The Book of Forbidden Wisdom

by Gillian Murray Kendall

  “If Kalo catches you here, he’ll kill you,” I said. I said it first without thinking, but in that moment, I knew it to be true.

  “I know,” said Trey. “Now stand back from the window.”

  The ivy root against the house there was thicker than my arm. When Trey and I had been children, we had climbed it many times. We had played out the tale of the witch and the girl in the tower. And now I was the girl in the tower, and it was all too real.

  In a minute he was in my room, and then, and then I was somehow in his arms.

  If Kalo had walked in then, it would have meant death for both of us.

  I couldn’t have cared less—­not about myself.

  “And you an almost-­married woman,” he said, his voice muffled in my hair.

  Silky moaned in her sleep and turned to her other side.

  I stepped back and out of Trey’s arms.

  “This isn’t right,” I said. “You can’t—­I can’t allow you to—­because—­“ I was incoherent.

  “It’s all right, Angel,” said Trey. “I have no designs on your virtue.”

  “We shouldn’t have touched.” I was scared. I was scared because it had felt far too natural.

  “We used to touch all the time.”

  “We were five years old, Trey.”

  “Anyway,” he said, “we have to go. I drugged the stable boy, and the horses are saddled.”

  I drew back even farther. “What are you talking about?”

  “Do you really think I’d let Kalo contract you against your will?” Then he paused. “Unless you want the ‘Lidan match. You’d be very rich.”

  “Trey—­”

  “I didn’t think that would tempt you. I’m rescuing you, Angel. So try not to raise your voice.”

  And then fear was back. It swept over me. The nameless, incomprehensible fear of the unknown. He wanted me to leave, but I had nowhere to go, nobody to be once I wasn’t in Arcadia. Everything I knew was close to home. I was no coward, but I was no fool, either. I would be giving up everything I had ever loved. Everything I was.

  “You don’t understand, Trey,” I said. “I can’t leave—­all this. Everything I know. I can’t give up me. The Lady Angel.”

  “I will call you ‘Lady Angel’ seventeen times a day, if you’ll only hurry. Your options are limited. Now get some clothes; I have enough supplies for us for three days.”

  “You’re coming?”

  “Of course,” said Trey. “You’d be hopeless on the road alone and prey for any vagabond who—­for any vagabond.”

  “You don’t have to come.”

  He laughed.

  Trey’s House was a small one, and he stood to inherit no more than a negligible piece of land. But even so, by leaving and taking me he was making it so that he could never return. And I, scion of a Great House, able to make a rich marriage, would never be able to return, either.

  Perhaps, I thought wildly, what they said about the ‘Lidans wasn’t true.

  Silky, who was a sound sleeper, murmured something and then turned over again. She must be having a dream.

  And that’s when I knew I really couldn’t go with Trey.

  “I can’t leave Silky,” I told him. “Kalo will blame her. He’ll make her pay in every way he can. He’ll punish her for my actions and for not having land and just for being someone to punish.”

  “Of course you can’t leave Silky,” said Trey. “Three horses are saddled. Your Jasmine. Silky’s pony. My Bran. And while I was busy stealing horses, I took one of Kalo’s pack animals as well.”

  “Trey,” I said, aghast, “they hang ­people for horse stealing.”

  “What about bride stealing? Come on, Angel. We have to put some miles behind us tonight.”

  The scent of the flowers was stifling, and I couldn’t think. But at Trey’s vehemence, Silky rolled over and opened her eyes and lay there, staring at the two of us. She looked from me to Trey.

  “Are we being rescued?” she asked.

  And all I could say was “Yes.”

  Chapter Five

  The Floating Island

  I changed out of my nightclothes. Trey kept his back turned, but I was already shamed. He had seen me in night garb.

  He had held me in night garb.

  He had held me.

  Despite the shame, however, I can’t say that I felt particularly soiled. Not the way the chaperones had all pledged I would if anyone but my husband did so much as touch my hand. Trey had smelled good: of soap and leather and clean air. And he had felt good: strong and comforting.

  I packed some clothes in a satchel. I was not going to risk trying to get to Silky’s room, so she would have to make do with my things. She often wore them anyway.

  Trey stood by the window, waiting.

  We were ready, but before I committed myself to the night, I had one question for Trey.

  “Is there any talk—­” I hesitated. “Is there any talk that Leth might want to marry me after all?”

  “Do you care?” asked Trey.

  I thought for a moment. “I do,” I said finally. “If he defies his parents, the Arbitrator will have to allow the marriage. If he defies his parents, I’ll still marry him. He was only weak. He would never hurt me. I really believe that.”

  Trey smiled, but it was a bitter smile. “ ’He would never hurt me.’ There’s a basis for matrimony. Leth wanted your land, Angel, and more. The Nessons want the knowledge in The Book of Forbidden Wisdom. I imagine Leth’s piqued he didn’t get it for them.”

  “Is that what you want?” I asked, but Trey just laughed.

  Then he said, “Leth’s parents have already licensed the Arbitrator to search for another alliance for him.”

  “He said he’d never marry.”

  “I’m sure that’s what he said,” Trey answered. “I don’t doubt you. But his parents are very strong-­willed.” He wasn’t smiling now. Silky looked from one of us to the other.

  “What about the rescue?” she asked.

  We took almost nothing—­some clothes, blankets. I handed my crossbow to Silky, who didn’t dare go to her room for hers. We all knew she was the better shot.

  Outside the stables, the horses were tethered to a post.

  “All right,” said Trey. “Let’s ride for it.”

  I thought for a moment of what would happen if we were taken now. We would all be dead, but they would make Trey suffer before they killed him.

  At first we stayed off the path and in the shadows; the grass absorbed the sound of horses’ hooves. But once we had moved beyond the shadow of the house, Trey picked up a canter, and Silky and I followed suit, Silky’s pony, Squab, taking two strides for every one of Trey’s great horse, Bran.

  “Angel.” Silky had to raise her voice to be heard. “Angel, look at the house. It’s full of light. Like a lantern.”

  I called ahead to Trey and pulled up Jasmine. We stared at the house. There was light everywhere. I could see my window, and I could see the silhouettes of men crisscrossing the room with flaming torches.

  They were looking for me. I didn’t want to think about why, in the middle of the night, Kalo would send men to seek me in my bedchamber. He must have feared I would bolt.

  It was only a matter of time before they would realize that I wasn’t in the house at all. With Silky gone, Kalo’s suspicions would crystallize. The disappearance of Silky would make him believe what would otherwise be inconceivable: I had run.

  And then, as we watched, a river of torches flowed out of the house.

  “Let’s go,” said Trey urgently. “We have to keep moving.”

  I was suddenly afraid that he had no real plan, but then, beautiful and fully formed, an idea came to me.

  “Our chance is the river,” I said. “If we walk the horses through the shallows, the
y may lose our trail. As it is, we might as well have left ‘we went this way’ signs.”

  “We stayed on the grass,” said Silky.

  “We squashed the grass,” I said. “They’ll make out the prints in the dew easily enough. We go to the river.”

  “That’s what I had in mind,” said Trey shortly.

  Trey urged Bran to a gallop. I stared up at the house one more time, mesmerized. Light was everywhere. Now I could see men holding torches and trying to mount their horses in the front courtyard. Fire and horses didn’t mix, and the mounts were wheeling around in protest and skittering away from the flames. I hoped such stupidity would buy us enough time to reach the river.

  And then a winding silver ribbon was in front of us, and Jasmine went crashing into the slow-­moving water.

  “Downstream,” I said. “In case the horses have to swim for it. The current will carry us.”

  Silky’s Squab had followed Jasmine and now stood fetlock deep in the river shallows. But Bran—­Bran, a bold horse—­ had stopped at the edge.

  Trey groaned. “He only likes water he can jump over—­puddles, streams—­and this does not qualify.”

  “Now might be a good time to show off your horsemanship,” I said.

  “My horsemanship is just fine.”

  Trey urged Bran forward—­finally, reluctantly, using his switch on the sensitive horse. But Bran only backed up; he would not enter the water.

  “Hurry, Trey,” I said.

  “I am hurrying,” he said. I looked over my shoulder. Not so very far away, I could see lights bobbing through the trees.

  I swallowed hard. “You’d better leave Bran and take the packhorse,” I said.

  “Bran’s faster and fitter,” said Trey.

  “It won’t make any difference if you can’t get him into the river,” I snapped.

  The dark water swirled around the horses’ legs. The moon shone down on us, and it occurred to me that, as in the old bardsong about the lovers and the coming storm, the moon didn’t care.

  And I thought ahead to the humiliations and death that probably awaited me. If word got out that I had fled with a man, there would no marriage, ‘Lidan or otherwise. I would be stripped to my petticoat, and, if Kalo went for the full extent of the law, I would be tied to a stake to be either stoned or burned. Kalo’s choice. And my father’s, of course—­technically—­but I was under no illusions about who was making all the decisions now.

  I wondered, too, if Leth would want to come after me. It was one thing for him to back out of our contract, it was another for me to run away from him.

  Trey hit Bran on the flank as hard as he could with his fist. Bran half-­reared but would go no further into the water.

  Then I had an idea.

  It’s not hard to lead a horse. One can lead a horse places it would never take a rider.

  In a moment I was off Jasmine’s back and sloshing in the water toward Trey and Bran.

  “This is cold, and this is wet,” I said to no one in particular. Then I had Bran by the reins.

  He followed me meekly into the water.

  “Looks like you’re doing some rescuing yourself,” said Trey.

  I remounted Jasmine, and we moved deeper into the river, but we were still in the shallows. In the moonlight, I could easily see the swath we had cut on land—­it reached to the river’s edge and then stopped.

  “It’s obvious what we’ve done,” I said.

  “There wasn’t much choice,” said Trey.

  “What are we doing?” asked Silky.

  “Further down there are reed beds and floating islands of wild hassow,” I said. “I’ve been this way before. We’ll be hard to find—­they’ll be searching the other side to see where we came out of the river.”

  “Where are we coming out of the river?” asked Silky. “The packhorse is shivering already. I’m shivering, too. So you know.”

  “It won’t be for a while,” I said. “First thing, we need to get around that bend in the river, or they’ll see us the minute they break through the trees. The moon isn’t helping. And couldn’t you have picked a bay pony, Silky? Your Squab doesn’t exactly blend in.”

  “Squab is perfect,” said Silky.

  “Not now, Silky,” I said, and my voice was grim. “We have to go carefully. They’re almost close enough to hear us.”

  We moved through the water.

  “We could outrun them,” said Silky.

  “On Squab?” Trey said to her. “Your pony’s a pet, Silky; he’s not built for speed.”

  “He’s built exactly right,” said Silky.

  “Quiet,” I said.

  We were very near the bend in the river now. All I could hear was the swish, swish of the horses moving through the shallows. My fear of leaving my home had been replaced by desperation to get away, to escape the land and marriage laws that would seal my life—­or my shameful death.

  The fireflies were gone, and the moon was cold—­everything was bathed in chilly silver light. There was no solace in the night, and still, still the moon didn’t care.

  I was nobody now. No better than a vagabond. I had brought money, yes, but money was nothing when compared to land. I felt this was easier for Trey because he was land-­poor. I had come from a Great House and thought my fall was greater.

  I knew nothing.

  Swish, swish. Rivulets and waves of silver. But no night birds or singing frogs or even the plop of fish rising for insects. The night, except for the sound of horses moving through water, was silent.

  We were at the bend in the river.

  I turned. The torches continued to bob among the trees, but then, just as we were beginning to round the bend, the band of riders broke out of the woods. They gathered together for a moment, as if to confer about their course of action. Luckily they hadn’t seen us yet, but once one of them looked in our direction, our movement would give us away.

  I pulled up Jasmine.

  “Get ahead, Silky,” I said. “Bran will shield that light-­colored Squab of yours. It’s not far now.”

  I could see a knot of riders go down to the riverbank, break up and cast about as if they had lost the trail. We had moments, if we were lucky.

  The riders held their torches high above their heads, and, even at that distance, I could make out some familiar forms. I saw Kalo, tall, broad, grim, suddenly wheel his horse around and whip it to the place where we had entered the water. Close behind him was our land steward, Farnam.

  And at Kalo’s side, his face a mask of darkness, was Leth.

  So.

  It was possible he still harbored hopes I would trade knowledge of The Book of Forbidden Wisdom for a patched-­up marriage with him. But, more likely, he saw my flight as a betrayal and wanted to ruin me. For disloyalty. For disobedience. And, if he found out about Trey’s role in my escape, for harlotry.

  Trey followed my line of sight.

  “I’m sorry, Angel,” he said.

  “It would have been better not to know he was riding with them,” I said.

  “Maybe he’s there to try and make sure they don’t hurt us,” said Silky.

  “I assume you mean before the executions,” I said drily.

  “Angel,” said Trey.

  Trey’s word was neither a reprimand nor an endorsement. It was just my name, that’s all. But when he spoke it, everything fell away: my great lineage, my pride in my House, and my feelings for Leth. I wondered whether there was anything left of me. Then I looked up at Trey’s clear face, and, for some reason, I felt better.

  We rounded the bend at last, at the very moment I heard the sound of Kalo’s party of horses crashing into the river.

  “They’re coming,” I said.

  “Now we ride,” said Trey. “They won’t hear us over their own noise.”

 
“Do we even have a chance?” asked Silky.

  “Of course we have a chance, Lady Silky,” said Trey. I smiled grimly into the dark. Lady Silky. Trey was reassuring her with her title.

  “But where are we going,” she asked, “when we follow the river?”

  “It doesn’t really matter where we go right now,” Trey said to Silky. “As long as we get out of sight.”

  The great moon was low in the sky now, and I could see, spread out in front of us, a long spit of sand on one side and an impenetrable bed of reeds on the other.

  “Go straight down the center,” I said. “The water’s not deep. Don’t leave a print on the sand; don’t get tangled in the reeds. Single file. I used to do this for fun.”

  “Kalo’s group won’t care about leaving prints,” Trey said. “They’ll just gallop through.”

  “They don’t know this river,” I said.

  “You do?” Trey asked.

  “I do. There’s likely to be a floating island beyond the spit and the reeds.”

  “You never showed me that,” said Trey. He looked at me in surprise.

  “It was after I grew up,” I explained.

  “Oh,” he said, and I couldn’t make out his tone.

  The horses scrambled through by the side of the reeds without leaving prints on the spit of land, and then we were galloping. The river opened in front of us; it was a sheet of silver with a large dark mound in the middle.

  “We can get behind that island,” said Trey. “While we’re there, they’ll start trying to pick up our exit trail on the other bank.”

  “Exactly,” I said.

  “That’s what you had in mind all the time, isn’t it?” said Trey.

  “It is.”

  We hid and moved with the island—­it was a floating hassow island, and no more substantial than the famed bottomless marsh of ‘Lidan territory. Meanwhile, a few members of the pursuing party thundered across the spit but then pulled up at the silver lake opening in front of them. I could see through the hassow stems. There were three men in front, and Leth was leading them. I couldn’t see Kalo, and I thought he might have gone upriver.