Deadly Fate [Book 1 of the Teadai Prophecies]

by Dana Davis

  “I’m not a bloody child, Haranda. You can’t confine me. I’m beyond marriage age and I have every right to climb trees if I want. Sandworms! You have no bloody right to keep me here.”

  Haranda spun the little treewalker around and slapped her across the mouth. Eletha went down into the sand, stunned for a heartbeat then bolted up, looking as though she would fight back. Before the girl could come for her, Haranda pulled the Energy from the earth and awareness filled her. She sent her thoughts, along with the Energy. Stop. Eletha froze and stared at her, fire in her eyes. Arms at your sides, youngling. You want to stand very still. You will be still. Don’t move. You can’t move.

  The small girl stood rigidly, showing no fear.

  “Why do they always fight?” Haranda mumbled.

  Then she remembered her own arguments with those training her and she smiled. Gypsies wouldn’t be Gypsies without a fight, and younglings needed constant guidance until they could harness the Energy safely, especially when they became irritable. Arrogance, irritability and childishness were youngling traits, as much as squalling was to a babe. No amount of wishing would change that.

  Haranda studied the red leaf just above Eletha’s head. It was faint, as youngling footprints always were, but steady. Which didn’t surprise Haranda, given the girl’s calling and temper.

  She sighed. Don’t move, Eletha. This part was always the hardest but it needed to be done. An errant Gypsy was a dangerous one, and Eletha had a temper to challenge the Goddess herself. Haranda had been sparing with this type of discipline, but Eletha needed this lesson or she would get completely out of control. And no youngling attacked a Gypsy and kept dry eyes.

  Raising her arm, Haranda pushed several blue sparks into her hand. She twisted the sparks, expanding them, stretching them, until they became as large as a blanket and wrapped the treewalker within. The girl screamed out. After a few heartbeats, Haranda released the Energy, and the little treewalker sank to the sand, weeping.

  Haranda gazed down at the girl and forced herself to keep her face serene. She never enjoyed doing that to anyone, especially another kin. But this was her duty as clan mother and teacher. “I told you to obey me, youngling.”

  Teary, blue eyes snapped up. “What did you do? I didn’t even want to run. You used the blood—the urging. Gods, it hurt and I didn’t want to run.”

  Haranda got the fearful look she always did, then it quickly faded to anger and more tears. At least the girl was guarding her tongue. A start. “Get up, youngling. You will obey me one way or another. I would rather have willing cooperation, but I’ll punish you sooner than have you harm yourself or another.” She narrowed eyes on the small girl at her feet. “And if you ever try to attack me again, Gypsy-child Eletha, a sparking blanket will be the least of your worries.” The little treewalker looked so young and very much like a boy in those clothes. But Haranda would have obedience from all her younglings. “I told you to get up.” This one was going to be trouble.

  Rubbing at her face now, Eletha stood with her head down. She began laughing.

  Haranda stared at her. Had the girl gone mad? No, she was too new to the Energy for madness. And Eletha was too strong-willed to break with such a simple Gypsy punishment.

  The reddened face jerked up and those blue eyes widened. “I knew I might like you, Gypsy Haranda Banwidden. My oldest brother, Davoy, always said I needed a good putting down before I could accept a friendship. I never believed him. But I have a new respect for you. Not that I like what you did to me, not in the least.” Her eyes flashed, but only for an instant. “And no one has ever thrashed me without a good chase first.” She grinned.

  Haranda burst into laughter. She couldn’t help it. Blazes! This girl would keep her on her toes. Eletha actually sounded impressed. She put an arm around the treewalker’s thin shoulders. “Thank the Goddess, youngling. I thought for a heartbeat you’d gone mad.”

  “Ha! Not likely. You’d probably have to leave me tied up near a tree without the ability to touch it.” She pulled away, eyes wide. “Actually, that might do it. You wouldn’t—”

  “Of course not, youngling.” Haranda was shocked that she would even suggest such a thing. “I’m not an ogre, Eletha.”

  “I’d certainly like to know how you did that to me. That sparking blanket. I saw everything turn blue around me. Just before the pain.” She looked as though she tasted something sour, then it was gone. “And what’s the urging you use? I want to learn that.”

  “Treewalkers rarely develop aspects that put them in intimate contact with people. Now let’s get back.”

  Eletha wiped her face again and sniffed. “If you don’t mind, I’d rather stay out here a while. I don’t much care for others watching me blubber like an infant.”

  “Actually, I do mind.”

  The treewalker eyed her. “Oh, yes. I guess you would. If the others see tough, mouthy Eletha bawling, then they just might be obedient.” Haranda smiled and raised a brow. Nothing slow-witted about this girl. “I suppose if I refuse, you’ll use that bloody urging. And I can probably look forward to more of your sparking to get the tears going again.”

  Haranda held her laughter, barely. “You know me better than you let on, youngling.”

  “I’ve always had a temper. I doubt I’ll change.”

  Was that a challenge? “Yes. But even those with the foulest tempers can quell them with enough encouragement.” She purposely held a hand out toward the girl.

  Eletha flinched then quickly tried to cover that slip by pressing her lips together. She straightened her back a little too. But Haranda had seen. This one would be trouble but she could be persuaded to obey.

  “Shall we?” She motioned toward the cave.

  Eletha lifted her chin. “I don’t feel like weeping anymore.”

  Was the girl asking for another punishment? “Youngling—”

  “If you want to make an example of me, then you need me sniveling. If Kal and Saldia can put up with obeying you, then I can manage once in a while.” She smirked. “But don’t expect me to run every time you want your boots fetched.” She crossed her thin arms.

  Haranda had difficulty believing what came from the girl’s mouth and she was the one staring now.

  “I’ve never been good at play acting so get this over with. I’ll even take Adelsik’s turn fishing without a protest. I enjoy fishing. I just don’t like being ordered around like some idiot child. Besides, it might be fun to see how those fancy girls react to me following you around like a suckling piglet to its mother.” Her eyes narrowed. “Sandworms! I’m not going to bloody cry just because it’s convenient for you. And I’m not going to bloody stand still, either. Bloody Gypsies!”

  The girl meant what she said. Eletha got exactly two steps before Haranda held her with the urging. Keep very still. Don’t move. This time, she held Eletha in her sparking blanket for a mere heartbeat but she was certain it would be enough the way the girl cried out, and she released the Energy.

  Tears flowed freely down Eletha’s cheeks but she stayed on her feet. “Remind me,” she said through sobs, “to practice my play acting.”

  Haranda shook her head. Goddess, give me strength! “Come along, youngling. Let’s give the others something to think about.” Eletha followed obediently, whimpering the entire way back to the cave. Haranda fought the urge to groan when she saw Adelsik, Maesa and Henny’s eyes widen with disbelief and, if she guessed correctly, a touch of fear.

  Chapter 14

  Maesa decided to relax as she watched Zarenia wash the few dishes they had, wooden bowls, spoons and metal cups. Her first day, she had almost refused to eat from the nasty things, but hunger, as well as Haranda’s threats, prompted a change of mind. She didn’t understand Zarenia. The woman came from noble breeding, perhaps even royalty. Yet she seemed eager to learn everything she possibly could about common life, offering her services to Thad and Saldia during fishing and meals. Maesa suspected, somewhere in the recesses of her mind, the skills
Haranda forced on them might just come in handy in future days.

  Kal stuck a finger through a hole in her breeches and cocked her braid-wrapped head as she sighed. By the patches on the girl’s clothes, they looked as though they had been mended numerous times. Though Maesa knew most people didn’t come from money, that knowledge was becoming an uncomfortable reality for her.

  Occasionally, and at Haranda’s prompting, Zarenia shared stories of her root life, though she seemed uncomfortable telling those tales. The woman had been named Demargina, or Land Sovereign, a respected title in her root home of Pashdad. Her father had acquired his land and workers, mainly peasant farmers, servants and guards, as a gift from the former king of Pashdad after a battle victory. Demgine Zaren had been war advisor to the king, and a good one from Zarenia’s description. A plague had ravaged her home, killing her parents and older brother, and the title of Land Sovereign fell to Zarenia. Along with her father’s debts and worries, Maesa imagined. The woman also lost her betrothed to the plague but she refused to speak any more of him beyond Haranda’s insistence.

  Maesa was born the same season as Zarenia, but the other woman seemed older and wiser and Maesa admired her. She also admired the woman’s temperament. Zarenia Va’pash never raised her voice in anger. In fact, she lowered it when she wanted to say something important, or when she scolded Nym for something, which made everyone around her pay close attention to her words.

  She had revealed other things of her past, things that seemed much more important to Haranda than anyone else. Like the swamp witch, Evin, who trained Zarenia in the Energy. The old woman had lived as a poor peasant, isolated from people. Evin never seemed to go without food or clothing, though. And as far as Zarenia knew, the woman never left the isolation of the swamp. How the witch got wares for daily life, Zarenia never learned. Maesa wondered why Gypsies hadn’t discovered Evin.

  Haranda had certainly swept Maesa away with little difficulty. Her parents had refused at first, until the Gypsy explained just what they could expect from Maesa’s calling. Then, through tears and apologies, they sent their third daughter off with a stranger, and Maesa hadn’t known whether she would ever forgive them. Strangely enough, she didn’t feel attached to her root life as she once had. Living on Mistress Lane’s farm with Haranda for nearly a moon cycle gave her a new perspective into Gypsies and she actually began to look forward to life among them.

  Since the calling, her root family seemed distant, like a childhood memory, and Maesa felt herself drawn more and more to Haranda and the other younglings as the days passed. She studied Kal again. The girl seemed comfortable in her breeches, just as Eletha did. However, Zarenia longed for skirts and had admitted she’d never worn breeches until recently.

  Kal had informed them that no women wore dresses in her village of Nar. The girl claimed one couldn’t fight very well in them and they were bothersome on a horse. Eletha’s village, Agnar, must have been similar to the listener’s home, though the little treewalker never talked about it much, except to quote silly rhymes. Eletha grew up with nine older brothers and Maesa figured that’s why the little woman lacked manners.

  Both carried weapons, and Kal had been spearing the little sand crabs with her knife until Haranda called her down for it. The Gypsy frowned on weapons, or at least, she didn’t approve of younglings carrying them. Besides, men used weapons, not women. Men were the protectors because they were stronger, like Maesa’s father and brother had been. But there were no guards out here, no protectors, except a Gypsy, a woman. Thad had boot knives but he was a farmer and fisherman by trade. Maesa doubted he would survive an attack by a trained warrior or raider. He was a gentle man, someone she would be attracted to had he been born of her station.

  Haranda had forbidden Kal to use her knife unless they needed protection but the listener polished and sharpened the blade daily, while Eletha checked the straps on the slingshot she had also been prohibited to use. Zarenia began to take quite an interest in both women and their weapons. But it was Kal’s tattoo, which caught Maesa’s attention. Women in Parlon of the Cragrilon Prefecture wore jewels and other adornments but no one, male or female, wore tattoos. Of course, Maesa had seen tattooed men and women before, when street actor’s came to entertain at festivities, but they were hired for amusement and would never have been allowed to live in Parlon.

  Thad had his fishing spear in one hand, and she watched as Zarenia stepped to him, probably to offer her services. Before the woman could say anything, Haranda entered the cave with a crying Eletha on her trail. Maesa’s heart raced. What had the Gypsy done? Whatever had happened, she did not intend to experience it for herself.

  “Eletha,” Haranda said, and the small woman brought her reddened face up. “Help Thad fish.”

  Maesa braced for the treewalker’s temper but she simply nodded, took up the other fishing spear, and followed Thad outside. Maesa stared, probably with the same astonished expression as Adelsik and Henny, but caught herself when she saw that Kal and Zarenia kept smooth features. Haranda would be worth watching more closely. The Gypsy might warrant even more respect if she could make Eletha obey without so much as a grumble. And there was something else about her. Something that reminded Maesa of the elder women who gave young girls advice before marriage. The Gypsy seemed wise beyond her years.

  Haranda turned on the cluster of gaping women, visibly startling them. “Who’s cooking tonight?” Saldia and Adelsik raised their hands. “Well?”

  The two got to their feet quicker than Maesa had ever seen and she hid a smile. Haranda turned her back to tend the fire, leaving Henny and Nym to play the boy’s game.

  Kal leaned close to Zarenia and Maesa heard her say, “We should probably look busy.”

  When Zarenia nodded and scooped up blankets, Kal mirrored her. Haranda gave them an approving glance as they left the cave. Maesa decided to follow their lead and she scooped up several sand-infested stockings, dropped them into a small bucket, and headed out. She didn’t look at Haranda but guessed the Gypsy gave her the same favorable look. The sun was low and the sky over the water took on an orange hue. She didn’t stop until she was halfway to the water, not too far from the other women. The two glanced at her and Zarenia waved her over. She hurried to them then dropped her bucket on the sand and began shaking out the stockings.

  “Haranda must be incredibly upset,” Zarenia said between brisk flaps of a blanket. “I didn’t think anyone could make Eletha that pliable.”

  Kal was as tall as Haranda, and Zarenia barely came above the listener’s shoulder, but Maesa had learned size didn’t determine stature or power.

  “I think I’ll keep away from Haranda as much as possible.” Kal cocked her braid-wrapped head. Green eyes stood out against sun-darkened skin and she grinned. “Even if I have to do chores all day.”

  Zarenia smiled. “Excellent idea. Haranda reminds me of my old nurse. Except more dangerous.”

  The listener’s brows went up. “What was your nurse like?” She hung the blanket over her shoulder and took up another.

  “Oh, Nurse—I mean Grenwin—is very insistent.”

  “My nurse wasn’t nearly as tough as Haranda, either,” Maesa said.

  The two studied her and her face heated up, then Kal laughed and Zarenia gave her a reserved smile, one she’d seen from those in the royal procession as a young girl. She shook out another stocking, turning it inside out like she had the others.

  Zarenia let out an audible breath, even over the waves that lapped the beach. “If Grenwin had caught me sneaking out to come here, which she almost did, I would still be confined to my room. I was certain once I reached marriage age, she would treat me differently. That was a wrong assessment.”

  Kal chuckled and looked very young despite her height. “I understand. Haranda can be very intimidating. I would like to know what she did to Eletha but she’s taught me to wall everyone’s thoughts and I don’t dare listen. Besides, Eletha knows how to keep me out now. She would probably y
ell a bloody fit if she caught me prying, and I have no intention of feeling Haranda’s wrath.”

  “Makes two of us.”

  “Three,” Maesa interjected.

  Kal nodded. “You two almost finished?” She scooped up her last blanket.

  Zarenia smiled up at the listener. “Oh, I believe these need another shake. There is a lot of dirt in that cave.”

  “You have a point, Zarenia Va’pash. I wouldn’t be against shaking them out several times. And I believe those stockings still have sand in them.”

  Maesa felt more at ease around these two than she ever had and she grinned. “Why, Kal, I believe you’re correct.”

  The three laughed and took their leisure finishing the chore. After a while, Thad and Eletha came toward them from the fishing spot. The little treewalker showed no signs she’d been weeping. She and Thad were chatting and Maesa caught snippets of conversation. They discussed the best way to prepare the fish they had caught. Eletha seemed to think they tasted best when cooked whole, while Thad liked his gutted and stewed.

  She caught Kal and Zarenia studying the two also and touched Zarenia on the shoulder. “We should probably get back.” Haranda might get suspicious if we walk in after them.” She nodded toward Thad and Eletha. Fishing took longer than shaking dust off blankets and stockings.

  Kal and Zarenia nodded and walked briskly toward the cave with Maesa on their heels. When they entered, the fire was blazing strong outside and Haranda sat stitching up holes in Nym’s tunic. Adelsik and Saldia concentrated on the meal but not without Adelsik’s sour face. The girl loathed Saldia. Maesa couldn’t explain why, but since her calling, she had more compassion for the tavern woman. The two youngest in their entourage tossed stones against the cave wall. Henny seemed to enjoy the game almost as much as Nym, who wore just his breeches right now. Maesa smiled at the two as she passed.

  She had laid out the last stocking when Kal cried out. The listener’s face contorted with pain and she gripped her head. Her body stiffened and she would have fallen if Thad hadn’t arrived and caught her. Kal moaned and tossed her head from side to side. After a moment, she seemed to relax. Green eyes finally opened but her breath was labored. Maesa knelt and fought the urge to caress her. She didn’t want to interfere with Thad.