by K.N. Lee
With a tolerant laugh, Gilly allowed her niece’s play, glad the uncomfortable conversation had ended. The girl scrambled up and chased after the kid, which took off up a hill.
Skye waved to indicate she would meet her at the top and tore off at a run before Gilly could argue. That girl had too much energy. Skye scooted up a rocky portion as if she were a goat herself, her gaze firmly planted on the kid that watched her with cool insolence from the top.
Gilly forced her lame leg to move faster as she climbed after them.
A scream sliced the still air.
Skye! Gilly jerked her gaze upward. The kid was on the hill but not her niece. She cursed her leg as she hurried up the rise. “I’m coming.”
The moment she reached the top, the kid raced off toward the rest of the herd. On the other side was a sharp drop some forty feet to the ground. The girl clung to a branch of a dead oak. That weak branch wouldn’t hold her long. She must have slipped, unprepared for the hill to abruptly drop off.
"Help!" Skye cried.
"I'm here." Fear for Skye’s safety, combined with her fear of heights, made Gilly nauseous. The contents of her stomach roiled. Calm down! This was no time to be ill. Skye needed her. The girl was too far down from this crest for Gilly to reach, even with her walking stick. She looked for other means of getting to the girl.
If she tried to go down, she would probably fall, just as Skye had. If she went back to the village, it might be too late by the time she returned with help.
"My hands are slipping." Panic was clear in Skye's high-pitched voice.
"Hold on." Gilly's stomach did another turn, threatening to empty her breakfast over the ledge. Her head swam. As if in a bizarre nightmare, she pictured Skye smashing into the rocks below, limbs twisting and cracking.
Breathe! Think! She must save Skye. Can't let her fall.
The dry branch cracked. Skye screamed and fell.
Instinctively, Gilly reached out. “Halt that fall! Come wind, come leaves, cradle my girl, lift her up and bring her back to me.”
Shimmering Light surrounded Skye. She hovered midair, her body limp. Slowly a breeze stirred the droplets of Light surrounding the child. Fallen leaves rose from the ground to cradle Skye and then lifted her higher to gently place her on Gilly’s outstretched arms.
"Gilly," Skye said, awakening. "What happened?"
"I have you. You are safe."
Skye stared at Gilly quizzically and then said, “You can put me down, now.”
Startled, she realized she stood carrying her niece’s weight equally on both her legs. She knelt to set Skye down. Her lame leg felt as strong as the other. Before she could ponder that physical oddity, Gilly heard the sound she dreaded most. Hooves pounded. Swords clashed. Horses snorted. She swung around expecting to see the King’s Horsemen.
The plains were empty of riders. Her goats watched from below, curious but unconcerned. But Gilly had just performed magic. High magic.
The signs were everywhere. The grass looked greener. A glance over the cliff showed the old oak in full leaf, as if it had never died. The air itself thrummed as if excited. How could this not be detected? The horsemen would come. They always did when someone wielded High Magic in Ryca. How much time did her family have to escape? She must warn Anna. Time for them to flee again.
Gilly’s sides were aching from running back to the village, but her niece looked as if nothing were the matter. As if she hadn’t dropped off a cliff and almost died. As if she hadn’t raced ahead and sped back a dozen times to hurry Gilly along.
Worried Skye might tell someone Gilly had saved her life, she had warned the girl to keep mum. Skye had reluctantly agreed. The fact Gilly planned to return to the village with her seemed to make up for that disappointment.
Thankfully, the goats, too, obeyed Gilly and ran without argument or need for coaxing. However, the race to the village gave time for other worries to poke at Gilly. The change in her surroundings for a start.
Where use of high magic had blossomed the area around Skye’s fall, the closer they drew to Nadym, the worse the countryside looked, as if a wave of dark magic had swept the land. Everywhere there was charred grass, dead trees and overhead, thunderclouds gathered.
If that wasn’t enough for concern, she was also anxious about what to tell Anna. She couldn’t talk about the magic she’d performed. Use of any kind of magic was forbidden all across Ryca and her sister was more likely to turn her in than run away with her. Nor was Gilly comfortable revealing their true relationship to her sister. Anna simply wouldn’t believe her. Yet, somehow, she had to convince her sister and her family to leave Nadym.
Just as Gilly and Skye arrived at the village, the first drops of rain splashed her cheeks.
“Look at everyone,” Skye said. “Wonder what’s going on?”
The place teemed with not only villagers, but also men on horseback. Gilly’s worst nightmare had come to life.
In green capes and black armor, the King’s Horsemen were everywhere.
Breathless, Gilly stumbled to a halt. Her face went icy cold as if blood had drained off in a rush. Despite spending years being careful, avoiding people, refusing to use any hint of High Magic, the King’s Horsemen were here. They had come to the backwater village of Nadym because she had used magic.
She absently touched Skye’s head. But how else could she have saved Skye?
I should have watched her better. Told her to be careful. Made her go home. This happened because I let down my guard. Allowed people to get close. I knew better!
Gilly couldn’t shut off the self-recriminations, but she did pull Skye behind a house before either of them was spotted.
Turning to the goats, she spoke firmly. “Home! Go. Go. Go.”
The goats scampered away toward her shack.
“Look, there’s my mama!” Skye pointed.
Pulse racing, Gilly peered around the corner.
At the far edge of the crowd, Anna’s blond head bobbed up as she repeatedly leaped, trying to see past everyone.
Foolish woman, stay down! Gilly took hold of Skye’s arm, and they worked their way into the heart of the village, hiding in alleyways and between animal pens at the back of houses. Every time Gilly checked on Anna, her sister seemed to have made more headway, working through the crowd. Ignoring grunts and curses, her sister finally broke into a central clearing and came face-to-face with a horseman.
Gilly groaned and shut her eyes. She couldn’t watch.
Skye found a crate to stand on for a better view.
Gilly joined her on another. If she was to save Anna, she needed to know exactly what was happening. Just their luck that was not just any horseman Anna had stumbled into. His darker green cape indicated he was the captain. A black metal patch covered one eye. He gazed at Anna with disdain.
“What’s going on?” Skye sounded more animated than alarmed.
“Those are King’s Horsemen, and they’re here for your mam.”
“What do you mean?”
“Shhh! Not now.”
The rain had started to fall in earnest but the street remained crowded. The villagers probably had never seen this much activity and they weren’t about to miss any of it because of an inconvenient summer shower.
Anna, apologizing, stepped away from the captain and onto the toes of Vyan, the village chief. He stoically moved her behind him and with an ingratiating smile to the captain, said, “Perhaps we should conduct our business indoors? Away from the um, rain, yes?”
His backwards glance at Anna suggested she should be avoided as much as the downpour.
Gilly could have kissed the man for separating Anna from the captain but she was also worried. Vyan wasn’t Anna’s closest ally in Nadym. Ever since her sister rejected his marriage offer and instead chose Marton, the village blacksmith, Vyan had held a grudge against her. Gilly didn’t care for the idea of him speaking privately with a King’s Horseman who’d no doubt ask about children who might have come here twenty odd
years ago.
The captain frowned at Anna over Vyan’s short stout shoulders, pausing long enough to make Gilly gulp with fear. Finally, he nodded assent.
Air rushed out of Gilly’s lungs in profound relief.
Vyan led the captain away while the horsemen dismounted in a clatter of metal on metal.
“We have to get your mam away from here,” Gilly whispered to Skye and then stepped off the crate. Her leg began to ache. Curse the rain.
“She won’t like that,” Skye said. “This is something mama knows that Lissa doesn’t. She’ll want to stop and tell her.”
Lissa, her sister’s confidant and fellow gossipmonger. “There is no more time for village chit chat. Run home and tell your papa that I said all of you must leave Nadym.”
“Leave? To go where?”
“Anywhere but here, Skye. These horsemen mean to harm your family. Run home and tell your papa your family must leave.” She gave instructions to get her father and brother packed and to a secluded cowshed north of the village. “I’ll bring your mam. Hurry!”
Gilly then wove her way into the crowd until she came up behind Anna. Her niece might be easy to convince, but Anna not so much. Deciding to go the no-explanation route, Gilly took an iron-fisted hold on her sister’s arm and pulled her away.
Villagers scrambled aside as she dragged her sister to the outskirts of the crowd. Luckily, Anna was at first too stunned to make a fuss. Soon enough though, she dug in her heels and pulled back, hard, and their headlong rush came to a jarring halt.
"How dare you!"
Gilly checked her surroundings. They were well away from the horsemen. Still, she stepped closer before whispering, “We have to leave. Now.”
Anna pushed her away, incensed. "First, you lure my daughter from her family -- I know she was with you today, Lissa told me Skye was headed in your direction -- and now you drag me through the village when I have important business to attend. This is the last time you'll interfere with me or mine, Gilly, I promise you."
Skye ran up to her mother and tugged at her sleeve. "Mama, you have to listen to Gilly. You’re in danger."
Gilly could have cried. Why hadn’t the child gone home to start packing?
"Don't talk to me about danger. You're in enough trouble.” With heat rising up her face, Anna looked like a pot boiling over. “Go home and start on the vegetables."
"Mama, please. It's important."
Anna cut her off. "Enough, Skye."
"Your mother’s right,” Gilly said with a sigh and nodded to Skye. “Time she and I talked. Go home. You know what to do."
Skye glanced from her mother to Gilly, and then, with a frustrated cry, sped off.
Gilly turned back to Anna only to find her sister was even more livid. Now what?
“That will be the last time you tell my daughter what to do.” Thunder rumbled overhead.
The wind, which had subsided, picked up, blowing Gilly's red hair about her face. The coincidence between Anna’s temper and the worsening weather wasn’t lost on Gilly. Unconscious magic was more powerful and uncontrollable than manipulating the Light. She hoped it was less traceable. Then a way to get Anna to listen became clear. "You have your papa's temper."
Her sister looked shocked and confused.
Anna hated her label of “bastard,” given to her long before she'd learned to milk a cow. So, hearing she had her papa’s temper, which suggested Gilly knew who that man was, wouldn’t be overlooked. Gaining information about her parentage could erase the bastard label and give Anna the finest accolade possible in a village where lineage was highly prized – a family tree.
Leaving her sister sputtering in shock, Gilly spun and headed home. She had a small cottage on the outskirts of the village, located half way between Nadym and where Anna and Marton lived. Sooner they got away from these horsemen the better. She had lots to do and little time to waste. A check over her shoulder confirmed Anna followed. Good.
Once inside her home, Gilly stuffed clothing and food into an old knapsack, the same one she had carried when she left her mam’s cottage with baby Anna in her arms. Long ago, she’d lost too many loved ones. This time, they would either all escape together, or perish together.
“Maa.” One of her goats cried the warning. Her sister had arrived. Took her long enough.
Anna lingered by Gilly’s open doorway as if afraid to step into the Madwoman of Nadym’s home. “For someone with a gimpy leg, you move pretty quick.”
“I’ve learned that allowing my deformity to slow me can cost lives.”
“Why must you say such outlandish things?” Her sister’s voice was peppered with frustration. “I’ve known you all my life. You’ve never been in danger. The villagers treat you well. When have you ever had to run for your life?”
“I had a life before Nadym.”
That quieted Anna. She strolled around the room, her gaze following Gilly’s movements.
“That pack will split before you're done," Anna said.
The sack did look ready to fall apart at the slightest wind, but it would have to do. Gilly bent by the fireplace, lifted a loose stone and dug within for the coins she’d squirreled away for this emergency. She’d expected the horsemen to find her every day for the last twenty years.
Jingling bag in hand, she faced her sister and was taken aback. Anna looked just like Mam. Straight, blond hair, strong, determined face, brooding eyes full of worries, and a no-nonsense manner.
Anna gave up on small talk. "What did you mean about my papa’s temper?"
"Exactly what I said." Gilly tucked the money in a belt under her dress and picked up the knapsack. She avoided looking straight at Anna in case she was tempted to hug her. That would surely spell disaster.
Anna ran to bar the door. "You're leaving the village?"
"We're leaving."
"I'm not going anywhere, Gilly. Now, what makes you think you know my papa?"
Gilly took a breath brimming with dread. She'd known this day would come. She had expected to feel a little intimidated. Not have her guts twist like a washerwoman wringing out clothes. Spit it out. "Your mam used to say your papa had quite a temper. But this once you must put aside your curiosity and think about what's best for your family."
“How could you possibly know any of this?”
"I was the one who left you at the temple. It had been my job and privilege to watch over you and keep you safe."
She cringed at the half-truth. But safer this way. Less chance she’d blame Gilly for deserting her. Better demeaned as a servant than hated as a sibling who abandoned her.
"Why not say this before?" Anna demanded with suspicion. “Explain yourself!”
Gilly gazed past her sister and out the open door. Any moment a horseman could appear there. "I left you to keep you safe. Admitting our connection would have put you in danger from the King’s Horsemen. But they've tracked us down anyway.” She shied from mentioning magic. Like the other villagers, Anna might condemn the practice of the ancient craft as illegal. She probably didn’t even realize she was capable of shaping Light. Finish this.
Gilly spoke tersely; getting the words out before her throat closed too tight or a horseman came by to slit it. "Your family is the enemy of King Ywen. A blood feud. I was your...keeper, charged with your safety. The king had your father killed first and then one summer later, the horsemen discovered your mother, brother, and sister." Her voice cracked and her next words came out in a hoarse whisper. "Only we escaped because I didn't return to help the others."
Anna sucked in her breath.
Gilly avoided her sister’s critical gaze. The haunting deed was etched in blood in Gilly’s soul, one she wasn’t ready to elaborate.
“Maybe they’re still alive.” Hope vibrated in Anna’s voice.
Gilly looked up then, and spoke with authority, slaughtering that particular idea in its path. She wasn’t about to let hope fester in Anna like an open wound that never healed. How many nights had she lain awa
ke hoping her mother hadn’t perished? That she was out there looking for her and Anna? Hope was for fools.
“They’re dead, Anna. Your mam loved you very much. If she were alive, she would never have stopped looking for you.” For us. She finished with, "Now the horsemen have come to Nadym, we must leave."
"No." Anna crossed her arms.
Gilly’s mind rocked at her sister’s adamant stance. “But…”
Anna waved a dismissive hand. "I only have your word for any of this."
Gilly leaned forward. "The horsemen are real enough. You’ve seen them yourself."
"So what? I’m not afraid of them.” Anna stared directly at her. “I’m not a coward. And I have nothing to be ashamed of. I was a baby at the time. What could the king possibly hold against a newborn?”
Terrible unease built up in Gilly at Anna’s cool reasoning. She didn’t care what sins she was responsible for; she would not sanction another family tragedy. What would it take to make Anna listen to sense?
"Maybe the king isn't looking to finish me off,” Anna said. “Maybe he's searching because he knew my family and they were friends. Perhaps he wants to offer a grant in memory of my parents. And you've prevented him from finding me for all these years."
Finding her jaw hanging open in stunned disbelief, Gilly shut her mouth with a snap. Frustration burned a hole in her midsection and she spoke through clenched teeth. "Anna, he wants to kill you, not give you a present."
Then dread raced up her back as one of her perimeter spells activated. Someone was coming.
A woman’s voice called Anna’s name.
“It’s Lissa,” Anna said with joy.
Gilly grabbed for her and missed as her sister hurried out the door. She had no choice but to follow, searching the area for any sign of a green cape.
Lissa, a plump young woman of Anna’s age, grabbed her friend by her shoulders. "You'll never believe this. I came straight away to find you.” She spotted Gilly then, and her flow of words halted. “What are you doing here with her? I almost didn’t believe it when a villager said they’d seen you come this way.”