myself, biting it back at the last minute when I saw Taryn at my elbow. Rufan was right behind her. “What’s going on?” I asked them.

  “I don’t know, but let’s find out,” Taryn said. The three of us hurried toward the growing crowd at the alley entrance.

  Rufan approached a man at the back of the crowd, who was craning his neck to watch the events unfolding. “Jarrod! What’s happened?”

  The man turned around when he heard his name. Seeing Rufan, he clapped him on the shoulder, greeting him and pulling him closer at the same time. “When Mistress Karna went out this morning to throw away the scraps for the dogs, she found someone lying in the alley.”

  “Another one?” Rufan asked. I was briefly confused about Rufan’s comment, until I recalled what Taryn had told me the other day about the palace kitchen maid, Sava, and how Sava’s brother had been found near Rufan’s house.

  “Yes. But this... this one’s not crazy. This one is dead.” Jarrod shuddered, looking sick. Rufan and Taryn had similar looks on their faces.

  “Was it...” I couldn’t even bring myself to finish. A murder? But, to my knowledge, Calia rarely had problems with violent crimes. Of course, people argued, and not everyone got along with one another. But, as a largely magical society, most people didn’t resort to physical or even magical violence to solve issues. We were the intellectual lot of the Gifted Lands — or, the know-it-all snobs, if other kingdoms were feeling uncharitable in their description — more likely to take someone to trial to win an argument instead of punch them. And there were harsh laws in place to prevent violence against those who didn’t have magic. I hadn’t heard of a murder happening in Calia at all in my lifetime, and possibly longer than that.

  Noticing Taryn and me for the first time, Jarrod nodded his head at each of us, touching the brim of his hat in a gesture of respect. He frowned at me, as if trying to figure out where he had seen me before. I stiffened and ducked my head slightly, stepping behind Taryn a bit so she would draw his focus.

  “It’s hard to say,” he said. “From what I’ve heard, there’s not a mark on her, but her face was frozen with her eyes wide open, looking like she had seen something awful.”

  “Her? It was a woman?” Taryn asked.

  “Yes, miss. Can’t be much older than either of you,” he said sadly.

  “First Sava’s brother, now this woman,” Rufan said. “And wasn’t there that weirdness with Cantin two weeks ago?”

  “Yes, but Cantin’s mind was already getting a bit unhinged as he’s gotten older,” Jerrod said.

  Taryn and I stepped back from the crowd as Rufan continued to ask Jerrod more questions. Taryn’s eyes were frantic as she gave me another fierce hug. “There’s something strange going on,” she said. “I don’t like it.”

  “I’ll be careful,” I promised her. “I’m more worried about you back here.”

  “Contact me as much as you can,” Taryn said. “I’ll feel better if we’re able to talk often.”

  I agreed, and set off again. I was eager to put as much distance as possible between myself and the strange goings-on in the town, as if running away from the problem would keep it from affecting me.

  SEVERAL HOURS LATER, I was still on the road to Orchwell when I heard hoofbeats on the road behind me. It had been a pretty uneventful day — the only other travelers I had passed were people like me: common folk headed to either Orchwell or Calia.

  But these riders were coming down the road fast. I paused and turned, curious to see who had such urgent business.

  I caught a flash of a silver and blue caparison — the colors of Calia. Remembering my mother’s warning, I looked around for a place to hide. The road was fairly open here. There were no convenient trees or even a rock to hide behind.

  There was, however, a shallow ditch to the side of the road. I dove into it, hoping the Calian riders hadn’t seen me up ahead of them on the road. Dirt covered my clothes and face and I sneezed right as the riders reached my hiding spot.

  The horses stopped. I heard one of the riders dismount. And then, a male voice above me: “Miss, are you all right?”

  Of all the times for them to be chivalrous! While I was glad that the knights of Calia were decent and honorable men, I was also cursing that very quality of theirs right now.

  I slowly sat up, trying to keep my face hidden from the men without being obvious about it. The knight who addressed me was holding out his hand to help me out of the ditch. I took it gingerly and stood, trying to keep my distance. I felt hot and feverish, and I was sure my nervousness was radiating from me like a beacon.

  “Thank you, kind sir,” I said. I pitched my voice lower, hoping to disguise it.

  “Are you hurt, miss?” The man indicated his horse. “We’re headed to Orchwell, and would be happy to escort you somewhere if you need assistance.”

  One of the man’s fellow riders shifted his horse uneasily. “Sir, do we have time...?”

  The man waved him to silence. “There’s always time to help someone.”

  “I’m fine, sir,” I said. “I just tripped and f
ell when you came by. My home is nearby, and I’ll be glad to get back and clean up.”

  The man laughed and remounted. “Of course, miss. Take care, then.” He was about to lead his men away, when he stopped and gave me an appraising look. “You know, you look a bit like Princess Jennica of Calia.”

  My heart stopped. My mind screamed, Please don’t recognize me, please don’t recognize me!

  “She’s about as tall as you,” he continued. “But she has dark hair and dark eyes. Ah, maybe I just think that you look like her because we are on our way to spread the good news: our princess is getting married in one month’s time.” He nodded to me and turned his horse’s head toward Orchwell. “Farewell, miss!”

  The royal riders continued on their way. I touched my face, smiling at the copious amount of dirt that was smeared on my fingers when I pulled them away. Thank goodness I had “tripped” when I did. In my commoner’s clothes, with the dirt of the road all over my face and dress, they didn’t recognize me. But Father — or, I amended, King Hendon; it was actually a relief not to think of him as my father anymore — would be livid if he learned that I was missing. A royal wedding with no bride would be the ultimate insult to all the rulers of the other realms that were sure to be in attendance at the event.

  My hair was sticking to the back of my neck, so I gathered it up and shook it out. I idly ran my dirt-streaked fingers through it, trying to comb some leaves and twigs from it. And then, I stopped, amazed. My normally jet black hair was much, much lighter. It looked as if there were thick streaks of gold in it. A trick of the sunlight? Whatever it was, I was grateful for the optical deception that kept the knights of Calia from recognizing their princess.

  Even though by this time the riders were long gone, I stared down the road after them for some time before I started walking again.

  THE SUN WAS BEGINNING its descent when I realized I should find shelter. Rufan had pointed out places I could possibly stay, but I hadn’t thought to ask how long it would take to reach any of them. I was tired, dusty, and extremely thirsty. Rufan had packed a small waterskin in my pack along with some other food, but I had finished the contents hours ago.

  Just when I thought I couldn’t walk another step, I saw a modest farmstead up the road. I quickened my pace. Before approaching the door, I shook the dust out of my dress as best as I could, and tried to straighten my hair.

  My knock was greeted with a boisterous, “Yes, yes, I’m coming!”

  The door swung open abruptly. A tall, lean man was on the other side. His brown hair and beard were beginning to show signs of gray.

  “Good evening, sir,” I said. “I’m on my way to Orchwell and need a place to stay for the night. I wondered if you had an extra room I might rent?”

  “Who is it, Marchand?” A woman with a baby on her hip came to the door. She was nearly as tall as her husband. A little girl clung to the woman’s skirts, thumb in her small mouth. When I smiled at the little girl, she hid behind her mother, then peeked out from behind her mother’s legs and shyly smiled back at me.

  “It’s a traveler, Asra,” he told her. To me, he said, “What’s your name, girl?”

  “Allayne.”

  “Come on in,” he said. He stepped back to allow me in.

  “Thank you,” I said, a bit surprised. I thought I would have to apply more persuasion, but perhaps they were used to entertaining strangers from the road.

  “We’re happy to help those traveling by,” Asra said, confirming my hunch. “It’s always nice to meet new people. And it’s a great way to get news from the kingdoms.”

  “Today’s been an exciting day though,” Marchand said. “In addition to your visit, riders from Calia passed through earlier.”

  “They passed me on the road earlier today,” I said. “It seems the princess is getting married?”

  “That’s what they said,” Marchand confirmed. “To Prince Anders of Rothschan. The king’s riders are bringing invitations to the royalty and nobles of neighboring kingdoms.”

  “What a celebration it will be! Can you imagine, all those fancies in one place?” Asra said, shaking her head. “I don’t think anyone invited would dare turn down King Hendon’s invitation. And with Prince Anders set to become the next king of Calia, no one would want to anger Rothschan either.”

  “Prince Anders would become king of Calia?” I asked, confused. I had assumed that a marriage to Prince Anders meant I would leave Calia and move to Rothschan to eventually become queen there.

  “Prince Anders is a second son,” Marchand said. “The Crown Prince of Rothschan is in good health and just married a year ago. His wife is expecting a child. The possibility that Prince Anders could inherit the throne of Rothschan is slim.”

  I had vaguely remembered hearing something about this, but as King Hendon didn’t think that politics was something for a princess to learn, I hadn’t really paid attention. I now began to wonder if the king had kept me in the dark deliberately.

  I was also surprised to learn that the king was fine with Prince Anders eventually taking his place. No one lives forever, of course, but Hendon wasn’t the type to happily acquiesce power. By marrying me off to Anders, the king would be somewhat closer to his homeland of Rothschan by alliance, but his power would remain firmly in Calia.

  “A royal wedding will be good for business, I hope,” said Asra. “We’ll have to dip into our stores to supply it, but it will be worth it. Ah, well, enough gossip. I’ll go get your room ready.”

  I gave her a small smile, feeling guilty that my escape might potentially cause them misfortune. Asra, along with the two children, walked down a hallway toward the back of the house.

  I stood at the door awkwardly. Marchand said conversationally, “So you’re headed to Orchwell, eh? You must be coming from Calia, then? I bet the kingdom is busy with preparations for the wedding, yes?”

  “They will be soon,” I said, trying to be truthful without giving too much away. “Since it was just announced, no preparations are truly underway yet.”

  “Are you from Calia? What will you be doing in Orchwell?”

  Luckily, I was spared from answering by Marchand’s daughter. The little girl came bounding down the hall and stopped just a few feet from us. “Momma told me to tell you and the lady that the room is ready,” she said to her father. Her message delivered, she promptly stuck her thumb in her mouth again.

  Marchand laughed and picked up his daughter. She giggled as he swung her around. Balancing the little girl on one side, he pointed with his free hand. “Just go down the hall, second room on the left,” he said.

  “Thank you,” I said, and walked in the direction he pointed.

  Asra was tweaking the coverlet when I walked into the bedroom. It was a simple room, with plain white walls and a brightly colored quilt on the bed.

  “What a beautiful quilt,” I commented.

  Asra turned around, saw me, and beamed proudly. “My mother and I made that together when Marchand and I were engaged. It was weeks of hard work, but spending the time with my mother made it worthwhile. Even if I pricked my finger more than I care to admit. I’m sure there are still bloodstains on the fabric,” she finished, laughing.

  I laughed with her, but my mirth was tinged with sadness. I wondered when I’d be back with my mother, working on a project together or even just drinking tea and talking.

  Asra saw the tightness in my face and thankfully mistook it for something else. “I’m sure you’re tired after your journey,” she said. “There’s a pitcher and bowl on the nightstand to wash up. Do you need anything else?”

  “If it’s not too much trouble, something to eat and drink would be lovely.”

  “Of course. I’ll bring something by in a few minutes.”

  “Thank you.”

  Asra bustled out of the room, shutting the door behind her.

  I surveyed the room and put my pack on a chair in the corner. I rolled my shoulders, glad to get the weight off my back. I crossed to the p
itcher, poured some water into the bowl, and splashed the cool water on my face. I could feel the dust falling off my skin. It was only day one on my own, but I already missed the luxurious heated baths I used to take nightly at the palace.

  There was a light knock on the door. I opened the door to find Asra holding a simple wooden tray with some food and a small glass of water. “We’re lucky to have our own well nearby,” she said as she handed me the tray. “Freshest water for miles. Sleep well, and we’ll see you in the morning.”

  I thanked her and shut the door, putting the tray down next to the pitcher. I bolted down the food and drink, glad no one was around to see me eat so inelegantly. My hunger and thirst abated, I was ready to settle in for the night.

  I opened my pack and rummaged through it, looking for the journal that contained the spells I was learning and other handwritten notes. I found the comb and ribbons Taryn had mentioned, as well as a second dress and a small bag of coins. Opening the bag, I gasped when I saw how much money my mother and Taryn had thoughtfully provided for me. I had been carrying a few coins, enough for tonight’s stay and perhaps a meal somewhere else, but this pouch would definitely take me further. With this money, I would be able to afford a few comfortable nights at an inn and, if I was careful enough, some extra supplies or food.

  My fingers brushed against my mother’s letter, and my fingers briefly tightened around the papers. I was extremely curious, but I was also afraid of what I would read. The room felt too small and dark to learn the truth of my mother’s story.

  Dropping the letter, I instead pulled out a slim leather-bound volume from my bag. I tossed the book onto the bed and took off my dress. Clad only in my shift, I climbed into bed and grabbed the book. There was a small candle burning on a stand next to the bed, but I conjured a light spell so I could read a little better. I hung the light above my bed and settled back into the pillows.

  I flipped through the pages until I found the calling spell Taryn suggested. Reading over the instructions carefully, I prepared to cast the spell. I focused on Taryn in my mind, willing her to sense my summons. Touching my lips with my index and middle finger, I moved my fingers about an inch from my face and blew on the tips.

 

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