The blonde girl led them both up the stairs and pointed Miriam towards a bedroom door, “There should be a robe or two on the back of the door. Just leave your dress in there and I'll see it's cleaned for you.”
Miriam nodded her thanks and crouched a little to give Devin a quick hug before stepping into the room.
Shalin smiled at her as she came back into the kitchen and waved her back into the chair. The robe was soft and with the warmth from the fire she was beginning to thaw. “Right then, now that you look more like the woman I knew and less like a drowning kitten, why don't you tell me what's going on? The last time I saw you, your Caerl had gotten a new job in Savarel and you were moving up there.”
“We were never going to Savarel,” Miriam admitted in a small voice. “I lied because he'd lost his job, again, and we were being thrown out of our home.”
“Why didn't you say something?” Shalin gasped. “I had no idea! You know I would have helped you.”
“When you've got nothing, Shalin, sometimes pride is all you can to cling to,” Miriam said simply.
“Hmm, you're right.” said Shalin. “We were so poor when I was a little'un we made the birds look rich, but our doorstep was scrubbed daily.” She folded her arms across herself. “So, what's happened now? I mean, it's been what, eight years? Nine?”
“It's been eleven, Shalin, almost twelve.” Miriam walked over to the fireplace and stared deep into the flames. “He drank,” she began. “Most men drink, but he drank and then he got mean with it. I could cope with that well enough, I suppose, but it was almost every day in the end.” Her head bowed as if she were speaking to the floor, confessing like a naughty child. “And he would hit me. Nothing I did would be good enough, Shalin. I tried. I really tried! There would be days when he would come home and it seemed like he was searching for something to start off on. Then tonight, he beat me and Devin woke up.”
“Your boy?” Shalin asked quietly.
Miriam nodded silently. “Caerl was always careful not to wake him, either that or Devin always made out like he was sleeping. He'd never stir.” She breathed deeply before pressing on. “Caerl had me on the floor and he just kept kicking me. All I could think was, this is it. This is the night that he's finally going to kill me. Then, Devin was there, throwing himself on Caerl and he grabbed him and threw him at me. He actually threw my boy, Shalin! He was taking his belt off to beat the both of us.”
“How did you end up like this, Miriam? You were always so strong, when I knew you.”
“He wasn't always like this. When we first met, he was so sweet you wouldn't believe he was the same person.”
“How did you meet him? You never did tell me, you know?” She stood and took down a kettle from a hook, filling it from the pump over the double sinks. “I expect you could use some tea to start with?” She cocked an eyebrow at Miriam over one shoulder.
“He was a caravan guard. He used to come into my father's inn every few months, doing the route from Savarel to Kavtrin.”
“And I bet you thought he held the sun in one hand and the moon in the other, didn't you?” Shalin said as she set the kettle to boil.
“And then some,” Miriam admitted. “He was everything my father hated, and of course, everything I wanted. I was all of fifteen when we started sneaking about together.” Her face twisted as she spoke. “Eventually, he talked me into running away with him and that was that. I snuck out of the window one night with nothing but a small pack of clothing and keepsakes.” She picked up the mug and blew softly at the steam curling from the top. “At fifteen, I knew all there was to know, and so I turned my back on my family, friends and my home. All for a man I really, barely knew.”
“You don't need to tell me if you don't want to,” the woman said softly.
“No, it's good. It sort of helps, you know, to talk about it? I don't think I've ever told anyone the whole thing before.”
Shalin nodded, setting the steaming mug down in front of Miriam and moving back to her own chair, cradling her cup in her elegant hands.
“We settled here in Kavtrin. He found work easily enough in the marketplace and on the docks. I found easy work in a tavern. We had a lovely room in a nice area overlooking some of the gardens by the park. It wasn't anything especially wonderful, but it was ours, and it felt like a home. Things were wonderful. I mean truly storybook wonderful, until he started drinking.” She cleared her throat and looked down at the table as she continued. “First, he started drinking after work with the boys from the marketplace. I didn't mind or blame him. It's hot and heavy work, and a man needs to spend time with the folks he works with.
“Then, he started drinking during lunch with the dockhands. Before long, he was drinking more than he was working. That was when he lost the first job. He was so ashamed that he hid it from me for almost a week before he finally admitted it. He'd still been going out to work in the mornings and not back until dusk, but I knew something wasn't right. A woman always knows. So, he swore off the drink again and we muddled through. He found more work and things were back to normal, until it happened again.” She drew in a deep shuddering breath and sighed it out slowly. “This is harder than I thought,” she said, looking at Shalin with an apologetic smile.
“You're doing fine Miriam, just take your time.”
Miriam nodded and drained her tea, setting the mug down and clasping her hands in her lap. “After we lost the third home, I told him straight. One more time, one last time, and that was all the chances I was giving him.” She sniffed and then gave a wry smile, “We hadn't really planned for a family. Oh, we hadn't exactly avoided it. I'd stopped drinking moon-tea soon after we settled down again. If I'm honest with myself, it had been my price for keeping us together, and that had been the idea really. Maybe I thought that if we concentrated on starting a family, then things would be better. Of course, you need to be home to start a family. It helps if you're conscious and not snoring ale fumes into the kitchen floor. I'd been right on the verge of telling him we were done, when along came Devin, just like that.” She laughed then, a bitter little laugh that held no joy.
“He changed. Overnight he changed, and it was like none of the strife or struggles had ever been there.” She glanced up at Shalin and smiled with tear-rimmed eyes. “He helped through the pregnancy. He worked harder, was home earlier and looked after me like I was made of glass. Sometimes too much! When Devin was born he was there, though he bolted outside as soon as the midwife arrived and wouldn't come back into the building until he heard the babe squall. Life was back to the storybook for almost four years, four blissful years.”
“So, what happened? What changed?” she heard Shalin ask.
“Honestly? I have no idea.” She shook her head. “I wondered for a while if he'd been having an affair and it had ended or something like that. Between one month and the next he shifted, he became distant. He came home twice with ale on his breath, though I pretended I hadn't smelt it. The following week, it was spirits he reeked of. Then it seemed it was every night. You know the funny thing?” Shalin shook her head quietly and Miriam smiled a sad smile. “It was only then, that I began to realise how alone I'd become. We lost most of our friends when we'd had to move the first time. There's nothing quite like pride to rob a person of their good sense is there? Oh, I'd reached out a couple of times, but after we'd moved the third time, I was so ashamed I never bothered trying to keep in touch again. Then Devin came along and my days were filled with him and what work I could find. Caerl had been so good to me that I almost didn't notice that I never really saw anyone else. Until of course, I needed somebody else. Until it all began again. And then I was alone. So, so alone.”
Shalin moved to take her in her arms as the tears began to fall. Her body shook with silent sobs, and she allowed the willowy blonde to pull her head into her shoulder. For a time they just sat in silence, until Miriam pushed herself away with a sniff. “Look at me, crying like a babe.”
Shalin produced a handkerchie
f, a faint smile on her face. “Where were you working?”
Miriam snuffled into the hanky, “I still worked in a couple of taverns. It was hard to find one where I could bring Devin. But then, when he got old enough, he worked as a scullion while I worked in the kitchen or the laundry. I'd tried working as a serving girl again, but any man who smelled of ale reminded me of Caerl. I tried a few places, but in the end I realised it wasn't the inn, it was me. A girl working in an inn needs to be able to laugh and banter and flirt a bit. I couldn't do it. I couldn't find it in me. Any man so much as spoke to me and I ran off like a startled rabbit. So I stayed in the kitchens, preparing meals and washing linens.
“Through all of it, Caerl was the same. He ran in cycles. He would drink himself to almost rock bottom before swearing off the stuff. He was true to his word too. He wouldn't touch it or go to the inn with the others. He'd come back from his work early. He'd be calmer, kinder, more attentive, and then it would begin again. Always the same, every time. It would start with one drink with the boys on a Friday. Then it would become Wednesday too, then a touch of wine with dinner. Before too long, he'd be cursing that we had nothing in the place to drink. He'd be coming back from the marketplace later and later, stinking like the bottom of an ale barrel. The more he drank, the blacker his mood seemed to get and then, before long, I was back to never knowing when he was coming home, or who he might be when he arrived.
“Some men are happy drunks. We've both seen them, laughing and carrying on. Some become depressed and snuffle into a tankard in the corner. Caerl wasn't either of these. He would fall in through the doors with a shadow in his eyes, and then it would start. It seemed some days he almost had to search for something to get angry about, but he always found something. Everything was meant as a hurt when the mood was on him. If the fire was built too high, I was squandering his money. If the food was too simple or the rooms weren't spotless I was failing as a wife. But he never actually hit me, until just lately.” Her hand crept unnoticed to her face and she fingered the bruises, probing the sore flesh absently as she spoke.
“Always before, even in his darkest place, he stopped at hurling things across the room or kicking over the table. He'd rage and curse at me as I stood in front of Devin's cot and eventually, it was like he'd suddenly see me. Maybe he saw how scared I was or something. But he'd turn and storm out of the door. He'd be back later, stinking of cheap gin and slurring apologies as he pawed at me in the bed.
“And then one time, he did it. He hit me. And it was like, now he'd crossed the line and seen that nothing came from it, he decided it was okay. He never did it in front of the boy, though. It was like he thought beating me was fine, it was okay. But children shouldn't see it. Then tonight, he woke Devin with all his shouting and Devin saw him hit me. My boy actually tried to protect me, Shalin.” Her voice was filled with a fierce pride.
“What have you done, Miriam?” Shalin asked, as understanding suddenly dawned on her.
“He was going to beat us both. He was taking off his belt!”
“What have you done, Miriam?” she repeated in a soft voice.
“I went for him with a pot ladle. It caught him in the face, just here.” She touched her temple. “He fell hard. And…and, we just left.”
“Is he dead?”
Miriam gasped. “I don't know,” she admitted as her hand flew to her mouth. “I didn't think to check. Oh, Lords and Ladies! What if I've killed him?”
Shalin took her by the hands, and looked at her firmly. “Now, listen here. You did what you needed to do. Nobody in this room is going to blame you or think less of you for that. You were keeping your boy safe and that's what counts. If he's dead, well then he got what was coming to him. Less than I would have given him!” She stood abruptly and left the room, returning quickly with two glasses and a dark bottle.
“Take this, you look like you could use a good drink,” she said, pressing the brandy into Miriam's hands.
Miriam drank the fiery liquid down without comment and held her glass out for another. Shalin chuckled and poured, before giving her a serious look. “Have you thought what you might do?”
Miriam shook her head.
“I'd have you here, Miriam, you know that. But you must realise it's going to be one of the first places he looks, if he comes looking for you. If he's dead, well then, better you were gone from Kavtrin completely.”
“Maybe I should just go to the Justice, Shalin. I mean, if he's dead?”
“Now don't talk stupid, girl!” Shalin snapped. “You've done the right thing. You got yourself out, you looked after your lad. You've walked all the way here, and now you talk about going to the Justice?”
“If he's dead though...” She trailed off.
“What? Because it's the law?” Shalin scoffed. “You know as well as I do, people die in this city every day. Caerl wasn't rich or important, they won't bat an eye. IF he's even dead!” She took a deep drink, and set down her glass again. “Now, before you started on that nonsense, I was about to ask if you have anywhere you could go. Somewhere outside of Kavtrin, until you get on your feet? Are you in touch with your family at all?”
Miriam shook her head. “No. And it's been too long. I couldn't just turn up, not now. To be honest, I don't even know if they're still there.”
“It's a start, Miriam. Go there and see. It gets you away from any... problems here. And it gets you moving off your behind, girl!”
“I don't have any money, Shalin. I hadn't really thought past maybe someday getting away from Caerl, and finding a job somewhere with just me and Devin. It was all just rainy day dreams, but now...”
Shalin took a deep breath, visibly biting back words which were too harsh for the moment. “Wait here,” she said tersely and strode from the room. Miriam sat by the fire, listening to the sounds of raucous laughter and merriment from the common room. She was dimly aware of Shalin's voice in the hallway. The words were indistinct, but the tone spoke volumes. A few moments later, she stepped back into the kitchen.
“I've a few things to organise, but we will sort you out, Miriam. For now, I think you probably need a bed. You look like you're about to drop off your feet. Why don't you head up and climb in with your boy? We'll talk more in the morning.”
Chapter Two
Devin woke in confusion at the unfamiliar creak and clatter of the wagons as they made their way along the road. He sat up on the hard wooden bench-seat, swinging his legs down, thankful for the folded blankets that were acting as a cushion under him. Realising that the figure next to him was not his mother, he sat upright with a lurch, wiping the drool from his face and looking around uncertainly.
“She's in the back, lad,” said the man next to him as he clucked the horses on. “I'm Garrit, you're Devin, and now we're not strangers. So now there's no need to be nervous, see?” He smiled down at the boy.
Devin gave a tight smile back at the strange man and took in his surroundings. They were trundling along on a wide, well-travelled road with broad, sweeping fields on either side of them. Nodding heads of wheat stirred in the slight breeze and bright blue birds swooped and dove for insects in the morning sunlight. In the distance, Devin could see the fields giving way to trees as the road rose into the hills.
Garrit was a grizzled and daunting looking man that Devin would probably have been scared to approach if he hadn't introduced himself in such a way. He was dressed in dark and hardened leathers under a rough cloak. Devin was a young boy, but not so unobservant as to not notice the long knife at the man's belt or the scars on his face.
“In the back?” Devin asked, in hushed tones.
“She was tired. I told her to go and get some sleep and I'd drive for a bit. Now that you're awake, do you think you can handle the cart for a few minutes?”
“Me?” gaped Devin. “I don't know. I mean, I've never...”
“It's not hard, boy. The horses'll follow the wagon in front anyway, and I'll only be gone a few minutes. This here's Beth,” he said
, gesturing towards the piebald horse on the left. “An' this one's Bunion. He used to be a bit of a handful, but he's settled down these days.” He handed the boy the leather reins, and watched him for a few minutes until he was satisfied. Then he reached out a short hunting bow from behind the seat and grabbed up a quiver of arrows. With a grin, he hopped off the cart and was gone. Leaning over the side, Devin saw him smoothly unhitch his horse from the back of the cart and haul himself into the saddle before turning sharply and riding back down the line of wagons. Clearly, this was something he'd done more than a few times. Remembering his responsibilities, Devin turned his attention back to the road and held the reins seriously. The horses didn't seem to notice overly much, and plodded along at the same pace.
They were travelling in a team of six wagons which had been moving since before light. Devin vaguely remembered being put into the wagon and wrapped up in blankets, whilst his mother quietly said her goodbyes to Shalin, and then they were off. It had all seemed very exciting as they passed through the city and then moved out through the gates and onto the roads. Very quickly though, it had become dull and boring and he'd fallen into a half-doze as he slumped down next to his mother.
The wagons were serviceable, but showed signs of heavy wear. To Devin's inexperienced eyes, though, they looked quite fine. They were all heavily loaded with various wares from Kavtrin, and the team of fifteen caravan guards served to demonstrate the value of the cargo. The guards seemed a hard-bitten lot, an impression reinforced by the selection of hard boiled leather and varied bits of mail. They rode on either side of the caravan, their eyes sweeping the fields frequently, armed with both bows and swords and saying little.
The wagon shook as Garrit appeared next to him in the seat and grinned at him. “All okay, then? No broken wheels? No fighting off bandits?”
Devin laughed and shook his head.
The Riven Wyrde Saga boxed set Page 2