“Yes.” I rise to my feet, barely acknowledging Erik’s hand under my elbow. “You know how Mother is these days. She’s interrogated me a couple of times about your whereabouts. We don’t want to give her more reasons to question us.”
Gerda sighs, but pulls away from Anders and stands. “You keep the book,” she tells him.
“Thank you, Gerda.”
There’s that smile again. I bite the inside of my cheek. “We must hurry. If we are home early, it will look less suspicious.” Erik, who has followed us to the door, hands me my bag as we pass the table. “We don’t want to betray Anders and Erik to the enemy,” I whisper in Gerda’s ear as I push her out the door.
We walk home in silence. I shift the heavy satchel from shoulder to shoulder to lessen the burden. It’s a measure of Gerda’s preoccupation that she does not offer to help carry the bag.
Entering town, I lower my head as we pass the enemy soldiers posted in the square. No need to draw any attention. Thankfully, we reach our house without incident.
Stepping into our bright parlor, its white-washed walls displaying splotches of bare plaster from Mother’s constant scrubbing, I notice my twin sisters, Franka and Nanette perched on the oak settle. Their golden hair falls below their shoulders in soft waves and their eyes sparkle like sapphires in their perfect, porcelain doll faces.
Mother stands in the center of room, clutching a wrought iron poker. She slaps the poker against one callused palm.
“Gerda and Varna Lund.” Her tone is icier than a mountain lake in winter. “Get in here.”
I grab Gerda’s hand and grip it tightly as we cross the room.
Mother’s face is pale and drawn. She straightens and stares at us with hard eyes.
“I know what you have been up to, and I am going to put a stop to it.”
Chapter Five: Cage of Branches
Gerda steps forward to stand between me and Mother. “What do you mean?”
I glare at Nanette and Franka, who meet my furious gaze with identical self-satisfied smirks. Maybe, just maybe, Master Albrecht is right about the twins.
“Do not play the innocent with me, Gerda Lund.” Mother taps the wooden floor with the end of the poker. “It’s bad enough you ran off before, in that totally irresponsible fashion, now you endanger all of us with this foolishness. Hiding and aiding soldiers … ”
“Our soldiers.” Gerda’s implacable face mirrors Mother’s.
“That may be, but you heard the proclamation. The orders are to turn over any of our troops hiding in the area. Not nurse them and take them food. On penalty of death, or worse.”
“Not sure what you mean.” I curl my fingers until my nails cut into my palms.
“Prison camps.” Mother shudders. “Do you know what happens to girls in a place like that?”
I unclench my fists. It’s clear Mother is more terrified than angry. She is afraid something dreadful will befall her daughters. Something she will be powerless to prevent.
When I was a child, my mother was a cheerful woman, always ready with a hug or laugh. Now responsibility weighs down her shoulders, heavier than any sack of grain, and her blue eyes, once as clear as Gerda’s, are shadowed. Losing my father years ago was difficult, but at least she had Nicholas Thorsen to lean on. After my father died, Kai’s father stepped in, managing our family affairs as well as the mill. Sadly, when Nicholas died in a freak blizzard four years ago, Mother was forced to take responsibility for both families. Olivia Thorsen is no use, preferring to sit and embroider rather than have anything to do with the business, and as for Kai …
“If only Kai were here, where he should be,” says my mother, with a heavy sigh. “But no, he must pursue his studies. For all the good that will do.”
“We are not having this discussion again.” Gerda’s tone is firm. “I know you think Kai should abandon his studies to return to the village. Even though he is the most brilliant mathematician the University has ever seen. Even though our productivity is up, along with sales, since I have taken over management of the mill.”
“You have done your best.” Mother leans the poker against the stones flanking the fireplace. “Still, you should be thinking of marriage, Gerda, not running a business. Or dashing off to spend time with young soldiers. Have you no sense of propriety?”
“Varna was with me the entire time.”
This is another lie, but I’m not about to contradict her. I move to stand by Gerda. “These are just young men, Mother. Boys like Nels or Kai. One of them is seriously injured. We could not leave them to die.”
“So you decided to sneak around, right under the noses of the enemy? You know I’ve struck a bargain with the occupiers. They have agreed to keep the mill running, and even give us a cut of the profits, if we cooperate.” Mother’s gaze rakes over my face. “How do you think we would eat if they took the mill from us or, God forbid, burnt it to the ground? That is the least they might do, if they find out what you’ve been up to.”
“It was my idea.” I take hold of Gerda’s hand.
“No doubt.”
“I am a healer. I’m not going to let someone die, especially not one of our own, if I can help it.”
Mother shakes her head. “I have no quibble with your healing work, Varna, but this is different.”
I notice Mother does not speak of me giving up a vocation for marriage. No, she’s pleased I’ve found work that can provide me with a home and a livelihood. Because, of course, she does not believe I will ever marry. Especially not now, when so many of our young men have died in the war.
I turn to Franka and Nanette. “I know it was you two, sneaking around and following us. Little snitches.”
Mother bustles over to the settle. “The twins were doing their duty.” She lays one hand on Nanette’s shoulder.
Franka tosses back her lustrous mane of hair. “We didn’t plan to spy on you. We just overheard you and Gerda talking one day, after Gerda snuck into Olivia Thorsen’s house and dashed out carrying some of Kai’s old clothes. We thought it was odd.”
“So you eavesdropped?” I stare at Franka, who has the grace to blush.
“No, we just happened to be there, behind the grape arbor, hanging up the laundry. We heard you ask Gerda what she was doing and then talk about the men you are helping. Nanette and I didn’t say anything for a week, but there was that proclamation about aiding soldiers … ”
Gerda pulls her hand from my grasp and points a finger at the twins. “The words of our enemy. Do not forget that. They take over our town and then expect us to betray our own.”
Mother pushes back her linen cap with her free hand, revealing hair as bright as corn silk. “Still, we must follow their orders, or be tossed into a prison camp. Did you think of that, Gerda? Not only you, but your sisters as well.” Her fingers tighten on Nanette’s shoulder until my younger sister squeaks in protest.
I level a frosty stare at the twins. “So, doing your duty, huh?”
“If the enemy finds out, who knows what they would do.” Nanette’s words end in a whine.
The fact the twins are speaking the truth about the danger doesn’t mollify me. I long to slap those pretty faces, but crumple a wad of skirt fabric in my hand instead.
“I hope you haven’t said anything to them.”
Franka jumps to her feet. “It would serve you right if we did. You didn’t think about us when you decided to take the risk, did you?”
“Hush, Franka.” Mother releases her hold on Nanette and steps forward, until she is standing face-to-face with Gerda and me. “So far there is no harm done. But I insist you break contact with these soldiers. You have helped them all you can. Now you must protect yourselves, and your family.”
Gerda holds out her hands in supplication. “Mother, how can we abandon them? They are as likely to die in a prison camp as we are. We cannot allow that to happen.”
My mother’s eyes narrow. She examines Gerda while the grandfather clock my father hauled back from one of hi
s rare city trips ticks off the minutes.
“Gerda Lund, do you have feelings for one of these soldiers?”
Gerda lifts her chin to meet Mother’s glare. “Yes. I do. I feel they are heroes, and don’t deserve to be betrayed by the people they fought to protect. I believe we owe them our loyalty.”
I tug on the tie dangling from my linen cap, pulling the hat from my head.
Mother takes a deep breath and straightens like a ramrod. “You will go to your room. You will stay there until I tell you to come out. Varna as well. As for you two,” she shoots a sharp glance at the twins, “you will stay in the house until I decide whether, or what, we tell anyone concerning this matter.”
There’s nothing more to say. I share a glance with Gerda, then silently follow her to the stairs that lead to our bedroom.
Behind us, Nanette whines about the unfairness of her life. I concentrate on the ticking of the clock to still my desire to run back and give her a good thrashing.
***
Gerda paces the floor of our small room while I slump on the bed. “We must warn them. They need to leave the area as soon as possible. I think Anders can be moved now, although he’s likely to need Erik to lean on.”
“And how, exactly, will they get away?” I pull a pin feather through the exposed ticking of one of our pillows. “Even if we sneak out of the house and reach the cottage, how do we smuggle them beyond the village? There must be enemy guards watching the roads.”
Gerda stops and leans against the carved wooden wardrobe. “I have an idea. I’m just not sure if I should pursue it.”
“What?” I tickle the back of my hand with the pin feather. It is gentle, but can draw a line like a brush. Could be useful to paint a tincture onto damaged skin.
“The Upper Branch flows through the woods, not far from the cottage where Anders and Erik are hiding. It eventually feeds into the river, and Bae told me our troops have a camp along its banks, not far downstream.”
I sit up, dropping the feather onto the pieced counterpane. “That sounds good, but what do you expect them to do, swim?”
My sister’s eyes are shadowed beneath her golden lashes. “Nels has a boat.”
“Nels Leth? You want to involve him?”
“No, I do not, but I will if I must. His boat is moored on the Upper Branch. We could easily get the boys to the boat, under cover of darkness, and they could make their way to safety. A short trip down the river and they could join up with their company.”
Gerda’s face is alight with passion. I take a deep breath before I trust myself to speak. “Erik abandoned his company to save Anders. I’m not sure he would be any safer with them than with the enemy. He would probably be shot as a deserter.”
“Then another company, where no one knows them. In the confusion of war, who will ever find out? Or perhaps they can escape and head back home, to the city.”
“Still a problem.” I rise to my feet and cross the room. “But they do need to leave. I’m afraid Mother or one of the twins might let the truth slip, trying to protect us.”
Gerda’s eyes flash. “Protect? They are playing both sides.”
“In order to save our family business and keep us out of a prison camp.” I look Gerda over, reminding myself this is the same girl who braved blizzards and a Snow Queen’s wrath to save someone she loved. “Gerda, you’ve not fallen in love with Anders, have you? You know he already has a sweetheart.”
“I know.” Gerda stares out the window. “Which is why, if I involve Nels, I must promise to marry him once the enemy soldiers leave town. Which they will, you know, sooner or later, no matter who wins the war.”
“What?” I reach out and take hold of Gerda’s chin, turning her head to face me.
Her blue eyes brim with tears.
“Oh, Gerda, I am sorry. Still, you cannot throw everything away to help Anders Nygaard. You can’t swear to marry Nels, even if it does convince him to lend his boat.”
“Nels will do as well as any other man. He is not so bad, and he’s a patriot. He would be fighting too, if he did not have to manage old man Hendersen’s farm. Someone has to supply food to the troops, you know.”
“I understand that. But you don’t love Nels, and there is his horrible mother … ”
Gerda sniffs back a sob. “It seems I am destined to love people who cannot return my feelings. Well, if that’s my destiny, I might as well accept it, and do whatever I can to help those I care about.”
I touch the tears on Gerda’s cheeks with the tips of my fingers. “Wipe your eyes. I will help you, and our new friends, any way I can. First, we must get out of the house.”
Gerda uses the edge of her apron to dry her tears. “That is not a problem. Unless you are afraid to climb down a tree.”
“Afraid?” I make a pffing sound. “I’ve done it before. It might be more difficult in the dark, though.”
“Nonsense.” My sister wrinkles her pert nose. “I have crossed mountains on foot before.”
“Then you go first.”
We wait for the night to cloak our actions, using the time to dress in our darkest clothes and walking boots. After Gerda determines everyone in the house has gone to bed, she opens our window.
The misshapen limbs of the tree testify to its survival through many hard winters. Gerda crawls out the window and climbs down a few branches, perching on a lower limb to wait for me.
“Come along,” she whispers, as I pause with both feet resting on a branch and my hands gripping the sides of the window frame. She slips down the tree, clambering from limb to limb until she is close enough to drop to the ground.
The tangle of dark branches looks like so many arms, reaching out to pull me down. I close my eyes for a moment. If Gerda can do this, you can do this. If you can cut into a man’s leg with a knife, you can do this. Concentrate, Varna.
I open my eyes and reach for the closest limb. Digging my fingers into the rough bark, I cling to the branch and pull myself to a standing position. I carefully navigate the lattice of branches, finally reaching the lowest branch, where I sit for a moment before launching myself forward and tumbling onto the grass.
“Are you all right?” Gerda leans over me, holding out her hand.
“Yes.” I allow her to help me to my feet. “What next?”
“I’m going to locate Nels. I know we could simply take his boat, but he keeps his oars at the house, and it won’t be much use without them. You go to the cottage and instruct Anders and Erik to prepare for their escape. I will meet you there.”
“Wait.” I grab Gerda’s arm as she turns to go. “Why not ask Bae to fly them away from here? He could do that, right?”
“Yes, but … ” Gerda bites her lower lip. “I made a promise to keep Bae’s magical abilities secret. Think of what could happen if word got out. There would be circuses, and hunters, and wealthy men trying to capture him as a curiosity. You found out by accident, and now he trusts you, but I cannot risk anyone else knowing.”
“All right, we will leave Bae out of it.” I pull the hood of Gerda’s dark cape over her bright hair. “Be careful.”
“You as well.” Gerda flashes me a smile before heading off into the night.
I move swiftly toward the path to the woods, careful to remain hidden by foliage and the shadows of buildings. The guards clustered about an open fire do not notice me as I pass by, silent as a cat. Once on the wooded track, with the trees arching above me, and a bend in the path cutting off the view into town, I relax my hunched shoulders. The full moon is bright enough to light my way. I increase my strides, determined to reach Erik and Anders and share Gerda’s plan.
A figure appears from the mass of trees lining the path. I gasp and instinctively throw up my arm, as if fending off an attack.
The figure steps onto the path. It is hunched over and dressed in a tattered dark cloak. I squint and release a gusty sigh.
“Oh, Master Albrecht, it’s you.” I hurry forward, concocting a story to cover my late
night wanderings. Coming to you for medicine, Master. Someone in the village is ill. Could not wait until morning.
Before I can open my mouth the figure shifts and changes.
The cloak falls back and whips away, disintegrating like burnt paper blown by the wind. The figure straightens and broadens, until it’s no longer a ragged old man. It is a gentleman, tall and imposing.
I rub my eyes with the back of my hand. The man strides toward me, his black greatcoat billowing.
He stops a few feet from me and looks me up and down. Dark eyes flash in a face that could turn heads anywhere, even at court. His ebony hair falls back from his forehead in waves, tumbling to the high collar of his coat. High cheekbones and a narrow nose speak of nobility and restraint, but the sensuous curve of his full lips suggests something else.
He is stunningly handsome, and not at all the man I thought I knew.
“Hello, Varna.” His silky voice caresses every word. “Do you not recognize your old master?”
Chapter Six: Swept Away
I clutch my upper arms with both hands. “I don’t know you.”
“You do.” As the man’s fingers encircle one of my wrists, his other hand brushes against my breast. It feels as deliberate as a lover’s touch.
Collect yourself, Varna. This is a dangerous individual. Someone who has lied to you for months.
Because it is the same touch, the same strong fingers I thought I saw once before, when he gripped my wrist outside the enemy camp. Foolish me, I dismissed that as a hallucination. I now see the real illusion was always the old man who worked beside me.
I twist my wrist, yanking it from the stranger’s grip. “Who are you?”
He bows from the waist, elegant as a courtier. “Sten Rask.”
“I thought you were a healer.”
“That is one of my skills.”
“In addition to transforming into other people?”
His lips twitch. “Yes. Now, shall we dispense with these pleasantries? Like me, I believe you are in something of a hurry.”
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