Warrior of the Dawn

by M. S. Brook

  “Oh, I don’t,” I said quickly. “I don’t blame him at all. Please tell him I’m sorry. I never meant for anything like this to happen.”

  “Of course not. Don’t you go blaming yourself. There’s plenty to go round.” He turned to leave and then faced me again. “I saw a mountain lion attack a bear once. She was protecting her kits. That’s what you reminded me of today.”

  If I hadn’t known better, I’d have thought his tone was admiring. “But he beat me.”

  “He didn’t beat you. Lord Kempton broke it up.”

  I stared at him, dumbfounded.

  “And the way you rode! I didn’t know a woman could ride like that. So fearless! I understand now why your father calls you ‘Princess.’” His face turned a little pink, and he hurried on. “You know, we were all a little jealous when we heard that you were training with a great warrior like Lionel. I’d say that you’ve put your time to good use. Well, I’d best go. I’ll put up Penmar myself. You needn’t worry—he’ll be well cared for.”

  I watched him walk away, wondering if I’d misunderstood his admiring tone. He’d surprised me too with the thought that anyone might be jealous of my training, but it was true, I had Uncle Leo all to myself, while the others were trained in a group.

  I touched the side of my face with my fingertips and winced. My cheek was swollen and sore, and I was sure it didn’t look good. I took a deep breath and went inside. Mama looked up from her weaving.

  “Aidriana! What on earth happened to you?”

  I told her, and she exclaimed all the way through my story. “How dreadful! How could he do such a thing?”

  Though I’d just fought like a cat with Rowland, I found myself in the odd position of defending him. “It was my fault as much as his, Mama.”

  “I’m not excusing you, but whoever heard of taking a cudgel to a young lady? This is exactly why I was against this warrior training from the beginning. Now you lie down and rest while I find Lionel.”

  I had to repeat the story to Papa and Uncle Leo. Papa lifted my chin and examined my swollen cheek. “Mm, that’s quite a bruise. But Rowland’s a big lad. I’d say you came out pretty well. What do you think, Lionel?”

  “I think our warrior will be just fine in a few days.”

  “Is that all you two have to say?” Mama asked. “Because I have a lot more on my mind!”

  “Now, Clare. She’ll be all right. Come sit by the fire and let Lionel take care of her.”

  Uncle Leo pulled out his kit and began treating my cuts and scratches. He rubbed a strong-smelling liniment on my sore shoulder. While he was kneading it in, he said quietly, “Warriors fight for the honor of the king and for each other, never to defend our own pride. One’s own honor never needs to be protected. It is enough to do what is honorable—let others judge it as they will.”

  “That’s hard,” I said.

  “If you didn’t think so, I would be sure you misunderstood me.” He gave my shoulder a final rub and tucked a soft cloth around it to protect my tunic from the liniment. “Honor comes dear. Not everyone is willing to pay the price. But if you will let what you learned today shape your character, it will repay you in gold.”

  I missed evenfest, unwilling to show my face to those who would criticize me. Nieve came afterwards to see me. “I guess word got around,” I said.

  “Arvel told me. He was asking after you.”

  “Arvel?”

  “Yes, Arvel. Haven’t you noticed how his eyes go all starry when he talks to you?”

  I shook my head, and Nieve raised her delicately arched brows. “Aidy, how on earth can you not notice those sweet blue eyes? Isn’t he handsome enough for you?”

  “He’s handsome enough for anyone.” Arvel’s sunny smile came to mind, unbidden. His warrior-like grace, the short, gold-colored beard he now sported. He was tall and lean for a Canwyr, but he still had broad, strong shoulders…like Papa.

  I was suddenly aware that Nieve was watching me and nodding her head. I felt my face grow warm. “Will you never believe me? I have no time for such things.”

  Nieve gave an exaggerated sigh. “You take yourself so seriously. Even warriors find time to fall in love, you know.”

  I rolled my eyes, and her quick laughter rang out. “You’d better watch out! One day your shield might just slip.”

  I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction, but Nieve was right. I had noticed those “sweet blue eyes.”

  Chapter 12

  “Aidy,” Nieve whispered to me as she slipped into the chair next to mine. “Have you heard about the woman from Domaine?” I shook my head, but the schoolmaster was already passing out our slates and chalk. I had to be content with a quick wriggle of her eyebrows and a mouthed, “I’ll tell you later.”

  When our lessons finished, we stayed at our table in the hall, Nieve eagerly going back to her story. “Several days ago, a Guardian patrol found a lone woman not far from the border. She’d been walking all the way from her home in Domaine, and she was ill and hungry. Seems she’s a distant relation of my father, so they brought her here to stay with us.”

  “How strange. What was she doing in Domaine? Did she say?”

  “She’s too worn out to talk for long. Mister Lionel said to let her rest and get her strength back. He attended her last night. But her name is Orabella Stonedale. My grandfather remembers her. She used to live down in Wentworth. She married a Dominian who came here to find work. Grandfather says the man didn’t seem to be happy here, and after a year’s time they went back to his home in Domaine. The family would hear from her now and then when traders passed through, and then the troubles got worse, and they never heard another word.”

  “So why did she come back?”

  “We don’t know. Constable Hill said she would have to be desperate to attempt such a treacherous journey alone. She’s about Mama’s age, not very tall, but she must be very strong. The constable couldn’t see how she made it as far as she did. Her clothes were ragged and hardly enough to keep her warm. And she didn’t have any food left. You’ve never seen anyone so thin and worn—but I couldn’t stop looking at her eyes. She has the eyes of a young, strong woman.”

  “It’s all so mysterious,” I said. “What could have happened to her in Domaine?”

  “Guess we’ll have to wait to find out. I’ll let you know if I hear anything.”

  Walking home to join Mama and Papa for the midday meal, I imagined how it must have felt to make that dangerous journey. Although it was late spring, the nights were still damp and chilly. I couldn’t think what would make a woman travel all that way alone and on foot. Why would she risk it, and where was her family?

  Mama and Papa had heard about it too. “The poor woman,” Mama said. “She must have been so frightened. Anything could have happened to her on the way.”

  “Mm.” Papa had a thoughtful look on his face. He sliced a round of cheese for us and then placed his portion between two pieces of bread along with a healthy spoonful of brown pickle. “I’m glad she’s safe now. Domaine must be in worse shape than we know.”

  Madam Stonedale rested several days before she was well enough to join us for evenfest. The usual noisy activity in the Kings Hall dropped off immediately when we saw her, walking with the support of Nieve’s father. Though thin and not very tall, she gave the impression of strength, holding her back straight and head high. Her hair was a mixture of gold and silver, and her piercing eyes and thin face reminded me of an eagle. Nodding graciously to everyone, she took her seat with Nieve’s family.

  The chatter in the room picked up again, and we served the meal. Afterwards, Lord Kempton stood to welcome her to the Household, adding, “I know that many of you are interested in hearing about life in Domaine and how Madam Stonedale came back to Canwyrrie. If you would like to hear what she has to say, please gather round.”

  Chairs and
tables scraped, and Nieve and I squeezed in as close as we could, craning to see around the heads of those in front of us. Madam Orabella sat with regal posture, her face composed. She began in a strong, clear voice with a slight foreign sound to her speech, telling us how she met her husband and eventually left Canwyrrie, hoping to find a happy life with his family in Domaine. “But from the first day we traveled into his country,” she said, “I was surprised by what I saw. People were not open and friendly to strangers or even to their own neighbors. Their faces were unsmiling, and they never looked into a person’s eyes. Even their clothing was strange, made in dark, dull shades and without decoration. I found that life was hard in Domaine. The land did not yield as it had in Canwyrrie, and there were no festivals, no music and dancing to look forward to. But I had made the decision to come, and I knew I must make the best of it.

  “Then came the joy of my life—starting a family of my own. We had two sons and raised them to be fine young men. I gave them Canwyrish names, Colm and Devin, to remind me of a happier place.”

  Her voice changed as she continued. “Our home was in the country, far from Lord Saduk and the affairs of Bal Zor, but remote as we were, I saw the mood of the land grow darker. Even the sun closed its eyes to us, and the sky became gray all the time. The heavens could not smile upon the land—withholding the rain and sunshine we so desperately needed. In that time, I began to have troubling dark dreams that mirrored the mood of the land. I did not understand my dreams, and they left me fearful of what was to come.” Here she paused for a moment, and the hall was quiet.

  “One day a band of Bezarq soldiers rode up to the farm. They were armed for battle and their faces were cold. But what terrified us most was the sight of the two vithons in their company. Although the keepers held their chains, you can imagine that we were frightened out of our wits.”

  A murmur went through the room. I could almost see the vithons’ stony eyes and wicked, sharp teeth as I listened for what happened next. Madam Stonedale took a deep breath, pushing herself to go on. “The leader discovered our two sons and conscripted them for his war band. We tried to refuse, but he threatened to loose the vithons on us. The keepers let the vithons roar and lunge against their chains, and we were so frightened that we gave up our own sons. Our own dear boys were taken from us, weeping, forced to serve in Saduk’s army.” Her voice broke, and no one dared to breathe until she collected herself.

  “We never saw them again. According to rumor, conscripts were sent to fight in the North, but we never heard a word from Colm or Devin.”

  Nieve sniffed and rustled in her pockets, but I could not take my eyes off Madam Orabella as she continued. “After they were taken, I had more dreams. Sometimes I saw things before they happened. I became known as a seer in the land. It was not a happy gift, for I saw the darkness swallow up our people. Fear, despair, drought, hunger, sickness—every evil thing grew in the land.

  “Lord Saduk made sure of our loyalty. His Bezarqs kept us bullied into submission. They came to the farms at harvest time and stole what little we scratched out of the dry earth. There was no mercy for anyone who crossed them. We feared them above everything else, for we could deny them nothing. All we talked about was Lord Saduk and the terrible things he did. He dominated every thought, every word, and no one was safe from his reach.

  “Then more trouble came. My husband fell ill. We had little to eat, and no healer to attend him, so he quickly grew worse. One day he called me to his side and asked me to forgive him for taking me from the home I loved. I told him there was nothing to forgive. He’d shared with me all that he had and given me two fine sons. But it gave him peace when I said that I forgave him. ‘I wish things had been different,’ he said. But it was a useless wish. Though I did everything I could for him, he died that day, and my last comfort in the world was gone.”

  She paused, her eyes distant recalling her story from afar. “Shortly after his death, I had another dream. I’d had the same dream years ago when the boys were young, but life had grown difficult, and I had forgotten it. In the dream I stood overlooking a lush meadow, carpeted with green grasses and sprinkled with red poppies and goldenrod. A noble king stood there. His majestic, white head was adorned with a jeweled crown that sparkled with living colors. He held the scepter of authority in his right hand, yet there was a kind look in his eyes, and I knew immediately that he was nothing like the cruel lord we served. A great throng surrounded him, and kneeling before him was a young lady clothed in the beauty of evening light. As I watched, he placed a shimmering crown upon her head.

  “The great company clapped and cheered. We were filled with such joy that even the heavens must share it. The soft glow of twilight had just faded, when suddenly the sky was flooded with the most amazing lights and colors imaginable. Shimmers of green and purple and red pulsed across the night sky like the heartbeat of the Maker. The whole company marveled at the sight, and I with them, wondering at being chosen to share in such a glorious event.

  “And then the wonderful dream was over, and I awoke to find myself in the land of drought and despair. Even so, the dreams of that radiant kingdom persisted. Night after night they flooded my mind, banishing the darkness while I slept, until each morning I would wake again and find myself in the same dismal place.

  “Still, a tiny bud began to open and grow inside of me. The dream gave me a glimpse of something better, and I knew I must pursue it. I remembered the prophecy spoken years ago in Canwyrrie—that a Warrior of the Dawn would arise, and the whole realm would live in peace and prosperity again. I found I could no longer be content with despair. I packed what little food I could pull together, said goodbye to my husband’s family, and took leave of the land of Domaine.” She spread out her hands and smiled at us. “So here I am, and I thank you all for your gracious welcome.”

  She looked at Lord Kempton, and he stood and cleared his throat; the sound was jarring in the quiet room. “Thank you, Madam Stonedale. You may be assured that you are most welcome here.” He bowed, and she inclined her head in acknowledgement.

  “Well,” he said, clearing his throat again, “this is indeed a happy occasion. Let’s bring out fresh drinks, and we’ll finish with a toast.”

  I headed to the cellars to draw cider and ale from the barrels, my heart still full of Madam Stonedale’s dream. By the time I came back with a frothy pitcher in each hand, lively conversation had returned to the hall. We went to serve the head table first, and I felt the seer’s gaze fall on me. I looked up and stopped in my tracks, pierced by her fiery blue eyes. To my shock, she stood and pointed at me. “You’re the one in the dream!” The seer’s voice cut through the chatter, and the whole hall went immediately still.

  Suddenly I couldn’t seem to catch my breath. My heart was racing as if I’d been running. I dropped the heavy pitchers on the table, and the sweet cider sloshed over the rims and onto my hands. The seer’s eyes were wide in her thin face. “You are the young lady!”

  My insides quaked, and the blood roared in my ears. No one stirred, and for a moment, we were the only two people in the room. Then I came to myself, aware that every eye in the hall was fixed on me. I turned and fled the room, out the doorway and into the dark curtain of night.

  Chapter 13

  I escaped the house without breakfast to avoid Mama and Papa. The bewildered look on their faces last night had been enough, but it was no better at school. I met Nieve as usual before lessons started.

  “What was that all about last night?” she asked. “Everyone is talking about it.”

  “She’s your relative. Why don’t you ask her?”

  “I did. Right after Mister Lionel saw her. He was concerned that she might have become overwrought by telling the sad details of her story before she was quite recovered. After he left, Cousin Orabella told us that the sudden appearance of a Northlander startled her. The dream was so fresh on her mind that for a moment she thought
, well, that you were part of her dream.”

  “Would you please explain that to everyone? It’s not been one day, and I’m already tired of people looking at me like I have three heads!”

  Nieve giggled. “Imagine that! But I’m not sure I believe my cousin was ill. What do you think?”

  “I think we’re about to be late for lessons.”

  Even though I wanted to deny it, Madam Stonedale’s dream awakened something deep inside of me. I felt an inward restlessness, as if something was started that I didn’t know how to finish. I half wished I could ask her what the dream meant, but I was fearful of what her answer might be.

  Several nights later, while training, I jumped Penmar into a hedge. The days were longer now, and Uncle Leo and I had gone back to the training course after evenfest. My mind wasn’t on what I was doing, and this time, Penmar suffered for it. As we helped him out of the broken branches, I saw that his belly was roughed up.

  “Now look what I’ve done! Poor Penmar.”

  “Just a few scratches,” Uncle Leo said. “He’ll be all right. Let’s take him home for the night.”

  Back at the stables, we spent a few minutes grooming Penmar and Arrow, getting them settled and comfortable in their stalls. Uncle Leo found a jar of salve and applied it to the scratches on Penmar’s belly. I said nothing, watching his gentle hands administer the soothing treatment. It must have been the sharp smell of the salve that made my eyes water when I got up close to inspect Penmar’s scratches.

  “It’s not like you to misjudge a jump,” Uncle Leo said.

  “I guess I wasn’t ready.”

  Penmar nudged my pockets, looking for treats. I fed him a carrot and felt his warm, moist breath on my hands.

  “We need to talk about it, Aidriana.”

  I traced my fingertips over the silky softness behind Penmar’s ears. “I’m tired of being different,” I said in a small voice. “I look different, I feel different, I act different, and now this.”