“Eat,” his mother said across from him. “You need your strength.”
“Why are we living like this, Mother?” Caius asked. He rolled the potato around with his wooden knife. “Now that Pa is gone, we can move to Lockmire, or Prynveil. We can eat enough to fill ourselves.”
“We have no money to do that, Caius,” Mother told him. “A house in Lockmire or Prynveil costs far more than you can imagine.”
“There must be inns or taverns we can sleep in. Maven’s family lives in Ralik. We could try to live with them. She’s offered.”
“They have far too many mouths to feed already. Do you really want to be a burden to them?”
“No, but I’d rather be a burden than starve to death.” He glanced up at his mother and the shrunken carrot on her plate. “Or watch you starve to death.”
“We still have food on our plates. We can be grateful.”
Caius stabbed the potato. “I could hunt.”
“The weather is horrible. There won’t be any animals to hunt.”
“Pa did it last winter. He shot an elk.”
“No,” she said. She gave a soft sigh, reaching across the table to squeeze his hand. “Just give it time, Pebble. The winter will ebb out. We’ll be all right.”
In one swipe, Caius divided the potato. He stuck the entire half in his mouth and tried to speak. “Nah oll erh een salh.”
Mother tilted her head at him. “Again, but without the potato.”
Caius swallowed. “No oil or even salt.”
“Well you can’t hunt for oil or salt, now can you?”
“No, but I can trade a good set of antlers or a rabbit’s foot for some. You’ve always wanted a cow or a goat, too, for milk. I could trade enough for it. Pa did it.”
She cut the very tip of the carrot with the edge of her knife. “Pa did many things. He also traded a week’s worth of coin for a silver necklace.”
Caius’ eyes went to her empty neck. “Which you sold.”
“To buy your bow, so we can eat.”
“And now, I’m not allowed to use it. Why?” Caius stood, throwing one hand into the air. “Because of a little snow?”
Mother rose to her feet. “You’ll freeze to death out there. And then where will I be?”
“So you want us to stay here and slowly starve? The cold will not leave until Tabeo at least. We’ll be dead by then.”
“We will make it.”
Caius grabbed his cloak from the bed and swung it around his shoulders. “I’m going.”
“Please…” Mother seized his arm. “Don’t go out there.”
“I have to. I have to provide for this family. We have vegetables for a few more days, and that’s it.”
“At least wait for the weather to clear.”
“I’ll be back in a few hours. Don’t worry, Ma.”
“Caius.”
Shouldering his gear, he headed out without listening to the rest.
The snow immediately blew behind his cloak. He pulled it closed, blinking in the bright whiteness around him. Snowflakes were huge and falling fast, obscuring much of the forest. Immediately, Caius knew he wouldn’t be able to hit anything. He’d only been hunting a few times with Father, and he wasn’t near as good. But he couldn’t turn back. He’d look foolish, like a child. And he had to be a man now to care for Mother.
Caius wandered through the white forest, searching for game. After an hour at least, he spotted a rabbit. His numb fingers fumbled for his bow, but it dashed away before he even got an arrow strung. At long last, Caius gave up, and instead searched for the cottage, but it was lost in the sea of white. Defeated and shivering uncontrollably, he crumpled to the snowy ground.
He’d hoped Father would come back, but it had been weeks. Despite the man he was, Caius missed him, and he knew Mother missed him too. Caius pounded his fists against the snow. He wished desperately he hadn’t said such unpleasant things to Mother. It gave him a sick feeling in his stomach.
Caius rolled onto his side in the snow. The cold enveloped him, sinking far past his skin, freezing every part of him. The tears gathering in his eyes were his only warmth. He was a foolish child. He just wanted to help Mother, and now, she would be alone.
Caius woke what felt like moments later at a surrounding warmth. Heat drove straight to the centre of his chest and spread throughout his body like rays of sunshine. It melted him, saturated him, soothed his stiff muscles.
He sat up in the snow and spotted his mother beside him, wearing no outer cloak or protection from the weather. She was tucked on her side, with one hand reached out to him. On top of his cloak, he now had a blanket wrapped around his shoulders.
In a panic, Caius picked her up. The snowfall had calmed enough for him to find the cottage. He laid her in bed and tucked the cloak and blanket both on top of her. He scooped snow into the pot and melted it over the fire.
His mother woke slowly. “Caius…”
“I’m here, Ma. What happened? What did you do?”
“I only know this one spell,” she said through blue lips. “You were frozen.”
He rubbed her icy hands between his. “What spell? You’re so cold.”
“It might be some kind of dark magic, but it transfers heat from one person to another.”
Caius stopped to stare, clasping her hands tightly. “What? Permanently?”
“I…I think so.”
“So you’re just going to freeze to death now?”
“No. As long as I stay inside, I should be all right.”
Tears filled Caius’ eyes. He fell to his knees next to the bed. “You shouldn’t have done that.”
“I should have let my only son freeze to death out in the cold?”
“Your foolish son who disobeyed you,” Caius returned. He poured the hot water into a mug and gave it to her to drink. “Here.”
She took a tentative sip. “Thank you.”
He knelt again beside her bed. Tears stung his eyes. “I’m so sorry, Ma. I shouldn’t have gone. I should have listened to you.”
“Yes, but it is done.” She touched his cheek. “Everything is fine, my dear.”
Caius looked away from her. He knew it wasn’t.
Every time a cold snap hit, Mother’s health declined, but she would only retire to her bed when Caius forced her to. The woman could not sit still. She would sew in bed. Tidy up even after Caius thought he did an adequate job. Cook whenever Caius was out. Food was never as difficult to obtain after that, despite Caius’ lack of appetite to eat it. He improved at hunting. They grew gardens with seeds from Prynveil, traded from Caius’ hunts. Winter colds could no longer hinder him, as he hardly felt them. But Mother only lasted one more full winter. The next one took her life.
Caius glances up from Lord Krassis’ garden. Evelyn is outside, dumping a chamber pot into the sewer brook in the corner. Her hair is braided, so all is well. She sees him and gives a small nod. He smiles at her. There has certainly been a lot of darkness in his life, but she is the golden light that’s made every trial bearable.
“Back to work, Pevrel,” snaps one of the guards.
Caius sighs and picks up his shovel again. That day in the cold, when Caius was fourteen and giving up, his mother’s selfless love had kept him alive. And today, in this blistering heat, Evelyn’s love keeps him working.
Hours later, when the dreadful sun bends toward the west, they finally break for supper, Caius’ favourite part of the day. He sits down at a small servants’ table with Evelyn and some other servants from the castle. Two of the kitchen workers serve up dishes of boiled potatoes and slices of ham, cheese, and bread. He’s going to miss meat once the spoils from battle run out. Krassis is seemingly not trying to ration them out to last longer. He enjoys celebration too much.
Caius leans closer to Evelyn. “How did your meeting go?”
Evelyn’s eyes flit from the main dining table filled with other castle members back to Caius. “My mother is a witch.”
“What happen
ed?”
She explains their conversation then, about Goldie acting harshly and her knowledge of Evelyn’s capture. Some of it Caius already knew, but he hates the crack in Evelyn’s voice when she tells it.
“I’m so sorry, love,” he says. They have been ordered not to behave in any inappropriate manner, which includes all forms of physical contact. That rule doesn’t stop him from taking her hand under the table.
She smiles, but a tear glistens in her eye. “It’s all right. I have other news. I met Leo’s father today.”
Just the name is enough to boil Caius’ blood. “Ah, he’s the court wizard, isn’t he?”
“Yes, and he’s actually quite a nice man. Aaaand, he needs an assistant.”
“You’re going to assist Leo’s father?”
“No, you are.”
Caius lets out a single, humourless laugh. “Not on my life.”
Evelyn drops her voice to a whisper. “Think of it—you’ll have inside information on how they’re planning on attacking Tarreth. Just today he was concocting some kind of poison that would turn dragon’s blood blue.”
“What?”
“Don’t you want to get out of those mucky gardens and do something you like?”
“I hate magic.”
“But it’s plants. You know everything about plants.”
Caius rolls his eyes. “I suppose.”
“Think about it. It’s something.”
“I know something too,” Caius says. “I overheard that Krassis is heading to Tarreth to speak with the Chancellor in person. If he goes with Ilvara, we can ask to escort them. Then, we can threaten him and force him to write Ilvara into his will before we kill him.”
Evelyn chews her lip. She often does that when she is having doubts about something.
“What?” he asks her.
“Ilvara is getting attached to Krassis. She keeps calling him by his first name. And we had a conversation today that did not go well.”
“Really? What about?”
A man across the table interrupts them. “Excuse me, are you two going to whisper all night? You’re very distracting.”
Evelyn turns to him. “Why? Does it bother you?”
“You two are still on probation. Do you want me to alert the guards?”
“No,” Caius says, before Evelyn has a chance to retaliate. “We’ll stop. Apologies.”
The man worked with Caius this afternoon. He’s been sour all week, ever since he was rejected by one of the castle maids. Caius finally starts eating his supper while his mind works to anticipate what the conversation was about. Whenever he can’t talk to Evelyn at supper, they usually meet in a storage room by the stairs before bedtime, while the guards change shifts.
Evelyn eyes him, then addresses the woman next to her. “I’ve run out of parchment in my room again. You told me where it was before, but I’ve forgotten.”
The older woman sighs. “I’ve told you twice now, girl. On the second floor, through the hallway by the horse statue. At the end of the hall, there’s a storage room with extra parchment, quills, and other desk supplies. Shall I draw you a map?”
“No,” Evelyn says. She turns back to her food, one hand playing with her golden braid. “I think we all could find it now.”
Caius nods in understanding and takes another bite of ham.
After supper is finished, the dishes cleared, the tables cleaned, and the candles put out, Caius breaks away from the place he was told to stand while the guards switch. He rushes up the stairs, down the hallway, and into the door at the end of the hall.
Evelyn gasps as he enters. “You startled me.”
“Quickly now, what happened with Ilvara?”
“She speaks of Krassis in a kind way. She is growing fond of Esterden. She went on and on about the hopelessness of regaining Lockmire, or of Tarreth winning the war. She says its armies are too small, and we have the dragons. Something has come over her.”
Caius tries to think fast. “We do have the dragons, but I can control them, too. I can command them away, so they don’t interfere. Or if I do assist Leo’s father, I can find out what Esterden plans to do with them. We can’t very well have them attack Tarreth.”
“What if they attack Esterden?”
“No. Ardellon will be a pile of soot if the dragons stay involved. We need to take them out of the web. You saw what happened to Lockmire.”
Evelyn nods, rubbing her temples. “There’s so much to figure out. And we have no idea what Asher is doing, or if he even made it to Tarreth.”
Caius touches her shoulder. “Try not to trouble yourself. Today was taxing, but a new day will dawn. Let’s wait on news about Krassis’ travel plans. Once he’s dead and Ilvara owns Lockmire, the rest will come easier.”
“I’m starting to think that Ilvara doesn’t even want Lockmire back. She seems so happy here.”
“How? She wasn’t very happy in Lockmire, and that was a marriage she chose.”
“I don’t know. I don’t know what’s going on. And what about the bandits? What if they attack when Krassis is dead?”
“We’ll escape with Ilvara back to Tarreth. Their armies are enough to snuff out the bandits. Tarreth can take Esterden for themselves, and Ilvara will take Lockmire.”
Evelyn leans back against a shelf. “Going to war was easier when all I had to do was hold a sword and stay on my feet.”
Caius brushes his knuckles against her scarred cheek. “With you alive, the battle is so much easier.”
She smiles up at him. He leans down, taking her face in his hands. Gently, he lays a kiss against her lips. He’s missed her so much. He hasn’t kissed her in days.
“We have to go,” she says softly.
Caius sighs. “I know.”
Evelyn stretches up on her tip-toes and kisses him again. “I hate to leave. I hate that we can never see each other.”
“Someday, this will all be a memory. We’ll be together, and I’ll get to kiss you every day.”
Evelyn smiles at him. “I’ll hold you to that.”
Reluctantly, Caius opens the storage room door.
A guard turns, bewildered. “What are you doing up here?”
Caius closes the door mostly, so that Evelyn is hidden behind him. “Getting parchment.” He flexes his fingers behind the door. Evelyn shoves a stack of parchment into his hand. He shows it to the guard and shuts the door behind him. “Evelyn said she wanted some.”
“She has plenty in her room. Get downstairs.” The guard shoves him toward the stairs, muttering something derogatory about Lockmire folk.
That night, Caius writes a letter to Asher, asking if he returned safely, how Alesia is doing, and telling him that he and Evelyn are working for Ilvara. In case it will be read by any of the guards, Caius keeps the letter brief. It will settle some of Evelyn’s anxieties to know that things are all right in Tarreth. He addresses it to the Sanctuary of Herus. Hopefully, he is still there. For good measure, he writes Asher’s name on the outside as well.
In bed, his mind rushes with more planning. Strategies, backups, maneuvers. Despite Krassis’ pleasant manner, the austerity of castle life is difficult for Caius to bear, and even more difficult to watch with Evelyn. Perhaps assisting Leo’s father would be a good thing. It might give him access to secret information like Evelyn said; that is, if Lord Krassis even allows it.
But this cannot distract them from the task at hand. Lockmire is still without a proper garrison, and he’s heard of no plans to rebuild it. So many families are without food or shelter. Something must be done, and without Krassis’ death, nothing can be fixed.
It seems ages before he can fall asleep.
Chapter 30
Old Friend
Priscilla yawns as she picks up a scrap of parchment on the floor of the main worship hall. She groans as she does, rubbing the sore spot on her back. Asher walks in through the Sanctuary door, dressed in a deep blue, sleeveless doublet over his pale shirt.
“Good morning
,” she says, blinking at him. “New clothes?”
“Yes. It’s a new fashion, I suppose, to pair dark and light. Do you like it?” He twists around, showing her the back and sides. The stitch-work is beautiful.
As are his arms and back…
“It’s nice,” Priscilla says, turning away.
“You look tired. How late were you at Genevieve’s?”
“She wanted the walkway cleared of weeds before I left,” Priscilla says with a sigh. “I stayed a few hours after sundown.”
Asher shakes his head. He scans the hall around him before meeting her eyes again. His are especially green today. “I wish you’d let me help you.”
“We’ve had this conversation a thousand times, Asher,” she says. “You can help me ready the hall for worship.”
With a sigh, he straightens the benches. Priscilla wipes the wooden stand where Gabriel will be speaking just as Anna descends the stairs.
“Good morning, Anna,” says Priscilla.
Anna nods once. “Good morning.”
Priscilla and Asher continue tidying up the hall as worshippers arrive. An elderly woman greets them. Priscilla leads her by the hand to her seat. Asher indicates the row in front to the pair of fishermen from the Kalpine docks who’ve been coming faithfully. At last, Asher and Priscilla take seats near the front.
“Byron and Alston are back,” Asher whispers to her.
“I noticed.” Priscilla eyes the men in front of them. They once used Solisdie to intoxicate themselves after a long week loading and unloading crates from ships. Now, they sit with straight backs and listening ears, their hair washed and combed, their weathered hands folded in their laps, drinking in the hope and purpose Herus gives them.
Alesia exits the kitchen with watered wine to refresh those who have come. Priscilla watches as she speaks with a couple of girls who started coming the week after her baptism. It’s so good to see her getting back on her feet.
She shuts her eyes for a moment amidst the rumble of morning conversation. Despite the exhaustion plaguing her, it is good to be in Herus’ house. The atmosphere alone refreshes her spirit.
Of Embers Page 27