Bronwyn’s nose was becoming accustomed to the city odours, however, as they neared the markets, she could smell rotting food among other things. “Is it safe to buy food here? It smells awful.”
“The goods for sale will be fresh; don’t worry. There’s no market on a Sunday, which is the day the old food is cleared away. The farmers take most of it back home to feed the pigs and gardens.”
“I’m glad I’m not a pig then, Auntie.”
Avruellen laughed. The girls followed Avruellen around the markets as she bought things they would need for the days ahead. Bronwyn would have asked where they were going, but she didn’t know much of the world, and was sure Avruellen would tell them soon anyway. The girls quickly found their arms laden with purchases. When they couldn’t carry any more, Avruellen led the girls back to the Inn. “We’ll buy the food tomorrow, on our way out of town. There’s no use carrying it up and back again.” The girls were enthusiastic in their agreement.
By the time they had packed the things away in larger bags, everyone was hungry. Afternoon shadows slanted across Middle Street as they ate lunch. Afterward, they made a trip up the hill to a seamstress and cobbler. Bronwyn and Corrille had fun trying things on. One of the shirts Bronwyn tried had voluminous sleeves and gaudy patterns that made her look like a court jester. They had never seen a shop with so many different styles of clothes. They each bought travel clothes that consisted of pants, shirts, new boots, and waterproof coats. Bronwyn was surprised at how good her Aunt looked in the outfit; she had never seen her in pants before. Bronwyn had only ever had one pair of trousers, which she wore when participating in sword lessons, but they were worn out, so she had left them at home.
The city streets were more shadow than light by the time they finished. When they reached the Inn, Avruellen requested baths for the two girls. “Why aren’t you having one, Miss Avruellen?” Corrille liked to question everything; it was her small way of rebelling.
“I have to go and buy some horses. I’ll have my bath when I return. I expect you two to stay here and wait for me. Do not, under any circumstances, leave this inn. Am I understood?” She arched an eyebrow.
“What if it catches fire?”
“Well, Corrille, I obviously expect you to use your common sense. If you leave here and it is not a life and death situation, there will be one when I find you.” Avruellen stared hard at the girl. Corrille didn’t answer. “Bronwyn, I’m leaving you in charge while I’m gone. Don’t disappoint me.”
Avruellen returned well after dark. She smiled to discover she had been obeyed. The girls had bathed, eaten, and were preparing for bed. They were yawning and Bronwyn’s eyes were half closed. Avruellen answered a few of their questions about the horses, then went to take a bath. They would all wear their new pants tomorrow—their dresses being extremely dirty and requiring so many repairs that Avruellen instructed the innkeeper to burn them.
After dinner, Avruellen went upstairs to check on the girls. They were asleep. She returned downstairs and asked Bethwyn to make sure her charges stayed put. Avruellen left to meet with Hermas. The street lamps had been lit and the night was clear. Avruellen was attired against the cold in her new, soft coat, but she found the smell of treated leather, reminding her of the original, living animal that had died for her warmth, offensive. She knew the animal would have been killed for the meat, not the leather, however that was small comfort. In any case, it kept her warm. She instinctively knew the streets and alleyways of this large city, so found her way easily in the dimly lit environment.
It was too dangerous for them to meet at the castle, so Avruellen made her way to a large house in the rich quarter. She went to the rear servants’ entrance. The owner was a deeply religious man who practiced as a medical physician. He was well known for his dislike of realmists. They hoped it would be the last place anyone would think of to place spies. Agmunsten had tutored the good doctor in the secrets of the Realms. Some of his miraculous medical cures could only be attributed to magic, however, the doctor was the only one to know that. The Circle needed eyes and ears throughout the world, and it was wise to have people whom everyone would least suspect.
Avruellen found the back door ajar and entered quietly, passing through a large storeroom and into the warm kitchen. Two candles brightened the gloom and cast soothing yellow light around the room, illuminating the head cook, who was baking for the next morning. She puffed as she vigorously kneaded the dough on a well-worn wooden table. She didn’t say anything to Avruellen; the staff were trained to keep to themselves. As far as anyone knew, Avruellen was here to collect medicine for her sick husband.
Hermas was known to the house staff as the doctor’s faithful, sometime assistant, who would stay up late for emergencies such as this, so the doctor didn’t have to. No one at the castle missed the queen’s senile friend on the three nights a week he came here. Everyone just expected that crazy old Hermas had gone to bed early. When there was nothing to do, he and the doctor played cards and reminisced about times when Edmund’s father was king. These social engagements were always warded. If an enemy had managed to gain employment in the house, Hermas’s deception would have been discovered and his host would have been under suspicion as having links with The Circle.
Avruellen left the kitchen by the door to the dining hall. Her old friend, Hermas, held a solitary candle, which he placed on the table. He held out his arms. Avruellen embraced him with all her strength. “Careful, you’ll squeeze my dinner out.”
She let go and stood back to look at him. It had been eighteen years since they had seen each other. Avruellen took in the white hair and stooped posture. Her smile faded. “You’re looking older.”
“You haven’t changed. Don’t look so sad, I’m OK. My hair’s not really as white as it looks. I bleach it. I have to cultivate a certain image you know.”
Her smile returned. “How is everyone?”
“They’re all good. Gabrielle’s daughter has grown into a lovely young lady. She takes after her mother.” Hermas knew Avruellen missed them, and wasn’t surprised to see her eyes glistening.
“I saw that cretin, Leon, leave the city today. What was that about?”
“He claims to have had an invitation to meet King Suklar to ascertain the suitability of a match between himself and the princess.”
Avruellen shook her head.
“Yes. I know. The interesting thing is that Edmund is starting to have doubts about his beloved brother. I try to drop the occasional hint, but his eyes are usually closed to anything negative being suggested about Leon. Anyway, he’s sent Pernus to keep an eye on things. You should have seen Leon try to hide his anger at that announcement.”
Avruellen allowed herself a small laugh at Leon’s displeasure. She had known him as an infant and teenager. He hid his character well, but Avruellen knew the true Leon. She saw his jealousy, dishonesty, and sadism. Avruellen had been the one to beat his backside to a pulp when she had found him stabbing a squirrel with iron skewers he had fashioned himself. The only thing she could do for the squirrel was kill it quickly to put it out of its misery. When she’d done that, Leon had complained she had robbed him of the pleasure. She shuddered at the memory.
“How’s your young protégé? Will she be up to the task?”
“Bronwyn’s well. She’s grown into a strong-willed young woman. We’ve had more than a few arguments.”
“Sounds like someone else I know.”
“Now who in the world would that be?” The friendly banter was just like old times.
“Does she know about her parents?”
“Not yet. Agmunsten thought we should wait. It would upset her too much, and she might abandon what we’re doing. We can’t afford anything to get in the way now. This is our only chance.”
“But she’ll have to be told eventually. You know what the prophesies say: We all have to go to the battle with full knowledge of ourselves and our heritage.”
“There’s still time, Hermas. We hav
e a couple of things to do before we’re ready for that. I noticed Edmund still guards his capital as his father taught him.”
“Yes. I made sure I drummed that into him as he was growing up. After his father died, he followed everything I suggested—and still does. We’ll be as prepared as we can be, when the day comes.”
They took a moment to look at each other. Hermas handed the realmist a very small piece of quartz. Inside the clear stone was a fossilised drop of blood. The quartz had one jagged end. Hermas held the other half in trust. Avruellen knew the significance of the stone and placed it inside the gold locket at her throat.
They faced each other. Hermas held Avruellen’s soft hands in his. “I hope we meet again soon. Keep Bronwyn safe.” He hugged his life-long friend.
“Oh, I almost forgot. We’ve got one of Bronwyn’s friends with us. Her name’s Corrille. She was running away from home when she caught up with us. She doesn’t know what we’re doing, and I plan to keep it that way. I’m not sure she can be trusted. Can you do some digging around and see what you can find out?”
“You can always count on me. I’ll let you know.” They kissed each other’s cheeks. After Avruellen left, Hermas extinguished the candle and made his way back to the castle.
Avruellen had one last errand to run before she returned. She took a trip to an armourer renowned for exquisite work. She knew she would find the craftsman and his apprentices hard at work—being the best armourer in Bayerlon ensured he was always busy. Working well into the night was the only way he could keep up with the constant orders. It was about time Bronwyn had a quality sword. They had left her old, battered one at the cottage. It wouldn’t hurt for them all to have their own daggers either.
The next morning the girls jumped out of bed early and ate a freshly prepared breakfast. Bronwyn felt refreshed and clean for the first time since leaving her home. Whilst they waited for Avruellen to settle the bill, Corrille questioned her friend. “Did you know your aunt went somewhere last night? She got back late.”
“She said she had to meet with someone. Remember? I think it was an old friend or relative or something. She used to live here you know.”
“Yeah. I was just curious. Do you trust her to keep us safe? I mean, we don’t even know where we’re going. She could be taking us to our deaths for all we know.”
“Don’t be so dramatic. Of course I trust her, and besides, you don’t have to be here. It was your choice.” Bronwyn felt bad as soon as she said it.
“Some choice. Do you want me to beat you so you can see what it feels like?”
“No. I’m sorry. Look, all I can tell you is that my aunt will do everything in her power to keep us safe. It’s not like we’re starving, and she just bought us some really nice clothes.” Corrille nodded, but Bronwyn could tell she was still suspicious of Avruellen. She could sense the two of them didn’t trust, or even like, each other and naively wished everyone could just be friends. Bronwyn loved both of them and wasn’t about to take sides. They would both have to learn to get along.
The first stop in the morning was to pick up Bronwyn’s surprise. Avruellen took the girls to the shop she had visited the previous night. “Why are we here, Auntie?”
“I have a surprise, just something I ordered last night.” They went in and were greeted by Fingus, the proprietor. “Good morning, ladies.”
“Good morning, Fingus. Are they ready?”
“Yes, Miss Avruellen. I stayed up all night to make sure they were what you wanted.”
“Thank you, Fingus, you’re a real gem.” The blacksmith smiled. Not only had he made the customer happy, he had received a good amount of money to do so.
He disappeared out the back to collect the items. When he brought them in and laid them on the counter, the girls gasped. “Wow, they’re beautiful.” Bronwyn was studying the various handles. They were all ornately finished.
Fingus addressed Bronwyn. “Pick up the sword and see how it feels.”
“Are you sure?”
He nodded. Bronwyn gripped the hilt and lifted it off the counter. She took a few steps into the middle of the room and assumed her fighting stance. The sword felt good. It was lighter than the one she was used to, and the grip was perfect.
Avruellen watched her niece, pleased to see she was impressed. “So, you like it?”
“Yes, it’s beautiful.”
“It’s for you.” Bronwyn stopped mid-parry.
“Are you joking?”
“No, it’s really for you. I think you’ve earned it. Unfortunately, you might need it in the not-too-distant future. I expect you to take good care of it.”
“I will, Auntie. Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Her smile was broad, however Corrille looked on with a touch of jealousy.
“Now, Bronwyn, put that away. I have something else.” Fingus handed Bronwyn the scabbard. Avruellen indicated both girls should take a dagger. They were also exquisitely worked and this time Corrille smiled as well. “Thank you, Miss Avruellen. It’s beautiful. No one has ever given me anything this wonderful before. It must be worth a fortune.”
“Almost. I’m glad you like it.” Avruellen picked up her own dagger, which she had to admit was frivolous but impressive, compared to the one she had brought with her. Amidst the ornate silverwork was a large ruby. She hadn’t had a beautiful weapon for years and thought it was about time she treated herself. Three happy women departed Fingus’s premises that morning.
As they made their way to the markets for the last time, Bronwyn wondered how she was going to carry such a heavy pack, then remembered they were going to ride horses. She loved horses but hadn’t ridden much. Most animals she came across liked her, or so she surmised. She felt an affinity for animals that led her to feel more comfortable with them than with some humans. Seeing the poverty in a big city only reinforced the fact that man was selfish and more beastly than the so-called beasts of the animal kingdom.
By the time Avruellen bought all the food they would need, the stitching on their packs was straining with the pressure. The last stop within the city was the horse sale yards. The horses Avruellen had purchased were in the stables at the back of the property. Bronwyn jumped up and down when she saw the animals saddled and waiting, although she wrinkled her nose at the smell of the enclosed area. Avruellen approached a black horse whose coat was not unlike the colour of her hair. She indicated Bronwyn’s was the dark brown and Corrille’s the reddish brown.
Bronwyn grinned, rushed to the magnificent animal and stroked his nose. “I think I’ll call you Prince. I’ve always wanted my own prince.”
“Very funny, Bronny. I think I’ll call my horse ‘Horse’.”
“Oh, Corrille, that’s not very imaginative.”
“I like it, and I think it’s better than ‘Prince.’ That sounds childish.” Bronwyn rolled her eyes and made every effort to hold her tongue; her aunt would have no hesitation in punishing them if they got into another argument.
Avruellen showed them how to attach their packs to their saddles. They led the horses outside, and Avruellen mounted. The stable-hand had to assist the girls. Bronwyn was very comfortable in her new clothes and couldn’t imagine trying to ride whilst wearing a dress. She felt very high off the ground. “What happens if I fall off?”
“You’ll hurt yourself. Just try to stay on. If you want the horse to stop, lean back in the saddle and pull the reins toward you. If you want to go faster give him a little kick in the ribs.”
“I don’t want to hurt him.”
“You won’t. If you want to change direction, gently tug the rein on the same side as you want to turn, and kick with the opposite foot. If we have to gallop, hold on tight with your legs. When we’re walking, hold the reins loosely. The horses should follow each other.”
Satisfied they had the basics, Avruellen made her way toward the city gates. As they rode through, Bronwyn turned and waved goodbye to Bayerlon. She had spent such a short time there, but the city felt as if it could be home. S
he remembered back to when Avruellen told her she would find another home one day, and now felt it could be the truth. She still missed the cottage, and her other friends in the village, but appreciated how moving on could also be fun.
She wondered where her parents had lived. She had always assumed they had all lived in, or near, the village in which she had grown up. The more she thought about it though, the more she realised no one had ever spoken about her parents, or professed to have known them. That was strange if they had lived nearby. Maybe they were from somewhere else, maybe even from Bayerlon. Bronwyn halted her line of thinking. It was crowding her head with questions and she wanted to enjoy the day, not feel sad.
After exiting the city, Avruellen guided her horse to the south. “We’ll take it slow today. Your bottoms will be very sore for the next few days, and I don’t want to have to listen to too much whingeing.”
“We won’t whinge. We’re not babies you know.” Corrille sat straight-backed in her saddle. Avruellen smiled but gave no response.
“Where are we headed, Auntie?”
“Pollona. It will probably take nine or ten days, depending on the countryside and the weather.”
“Isn’t that dragon country?” Bronwyn was scared; she’d heard some nasty stories about dragons and their insatiable appetite for humans.
“It’s on the border. Don’t worry. You two are too skinny to satisfy a dragon; they prefer fatter people.” Avruellen managed to keep a straight face. “Since you girls are so grown up and tough, I think we can pick up the pace a bit.” She knew she would regret it later, as she hadn’t been in the saddle for a long time, but nudged her horse into a trot anyway. At least the girls would be too busy concentrating to complain.
Shadows of the Realm (The Circle of Talia) Page 9