by J. R. Castle
For a long moment, he sat silently, rocking her back and forth, before he finally explained, “I didn’t want to frighten you. I thought better you think we were stopping you than….”
“What is it?” She pushed back so she could see his face.
“The contract. Your mark.” Dadda sat on the ground beside her. “Yes, your Mother told me. She noticed it before you started wearing the shirts that covered your arms.” He hugged her to his chest again. “I am so sorry. We will find a way. You must trust me, Kardia. Please, trust me.”
Oh, but she wanted to. Time was running out for her. Yet, what choice did she have? The ugly mark on her shoulder kept her bound to Goia. Of course, the sorcerer would consider a person might try to escape.
Finally, she forced herself to nod against his chest. “Okay, Dadda. I’ll trust you.” At least, she’d try.
In the meantime, she’d do what Miltie said. They’d encourage people to change. Dadda had agreed to the town festival. That would be her chance to share what she’d learned. Maybe if the people realized what they were doing, the allegiance of Goia would return to King Shaydon. Then she’d be protected from the wizard when he came for her. She could only hope.
Chapter Thirteen
As promised, Dadda went through with helping Kardia and Miltie organize the Winter Festival. To appease Mother, they managed to get everyone to agree to bring shared meals or other means of entertainment that evening. The butcher had a pig killed and spent the day roasting it in a pit. The couple who owned the livery stable brought ponies out for kids to ride around the common grounds.
Anyone who could play an instrument and carry a tune entertained with merry songs. Kardia joined in at first until she spotted Miltie and Mr. Tillus setting up the puppet stage.
The full moon shone brightly that evening and everything was going splendidly as the people of Goia mingled and shared their best dishes and desserts. The children ran around the Commons, playing games and dancing to the lively music along with some of the adults.
Kardia couldn’t help but clap to the beat as she watched. Turning to Miltie, her grin had to be touching each ear. “Isn’t this wonderful? Everyone is so happy tonight.”
The older woman’s smile wasn’t as full as Kardia’s but sincere when she said, “Yes indeedy! I’ve not seen such a crowd in….”
“In nearly twenty years,” Mr. Tillus finished for her. He stood back to admire the stage he’d made from cloth and discarded wooden posts from the carpenter. “Let us hope they are in a good enough mood to hear the heart of your stories.”
“Okay, everyone,” Miltie waved her hands at them. “Take your places. Kardia, get your mandolin ready to set the mood for us. Tillus, are you ready with your puppets?”
He offered her a low bow. “Yes, milady.” Then he disappeared behind the structure.
They’d lit several torches around the platform Miltie stood upon. She blew out a loud whistle, getting people’s attention before announcing that the stories were ready to begin. Those interested needed to find a seat—which was nothing more than a spot on the ground.
The tales Miltie had come up with were from the parts of the King’s Book of Letters that she recalled, along with a few historical tales passed down through the generations. First, she wanted to tell people about the wonders of the White City called Aloblase.
“When you enter through the tall gates, the first thing you’ll come to is vast orchards of fruits some of you have never been privileged to taste. Apples the size of two hands.” She pressed her fists together. “Oranges that are sweeter than honey and tangy on your tongues. Eat to your fill, you’ll be told.”
Mr. Tillus had drawn a picture of some fruit trees. One of his little corn husk puppets danced and hopped across the little stage.
Kardia tried not to laugh at the silliness of their production. At least, the children seemed entertained. Some of the adults had stopped chattering to listen as well.
A few of them, anyway.
Miltie went on about the sights and the people one would meet upon entering the city. Buildings that were taller than the tallest spruce growing in the village. “We could stack three of them on top of the other and the pinnacles of the Academy would still tower higher.”
The children let out a collective gasp, their eyes growing wider. Kardia played on, plucking the strings softly as Miltie’s voice grew in confidence. She turned their attention to what she called the throne room. No matter how many times Miltie tried to describe it, Kardia simply couldn’t imagine how such things were possible.
“When you look up,” she looked up at the starry sky, “You’ll see the universe and shooting stars on some days, and clouds and blue sky on other days. When you look to the left, you might be witness to a herd of centaurs galloping across the plains, or perhaps a fleet of ships sailing on the seas that surround Alburnium. To your right, you might see a brilliant sunset or an aerial view of the Semitamon Mountains.”
“Are they liken the Radiant Mountains, Miss?” One child sitting up front asked.
“They are twice as high, my boy and cover many, many miles of land.”
Some of the children glanced back at their parents who nodded in agreement. Maybe most of them had never met King Shaydon, but they did know about the Halls of Knowledge where the Curians lived and many of the other Provinces of the land.
“How we get there?” Asked a girl that couldn’t be more than ten summers.
“Oh,” Miltie clapped her hands. “I’m glad you asked, Lillian. The only way to find Aloblase is to travel along the White Road, otherwise known as The King’s Highway. It is a very long trip for those of us in the western parts of the land, which is why the good King established the other great city of Radiance in the north. We can also travel there, again, by following the King’s Highway. The Priors of Radiance will help us get to Aloblase. One can portal from there, you see.”
Kardia’s fingers froze over the strings. This was new. Miltie had never mentioned there was another way to Aloblase. Taking a trip across Alburnium could take up to a year. But Radiance would only take half that amount of time. She’d looked on the old maps stashed in the Meeting Hall’s library.
Despite Mother insisting they call the building a Manor, Kardia still referred to it as the town’s Meeting Hall. Unfortunately, only a select few from the township were allowed entrance. Kardia glanced at the growing crowd. Almost half the townsfolk had begun to gather around, including Dadda. She began playing again. Later she would ask Miltie about this other route to the King.
Not that it would matter. She couldn’t leave Goia. Not as long as the wizard’s mark bound her here. Sometimes she wondered if it were possible to cut the mark off her arm. She’d almost be willing to lose her arm to be free of what lay in store for her.
A shudder ran down her back and she pushed the disturbing thoughts aside. Dadda had promised that he would find some way to break the contract. She wanted to believe him, more than anything.
At least he was listening.
Miltie continued. “When I traveled the White Path with my husband, we had many adventures along the way. I’ll warn you, stay on the path. The White stones will keep you safe for there are many obstacles you’ll have to get past. Threats from the enemy of the throne who’ll try to trick you into diverting your way. You see, they do not wish for Shaydon’s kingdom to grow stronger. They seek to destroy all the good he’s done, all the hard work his people have put into making the ground thrive. They will try to trick you into wandering off the glistening stones, and then…” She shook her head. “If it weren’t for the Prince, who promises to help those traveling along the way, I might have been done for, my dears. I’d allowed myself to be tricked into wandering off the path by a field of unusual flowers.”
Children laughed and Miltie laughed along with them. “I know, I know. You’re probably saying, ‘how could you get off the path for some flowers, silly ol’ Miltie?’ Well, you all know I have a great interest in unusual p
lants and those flowers were very unusual, indeed. Their fragrance was extraordinary and I’d only wanted to pick a couple to examine them…well… luckily for me, my husband was a smart fellow. And as I’d said, the Prince must have sensed our need because he showed up in a nick of time. As he’s known to do.”
“Tell us more about this prince,” several children shouted. The other joined in, clapping their hands as they chanted, “Tell us about the prince, tell us about the prince!”
This was Kardia’s favorite part. The stories Miltie told about Prince Issah. She closed her eyes as she played a somber tune, trying to picture what he might look like and hoped with everything she had that someday, she’d meet him, too.
A tear slipped down her cheek. No, don’t give up hope. Don’t do it! There might still be a way to escape the curse I’m under.
Before Miltie could launch into her tales about the Prince, there was a commotion on the other side of the commons. Several men had set large barrels on a couple of the tables. Then, to Kardia’s shock, Mother climbed on top of one of the tables, threw up her arms and called out in a loud, resounding voice, “Come, my friends. In my generosity, I have purchased these casks for your enjoyment. Bring your cups, dear friends, and enjoy a bit of ale, on me!”
Cheers went up around the common. People flocked to the tables as Mother continued to boast, “I purchased only the finest brew! I sweet talked Andres out of the stock he keeps for himself. Come and enjoy my gift to all of you.” She began dancing between the tall barrels, basking in the cheers and praises of those filling their cups with the frothy brew.
Kardia stood as half their audience departed. She glanced at Dadda who watched his wife with his mouth hanging open. Obviously, he had no idea she’d hatched this plan and didn’t seem too pleased. Marching toward the crowd, he elbowed his way through and soon Mother was pulled down from her own little stage.
Half the children had left, as well. Miltie stood on the platform, shaking her head as if unsure what to do. Kardia sat and began playing again, hoping she’d continue her stories with those that remained.
The puppets disappeared. Mr. Tillus rushed from behind the stand and hopped off the stage. “I’ll be back,” he promised, though Kardia didn’t really believe him. “Can’t miss this. What a gift the Mistress has bestowed on us. Such a fine lady.”
Miltie tried to continue her story to the dozen or so children left, but the crowd around the ale barrels had become so rowdy with their cheers and praises, it was difficult to hear her. Finally, with a shake of her head, she climbed down and headed for her cottage, not bothering to look back.
Kardia stood, thinking of going after her, but knowing Miltie wouldn’t come back no matter how much Kardia pleaded. She watched her parents arguing, but Mother seemed undaunted by Dadda’s scolding. He took her hand and pulled her toward home.
Home.
Some home it had turned out to be. Disgust, over what Mother had done, left a bitter taste in Kardia’s mouth. She’d had enough and realized she could no longer live in the Meeting Hall as long as her parents continued to misuse it. Gripping her mandolin, she started down the stage when someone caught her by the sleeve of her gown.
“I liked the Herbalist’s stories, Missus,” said a small girl of about five summers. A few children stood behind her, all of them ranging up to twelve years or more. “Will yous tell ‘em again sometime?”
Start from where you’re standing, Miltie often said. Very well, if these children were interested, she’d get Miltie to share her stories with them. Or, Kardia would memorize them herself if necessary.
“Yes. Come back on Resting Day. Come to the Herbalist’s cottage and we’ll share more stories with you.”
They clapped and cheered, then ran off to join their parents. Kardia blew out a long breath. She only had a year left and needed to make the most of it. Turning toward her ‘old’ home, she decided that she would pack her few belongings and move in with the Herbalist for good. At least the older woman was willing to teach her about plants. She could become her apprentice and help her in the gardens. That would take some of the burden off Miltie who often complained that her old bones didn’t appreciate digging in the dirt as they once did.
When she entered the large building, her parent’s voices echoed off the stone walls.
“They love us, Wilhelm. Do not despair, I did what I felt was best for us. We must remain in their favor for once the old coins run out….”
“The sooner the better!” Dadda shouted. “I’m sorry I ever touched one. I should have taken them back and let him kill me. Have you forgotten the real costs of all his?”
“She will be fine, Wilhelm. You worry too much. The Regent will be here when the snows leave. We still have plenty of time find a way to break the contract. As you’ve said so yourself, many times.”
Kardia couldn’t stand to hear any more. She hurried to her room and pulled the bag she’d hastily packed the night she tried to escape. This time, she packed more carefully and thoughtfully. Once she had what she’d need for an extended stay, she jotted a quick note for her parents and left it on her bed.
She’d reached the bottom floor when Dadda spotted her leaving.
“No, Kardia, you know you cannot leave.” He rushed after her, blocking her exit out the front door. “Don’t do this, Daughter, there is nowhere for you to go.”
“Miltie will allow me to stay with her. She will train me in growing healing herbs. I’m old enough to at least do that, Dadda.”
Mother slowly entered the room. “You will not leave you, ungrateful girl!”
Dadda hushed her. “Silence your tongue woman, you’ve done enough mischief this evening.”
Mother scowled but didn’t leave. Dadda rested his hands on Kardia’s shoulders and she had to look away. She never could stand against his pleading expressions, she loved her father so much.
“Do not leave me, Daughter,” his voice was low and only meant for her. “I need your brightness to help me during these dark days. Did I not promise to help you? Do you not realize how much you help me? My wise girl. You were right, the people needed this evening. And the stories you and the Herbalist shared, they reminded me of more innocent days, when I was a boy and my parents shared similar tales.
“They’d planned to take me to the great city; did I ever tell you that?”
Kardia finally met his tender gaze, hating how her heart was slowly being ripped to shreds, one word at a time. She shook her head.
A small smile lit up Dadda’s face. “They were going to take me to Aloblase once I reached my sixteenth winter. We were to leave in early spring. They’d packed for the long journey, though we couldn’t take more than we could carry. The White Road is not wide enough for carriage or even a one-horse buggy.”
His hands cupped her face as sadness clouded his eyes. “But, then our town was attacked by rebel dwarves. My father said they’d been sent, paid with blood money. He went out to fight them and never returned. Mother hid me in a fox den in the woods. She perished with the others for the attackers left no living souls.”
Tears made a trail down Kardia’s cheeks. How could such a thing happen? Could they be in danger of attack? Weren’t they protected by the Province in which they lived? She wasn’t sure. “Dadda, that could happen to us if we do not change our ways.”
He nodded. “I know, Daughter. I believe you. Please stay and help me figure out how to protect our Goia. I’ve seen you pouring over those books, smart girl. Share what you’ve learned with your Dadda, will you? I love you very much, you believe that, don’t you?”
She nodded. She loved him, too.
Mother cleared her throat and moved toward them, looking more contrite as she slipped one arm around Kardia’s shoulder and the other around Dadda’s. “Forgive me, my family. Can you? I love you both and have only wanted to establish a place in this town that we deserve. I do not mean to be harsh. I don’t. I only want what’s best. For us. Kardia, my dear, do not leave us in our time
of need. Stay. We’ll work all this out.”
Dare she trust Mother? Oh, but she wanted to. She wanted them to understand how important it was to forget themselves and think about the good of Goia. If she left, nothing may ever change.
“Very well,” she told them, lifting her chin higher. “I’ll stay. But I need your promise that we’ll do things differently from now on. If the Regent does ever come and sees the state of the town and how we’re misusing the Meeting Hall… he’ll have every right to drive us out.”
Dadda nodded. “I have to agree. Asmita, we must make some adjustments, my dear. Or we might end up losing everything, including our only child.”
Chapter Fourteen
The first strange thing that caught Leon’s attention were the walls lined with glittering gold. He scratched his gloved hand on the wall, finding the material crumbled away easily. “What is this?”
Riyah was at his side. “Electrum. Some call it lectros.” His brows furrowed as he ran his hand over the glittering substance. “Others call it Wizard’s gold. It’s often used by them to make their enchanted coins, but it’s generally worthless as currency in the Kingdom Provinces compared to the true gold that comes from Alburnium.” His hand dropped to his side. “Well, at least, it should be worthless. It can be made into other enchanted objects, too.”
Elder Holand stated, “I fear, the sorcerers have found out this metal permeates this portion of the land, much of it right beneath our town. Unfortunately, there are plenty who are willing to take the fake coins, including some living in Tarest.”
“How have you been able to remain sheltered here?” Riyah asked.
Leon wasn’t sure, but he suspected that anger boiled under his words. During their travels together, the Elderad had remained impassive and stoic. This was the first time Leon had a sense of ire rising up from his guardian.
“They do not know we are here, I suspect, nor care. So long as we gave them leave to take over the town.” Holand lowered his head. “We are shamed, my liege, but I ordered the retreat myself, fearing more death.”