by K.N. Lee
So that’s why her sister hadn’t run away when Gilly used magic. She, too, could work Light. My Anna is a healer. How long had her sister known about her ability? Had she confessed to anyone? Knowing how the villagers felt about magic, she suspected Anna would have rarely used her talent, and then not told anyone, perhaps not even Marton.
She was doubly glad of her wards now. If Anna drew the horsemen to them tonight, Gilly would be warned. Would it be in time to escape?
After tending to Tom, she, too, lay down beside her family and hugged herself. Somehow, despite the danger, finding out about Anna’s ability made her feel less lonely.
After two breaks to take her turn at watch, Gilly awoke at daybreak bleary eyed and anxious to leave. The quicker they sped from this cowherd’s shed, the happier she’d be.
Bevan rode the white stallion while Marton gently laid Tom behind him. Belly down and secured in place, he wouldn’t fall off. Everyone else took to the track on foot.
Skye, who’d never gone past the fields where Gilly grazed her goats, repeatedly brought over an unusual colored flower or a long-tailed scaly thing her mother refused to stroke no matter how hard Skye begged.
Gilly, used to solitude, was tempted to go on ahead, but she needed to warn her sister about the danger of arbitrarily using magic, even for as good a cause as helping Tom. As it was, her neck ached from continuously checking behind to see if that illegal draw on Light last night had set the horsemen on their trail. So far, the answer to that concern was no. But she had to warn Anna to be more careful. Raising that taboo subject with her entire family within earshot was a problem.
The family traveled clustered together for several miles, fear acting like a corral. But after a few hours, with no sign of active pursuit, Skye began to wander, only to run back to report on her findings. When she dragged Marton to show him her latest discovery, Bevan slid off the horse to follow and the stallion took that moment of inattention to munch on grass. Anna, too, stopped and bent to stretch her legs.
Gilly seized on her only opportunity since they left to be alone with her sister. “Anna, we must talk.”
“About what?”
“Magic.”
Anna met her gaze. “What about it?”
“While I appreciate what you did for Tom, never do it again.”
Anna met her gaze with wariness. “Because magic is evil?”
“Magic is not evil.”
“Then what is it?”
Other than the basics, Mam had said little about the forbidden art; probably afraid her little ones might be tempted to practice and thus draw the horsemen to them. So most of what Gilly understood about magic, she had learned from watching what happened after she cast a spell.
“Few people can work Light, which is the source of all life,” Gilly said, starting at the basics. “There are two types of Light practice. High Magic draws power directly from the Light. The other is Hearth Magic, which are minor spells. Anyone who has a bit of inherent talent, strong belief and after much practice can set warning wards. I do that often to warn me of intruders. Or to heal wounds or find water. Hearth Magic merely tweaks what’s already present in the natural world, it doesn’t transform it like High Magic,.”
“High Magic affects the world?”
“Yes, whenever I’ve cast a High Magic spell, everything around me changes.”
“How?”
“The land grows lush. Dead plants come back to life.”
“That doesn’t happen when I heal.”
“What you do is Hearth Magic, but on a grander scale than any I’ve witnessed. You didn’t just nudge a body’s healing process along; you healed Tom’s wounds. Also, for all that they decry use of magic, I believe the horsemen, too, cast spells. But their enchantment scorches and burns the earth.” Gilly’s fists clenched. “Their magic doesn’t enhance the world, it destroys it.”
“So that’s what caused the destruction around Nadym.” She came closer. “When have you used High Magic, Gilly? Was it when you made those pigs, sheep and chickens scatter?”
“Yes.” There was a better example. Gilly’s stomach trembled at mentioning how Skye had almost died while in her care. It had to be done, though. Whatever the fallout with her sister, Anna must understand the consequences of using High Magic. “The day before we left Nadym, Skye tumbled off a cliff.”
“What?” Hands on her chest, Anna checked on Skye squatting on the ground examining something with Bevan and her father. The murderous light in her little sister’s eyes when she turned had Gilly stumbling backwards as she blurted out her story. “Skye was chasing a goat on the cliffs. Then she fell over and the branch of a dead tree she clung to cracked.”
Anna sucked in her breath and grabbed Gilly’s forearms. “What happened then?”
Gilly ignored the nails digging into her skin. “I cast a spell to stop her fall. Leaves gathered to cushion her, and bring her back up into my arms. Shortly after, that dead tree looked lush and alive. But the consequence to using High Magic, Anna, is the horsemen can trace its use. That’s why they arrived in Nadym moments after.”
Anna released her, leaving behind curved white dents along Gilly’s arms where nails had dug in.
Oddly, Anna seemed more thoughtful than furious. “So the horsemen can trace a High Magic user with speed, but not precision? And they can’t detect hearth magic at all?”
Gilly blinked at her sister’s quick and accurate assessment. But this abrupt turn in conversation brought them to the very point she wanted to make. “Thank you for what you did with Tom, but I’m not sure which category of magic it falls under, so you should avoid doing it again, just in case.”
“There weren’t any changes to the land around the cowherd’s shed. So it might be as harmless as your wards.”
“With children nearby, can we take that chance?” Gilly asked.
Anna nodded. “You’re right. I’ve only ever healed little cuts and scratches before this. Tom’s wounds were severe and healing them left me exhausted. Afterwards, even though I was worried about the horsemen, I slept like a baby. It’s possible the horsemen sensed what I did but didn’t find us before we left. It’s too risky to heal again. I won’t do it. I promise. Let’s hope I won’t need to.”
Skye ran over then to show her mother a long-legged spider. “Mama, isn’t it pretty?”
Not daunted by the crawly insect, Anna pulled Skye into a tight hug. “It’s beautiful.”
The stallion’s clip clop drew Gilly’s gaze backward. Tom, draped over the horse, had been close enough to overhear her confession. But his body was motionless, suggesting he was asleep, or unconscious. She breathed a sigh of relief and rubbed her sore arms before facing her sister. There were tears in Anna’s eyes as she hugged Skye. For all their fighting, Anna adored her daughter.
Wanting to give mother and daughter privacy, Gilly pressed on. She had said her piece and, hard to believe, Anna had agreed with her concerns.
Before her third step, her sister called out. “Gilly!”
Should have known that agreement came too easily. Shoulders stiff and ready for the next blow, she turned back. “Yes?”
“Thank you.” Two words never sounded so heartfelt.
Gilly’s eyes stung and a glow warmed her chest as she nodded and left. She passed Marton and Bevan who were waiting for Anna and Skye. She avoided Marton’s curious gaze, and winked at Bevan. The boy gave a shy grin and ducked behind his father.
Once alone, Gilly hugged herself to contain her joy. It was happening. Anna is starting to like me.
Three days later, they camped by the foothills bordering the Kocheya Basin. Gilly took turn at watch. After a circuit to ensure her wards were active, she found a suitable log to rest on and stared at the third sister riding high over the desert in her half-moon form.
Although they planned to skirt this barren land, not delve into it, being this close to dunes raised goose bumps on Gilly’s arms. Having lived most of her life in rich pasturelands within
walking distance to lakes and rivers, the idea of entering this vast wasteland terrified her as much as encountering King’s Horsemen. Surely not even the mythical, magical Erovians that Marton spoke of could survive deep in this parched landscape.
She was pondering the wisdom of their continued trek in the morning, when the hairs on the back of her neck tingled. Someone had triggered a ward. She jumped up and her left leg protested. In a rush to warn the others, she ignored that sharp stab of pain and limped through the brush.
She’d placed her wards about a hundred feet from the campsite, far enough she’d thought at the time, but now this intruder might be closer than that. She should have spread those warning charms farther out to give her family more time to flee.
She woke Marton first. He shook his wife awake and while Anna hid the children behind a large boulder, Gilly accompanied Marton to investigate the “noise” she had heard.
They left Tom lying on his stomach with a wool blanket covering him head to toe. If he were lucky, he would be taken for dead and left unharmed.
Up ahead, a horse nickered. A soft voice promised the animal a treat. Gilly and Marton crouched behind a wide bush. A few feet away, a man was brushing his horse. His cloak was black, not horsemen green, though it was hard to be certain of in the semi-dark. The absence of sword was reassuring. He was also apparently alone.
“A scout?” Marton whispered.
“The doublet, hose and boots speak of a guild.”
He nodded. “Likely a traveling merchant.”
“Our luck he chose to camp so close to us.”
“I’ll approach and speak with him,” Marton said. “Best we know who he is.”
She placed a hand on his forearm. “Be careful. Anna will never forgive me if you are hurt.”
He nodded acknowledgement, gave a reassuring pat on her back and strode toward the stranger.
The two men spoke and then Marton gestured toward their camp. He then waved Gilly over.
She stayed put. Had he lost his mind?
“Gilly,” he said. “Come. This is Cullen, a minstrel. He’s familiar with the territory we’re heading into.”
She leaned back on her heels, mouth agape. Had he told this intruder where they were going?
“Come,” he said again.
Now they’d done it. Their trip was surely cursed. First they were forced to go on the run, then they chose in all familial wisdom to go directly toward the very man they should be running from, and, now, Marton had taken a perfect stranger, who could very well be in King Ywen's employ, as a bosom friend. They might as well turn themselves over to the horsemen now and save the agony of the hunt.
“Marton,” Anna said from behind her.
Her sister waved and sprinted toward them, all smiles, golden hair streaming behind her in waves. “Is he a friend?”
Of course, why bother to hide when it’s so much easier to get caught out in the open?
Skye crouched beside Gilly, Bevan a shadow in the darkness of his sister’s skirts. “I tried to stop her but she wouldn’t listen,” the young girl said. “She never listens.”
Gilly gave the children a comforting hug. “We’d best see what we can salvage from this. Keep your wits about you in case we need to save your parents from themselves.”
The children nodded and the trio slowly approached the stranger. He was a thin man of medium build, with what was left of his gray hair receding toward the crown. His clean narrow face had close-set eyes, which looked guarded under the moonlight. His hooked nose, like a vulture’s beak, shadowed thin lips that appeared a stranger to smiles. Hardly worthy of such trust at first meeting.
When she drew close enough, he switched his attention from saluting Anna to greeting Gilly.
“These are my children, Skye and Bevan,” her sister said, “and this is our servant, Gilly.”
Anna poked her in the ribs and gestured for her to take care of Cullen’s horse. Gilly gritted her teeth at that instruction but had no one to blame but herself. She was the one who shied from admitting they were sisters. The day for that talk would come soon enough.
Cullen took out a brush from his saddle and gave it to Gilly with a courtly bow. He believed her a servant but still treated her with respect. Her estimation of this stranger improved as he accompanied Anna to camp.
Skye pulled at Gilly’s sleeve.
Gilly was intent on Cullen’s retreat.
Skye tugged insistently at her sleeve.
Gilly pushed her away. “What, Skye? What’s so important it can’t wait for two breaths?”
“You sound like mama,” Skye said. “I thought you were different. That you liked me.”
Gilly blinked in surprise. I snapped at Skye. Why? Absently, she corrected her niece. “Your Mam loves you.” She gave the girl a hug. “Come, help me brush this mount.”
The child nodded agreement.
The mare was hot and lathered as if from hard riding. Cullen must have been in a hurry. “Skye.”
“Yes, Gilly?”
“What do you think of this stranger?”
“He smiles only with his mouth,” her niece said. “His eyes are strange.”
“Angry,” Bevan said.
How strange. Even more odd was that the quiet child had spoken. “He didn’t look angry to me, Bevan. Are you sure?”
The little boy gave a solemn nod.
Gilly finished with the mare and then sat on the ground, calling the children to her. She ripped a thread from the bottom of her skirt and tearing it in two, she tied one around each of the children’s ankles, moving their hose out of the way until the thread touched skin. She mumbled a chant under her breath as she worked. Her fingers tingled when they smoothed the thread down.
“It feels warm,” Skye said, touching it tentatively.
“Hot,” Bevan affirmed, pulling a face.
“It’ll cool in time. Don’t take it off unless you tell me first. It’s there to protect you against harmful magic.”
“Lissa says all magic is evil,” Skye said.
“Magic is like a hunter’s knife, Skye,” Gilly said. “Treated with the right heat it can help heal an infected wound, or slice open a deeper one. It depends on who wields it, and for what purpose. Now, return to camp. If you notice anything else odd about Cullen, come find me. Fast.”
With trepidation, she watched them leave. A dangerous task to set for little ones. She set off to strengthen her wards and spread them further out on the off chance their next visitors wore green capes and carried swords.
Chapter 4
Once Marton took over Gilly’s watch, she returned to camp to rest. Anna whispered to her that they explained away Tom’s silent restfulness as an injured companion recovering from a fall from a horse. Cullen was a lone figure on the smoldering fire’s far side. Wisely, none in her family strayed closer to him.
Marton tapped her shoulder. Her turn again. He cuddled next to his wife and slipped an arm over Anna’s waist. Gilly checked on Tom lying between her and the children, his head moving side to side as if restless dreams bothered him.
Positioning her body so Cullen wouldn’t see what she did, Gilly slipped a primed ward into Tom’s hand and closed his fingers around it. Before she could withdraw, he tightened his hold on her, trapping her to his side. Her pulse jumped, half startled, half delighted. A quick check, however, showed his eyes were shut. In moments, his fingers relaxed, releasing her.
Her stroll around the perimeter this time was in an oddly happier frame of mind. Her fingers tingled where Tom had clutched them.
Within moments, the soft pad of two sets of small footsteps suggested that Skye and Bevan had slept as restlessly as she. The three of them had circuited halfway around the camp when the clatter of hooves had them crouching in fear.
“Another visitor?” Skye whispered.
“Shhh.” Had they picked a trade route intersection for their campsite? More travelers seemed to pass by here than in the entire village of Nadym.
T
his stranger stopped twenty paces from where Cullen’s mare rested near a tree. “Ho there. I come in peace and ask for traveler’s courtesy.”
The man’s deep voice and clank of chainmaille sent fear shooting up Gilly’s back. He’d made a perfectly legitimate claim so she had to reply. The only reason not to respond would be if she were a thief or fugitive. Both were true.
She finally said, “Who are you?”
Her question was greeted by silence. Well, she’d taken long enough to answer, so he had a right to think before responding.
“My name is Talus.” His voice held a note of amusement. “And who be you, missus?”
“I be armed,” Gilly said, “and not shy of using my weapon. Please step away from your mount and come forward, arms raised, if indeed you come in peace.”
A loud burst of laughter greeted that request. “If you are a robber,” Talus said, “you have polite manners. My experience tells me those two characteristics within one female are unlikely, so I’ll assume you are merely cautious. A wise act in these troubled times.”
He slid off his horse and strode forward, arms extended to the moonlight. He wore a shirt of interlocking black rings over a leather tunic. A black metal helmet shaped like a dolphin sat snugly on his head. Over leggings, hard leather greaves protected shins from harm.
As Talus came closer, Bevan breathed, “Oohh.”
This man was indeed impressive, even more than the white stallion the boy had last “oohed” and “aahed” over.
Talus removed his helmet and bowed respectfully to the bush they hid behind. Above a full moustache, the prominent bridge of his nose separated wide set, twinkling blue eyes. Thick eyebrows and blond hair flattened by his helmet bordered a smooth wide forehead. A handsome face.
Gilly tried to fit Talus into a familiar mold she could hang a label on but he was nothing like Marton or any other hardworking Nadym villager of her acquaintance. Nor did he resemble a needlessly cruel King’s Horseman.
If anything, this man came closest to Tom, whose touch could make Gilly’s heart thump erratically. Except Talus was unhurt, supremely fit and didn’t appear to be haunted by demons that drove the other man to drink.