by Greg Curtis
Twenty minutes later Baen had the enchantment completed, drawn out on the roof in a form of invisible ink that only someone with a gift would be able to see. He was proud of his work. Even if no one ever knew he'd done it. From now on every pigeon released from this roost would fly directly for Cedar Heights and his roof. Then, after a quick bit of food for the flight ahead, and with a new message affixed to their legs, they would head off to their destinations. And everybody would be happy.
The King would be happy, because his decree had been given. The soldiers would be happy because they had sent it off exactly as they were supposed to. And those receiving the commands would be happy because they were the King's orders, received with his Royal signature on them. They might be a little confused when they read them, but he was the King. It was not their place to question him.
Pleased with his work, Baen grabbed a sheaf of message papers and headed back inside and down the stairs, stepping carefully over the still sleeping body of the now drunk soldier on his way. He was in a hurry, though he had to be careful not to show it or do anything to draw attention to himself. But he had a long ride ahead of him. One that he was anxious to start.
He had to get home before morning to start writing the King's new decrees when the pigeons arrived. Maybe, he thought, he'd start with a simple one. That all chariots were to be banned from the cities. After all, everyone knew that two wheels was the way to go!
Was this treason, he wondered? Baen wasn't sure. He was sure that the King would call it that when he found out. But really, Baen thought, it was survival. The King had betrayed those like him with gifts. He had started this war. Now it was going to be up to him to finish it.
Chapter Twenty Three
It was two weeks before Dariya made it to Cedar heights. The first week she'd camped out in the trees keeping an eye on the outpost, looking for any sign that her plan had come undone. A sign like a division of soldiers arriving there with weapons at the ready. But while she saw a few messengers arrive at the outpost, none were armed and all left peacefully. And so, after a week with no sign of soldiers coming to the Order, she’d decided she was relatively safe and it was time to leave.
It had been interesting though watching her funeral – at least she assumed it was hers as it was too distant to make out the name on the box even with binoculars. Still, it looked like a nice service, the members of the Order not for a moment letting their guard down as they played the part of solemn mourners.
After that she'd headed into Helmsford, thinking she needed to do something about her appearance and get some supplies. There she'd discovered that things had become decidedly strange. The first sign was the mob of angry chariot drivers shouting and screaming in front of the city hall. King Richmond had apparently decided that chariots should no longer be allowed to be driven within the cities.
It was a strange decree, but it was a good one in her view. Not only did she not like chariots being driven at break neck speeds through the city, as the focus was on the mob and not the stranger who had just arrived in town it meant she could simply wear her hair long, buy a shawl and a hat and no one paid her any attention Not even when she rented a room at a boarding house She’d paid for three days so she could spend some time researching her mother's history in the library and book stores. In particular, she was looking for any mention of a circlet.
She did find a picture of one on her mother's head. It was a copy of a portrait hanging in the Royal Gallery. But other than that, it wasn't mentioned. And there wasn't much mention of her mother save as Amberlee the Wicked. A lot of her mother’s life before she had arrived in Castle Alldrake seemed to have been overlooked by history. That had struck her as strange. She was sister to King Andris as well as Duke Barnly. It seemed though that history only wanted to dwell on the most sensational parts of her mother’s life.
Then on a hunch she'd ridden out to Castle Alldrake and discovered exactly what she'd feared. Bodies were being dug up by dozens of soldiers, presumably searching for her mother’s body in the hope that she had been buried wearing the damned circlet. She doubted they would find her though. For a start they were looking in the wrong place. They were digging through the mass grave where most of the bodies had been laid. They didn't know that Dariya had buried her mother several hundred yards further away on a small rise hidden by some shrubs. She'd never mentioned that. Moreover, there was already grass growing on her mother's grave.
Dariya had to wonder why they were so interested in the circlet. It was just a piece of jewellery, wasn't it? A visit to the wizard to perhaps get some answers was the only hope she had of finding out, Dariya thought and had then turned her horse toward Cedar Heights. But along the way she'd encountered yet more madness.
Madness that began with roads flooded with prisoner transports. Apparently, the King had now decreed that witches weren't to be hung after all, but instead were to be exiled to the Hallows. So every southbound road she crossed was jammed with prison transports, and with them soldiers escorting them and often enough families following. She'd never seen anything like it.
How were the Fae feeling about that, she wondered? She couldn't imagine that they were happy about having hundreds and maybe thousands of people simply ejected into their lands, even if they were gifted.
But the madness hadn't stopped there. Every Council across the realm had been commanded to hold fresh elections in three months’ time. And every officer within the city guards of the rank of Captain and above was ordered to attend training in Bolton Weir, the easternmost city in the realm. So every road she was on either had prison transports heading south or guardsmen riding east. And every town she visited had no Council but endless numbers of candidates in the streets calling for people to vote for them. It was chaos!
Unfortunately, Dariya discovered as she reached the end of Fielder's Line, the madness wasn't just out in the world. Some of it had apparently leaked into her head. Because she'd ridden right past the book store without seeing it. How could that have happened? Had she lost her wits? And why were there trees growing along some of the roads?
Confused and just starting to worry a little, Dariya turned her mare around and headed back the way she'd come. This time she would not simply ride past the book store. But by the time she reached the alehouses, she realised she had done so. Again!
It wasn't possible! But was it possible, she asked herself? Had she somehow gone to the wrong street? Was Baen's Books not on Fielder's Line? She had been so certain it was. But no matter how carefully she looked, she couldn’t see it. Her memory was clearly playing tricks on her.
Dariya looked back up the street and spotted one of the Fae walking down the street and called out to him. “Baen's Books. I can't seem to find it.”
“It's just down there,” the man pointed further down the street. “You can't miss it.”
But why was he smiling as he said it, she wondered? She didn't trust that smile. What did he know that she didn't? But he was already walking away and there was nothing she could do but retrace her path down the street once again.
It didn't help. By the time she'd reached the end of the street, she was almost beside herself with disbelief and frustration. Where was the damned store?! And why had that damned gold skinned man lied to her?!
“Miss Morningstar.”
A man called out to her just as she was thinking about turning around and trying the street yet again. And when she turned to see who it was, it was the wizard.
“Wizard?” It was him! But why was he arm in arm with an old woman in tattered clothing? Except that she realised that the woman wasn't that old. She was middle aged at best. And her clothing wasn't so much tattered as decrepit. There was even mould on it. Moss could be seen in places. And her hair looked like a small thicket – with a hat on top! Actually half a hat since the other half was hanging down, attached to the rest of it by a few strands of cotton. She looked like a living scarecrow!
“Have you met my Aunt Millie?”
&n
bsp; Aunt Millie? She knew that name, but she couldn't quite place it. Until something about her hair reminded her. “Your aunt who lives in a jungle?”
“What jungle? It's a perfectly fine garden, Girl!” the woman answered her, clearly upset by her description. “Keep saying things like that and you won't be invited to high tea!” And then she threw her head back a little as if she was offended.
“High tea?” If what she remembered being told about the aunt was correct, that would be a very dangerous thing. Or was that the other aunt? She couldn't remember.
“It's better now,” the wizard told her. He'd obviously seen the look on her face. “Safer. The Fae have been talking to her, and some of the food's edible.”
“Baen Walkerton! How dare you tell stories like that!” Aunt Millie turned her attention to her nephew. “My food is excellent! And I'll have you know I'm famous for my high teas! I will not have you making fun of them!”
“Of course Aunt Millie. I spoke out of turn and I apologise.” The wizard lowered his head a little. “But I should take you home. You must be tired after all that walking.” He suddenly looked up at her. “Would you care to join us Miss Morningstar?”
“Of course Master Walkerton.” She agreed immediately and dismounted. If nothing else it looked like it might be the only way she was going to find his store. But then even as she joined them, a question occurred to her. Why was no one looking at them? There was a woman dressed in mouldy clothing, covered in dirt and dust and maybe even spiderwebs, walking down a city street, and no one was paying them any attention! They weren’t even looking!
It had to be magic she decided. More of the wizard's trickery. But it was too soon to ask awkward questions. They'd met only a few times and didn’t really know each other. Plus his aunt was with him. Dariya wrapped her horse's reins around her wrist. For now it was probably best just to play along.
The three of them set off, heading down one of the side streets, talking about nothing more than the weather and current fashions in clothing – something that seemed ridiculous coming from the mouth of a woman in a moss-covered jacket and mouldy skirt. But it occurred to her as they walked that Aunt Millie had once been a fashionable woman. Her clothes, before they had aged so badly, had been of good quality and a fashionable cut. They certainly weren't the clothes of a working woman. Then a sparrow suddenly landed on her head, and Dariya was left almost speechless.
There was a sparrow on the woman's head! She just couldn't stop staring at it. It took all of her strength to look away. Especially when the bird started chirping. The Protector was right she realised. Baen might be annoying but his family were completely crazy!
Then unexpectedly, things became a little more insane. The woman started tossing pine and sycamore seeds out on the ground. One by one she could see her throwing them, and watch them spinning down through the air to land on the clay.
“Wizard?” She pointed at the seeds in his aunt's hand.
“It's quite alright,” he told her when he saw what she was pointing at. “Aunt Millie is just making the city a little more pretty. Isn't that right Auntie?”
“Of course, Dear. So many bricks and so much bone hard clay on the streets. It's a wonder that anybody can breathe here. Especially with all that foul smoke streaming from the factories.”
How did the woman expect throwing a few seeds onto hard clay ground would change things? It was ridiculous! But a few minutes later they passed another street and she looked down it to see trees growing out of the clay. Trees that were five and six feet high. They had to be at least six months old, though that was impossible as they hadn’t been there the last time she'd visited the city. It was then that she remembered the aunt's gift and the truth hit her.
“You're making those trees grow!” She blurted it out without thinking.
“Well of course!” Aunt Millie smiled at her as if she was a small child who'd just learned something obvious. “What would be the point of planting seeds if they aren't going to grow? And we don't want this dead land to strangle all the life out of the city forever, do we?”
Dariya didn't quite know how to respond to that. So she just smiled and nodded as if it all made sense. But, for the Lady’s sake the woman was growing forests on the city streets!
Already she could see the effect as the streets were empty of wagons. No horses and carts. Everyone was being forced to walk around the trees to get to wherever they were going. Why didn't someone cut them down? Foolishly she asked.
“They can't of course,” the wizard answered her, a grin growing from one side of his face to the other. “Not since King Richmond issued a decree that no one can cut down trees in a public place. There's a huge fine!”
“But roads?! Streets?!” She didn't understand.
“Streets are a public place!” He waved vaguely at the people walking down them. “See!”
Again Dariya didn't quite know what to say to that. But if the roads turned into forests no one would be able to travel along them. And why had King Richmond issued such a decree anyway? She hadn't heard that one before. Clearly her cousin was starting to lose his wits. He was turning Grenland upside down with his daily decrees. It wasn't only the Walkertons who were slipping a few cogs. And then she noticed the bird droppings on the wizard's coat. Maybe his aunt wasn't the only one who had a sparrow problem.
It was best, she decided after that, to keep her thoughts to herself. These people were clearly mad – but it would be best not to point that out to them. Especially not when she needed the help of the wizard.
So she kept quiet as they walked back to Aunt Millie's house, and then when she discovered a wildly overgrown primrose hedge that stood twenty feet tall and at least a hundred yards long, she decided she should never say anything about it ever again. This she guessed was the jungle that people had mentioned. Somewhere inside it was supposed to be a stately home. But if it was anything like the woman's clothes, she suspected it might be in bad shape.
“Well, it was lovely to meet you Dear,” Aunt Millie announced, turning back toward Dariya as they stopped outside her gate. A small picket gate that was completely covered over by the primroses. “But you really must do something about that hair of yours. I know it's the modern way, but really, no woman of substance should ever be seen without her head properly covered. A scarf just won't do.”
With that Aunt Millie waved her hand and the entire hedge simply opened up for her, while Dariya stood there in shock. A woman with a sparrow nesting in her hair and wearing mouldy clothes was daring to give her advice about how she should dress! It was unbelievable! Dariya would have protested save that when she looked in the woman's eyes she knew Baen's aunt genuinely believed she was a woman of style. More than that she really was trying to help her.
There simply was no word to describe that degree of lunacy! But as she watched the woman walk through the opening in the hedge and then carefully shut the gate behind her, she realised that the woman had powerful magic! Powerful indeed if she was able to reforest a city in a matter of weeks.
That of course led to another question – why was Baen helping his aunt? The question struck her as she watched him wave goodbye to his aunt before she turned and headed into her jungle while the hedge returned to its former state. He hadn't struck her as being crazy.
“I'm sorry.” The wizard smiled sheepishly at her after his aunt had vanished from sight. “She really does mean well. But she's been alone so long and some of the social niceties have gotten a little mixed up in her head. She really does imagine that she is a woman of high station simply taking a promenade through the city. And that people should come to her for advice.”
“I understand.”
“Actually, you don't. This is an improvement on how she was a month or so ago. She actually left her pet rat behind this time.”
Her pet rat! Dariya almost choked. She didn't know if he was joking, but suspected he was telling the truth. Best to change the subject she thought.
“You know
that turning the roads into forests is a bad idea? It will destroy the city,” she said as they turned around and headed back.
“That depends. If it's only part of the city and those living inside that part are trying to remain private, it could be a good thing.”
“Private?” She thought about that for a moment before the obvious answer hit her. “You're creating a sanctuary in the middle of the city for witches!”
Of course they were. A forest right in the centre of the city, complete with hundreds of houses already built. A place where the city guards wouldn't be able to go. Where they would be safe. She wasn't sure if it was madness or genius. Perhaps it was a little bit of both.
“A sanctuary?” The wizard mused on the word for a bit. “I like that.” He nodded, satisfied.
“Anyway, you were coming to see me for a reason?”