The Plan Commences

by Kristen Ashley

  True shared that in our wanderings, we would traverse through a village that had the finest cobbler in all of Wodell, and we would order several pairs while we were there.

  We had not yet been to that village.

  So I now wore sage satin slippers with gold embroidery around the rims and soles of supple but thick suede.

  Even though I’d found the soles proved hearty protection against damp, dirt, twigs and even stones, the slippers were not warm.

  And they were definitely not the footwear to traverse a forest floor.

  True, as was his nature, held strong to my hand and walked slowly beside me with great patience.

  Welbrix and Galbdor did not have the same patience.

  “You should carry her on your back,” Welbrix suggested crabbily to True.

  “I will help you ride the vines, my princess,” Galbdor offered.

  “I would like to learn to ride the vines,” I told Galbdor.

  His faced brightened.

  “You are not swinging from vines,” True growled.

  I liked my True. This was because he was likeable. Kind-hearted. Attentive. Solicitous. Chivalrous.

  But it must be said, I liked he had that part in him—the growly, decisive, manly part.

  It gave me such a lovely shiver every time that came out.

  “Touchy, touchy,” Welbrix muttered.

  I heard the men fall in behind us, signaling the horses had been secured.

  And a little distance later, I jumped when I caught unusual movement out the periphery of my vision.

  Another gnome was swinging vine to vine.

  He alighted on a branch, stared down at us with hands on his hips, his cloak held out at his elbows, before he tipped his head back, cupped a hand around his mouth and shouted, “We have True!”

  There was nothing for several steps.

  And then the entire forest came alive.

  Vines swinging. Branches shaking. Leaves rustling.

  Gnomes approaching from every side.

  And that was when I witnessed what Silence told me I’d see.

  We had been treated with deference by everyone we met throughout our journey so far.

  And outside me thinking that True’s guard was rather small for his personage (yet I never felt concern we were in danger due to the manner in which True interacted with people, and the way they reacted to him) I had not seen this.

  Welbrix and Galbdor might tease their prince and further do so by flirting with his woman.

  But the rest did not, it would seem, even notice I was there.

  By the time two or three had arrived at him, True was swept away from me by gnomes crowding him, touching him, clasping his hands and dragging him, with many more joining them as they went.

  He smiled down at them, greeted many by name, shook hands, and often glanced back at me, only ceasing in doing this when he saw Alfie and Wallace take places at my sides, grips on my hands, and continue to help me across the damp leaves at my feet.

  In fact, I was so fascinated by watching True with his people, the way they greeted him, chattered at him, welcoming him into their place like he was a favored son returning from a long adventure and they missed him, I did not notice we’d entered The Doors.

  But when I did, I stopped short and stared about me in awe.

  The trees here were far stouter and much taller than elsewhere.

  And I knew then that I had not yet encountered the magic that was Wodell.

  This was the magic that was Wodell.

  The sunlight shafted down, seeming diffused, softened, and I did not know how.

  And there were doors.

  Doors everywhere.

  Some seemed hidden, like the mouths of caves, in a tangle of vines.

  Some were majestic, with grand, sweeping steps carved in the expanse of great roots at the base of the trees, guiding you to elegant double doors in the trunk.

  Others had simple stepping stones leading to extraordinary wooden doors shafted with curlicue iron hinges.

  And still others had shallow, hewn-stone steps that time had covered with moss and dusted with packed dirt and leaves that led up to the door in the tree.

  One had a wide, studded wooden door, a lantern at the side, and a window protruding from the tree above it with diamond panes in the glass.

  Indeed, there were many iron lanterns lit against the dim of the forest floor that did not see shafts of sunlight. These were overhanging a web of paths between the trees, but they stood perhaps only four feet high (thus I made note to keep track of them as I walked, for I didn’t want to run into any of them).

  The earth was a tangle of great exposed roots as well as dirt, turf, and fallen autumn leaves.

  And the earth was not flat but held gentle, undulating swells that in the end rose up relatively high so all you could see was the homes built in nature speared with sunlight and dotted with lanterns, cut by earthen paths.

  I took it all in, slowly pivoting to do so, Alfie and Wallace stepping away to give me an unhindered view.

  And when I finished, I whispered, “It’s simply magnificent.”

  I sought True with my eyes, only to find him again smiling at me (as it seemed this was one of True’s most favorite things to do).

  “I’ve never seen anything this beautiful, True,” I told him where he stood some fifteen feet away, thus I had to raise my voice. “And I’ve seen the sun rise over Fire Lake. I thought I’d never see anything as beautiful as that. But this…” I swung my hand out. “Nothing is more wonderful than this.”

  When I stopped speaking, it took some moments to realize there was a hush in the forest.

  And when I realized that, I again became aware that True and I were very much not alone.

  I felt a tug on my skirts and looked down to see Galbdor.

  “You need ale,” he declared.

  And a cheer rang up. It was not great, but it was jolly, and that was when I found myself swept in a sea of gnomes.

  It nearly swept me past True, but he caught me in his arms and held me there, awarding me that beautiful smile on his handsome face, but this time, up close.

  However, something else was there too.

  I felt my breath catch at that something else.

  Right before I felt my belly dip when he bent his head and pressed his lips hard to mine.

  Another cheer rang up, but this one was loud, and True released my lips.

  “I’m pleased you like it, darling,” he whispered.

  Still feeling his lips against mine, smelling the musk of him mixed with forest, a scent that was the perfect combination, and truly the most beautiful thing I’d ever smelled, I could do nothing but gaze up at him.

  But then our clothing was tugged in a way that could not be ignored (sadly).

  Therefore, True let me go but swung an arm around my shoulders, which meant I received the delight of winding mine around his waist, and with an escort of gnomes, he walked us deeper into The Doors.

  “It is hard not to be concerned about it, True,” Baldrick said.

  Baldrick was a gnome I had met earlier, and he was introduced as the Grand Fell, the leader of the gnomes of The Doors.

  He also had white hair, but his face was full of lines, heralding his age. And he had a big belly, something which most of the others, men and women, did not.

  They were diminutive, but they were fit.

  And I’d noted that age did not factor in hair color. There were a few gnomes with brown hair, but most had hair in shades of gray or white.

  We were sitting on a bench made of artfully woven and arched shoots and stems, some of them still having green leaves on them (for the bench grew out of the earth).

  We were also surrounded by gnomes who sat perched on stone slabs set in the soil or on tri-legged stools, cushions or rugs they’d brought out, these set on the roots, leaves and turf.

  True and I had tankards of ale (practically everyone had tankards of ale in their hands, though True had
set his aside on the arm of the bench so he could hold my hand). They were smaller than ones found in the pubs of this land, but they were not that small (gnomes, I’d learned, like their ale).

  I had investigated some of what lay behind The Doors (as much as I could, the doors were small, the ceilings were low, but I’d been invited into a few of the homes). It was quaint, interesting, homey and appealing.

  But nothing rivaled what lay without.

  Now we were settled into one of the only areas that seemed designed for non-gnomes (which meant True’s men were sitting on rugs on the ground with their tankards of ale) and visiting.

  “I did not say you shouldn’t be concerned, Baldrick,” True replied peaceably. “I simply told you not to be too alarmed and asked you to lead your people to that same place. All nations are aware, and all are moving to do something about it.”

  We were talking about the quakes.

  True had not shared that they heralded the return of the Beast, something I knew that all the sovereigns wished to keep quiet for fear of mass panic and what might come of that.

  However, unusually, that seemed to be the only thing True wasn’t sharing.

  “So the quakes come from magic,” Baldrick deduced.

  “We’re assured this is the case by the Great Coven,” True told him.

  At mention of that coven, Baldrick noted, “It is rumored Ophelia is unwell.”

  True had his arm across the back of the bench, but at its end, it was curved around my shoulder.

  I had decided, after that kiss, to rest my hand on his thigh.

  It had, at first, been a mistake for what lay under my hand was hard as steel and thus, far too affecting.

  But at that point, True had set his tankard aside, curled the fingers of his freed hand around mine and held it there, so I did not pull away.

  And at Baldrick’s remark, I twisted mine in order I could curl my fingers around his and give them a squeeze.

  “I do not know,” True evaded.

  “You’ve just been with her,” Baldrick pointed out.

  “You know of Ophelia,” True replied. “If she is, she would not say. And you know of Serena, if you mentioned anything of the like, she’d slit your throat. You also know of Elena, if her mother is ill, she’d be doing something about it.”

  “With Elena bound to Airen, if something happens to Ophelia—” Baldrick began.

  “Much change is happening across Triton, Baldrick. We’ve made peaceful treaties with Firenze and Mar-el that will open great trade for the people of Wodell. And Gallienus feels it’s time for his son to have more responsibility. Cassius has much different sensibilities than his father, and this means good change will be happening in Airen as well.”

  “This is promising news, True. Most especially the alliances forming between Wodell and Firenze,” Baldrick remarked, glancing briefly with an equally brief nod at me before he turned back to True. “But a Nadirii led by Serena would not be welcome to any land.”

  “Ophelia is not blind to her daughter’s flaws, Baldrick.”

  “She is also not old enough to leave this earth, but if she is ill…” He shook his head. “Even a witch as powerful as Ophelia does not have power over all. And she cannot see all, including the future. Anything can befall anyone at any time. The only hope was that Elena would be heralded the successor, but now she is to be Queen of Airen, of all places.”

  “I have a good rapport with Ophelia. The same with Elena. And in truth, I am one of the few who has such with Serena,” True told him.

  “You are not yet ruler of our land, my prince,” Baldrick retorted. “Which brings us to Carrington.”

  I stiffened at mention of King Wilmer’s advisor who did not have Wodell’s best interests at heart, nor his king’s. Indeed, it was unknown what his interests were, except they were not good.

  True squeezed my hand reassuringly.

  “You speak of treaties, but there are whisperings across Wodell of more campaigns,” Baldrick finished.

  “This will not happen,” True told him inflexibly.

  Baldrick’s expression grew kind. “I want to believe you, True, but your peoples have lived under a capricious king for some time.”

  “It will not happen, Baldrick,” True repeated, and this time it was steely.

  Baldrick grew silent.

  I sat silent as well, half concerned about the topic, half marveling at how openly True discussed such matters with his subjects.

  Of course, this was the Grand Fell of the Gnomes of The Doors. But Baldrick’s constituency probably numbered around one hundred and fifty, maybe two hundred gnomes.

  And many of those had gathered around and were listening too.

  But True treated Baldrick, and in turn the others, as if they were equals, deserving of all the information that was safe to share direct from the lips of the crown prince.

  Not only sharing it.

  But discussing it with them.

  “Silence has bewitched the Firenz king,” True said quietly. “He cares for her deeply already and shows it openly. Your future queen will be Firenz. Our ties with Firenze now are unbreakable. Thus, I can assure you, Baldrick, there will be no future campaigns. I would be called on to lead them, and I will not. And as I will not, any other who would be called on to do so in my stead will refuse.”

  “Sedition?” Baldrick asked with surprise.

  “Wisdom,” True answered.

  It took a moment, but Baldrick smiled.

  It faltered when he noted, “Carrington is still a problem.”

  And this was a marvel too, for Baldrick knew much, beyond what he might learn from gossip, proclamations or heralds.

  This meant he either made it his business to know, regardless he resided in a wood at the southern regions of the Great Thicket Forest, or someone, probably True, or agents of True, kept certain personages in the know about matters he thought it important they be apprised of.

  I had the sense it was the latter.

  “This is not unknown to the people who need to know it,” True assured. “That is a fact you can trust, dear friend.”

  Baldrick nodded, seemingly appeased by this cryptic answer.

  I let out the breath I had not realized I was holding and took a sip of my ale.

  The ale was as was everything about this land, earthy and hearty and wonderful.

  There was a low whistle, which made Baldrick turn his head.

  He turned it back to us, his attention lighting on True but a moment before it came to me.

  “It is not our intention to bring to the fore what must be weighing heavy on your heart and mind, but we have taken advantage of this surprise visit, and it would be our deepest privilege if you allowed us to bestow a gift on you, our princess.”

  “I…” I did not know what to say, so I peeked up at True.

  He did not look happy.

  “What would be coming to the fore, Baldrick?” he asked brusquely.

  “It’s a veneration, True,” Baldrick answered.

  True relaxed and looked down on me.

  “You should allow it, sweetling,” he murmured.

  “Allow what?” I asked.

  His arm about me pulled me closer. “Just allow it, Farah.”

  I gazed into his eyes, but I knew I needn’t search.

  True would not let anything harm me.

  I turned to Baldrick. “It would be my privilege to receive your gift, sir.”

  He smiled kindly before nodding to someone else.

  A lady gnome walked up to me, her face also lined, her hair snow white as well, and I remembered we’d been introduced, but her name escaped me.

  I panicked briefly about this rudeness, but this feeling blew away when she raised her hand, and in it, I saw a locket made of filigreed pewter that rounded two small ovals of glass.

  And in the glass seemed a hodgepodge of ash, sand and…

  Dirt.

  “My princess,” she began, “this is a tradition amongst gnome
bands when one is lost. We had not much from your land, nor the time to create a proper veneration, but some of our people had visited one of your beaches and brought back some sand. And we know of the Firenz use of incense, and thus we added some dust from a burnt cone bought from a traveling Firenz merchant. Last, we put in some ground leaves from here, with some dirt, for the daughter of the great mother who birthed our future queen has walked over our earth. So this, we give to you to hold close so—”

  She spoke no more for the sob that tore from my throat stopped her.

  True turned me into his arms.

  I pressed my face into his neck.

  “It was a mistake, True,” Baldrick said hurriedly. “Too soon. We’ll take it away. We’re so very—”

  “No. Nonononono,” I said urgently, and huskily, pulling my face out of True’s neck and turning to them. “No. Please, no.” I reached out to the female who had shrunk back. “I will receive it. With gladness. And carry it with me always, with love for my mother and appreciation to you for this show of such profound kindness to a stranger in your land.”

  With a tremulous smile, the female placed the locket in my palm.

  I closed my fingers around it instantly.

  “We do not have a chain long enough for your neck,” she said quietly.

  “I’ll get her one,” True replied.

  Of course he would.

  I lifted my fist clenched around the cool glass to my chest, my eyes still on the female, tears trailing my cheeks.

  “I will treasure it,” I whispered. “Thank you.”

  She had wet in her eyes too as she nodded and backed away.

  “I hope this is indication,” Baldrick began gently, “of how sorry we were when we heard of your loss, Your Grace.”

  I looked to him and nodded.

  True tucked me closer to his side.

  I pressed my hand harder to my chest.

  “Thank you,” I repeated to Baldrick.

  He smiled a smile of deep compassion.

  “She would have liked you and your people,” I told him.

  “She would have been welcome here,” he replied.