“If Roland gets up enough courage to carry through with his threat, he will know where to find us,” Parvel said, as soon as the booted footsteps faded.
“Not only that,” Jesse said, suddenly thinking of something else, “but what about Chancellor Doran?”
“What about him?” Silas said, frowning. “He wasn’t at the tournament.”
“No,” Jesse countered, “but what if word reaches him about the young intruders, one a young girl, another a skilled archer, and another a crippled boy? As the chief scribe, in charge of the Forbidden Book, won’t he know who we are?”
Chancellor Doran had almost certainly seen the drawings of Parvel, Silas, and Rae in the book. Yes, they were supposed to have been killed in the mountains, but at the very least, Chancellor Doran would suspect that the mysterious new servants were the escaped Youth Guard members.
“Where will you go?” Prince Corin asked.
Parvel looked deep in thought, but it was Silas who answered first. “To find Rae,” he said.
“And where is that?”
“I don’t know,” Silas admitted, “but I think we all know someone who might.”
Jesse, for one, did not, but Parvel began to nod. “Lady Taralyn,” Parvel said. “We have to go into the palace.”
“Rae would never have gone there, not with all the guards,” Jesse protested.
“Where else could she go?” Silas pointed out. “Here, she knew she would be found. There, at least, there are more places to hide. And Lady Taralyn might protect her.”
“But Chancellor Doran is there too,” Jesse said, not bothering to conceal the dread in his voice.
“Do not be afraid of him,” Prince Corin said, raising himself up on his bed. He pointed to the cross on the wall of the tent. Even though everything else was ransacked, Duke Hale hadn’t even disturbed it. “He and his master are already defeated. Because of the cross, we have the victory.”
“But He died,” Jesse pointed out, the old frustration coming back. “You said that Jesus died. Where’s the victory in that?”
“We never told him, did we?” Parvel said to Prince Corin. He turned to Jesse, his eyes lit with excitement, like a small child opening a present. “Jesse, Jesus didn’t stay dead. Three days after his crucifixion, He came back to life again!”
What! Jesse glanced at Prince Corin to make sure that it wasn’t a trick.
“It is true,” Prince Corin said, and even though he still looked tired, there was a peace shining from his face that made Jesse believe every word he said. “Death could not hold the Son of God. Jesus defeated the grave, so that when we die, we also have victory.”
“It isn’t possible,” Silas said, shaking his head. “Most of the priests don’t even believe it. And we don’t have time for fairy tales.”
But Jesse knew Silas was wrong, because the hope that rose inside of him told him that Jesus was not dead. He could not be. If Jesus were dead, why would Chancellor Doran be so afraid of His followers, Christians? If Jesus were dead, why would the governor say that their God was more powerful than Doran’s?
Prince Corin was right. They did have the victory. Suddenly, Jesse wasn’t afraid of Chancellor Doran anymore.
“We must leave,” Silas said curtly, and Jesse noticed again how talk about God disturbed him. “It’s almost curfew.” They had learned from experience that traveling after dark was a dangerous thing to do.
“So you will go to the palace, find Rae, and leave the city,” Prince Corin said. Jesse snorted. If only it would be so easy. “Where do you go from there?”
“Only what is written in the pages of this book will tell us,” Parvel said, picking it up. “We feel that we have a responsibility to do what we can to save the other Youth Guard squads.”
“A noble goal,” Prince Corin said, nodding, “although I worry for your safety.”
Jesse laughed. “Considering our situation here, anything would seem safer. I, for one, am ready to leave this palace forever.”
“Not without provisions,” Prince Corin said. “Take whatever you need from my supplies, if you can find anything in the mess left by our friend Duke Hale.”
Silas was already kneeling in the pile, wrapping up food in one of the blankets. Jesse saw him eyeing the longbow that he had leaned against the wall of the tent.
“Including weapons,” Prince Corin added. “Since I have clearly disqualified myself from the tournament, they are of no use to me.”
“We must change back into our old clothes,” Parvel said. He laughed at the face Jesse made. “I know, Jesse. But at least your rags will attract less attention than colorful island robes.”
Jesse sighed. He had gotten to like Prince Corin’s style of clothing, strange though it was. Besides, he hadn’t bothered to wash his old clothes, and the smell was less than pleasant.
All of them were used to packing quickly. It seems we’re always fleeing from some place or another.
Jesse laughed as he saw Parvel pick up the panpipes, then sigh and put them back in the chest. “That’s exactly what we’ll need, running for our lives,” Jesse teased, “a musical instrument!”
“Don’t be foolish, Jesse,” Parvel shot back. “Why, who needs a flute when we have your stunning singing voice?” Since he couldn’t think of anything to say in reply, Jesse simply ignored him.
Once Parvel was satisfied that they had all of the necessary provisions, he divided the supplies into two bundles and tied them up in the gray blankets that had covered their mats.
At least Prince Corin has one thing that isn’t brightly colored, Jesse thought. Walking out the gate of the palace wall with a bundle tied in a colorful robe would tempt the Patrol members to search it—or steal what it contained.
“And what will you say when the Patrol members ask what you’re carrying?” Prince Corin asked, raising an eyebrow at the odd pack.
“Supplies,” Silas said. “Most won’t ask questions. And, if that doesn’t satisfy them, a well-placed bribe will. That’s one thing about the Patrol….”
He stopped, eyes darting toward the front of the tent.
“What…?” Jesse began, but he trailed off when Silas shot him a cutting look and held a hand up for silence.
He mouthed the words, “Someone listening.”
Jesse stared at the fibers of the front wall of the tent. Sure enough, he could see a shadowed outline of a person standing outside. His heart started beating faster. Is it Roland? Or, worse, Chancellor Doran?
“You can always count on Patrol members to be corrupt,” Silas continued, as if nothing had gone wrong. As he spoke, he began to creep silently toward the entrance to the tent. “The people hate them, of course, because of the tax exemptions they receive, and the way they distort justice.”
He was now almost within reach of the curtain. The figure outside had not moved. Then, quickly as a fisher bird poking its beak into the stream to catch a passing trout, Silas burst out of the tent.
There was a muffled scream, and when Silas dragged the mysterious figure into the tent, Jesse knew why. There, glaring defiantly from underneath a hooded cloak, was Lady Taralyn.
Silas twisted the captive around, and the surprise on his face showed that he also had not guessed the identity of their intruder.
For her part, Lady Taralyn seemed more angry than frightened. “This is an outrage!” She wrenched free from Silas’ grip, sniffing haughtily. “I’ll thank you to keep your hands off of me from now on.”
With great effort, Jesse managed to keep from laughing. “Our humblest apologies,” Parvel said graciously.
Silas said nothing. Mistake or no mistake, it was not his way, Jesse knew, to apologize for something he had done to protect them.
Jesse heard a rustling noise as Prince Corin struggled to get up from his mat. “Lady Taralyn,” he said, attempting to bow. Jesse had to go ove
r and steady him so he didn’t stagger backward and collapse the tent.
“Sit down, Prince Corin,” Parvel commanded.
This time, the patient didn’t care to take the doctor’s advice. “It is not the custom of my land to remain seated when a lady is present,” Prince Corin said with dignity, despite the obvious pain he was in.
As soon as Prince Corin spoke, Lady Taralyn kept her eyes fixed on the ground. Once, she turned her head in Jesse’s direction, and Jesse saw that, beneath the cowl of her cloak, she was blushing bright red.
“I must speak to you,” she said, eyes still downcast. Her former arrogance was entirely gone. “Outside.”
Prince Corin immediately began to step forward, and Lady Taralyn’s head jerked up for a quick second. “No,” she said, almost in panic. “Not you. I cannot…I cannot….”
And, with a strangled cry, she turned and ran out of the tent.
Jesse glanced at Parvel and Silas. “You two go,” Silas said, shaking his head. “She clearly doesn’t want to speak to the prince.”
“Why don’t you come too?” Jesse asked Silas.
“I don’t want to leave the prince alone.”
But Jesse read the real answer in his eyes. He didn’t want to deal with a hysterical woman. Not that Parvel and I do either. Still, for Rae’s sake, he followed Parvel.
Lady Taralyn was waiting for them outside. Even though it was clear that she wasn’t wearing her face powder, she seemed to be paler than normal. The dead, numb expression on her face worried Jesse. What kind of news is she bringing?
She didn’t say. Instead, she began to hurry away from the tent. “We must be alone,” was the only explanation she offered.
Jesse wanted to ask her what was happening, where Rae was, and a thousand other questions, but Parvel just shook his head. “Just follow,” he said.
Everyone in the camp was going about business as usual. There was even more noise and activity than the night before, as some of the losers of the archery tournament packed up to go home.
No one seemed to recognize Lady Taralyn, but, then, Jesse knew that none of the suitors had been permitted to see her during the tournament. The part of her dress that poked out from underneath her long cloak was a simple white skirt. It could have belonged to anyone—servant girl, cook, old woman.
She stopped in front of a rough wooden structure at the edge of the camp, next to the palace wall. Jesse made a face. It was the latrine, erected on the palace ground specifically for the tournament. The afternoon heat did little to make the smell more bearable.
“All clear,” Parvel pronounced cheerfully, clearly trying to put Lady Taralyn at ease. “Now, what is it that you wanted to tell us?”
“It’s about Rae,” she began.
And then she collapsed against the wall and started to cry.
Chapter 17
In the past month, Jesse had faced deadly snakes, rockslides, hunger, and danger at every turn. This was something entirely different, and almost more frightening. What do you do with a crying woman? Jesse had never felt so helpless.
He couldn’t fix the problem because he didn’t know what it was. He couldn’t say that everything would be all right because, for all he knew, everything would not be all right. Maybe Lady Taralyn came to say that they had found Rae and thrown her into the dungeon. Or, if she was caught trying to escape, that a Patrol member had killed her.
The thought was so terrible that he couldn’t stand the silence anymore. “What is it?” he asked, trying not to let his impatience creep into his voice. “Is she all right?”
Lady Taralyn was still crying, more quietly now. “I had to come,” she managed quietly, taking a deep breath. “I promised her I would. I never knew it would be this hard.”
Now Jesse panicked even more. Lady Taralyn had promised to come tell them…if something happened to Rae? He wanted to scream at Lady Taralyn, to shake her and demand to know where Rae was.
“She’s gone,” Lady Taralyn continued. Her voice was steadier now, but she still would not look at them.
“You mean Rae?” Parvel asked. She nodded. “Where?”
“By now, she must be outside of the palace gates.”
Startled, Jesse almost turned to run to the main gate. Maybe we can get there before she does. Lady Taralyn could not have known about Roland’s order to the guards. Had she unknowingly sent Rae to her death?
A silent glance from Parvel told Jesse to stay. “How did she get away?”
“No one questioned me as I walked through the camps,” Lady Taralyn said dully, ignoring his question. “They didn’t even know who I was. I’m too plain to be a lady of the court. Especially now.” She paused. “I couldn’t look at anyone. I couldn’t let anyone, especially him, see me. Not with….”
Her voice broke off, and Jesse was afraid she was going to start crying again. Instead, she straightened up and turned around, wiping tears from her eyes. Slowly, staring past them into the distance, she pulled back the hood of her cloak.
“Lady Taralyn?” Jesse asked, stepping closer. It was her, of course. But her hair…. The long, beautiful red curls had been cut to her chin, raggedly, as if Taralyn had wielded the scissors herself.
“Now you know,” Lady Taralyn said. She had the same look of defiance on her face that she had when she told them she had freckles, as if daring them to laugh.
“It was my idea,” she said, when none of them said anything. “Rae came to me for help. I hid her from my ladies-in-waiting. She wanted to use my face powder to cover her skin, wear one of my old gowns and a veil, and leave the palace disguised as me. I knew it wouldn’t be enough.”
“So you cut your hair,” Jesse finished, when it seemed like Lady Taralyn would not go on with the story.
She nodded. “I braided it and sewed it to the veil. It is one thing that all of the guards would recognize—my red hair.”
“And the guards would simply let the lady of the palace sweep out the gate?” Jesse asked, skeptical.
“It’s not unheard of,” Lady Taralyn said, tilting her chin defensively. “I've had a habit of…wandering away from the palace, ever since I was a little girl. All of the guards know it. I think they find it amusing. Don’t tell my father,” she added.
Jesse almost smiled at that. They didn’t intend to tell Governor Elias anything.
“I waited for her to leave,” Lady Taralyn said, “then came to find you. Rae says that you are to leave the palace and meet her at Roddy’s place.” She said the words carefully, as if she had memorized them, and Jesse was happy to see that she had lost the idea that all of this was just a game. “Do you understand what that means?”
Parvel nodded. “Why did you do it?” he asked.
“Rae needed me,” Lady Taralyn said simply. “No one’s ever needed me before—not for anything. I’ve never been able to do a single thing for anyone else. Not that I ever wanted to, before yesterday.”
Jesse thought about that, then realized what Lady Taralyn meant. “It was Prince Corin, wasn’t it?”
She nodded. “And I’m glad I did it.” Lady Taralyn’s delicate face seemed to wilt like a dried flower, and her voice dropped. “No one told me it would hurt so much. To be ugly, I mean.”
She reached a hand up to touch her hair, but to Jesse’s relief, she didn’t begin to cry again. “In the old tales, when heroes did something valiant, they were never afraid,” she said, sighing. “But then, the heroes were never women.”
“And it is women like you who will change that for the next generation,” Parvel said graciously.
Lady Taralyn blushed. Then she shook her head. “No. I can’t be a hero. Heroes are brave.” Suddenly, she looked like a little girl instead of a full-grown noblewoman. “I’m afraid. Afraid to face them…like this.”
Jesse glanced at Parvel, who had his eyes closed, thinking. He always seemed to
have something to say when he didn’t.
He opened his eyes again. “In a very old book of wisdom, so old that there are very few copies left in Amarias, there are these words: ‘Perfect love casts out fear.’”
“How beautiful,” Lady Taralyn murmured. Then she looked up at Parvel. “But what does it mean?”
“The most perfect kind of love,” Parvel said, “is sacrifice.”
Then Jesse understood. He understood why Prince Corin took Rae’s whipping, and why Jesus, God’s Son, died to pay the penalty for all of the wrongs of the world. It was because of love, perfect love.
Jesse saw understanding dawn in Lady Taralyn’s eyes. Then she stood. “You must go. Find Rae and leave this city.” She looked out toward the palace gate, where Patrol members stood guard over the drawbridge. “It may be more than I can ever do.”
“Goodbye,” Jesse said. He felt like he should add something else. “I know who you marry is mostly beyond your control, but try to stay away from Sir Roland.”
She smiled a strange, wry smile and fingered her short hair. “I don’t think I’ll have to worry about that anymore.”
“He’s dangerous,” Jesse added, seeing that Lady Taralyn didn’t understand. “He’s the one who’s part of the Rebellion, not us.”
She gave a small gasp. “How do you know this?”
Jesse thought back to their last adventure. “It’s a long story,” he finally said. “If we ever meet again, I’ll have to tell it to you.”
Always the gentleman, Parvel took Lady Taralyn’s hand, kissing it. “We can never thank you enough.”
“No,” Lady Taralyn said regally, “thank you. I’m not afraid anymore.”
And, though her face was stained with tears and her curls ragged around her face, Jesse realized that Lady Taralyn had never looked more beautiful.
Jesse and Parvel walked back to the camp in silence. Silas and Prince Corin were waiting right where they had left them, although Silas had convinced Prince Corin to lie back down.
Curse of the Forbidden Book Page 14