The Silver Gate
Page 6
The sights and sounds of the market were overwhelming, and Elric felt buffeted on every side by people. He pushed through the crowd. They had to make it to the cloister before nightfall. Once they found the north gate, then it would be easy to find the right road and the crowds would thin. Colorful flags of woven cloth fluttered on long ropes strung between the windows of the tilting buildings. According to the direction of the shadows, they would have to keep moving forward, then turn left.
In an alcove, a butcher carved mutton off the carcass of a young sheep. Elric paused to watch, keenly aware that they had only bits of stale bread. His mouth watered at the idea of roast mutton. Soon. He would be home soon. “Come on. Let’s hurry.”
He reached back, offering his hand. No one took it. Elric turned around. Wynn was no longer by his side.
His stomach turned to stone and dropped through to his shoes as he searched the crowd for her. Hundreds of people crisscrossed the open market, stopping at stalls. They wove paths in and out of the brief gaps that opened in the crowd, before those small pockets of space filled with more people. A loud shout and a cheer went up from a cluster of people with their backs to him.
Elric pressed into the wall of bodies and caught a glimpse of a dwarf man wearing a jester’s cap, and riding on the back of a very fat goat, but didn’t pay any heed. Instead he inspected the mass of people for Wynn’s face, but there was no sign of her.
His heart picked up. He had to find her.
A cloud passed over the sun, dimming the bright marketplace. He heard a young man laugh to his left. It was the kind of laugh that carried a cruel edge. It stopped Elric in his tracks. He had heard that sort of laugh before. “You want to buy a pig? I can sell you a pig.”
Elric followed the sound of the boy’s voice to a short stone wall surrounding a deep pig wallow. A group of four older boys had gathered around Wynn and smiled at her with dark grins and cruel, glinting eyes.
The oldest of the lot put his hand over Wynn’s shoulder. “All you have to do is climb into the pen and pick the one you want.”
No.
He pushed past the villagers crossing in front of him until he reached Wynn’s side. Her wide smile shone in her eyes as she looked adoringly at the older boy.
“Get away from her!” Elric shouted, throwing the boy’s arm off his sister’s shoulder. The boy slid his filthy palm over Wynn’s long braid and gave it a tug.
Wynn beamed at him as if nothing was wrong. “He is going to sell us a pig.”
“No, he’s not.” Elric took Wynn by the arm and pushed her behind him. He had to look up at the leader of the boys, whose chin was already growing a scraggly beard.
“Well, look at that. This little boy is speaking against my good nature.” He laughed again, and Elric’s blood ran cold. “Am I not a man of my word?”
His friends laughed in chorus, a malicious sound he knew too well. It was the kind he heard when people threw things at someone in the stocks. Elric took a step back, but the older boys pushed closer.
He glanced around, looking for anyone that could help them. No one was watching. Everyone else was taken by the sights and sounds of the market and paid no heed to a bunch of kids standing near a wallow.
Elric caught the eye of the dwarf, standing in his fool’s cap as he scratched the back of his goat’s neck. He had been watching what was happening, and Elric could see him frowning.
“Let’s go,” Elric said, taking his sister’s hand.
“But we haven’t completed our sale.” The tallest boy lunged for Wynn. “She needs to choose her pig. In the pen, half-wit.”
Suddenly the jester ran toward them, hollering and screaming incoherent nonsense. The group of boys stumbled backward in shock, parting the way a flock of sheep does for a well-trained dog. The man threw himself face-first into the slop of mud near a large pigpen and rolled around, howling as his goat ran forward and butted him on his behind.
The boys fell into peals of laughter at the jester’s antics, holding their sides as they doubled over in their mirth.
“Run,” Elric whispered, shoving Wynn hard in the back. They dodged through the crowd, weaving as fast as they could through the busy market. Wynn clung to her sack, and Elric gripped her wrist so tightly, he knew his nails were digging into her flesh, but she didn’t protest. Elric found the north gate and slipped through it, pushing against the tides of people coming to the town for market.
Once they were safely outside of the crowds, Elric let Wynn go. She breathed heavily as she dropped her sack to the ground. Mildred poked her head out the top, then struggled out of the sack. The ruffled hen shook her feathers and trotted away into the shade of the nearby trees.
“Why did we run?” Wynn asked, her strange-sounding words even more muddled by her heavy breaths.
Elric let his head fall as he struggled to ease the cramp in his side. “You wouldn’t understand.”
Wynn opened her mouth as if she wanted to say something, but then closed it. She blinked and looked away from him. “They were nice.”
“No, they weren’t. They were trying to trick you.” Elric straightened and adjusted his sack on his shoulder.
“Why?” Wynn came in close to his side.
“Because they think it’s funny.” He looped his arm over her shoulder and together they walked up the road.
“I don’t understand,” Wynn said.
Elric took a deep breath and waited for his panic to ease. He shook his head. “I don’t either.”
The cloister wasn’t far now. The sooner they got there, the better.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Elric
THE LONG ROAD WANDERED INTO a thick grove of trees that turned to a neat orchard bursting with apple blooms. Elric thought that the trees smelled like heaven compared to the town they just left behind. Come fall, the trees would be teeming with fruit. Wynn would have apples to eat whenever she wanted. Elric smiled as he remembered the way she constantly got into the honey when they were little—she always did have a sweet tooth. Plus, chewing apples would help strengthen her mouth so she could speak better. Between the trees, the road narrowed until it was little more than a cart path that wound through the orchard.
Finally the path ended at a formidable stone building, two stories high with a peaked roof and tiny dark windows every ten feet. Elric couldn’t see a chapel, only an enormous wooden door like a strange frowning mouth on the face of the stone building. He didn’t know what he was expecting when he thought of the convent, but this building intimidated him. It seemed so cold. For the first time he wondered, what would happen if the nuns didn’t take Wynn in? What would they do?
The nuns had to show her mercy. Wynn would be fine. He rubbed the wooden spoon tucked in his belt.
“This must be it,” Elric said as he forced his voice to sound unnaturally pleasant.
Wynn slowed and crossed her arms. “The walls are very big.”
Wynn was right. Elric couldn’t see anything beyond them, not even a spire or cross. It felt like the world ended here. “The walls will protect you. Come on.”
Elric pounded on the rough wood, then turned to Wynn. “Don’t speak,” he said hastily. “Just in case.”
A small window in the door opened. A young woman with a sweet expression framed by her pale gray wimple peered at them through the gap. “Oh, I beg your pardon. I thought you were our sisters come back from market. Can I help you?”
“My sister wishes to join you,” Elric said, his throat tight. This was for the best.
The young nun gave Wynn a soft smile, and Wynn tucked herself behind Elric in response. “I’ll alert the abbess.” The window shut, leaving them alone in the shadow of the high walls.
“I want to go away,” Wynn said. Elric turned around to face her. He placed his hands on her shoulders and looked her in the eye. Their downward tilt seemed more pronounced with the deep sadness he saw there. He felt it in his chest.
“They have apples.” Elric gave her shoulders a squ
eeze. “And on the inside of the walls, I’m sure there is a lovely garden and many kind women like the one at the door.”
Wynn stepped forward and pressed her head against Elric’s shoulder as she hugged him so tightly, he had trouble breathing. “I miss you.”
His eyes stung. He thought about all the times he left to mind the flock. She would wave until he feared her arm would fall off, and when he returned, she would run to him with the biggest smile and knock him over in her attempt to hug him. There would be no return this time. No more of her wild laughter at the silliest things. No more joy in his family. No more family at all, really.
“I’ll miss you too, little sister.”
The heavy door creaked as it opened, revealing a tall woman with a narrow face and pointy chin. Her mouth was little more than a thin line in her face, and she kept it tightly pinched in a scowl. The undyed wool of her habit was much finer than the other woman’s. The cloth fell over her like a blanket of snow as she kept her hands hidden in the deep folds of her massive sleeves, but her clothing did little to soften her appearance.
She looked down her long nose at Wynn and the wrinkles of her forehead deepened. “You may come for alms on Sunday.”
There was no mercy in her voice, and her words sounded final. Just like that, she’d decided Wynn couldn’t live there. The only mercy she would show a soul in need was to tell her to show up on Sunday so she could fight for whatever food and coins they threw out into the crowd of beggars. “We’re not looking for charity,” Elric said, his voice cracking. “Our parents are gone, and I can’t care for my sister alone. She’s a hard worker and would obey you at all times. She can weed the garden or clean the floors.” The young nun stepped up behind the abbess, staying in the shadows, her kind eyes wide with sympathy.
“Is this true?” the abbess said to Wynn, who looked up at the holy woman but didn’t say anything. She just stared. “Well, do you speak?” The voice of the abbess became harsh.
Wynn looked away, and then to her worn shoes. Her face scrunched up, as if finding any words at all in her mind physically pained her. “Elric said no talking.”
Elric’s hope sank as her words came out as garbled as ever. Even he had trouble understanding them.
The abbess turned her hard gaze on Elric and he felt as if he were shrinking down to the size of a dormouse. “You bring an unnatural child born out of God’s grace to the house of the Lord, and expect to find welcome here? She is a changeling.”
She wasn’t unnatural. She just didn’t talk well. Why was that so wrong? He knew lots of people who weren’t the quickest thinkers. They weren’t treated this way. Wynn never did anything wrong. His face flushed with the heat of his anger even as desperation became a fire in his stomach. “She’s good!” Elric protested. “She doesn’t speak well, but she can do chores. She needs help.”
“She could be a lay-sister and feed the geese. I could teach her prayers,” the young nun said from behind the abbess’s shoulder.
The older woman turned and stared at the younger one. Not a single thing about her expression changed, but the young nun immediately bowed her head in submission and folded her hands.
“I will not expose this abbey to an unfit soul.” The abbess turned her hard glare back to Wynn, as if she could crush her with the power of her words. “We have taken a vow of poverty. What resources we have must be devoted to God and the good women who come here from noble families to pursue their devotion and study. We must not waste.” She glanced back at the young nun behind her. “Return to your cell and pray for God’s mercy.”
And with that she turned and walked back into the high stone walls, shutting the door behind her.
Elric felt suddenly sick. He held his stomach as he turned away from the door and stumbled on the dark road. Wynn came quickly to his side and held his arm to steady him.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I spoke and you said not to.”
“It’s not your fault,” Elric said, but he had to force the words out. Where were they supposed to go now? They couldn’t return home. Father would be waiting. They had no place else they could go. Little food, no shelter. Rainstorms and snow would prove dangerous. They’d end up beggars holding out their hands for alms from the church that had thrown them out in the deadly cold.
“Does God not like me?” Wynn asked, glancing back at the convent.
“He is supposed to love everyone.” Elric adjusted the sack on his shoulder. God was not supposed to be vengeful and cruel.
“Like a father,” Wynn said as she stooped to pick up Mildred.
Elric let out a heavy breath. “Yes, like Father.”
Wynn looked as if a little piece of her soul had been crushed.
Elric heard the scraping of a latch, then the slow creak of a hinge opening behind them. Now what?
“Come here,” the soft voice of the young nun called through the open window. She waved to them, beckoning them closer. “Quickly.”
Wynn trotted up to the door. The young nun pushed a tied cloth through the hole. “Take these. They’re my rations for tonight. They’re not much, but they will help you on your way.”
Wynn gathered the small sack from the nun’s hands. “Thank you,” Wynn said as the young woman’s hand retreated.
“Go, with God’s blessing.” She gave them one last smile before she shut the window, leaving them alone on the darkening road.
“Where do we go?” Wynn asked. She hugged Mildred tight.
Elric reached out and stroked Mildred’s feathers. The hen clucked sleepily. “I don’t know,” he said. “But we can’t stay here.”
They would have to go back to the town they’d just fled from. In the town he could attempt to use his skills to support them. If they were lucky, he could find work as a shepherd or with a butcher. But he had no one to speak for his character. People were wary of strangers, and his circumstances were suspicious. Good people didn’t leave the land they were bound to. It would disrupt everything if serfs in the countryside refused to work the land they were given.
Maybe the wilderness was their best chance. They would have to live like nomads, but that brought its own challenges, like finding food. He wasn’t a good hunter and didn’t have a bow. He could make a sling, but a sling would hardly feed them. And he had no saw or ax, no way to make shelter.
Perhaps they should return home. He could apologize to Father, but then he would have to watch Wynn be led off like a lamb to the slaughter, to a world where he knew she would suffer.
She leaned against him, nudging him out of his dark thoughts. “Don’t be sad,” she said. “We’re together.”
“Always.” He took her hand and led them both down the road with Mildred following close behind.
They arrived back at the town just before the sun set. What had been a full and bustling town center now looked deserted, with merchants tearing down their rickety stalls for the night. The buildings cast the streets in shadow as Elric and Wynn had to dodge pots of foul water being thrown from the high windows.
The smell of filth rose from the ground as night settled over them.
“We need to find a place to hide, or we’ll end up in the stocks,” Elric warned. He led them down a narrow street and the sound of laughter poured from of a nearby inn. Elric stopped short and held his arm protectively across Wynn as a group of young men stumbled out of the open door.
They staggered before drawing themselves up, their cruel laughter too familiar, then turned their bloodshot gazes to Wynn.
“Well, well! It’s Pig Girl.” The tall one pointed at Wynn. “The one with the pretty hair. Hate to see it get dirty.” His words slurred together as he drew his hand through the mud at his feet, then flung it up at Wynn’s face.
She cried out when the thick glop hit her above the ear and fell down on her long braid. The group burst into howls of laughter.
“Leave her alone!” Elric shouted, balling his fists. He could feel the heat in his face as his heart thundered to life.
Elric reached out to Wynn, tears streaming down her face as she clutched Mildred to her chest.
“I can make her cry worse,” a short and fat boy said. “Hand me that chicken. I’ll break its neck.”
“Touch her and you’ll pay,” Elric growled at them.
“You’ll make us pay?” the leader asked, pushing up his sleeves. “This might be worth the price, boys.”
“Run, Wynn!” Elric shouted. “Run!”
CHAPTER NINE
Wynn
WYNN RAN DOWN THE ROAD. She held Mildred tight. She wouldn’t let that boy hurt her hen. Mildred was special. Her claws caught Wynn’s forearm and scratched. It stung, but Wynn held fast. She wouldn’t let go of her Mildred.
She heard a shout. She turned to see Elric bent over, holding his stomach. Another boy hit him across the face and he fell.
“Elric!” Wynn screamed. She wanted to go back and help him, but he told her to run. Elric was clever, and she had to listen to him. But he was hurt.
A rock hit her head. She flinched as pain throbbed through her scalp. She saw the boy who wanted to kill Mildred. He was catching up to her, picking up another rock.
She had to run.
She turned and fled. Elric was hurt. She was hurt too. Mildred couldn’t die.
Run.
Her feet splashed through the mud as she came near the gate. Another rock flew past and skipped over the road in front of her.
Keep running.
She passed through the gate. The skull in the cage still smiled at her. She didn’t want to breathe because it stank here, but she was running too hard to stop.
She panted as she held tight to Mildred. Her sack slipped from her shoulder and caught in the crook of her elbow. It slapped against her side with each step.
The bad ones were still behind her. She had to hide, like the fox Mother had chased from the gardens. It liked to disappear in bushes.