“But that was a thousand years ago,” he continues. “Papa would also tell another story—one he made up. Everyone who heard it would listen, entranced, wishing so terribly hard it was true, that it would happen. But nobody ever truly believed it—apart from me.”
He pauses then, but I desperately want him to go on.
“And are you going to tell me that one?” I say.
“Yes, m’lady. The details were different each time, but it always started with a baby—a baby girl, born to be King. But instead of being killed, she’s smuggled away, and is allowed to grow up far from the Bastion. Years later she returns. It’s difficult—she must fight for her kingdom. But eventually she claims her rightful place on the throne.” He stops, looks up at me. Clearly he’s gauging my reaction.
I try to keep my face even, but I’m completely unnerved at how the story Leif’s father used to tell is so similar to my own. Except that the thought of me somehow fighting King Araroa, forcing him from power, nearly makes me laugh out loud.
“It’s a good story.” I have to force myself to keep my voice steady. “The King clearly thinks I’m a threat to his throne, having sent such a great number of troops out to find me. But he’s wasting his time. I only want to leave this kingdom—I have no desire to rule it.”
“Do you not?” he asks.
“No.”
“The tale has given many hope.”
“I’m sure it has.”
We’re silent for a time. Leif continues to keep pace with Pearl and me. Catriona is riding ahead of us, Tui a little way behind. I’m not sure if they can hear us.
There’s something I need to know. “How did you get involved? With the Hunters, I mean? I can’t imagine the King would advertise the truth about the search.”
“Yes, you’re right about that. In the past, nobody believed the story my papa told, except for me. I simply loved that story and wished with all my heart that a Woman King would be born, and survive, in my lifetime. I came to believe it would happen. Then the King began soliciting Hunters last year. All they were told was that there's a person who’s a threat to his throne. I knew it was time.”
“How? How did you know?”
“Because others started to believe it too. My papa for one. He’d started telling the story not as a fantasy, but as something certain to come true. Each time he told it in a new place, he would leave the people rejuvenated. He would leave a seed of hope behind.”
I don’t know what to say to that. I’m certainly not the Woman King they’re waiting for. I may have been born to the role, but that is not who I am. I hope only to survive.
I say none of this to Leif.
“May the hope keep spreading,” I say. “Maybe there will be a Woman King one day.”
“There will be,” he replies. He’s looking straight ahead at the trail in front of us, a small satisfied smile on his face.
Maybe there will be. But it won’t be me.
The path along the river seems to go on forever. Three days and nights pass with hardly any variance in the terrain. At least it’s pleasurable, riding through crisp colorful leaves lit by the soft autumn sun. We’re all enjoying the fresh fish I catch in the river, along with the seemingly endless supply of fresh delights Leif has brought with him. We’ve even found several kinds of berries, which add a nice variety.
It’s our third night at camp along the river. We’re sitting around our blazing fire, tea mugs full, bellies stuffed from another delicious meal. It’s unlikely there's anyone around for miles and miles, so there's no need to lay low this far from possible danger.
Tui and Leif have become more familiar with each other over the past few days. They’ve walked together and talked. Tui even let Leif ride Pango for a while.
I smile, hearing Tui laugh heartily at a story Leif is telling, about a time he and his father found out too late that they’d traded clothing for a night at a brothel.
“There we were in the lobby that night. I don’t know how it had escaped us earlier in the day, but it was clear where we were now. Lovely ladies were crowded around us, begging us to take their hands. It was hard not to follow them into their rooms, to be honest.”
“Go on, what did you do then?” Tui asks, catching his breath between laughter.
“Well, my pa, who never skips a beat said, ‘Darn it! I sold my birthday suit earlier today!’ and we hightailed it out of there.”
I notice Catriona is not laughing. She’s staring into the fire, a stern look on her face. She’s been saying little these past few days—to myself, Tui, or Leif. I’d tried multiple times to strike up a conversation while we were riding, but she’d only reply briskly, then move off to ride on her own. Even now, around the fire, she seems annoyed by the situation, probably because Leif knows this countryside far better than she does, having traveled around with his father for so many years.
Well, she’s just going to have to accept it. Leif is with us now.
Two days later, we’re standing at a fork in the road. The path we’ve been following runs right into the river, but fording it isn’t appealing. The water is roaring now, and the river is choked with boulders.
The alternative is a small path winding up the hill to our left.
“What do you think, Catriona?” I ask.
She’s pulled her map out and has it spread on the ground. Squatting, she studies it. “This isn’t much help,” she says apologetically. “The map doesn’t even show the path we’re on as crossing the river. It has it going up the hill here. If we go up the hill, it looks like we’ll end up right where we want to be, at the base of the mountain.”
Leif is sitting with his back to a tree. His feet are resting on his pack and he’s chewing a stem of peppermint. He pulls it out of his mouth and says, “Your map is wrong, Catriona. We head up that trail, and we head right into the path of Hunters. That way leads to Dunfall, on the main road to the Bastion ”
Catriona swings her head up to look at him. Her eyes are glittering. “Impossible,” she barks. “The map clearly shows this leads us to where we can pass over Mount Zenith.”
Leif is not ruffled. “I’m sure it does. But it’s the pass everyone uses. We’d be much better off crossing the river. Another day or two and we’ll be in Sagegate.”
Catriona says nothing, but continues to fume.
“What is Sagegate? Have you been there?” I ask him.
“Yes indeed, m’lady. It’s a nice village, right at the base of Mount Zenith. Always a nice reprieve from traveling. We’ll also be able to hire a guide to get us over the mountain. It’s a treacherous route, but not impossible with help.”
Catriona studies the map again, then looks up. “There is no Sagegate on this map.”
“No, likely not,” Leif says. “It’s quite out of the way. Only traders like myself and Pa ever stop in there. Lovely wool, they have. Sheep country.”
She’s still not convinced. “Well, it’s up to you, Raven. We can go the way I know, where we’re sure to get across the mountains before winter. Or we can try this—this route to the imaginary Sagegate.”
I quickly look around for Tui. Suddenly I need him with me, to advise me, to back me up. But he’s wandered off toward the river. I watch as he throws rocks, trying to reach the other shore. I suspect it’s no accident he’s keeping out of earshot.
I kneel next to the map to have a look for myself. Indeed there appears to be no route across the river. And no Sagegate. Just the relief lines to indicate seemingly impassable mountains in that direction. But it’s not clear where the trail up the hill leads. Catriona says it heads in the direction of the main route, but the map doesn’t indicate this. Or perhaps it leads to another, easier, pass across, where the mountains are less rugged.
But one thing is certain. Taking the path to our left will lead us closer to the Hunters.
I stand up. “We’ll cross the river and make for Sagegate,” I announce. I point to the path leading uphill. “If the Hunters are that way, then we must
go the other.”
Catriona’s face falls and she presses her lips together tightly. Without a word, she folds the map and stuffs it back in her saddle bag.
Leif remains next to the tree. He’s smiling up at me, but his face is curiously free of smugness. He stands and deftly hoists his heavy pack onto his back. “M’lady, let me help you across the river. I know just where to cross.”
I nod and go to remount Pearl. Tui’s getting Pango ready for the crossing. We follow Leif down to the river and along the bank.
“Here,” he says, “this is the best place. Fewer boulders. We’ll take our time; we don’t want to scare the horses. They may not like this.”
He takes the lead attached to Pearl’s halter and steps into the raging river.
The river has grown in volume and intensity as we’ve followed its banks the past few days. Now the current roars and tumbles over moss-covered rocks. As Leif wades in, it almost reaches his waist.
But Pearl trusts me and steps gingerly into the water behind him. The cold water covers my feet and comes partway up my legs. I can feel Pearl resisting the river’s pressure as she carefully steps her way across, following Leif’s lead.
I look back to see Tui behind me. Pango is stepping confidently too; both of them appear to be smiling. Relishing this little adventure.
Catriona is still on the bank, securing her bags for the crossing.
A minute later we reach the other side. Leif scrambles up the bank, Pearl and I following. I watch to make sure Tui and Pango make it up behind us. They start up the muddy bank … then suddenly, Pango’s hoof slips.
I gasp as they stumble backward. Tui grabs onto Pango’s neck as the black horse struggles to find footing. They are a dark blur, struggling. Just when it looks like they are going down, Pango dashes up the bank to the dry shore.
“Whooeee, that was awesome!” Tui says. His face beams with exhilaration.
Leif is smiling too. “Well done! That was some recovery.”
“All in a day’s riding,” Tui says casually.
We all turn to look at Catriona, still on the other side of the river. She’s on Hazel’s back and they’re both studying the water. Hesitating.
“Do you need a hand?” Leif calls out to her.
She glares at him. “No, I don’t.”
Catriona coaxes Hazel into the water. But we can all see the horse resisting. She spurs her on. “Let’s go!” Her horse follows Catriona’s demands, stepping into the raging water with reluctance. But Hazel doesn’t make her way slowly and carefully, as our horses did. She rushes across, leaping over boulders as she goes.
They’re nearly at the opposite bank when the horse stumbles. Unlike Pango, she doesn’t recover. Hazel goes down onto her knees, and I watch in disbelief as Catriona is thrown into the water.
Immediately, Leif tosses his pack down, runs along the bank and heads into the river, to where Catriona is being carried. Within seconds he’s upon her and grabs hold of her hood. She’s able to get her footing and they both make their way to the riverbank, where Hazel’s already waiting, having scrambled up on her own. The horse is breathing heavily and her eyes are terrified.
Leif and Catriona climb up the bank, dripping.
“I hope this way is worth the trouble,” she mutters. “But thank you, anyway.”
“My pleasure,” he says, with not a hint of sarcasm. “Why don’t I get started making a fire. It’s going to be evening soon, and we could all use a good drying out.”
A short time later, the fire’s roaring and we’ve spread ourselves and our wet gear around it. Catriona keeps to herself, a little farther away. She doesn’t say a word for the rest of the night.
Chapter 10
The little town of Sagegate comes into view, nestled at the foot of Mount Zenith, just as Leif described. This doesn’t help Catriona’s sullen mood. She’s hardly said a word these past two days.
After we stopped for lunch yesterday, I fell back to ride next to her. “Hey there. You okay after yesterday’s, er, swim?”
She just nodded and mumbled that she was fine, eyes staring straight ahead. I wondered if asking her about getting over this mountain would help—she must be feeling like a third wheel, following along with Leif’s advice when she’s supposed to be our tracker.
“So, if this town really is up ahead, what are the chances we’ll be able to find a guide there? We really need to get across before winter sets in.”
Catriona didn’t say anything, but a flash of excitement crossed her face. If anything can cheer Catriona up, it’s the promise of adventure.
“I’m not sure,” she replied. “But I do know we’ll need a guide to cross safely. I’ve never been this way. Obviously. Sorry, I’m not much help.” She looked over at me then and tried to force a smile, but her eyes were hard.
I smiled back. “That’s not true, Catriona. You’re a huge help, either way. No matter what happens.”
“Thanks, Raven. I hope so.”
But that’s the only recent conversation we’ve had. It doesn’t help that Tui and Leif have completely hit it off; they’ve walked side by side, taking turns riding Pango, laughing and joking and telling stories.
It’s evening when we arrive in Sagegate, where colorful small houses are nestled together on either side of a meandering creek crisscrossed with tidy curved bridges. Fluffy white sheep are dotted around the green hills, and the setting sun throws a pinkish-orange glow over the whole scene.
Leif brings us to one of the larger houses next to the creek. He knocks, and the door is opened by a short, plump woman. Her face is puzzled as she looks us over, then she brightens when she recognizes Leif.
“Leif, my boy! We didn’t expect to see you until spring! What brings you this way? Never mind, never mind. You and your friends come on in. It’s getting chilly out. Come in, come in.” She opens the door wide and waves us inside with a flourish.
A fire roars in the large stone fireplace at the center of the room, filling the house with welcoming heat.
“Have a sit down!” she says. “Can I get you something to drink? A tea? A cider?”
“I’ll have one of your famous ciders, please, Mrs. Mulberry. And one each for my friends, too. Right?” Leif looks around at us, eyebrows raised in question. We all nod and finish untying our boots to leave by the door.
“Wonderful! I’ll go get those while you warm up.” Mrs. Mulberry heads through the door to the kitchen.
Leif sits down beside me on the bench. He leans back on the carved wooden backrest and stretches his long legs out in front of him. “My father and I have traded with the Mulberrys for years,” he explains. “Their sheep produce the loveliest wool you’ll ever lay your fingers in. We always sell it for top dollar back at the Bastion.” He points to the sheepskin rug lying on the floor in front of me. “There, lay your toes in that.” I stretch my legs out and curl my toes in the soft white wool. It truly is heavenly.
Mrs. Mulberry returns with four mugs of cider. I breathe in the spicy sweet scent. That alone makes me feel even warmer.
“So, what brings you this way, Mr. Leif?” she asks.
Leif doesn’t miss a beat with his reply. “Might I introduce my cousins: Raven, Tui, Catriona. We’re meeting Father over in the Bastion for a family reunion of sorts. They’ve never been there, so I came to guide them.”
“Oh, that’s marvelous! Very good of you. But why come this way and not by the main pass?”
Leif’s eyes twinkle. “It’s more of an adventure to come this way, I hear.”
Mrs. Mulberry seems to accept this. “That it is. ’Tis not easy to pass over Zenith this time of year. But it can be done. Old Benford’s crossed many times. But since his accident he hasn’t been crossing at all. You should ask his son if he’ll guide you.”
“We’ll find him tomorrow and do that, thank you.” Leif flashes her a huge grin.
She claps her hands together. “Well then! You must stay for supper. And of course you’re all welcome to
sleep in the barn, as always.”
“That sounds delightful,” I say to her. “We’re very thankful for the accommodation.”
“’Tis my pleasure! Now, you enjoy your cider and warm yourselves and I’m going to put the finishing touches on our supper. It’ll be ready shortly.” She bustles back toward the kitchen.
Leif turns to me. His smile is gone, his face serious. “I hope you don’t mind sleeping in a barn, m’lady.”
I can’t hold back a little laugh. “Of course not! It’s got to be nicer than sleeping on the ground.”
Leif smiles again before he takes a gulp of cider. “That it is. It’s the nicest barn for miles and miles around, to boot.” He turns back to Tui and Catriona, sitting together on a bench across from us. “There’ll be room for the horses in the barn too. Shall we get them settled in before supper?”
“Sure thing,” Tui says, “if I can peel my arse away from this fire. I might just curl up on that wool rug there and sleep for the next twenty hours!”
Leif and Tui manage to drag themselves away from the heat and go outside to tuck the horses into the barn and out of the cold. Mrs. Mulberry starts putting dishes onto the large dining table. I walk over with my empty cider mug. “Let me help you with that, ma’am.”
“Oh, that would be delightful.” She notices my empty mug. “You can put your mug next to where you’d like to sit. I’ve got some lovely mulled cider to have with dinner.” Mrs. Mulberry sets down the pile of plates and heads back to the kitchen. The aromas drifting out are making my mouth water.
I place the twelve plates around the table. More guests must be coming. Mrs. Mulberry returns from the kitchen with an armload of mugs. I thank her again for having us over without notice.
“Oh, ’tis nothing! We never know who’s going to show up for dinner, so I always make a large meal—roast mutton tonight. Whatever’s not eaten at dinner will be lunch tomorrow. My son Jude and his wife Meg and their four young ’uns are coming by tonight as well”—she nods toward the extra place settings—“so I’ve made even more than usual. There’ll be plenty for all!”
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