Nobody's Lady

by Amy McNulty

  After half a minute, Tayton jogged down the hill beside me. “I’m sorry if I—”

  “Never mind.” I swallowed and tried to smile. “Let’s just enjoy today, okay?” I let go of my skirt and ran, stumbling down the rest of the hill, frightening the nearest sheep who’d only just recently come to a rest.

  Sindri’s and Darwyn’s brows sparkled with sweat in the brightness of the sun, and Darwyn was bent forward, clutching his thighs for support. “This … was a lot easier … as a kid,” he sputtered between breaths.

  Sindri patted Darwyn’s back. “Life was much easier, little brother.” He looked up, cupped his hands around his lips, and shouted, “Woo!” for no reason whatsoever.

  The nearest sheep was probably four house lengths away by now, but it likely felt much too close to this noisy band of too-old warriors. It bleated in protest and skipped a few steps farther. Everyone’s eyes met, one after the other, and we all laughed. My eyes held Jurij’s for a beat longer, until I had to look away. I collapsed onto the ground beside him, rubbing Bow’s belly as she rolled over.

  I caught Jurij’s eyes again for just a moment. Long enough to remember the feeling I used to get when I imagined the eyes behind his mask, or when I first saw the flames that danced there.

  “Noll, do you remember—” His head turned, his attention drawn behind me. Bow flipped over, her head cocked. A dog’s bark slipped into the silence between us.

  “Uh-oh.” Darwyn shielded his face from the sun with his palm. “Tell me that’s not some farmer’s dog, come to chase us away from his sheep.”

  Bow jumped to her feet and barked back.

  Sindri smirked. “What would a journey to the livestock fields be without being told to go away?”

  “I was just hoping we could spend more than a minute here before it came to that,” Darwyn replied.

  Tayton craned his neck forward, as if the additional inch it gave him would make the barking dog coming over the top of the hill easier to see. “That’s no sheepdog, it’s—”

  Bow barked and bolted, sending the sheep scattering once more. She whipped past one bleating sheep without so much as halting to round the bend, ruffling the sheep’s wool with her tail.

  Tayton shrugged. “I was gonna say it was a gold dog, like Bow, but I guess she figured that much out for herself.”

  Jurij stiffened on the grass beside me, his arm bending slightly to lower himself further down among the blades. I crawled up to get a better look at the commotion.

  “The dog’s with someone,” said Tayton, his hands around his eyes to get a better look. “Two people.”

  Maybe it’s Mother and Father. Or at least, if it’s her, she’s with Mother or Father. Might be a bit less awkward.

  Sindri laughed so loud, I jumped. “It’s Jaron!” He slapped Darwyn on the back, and they both followed after Bow. Tayton lifted a foot and then paused, looking at me and Jurij, who was now completely flat against the ground. “Did I miss something?”

  I felt my cheeks crack as I forced a smile. “No. It’s nothing. Jaron. I haven’t seen him in a while. It’ll be good to say hello. I just didn’t know he’d gotten a dog.”

  “Ha, that man!” Tayton’s attention was drawn back to the hill. “A different lady on his arm every time I see him!” He jogged after Sindri and Darwyn.

  My mouth dried, and a surge of panic hit my stomach. Mother?

  “It’s Elfriede,” spoke the grass at my feet, Jurij’s head not so much as lifting up to confirm for certain.

  “Now, the black ones, their wool is harder to dye, so it doesn’t go for as much.” Jaron pointed at one of the black sheep with a fried leg of lamb, probably not realizing the irony. Elfriede had cooked all of the food Jaron pulled out of Father’s carved picnic basket, I was sure of it. Jaron took a bite and gave himself half a minute to chew. “But the black ones have their uses.”

  “I can see that.” Sindri laughed, staring at the voracious way Jaron attacked the leg of lamb. For a little while, it felt good to see him eating. He never ate much in the commune. True, I hadn’t seen his face in those days, but he was a friend of sorts. And I could tell he was skinny—too skinny. He’d filled out rather nicely since, for an older man.

  I blushed, my gaze accidentally catching Elfriede’s as I looked away. I can’t exactly fault her for dating a man almost twenty years older. I gripped a handful of grass, ripping it free of the dirt with such force, the roots popped out. The lord wasn’t my man. But he was a thousand years old, thanks to me.

  Darwyn extended his chin toward the towering black castle some distance behind me. I still always made a point of sitting with my back toward the east. Old habits. “He’ll take black wool, won’t he?” Darwyn posed the question to Jurij specifically.

  Jurij shrugged, his expression the same stony look he had the moment Jaron and Elfriede joined us. He rubbed his hand over Arrow’s head lazily. “Out of the tailoring business,” he muttered under his breath.

  Like he’d have forgotten the answer to that question just because he hadn’t helped his mother and father for a few weeks. I let the blades of grass tumble from my fingers.

  Jaron put down the remains of his lamb leg, scouring the picnic basket. “You’re sure you’re not hungry?” he asked. “We may not have enough for seven, but Friede packed plenty of rolls. She made them herself, and they’re some of the best I’ve ever—”

  “You work with livestock now?” I asked. The grass left a greenish stain on my palm that I rubbed with my fingers. “Did you do that before? Uh, that is … ” I stopped, suddenly aware of Elfriede’s pale eyes on my face.

  Jaron didn’t seem to mind. He laughed as he tossed a roll at Sindri, who caught it and started eating as if he wasn’t sitting in a circle fraught with unspoken tension.

  “I can barely remember what I did, Noll.” Jaron shrugged. “Seriously. Maybe if I asked someone who knew me then. Life in the commune is pretty much all a useless blur in my mind. For the most part. There are a few things I remember, but … ” He tossed another roll, this one to Darwyn, who fumbled but caught it before it fell on the ground. Too bad for Arrow, who seemed to be watching with interest.

  “What about your parents?” Darwyn asked, too curious to start eating.

  “Gone. Probably.” Jaron passed a roll to Tayton and offered one to me. “Noll?”

  I shook my head. “No, thank you.”

  Elfriede stopped glaring at me and dug into the basket, unwrapping a wedge of cheese she didn’t offer to share with anyone. Jaron bit into the roll, pointedly forgetting Jurij.

  Sindri spoke with his mouth still half full of bread. “What do you mean probably?”

  Jaron cocked his head, as if Sindri was the one making the strange statement. “They were farmers, I think. I forget which kind. I didn’t get any social calls from them when I wound up in the commune. I kind of forgot what they looked like after all that bleakness.”

  Tayton chewed his roll slowly. “But surely they would remember you? If your father didn’t care, then your mother?”

  I flinched with guilt at the idea that a man could be so enamored with his goddess he barely cared about his own children. It’s not always true. Remember Master Tailor. Your own father. Sort of.

  Jaron raised a hand to stop him. “I really couldn’t tell you.” He popped the rest of the roll into his mouth and waited to finish chewing. “Maybe she did visit me early on. Maybe she commanded my father to do so, too. I wouldn’t have been able to focus on anyone in the commune, especially not with her living so close.”

  Without being asked, Elfriede uncorked the bottle she’d carried along with the basket and filled Jaron’s wooden cup with ale. There were no cups for the rest of us. They’d clearly planned a picnic for two.

  “Thank you, dear,” said Jaron as he took the mug from her. The “dear” sent a shiver down my spine, and Elfriede seemed to notice. She smiled at me—actually smiled—perversely as she placed the bottle ba
ck on the grass beside her. Bet you didn’t know that Mother used to love that same man beside you, did you? I smiled back at her. I felt dirty doing it. But still. Of all the men she could have used to taunt Jurij and show she was moving on, why Jaron? Why a man so much older, someone who spent years pining for Jurij’s aunt? Unless that was exactly why. Someone who’d moved on from Jurij’s family, just as she would. Someone older because she used to be embarrassed her man was a little younger.

  I grabbed another handful of grass. Not her man any longer.

  Jaron nudged Tayton with his elbow before taking a sip from his mug. “So why is it the one time I see you young men at the tavern, you get so drunk you can hardly stand straight?” He leaned his head back and swallowed the rest of his mug’s contents. “You scared all the young ladies away. Not a great impression, if you’re looking for companions.”

  Elfriede’s eyes widened, and her head whipped immediately toward Jurij, but Jurij didn’t so much as flinch. He continued his slow, methodical stroking of Arrow’s head, his focus on the grass in front of him.

  Tayton stuffed the rest of his roll into his mouth. “Who faid we were wooking for wommm?”

  “No one said anything.” Jaron extended his mug out to Elfriede, who uncorked the bottle and poured more without a word. Jaron had had little experience serving a goddess himself, so he might not have thought anything of it, but it still felt strange to see a woman serve a man. The liquid sloshed as Elfriede’s eyes darted back to Jurij every few seconds. Jaron pulled the mug back to his chest, not seeming to notice that Elfriede was still pouring. “Thank you, dear.” He turned back to Tayton. “But a man knows. You’re all young, hardly with your goddesses before—well, before.” He took a sip as Elfriede hastily corked the bottle, her eyes darting to the wasted liquid on the ground. Knowing her, she was probably considering ripping off her apron and sponging the spill, even though it was on the dirt and grass. “Love is so different without being forced into it, lads. It’s fun.”

  “I wouldn’t have guessed that, from your behavior.” Darwyn’s words were coated in sarcasm, and he and Sindri both burst into muffled giggles as they probably imagined Jaron seen each night in town with some different woman on his arm. I wondered if this was Elfriede’s first chance to be so honored, and if so, what were the chances of the two of them deciding on a picnic the same day I decided to take the guys out for a day of relaxing in the fields.

  Jaron was undeterred. If anything, he seemed flattered as he took a sip from his mug. “Women are beautiful, lads, kind and lovely, if you let them be. If you can just put everything else behind you—”

  “I think we’ve had enough of women.” It was the first thing Jurij had said in ages, and everyone in the circle stopped to stare at him. “At least I have.”

  Jaron set his mug down on the ground beside the basket. “And that explains why the first place you ran to after the lord’s decree was into the arms of his own lovely goddess.” He raised his eyebrows at me.

  I swallowed and focused on the grass in my hand, squeezing the blades so hard they bled wet green juice into my palm.

  “I didn’t run into Noll’s arms.”

  “Really? Could have fooled me, and half the village while you were at it.” Jaron’s hands were intertwined, his weight against his elbow as he leaned a little too casually against the grass. “I’m surprised the black carriage doesn’t ride up to the door of that shack the two of you share and give you another puffed eye to go with the first one.”

  “Jaron!” I dropped the blades of grass, and some of them stuck to the wetness on my hand. I’d forgotten Jaron, a shade of the man sitting before me, had been there to witness that debacle.

  Darwyn gasped. “A bit harsh, my good man. Jurij is just as much a victim as any of us.”

  Jaron stared at the ground. “If you count breaking not one but two sisters’ hearts over the course of his young life, then fine.”

  It wasn’t like that, I wanted to say. If Jaron thought my time at the commune was because of Jurij, he was mistaken. I looked between him and Elfriede for any sign of shame at what he’d just said, but I found none. Her eyes were on the ground, as if pretending we weren’t there would somehow make it a reality.

  Jurij stood up, walking past me with both Bow and Arrow trailing after him. Jurij’s lips trembled into a semblance of a smile. He rubbed behind Arrow’s ears. “Stay, boy. Just your mama and me are going.”

  “Take him, too.”

  Elfriede hadn’t said a word since she came down the hill. It had been so long since I’d heard that delicate voice, and it’d been even longer since I heard it approaching anything near composed and refined.

  It was enough to finally get Jurij to look at her.

  She didn’t return the favor. “Take the dog,” she said, her nose scrunched up and her gaze locked on Jurij’s knees. “He’s too much work. And he was just something from you anyway.”

  Jurij scoffed. Then he did something really strange. He bowed toward Elfriede. “Goddess forbid you have too much work to do by yourself, Elfriede. Fine. Thank you. He was the last thing I regretted leaving behind.” He turned on his heel and pushed past Tayton and Jaron, weaving through sheep, with Bow at his heels. “Here, boy!” he called, turning back just once to wave Arrow toward him.

  Jumping to my feet, my cheeks burning with anger, I opened my mouth to say something, then snapped it shut. Elfriede’s lips trembled, and a glossy shine enveloped her eyes.

  I could hardly make out his silhouette in the darkness beside me. The fire long extinguished, the two of us settling in earlier and earlier each night. “To sleep,” I’d said. “Exhausted,” he’d told me. Since encountering Jaron and Elfriede at the livestock fields, Jurij had done nothing but work and sleep, eat and think.

  I couldn’t see him clearly in the pile of hay and blankets we’d used to fashion a mattress on the floor, but I could hear his breathing, the wavering inhale and exhale just barely audible beneath the dogs’ snoring.

  I couldn’t sleep. I never could sleep that early. If I’d been alone, I’d have stayed up later, carving another animal. If I’d been at my former home, Mother would have found something for me to do. The only time I could remember closing my eyes and wishing for sleep to come this early was during that silent time in the castle. The time when I had no one and nothing to keep me company. Nothing but thoughts that hurt and festered, and no promise that the next day would be any better.

  If I had known then what I know now, would those days have been different?

  If I had apologized for dooming him to that fate from the start, would he have ever been cold and cruel? He was kind during our first meeting.

  The memory of him tending to my hand in the darkness brought a raging heat to my face. I wasn’t angry at him—I had no cause to be angry at him then.

  What if I’d tended to that kindness and learned to love him before my seventeenth birthday?

  What if I’d been able to push Jurij out of my heart back then? At least Jurij and Elfriede would have been happier. Ailill would have been happier—if he’d never gotten to know that stubborn side of me. I would have been …

  “What shall we do for dinner this evening?” Ailill’s knight would have snagged my rook when I wasn’t paying attention. I’d have been focused instead on those pale brown eyes.

  “Mother invited us to dine with her and Father. Friede wants to ask my opinion about her gown for her wedding.”

  “A lovely idea! We shall invite them here. It is far roomier.” Ailill would have signaled to a specter at that and relayed his instructions. He would have grinned as his attention turned back toward me and I moved my queen diagonally across the board. “Perhaps you should put on the gown you wore for our wedding for the occasion.”

  “It’s just a dinner, not the wedding. Besides, it’s not our wedding day. We already had that with the Returning.” I would have been blushing then—I could feel the heat in my cheeks even now.
Ailill would have caught my queen with a pawn. I wouldn’t be able to believe how distracted I was, how I couldn’t have seen the danger I’d just put the poor piece in. “Thank you again, for saving my mother … ” I would have to say something sobering, otherwise I would never have been able to tear my eyes from him. “I still wonder, at that miracle.”

  “You need not thank me.” Ailill would have leaned over the board, his elbows knocking over the pieces, neither of us caring. “I would do anything for you.” His face would have been mere inches from mine, his breath like a surge of fire across my cheek. “Thank you, for loving me. That is the true wonder … ”

  This is ridiculous. My fantasies couldn’t capture Ailill properly. He was cold, not warm. He was stubborn, not agreeable. The whole thing rang false. My dreams could never capture happiness—whatever that was like.

  Of course, if I’d been happy, I’d have had no reason to leave, voices calling me or not. I’d have had no reason to cause Ailill to break the curse. But then I’d also have had no reason to create the curse to begin with, and Ailill wouldn’t have loved me, and Jurij wouldn’t have loved Elfriede, and Elfriede wouldn’t have loved Jurij.

  It was all so confusing. I couldn’t lay there a moment longer, lost in my thoughts.

  I flung back the blankets and swung my legs over the side of the bed, my toes scuffing the rough wood floor. In the dark, I could just make out Arrow’s head lifting. “Shh,” I whispered, wrapping my cloak around my shoulders. It was still summer, but the season was waning and the nights had grown colder. I slid on my boots and tiptoed to the door. Arrow clopped toward the moonlight, his toenails scuffing the floor with each step.

  I patted his head. “Stay.” He nudged his nose past my hand, determined to fit his entire body under my arm and out the door. He never did respond to me that well. I let him go and followed. As I shut the door behind me, I spared one last glance at the pile of hay. Dog and master were blissfully breathing, lost in the respite of their dreams.