Early the next morning, before Sam had even got out of bed, Selene ran into her room, a large key clutched between her fingers. “We can start today!” She jumped on the bed, narrowly missing Sam’s legs, and bounced like an excited school girl on the first day of the holidays. Luckily Samson was not in his usual place, having slunk off in the middle of the night.
“In another hour,” Sam muttered and pulled the covers over her head.
Selene, however, was not to be deterred. Sam soon found herself physically dragged out of bed and thrown into the dressing room, where they both soon realised that they had a slight problem. They were surrounded by dresses fit for a ball, but there was nothing there suitable for gardening in. The morning would have to be spent shopping. Allias soon gave them permission to buy whatever they wanted and he would pick up the bill, so after a quick breakfast they headed into the city, accompanied by a number of guards and Alice, to carry their purchases. The first stop was a dressmaker’s, the patron of which was horrified when Selene explained what they required. Despite being a Princess, she was soon asked to vacate the premises and not come back until she had a serious request.
Selene and Sam just stared at each other. Whenever Selene had needed clothes, the dressmakers had always come to the palace so she had no idea where to buy clothes they could wear for gardening. They were lucky that Alice was with them as she happily led the way to the shop her brothers usually bought their clothes from. People stared in amazement to see a Princess and her guards entering such a place and the unfortunate owner kept trying to measure her without touching her until he was politely informed that either he treated her like any other customer or she would take her business elsewhere.
An hour later both ladies were equipped with sturdy boots, a few pairs of thick woollen socks, a number of sets of overalls, with plenty of growing room for Selene’s belly, a number of plain cotton shirts and a large woollen jumper each. Selene thought they looked ridiculous and Sam had to keep reminding her that the attire was absolutely necessary. The guards earned their pay that day by not even smirking. Selene took note of each of their names and when she next saw her father, she requested a bonus payment for each of them.
Sam took advantage of the shopping trip to purchase a few pairs of trousers for herself, though she could only find some for boys, which the tailor agreed to reshape for her and deliver to the palace by the end of the week. Although she loved wearing all of the nice dresses that were at her disposal, she felt much more comfortable in slacks and she would need more than just the one pair she was wearing when she was transported into the current time. She also managed to find a couple of pretty blouses that went well with them.
Next came the actual gardening equipment. This time Alice was of no help, but one of the guards had a brother who ran a general store that managed to meet all of their needs. It was almost lunchtime when they emerged from the shop, the guards laden down with hoes, shovels, buckets, shears and pitchforks, muttering under their breath about being trained soldiers not pack mules. To cheer them up, Selene suggested they head to an inn for some food. She had never ventured inside an inn before and was curious, as well as thirsty. Just as she was about to walk through the entrance of the first one they came to, one of the guards placed his arm in front of her, forming a barrier.
“Not this one,” he warned. “The Black Ship is a little rough for you, your Highness.” Sam was a little surprised as she had never heard anyone use Selene’s rightful title before and had momentarily forgotten her friend was a Princess. Looking up, she saw that the guard was pointing to the sign above them. It was old and faded, with a crack down the middle of it, but the black sail on the picture of a small ship stood out, as though it was the only part that had ever been repainted.
Accepting his decision without comment, they continued down the street until they came to the next inn. Sam looked at the guard, who shook his head. “The King’s Head is the favourite hideaway for off duty soldiers. Though I have spent many a happy hour beside its fire, I would not recommend a lady enter the place.”
Selene stamped her foot. “I am hungry and my feet hurt. If you do not find me a suitable drinking establishment soon I am going to enter the next one I come to, with or without your approval.”
With this the guard quickly hurried them to the nearest inn that he knew was popular with wealthy visitors and before long they were all tucking into roast lamb and vegetables washed down with cool ale, except for Selene who sulkily drank only cooled water. “As much as I love this baby,” she muttered, “I sometimes cannot wait until it is out of me so I can have a proper drink again.”
Leaning over to Sam, she whispered, just loud enough for the nearest guard to hear, “Men do not know how lucky they are. They get drunk when they make the baby, they get drunk when they hear about the baby, they get drunk when the baby arrives. They even get drunk when other men’s babies are born and all the while the poor woman gets to drink water, sick up each morning then go through the agony of childbirth without her husband even holding her hand. I think I shall speak to father about making a law that states any man that is there for the conception must also be there for the birth and must remain sober during the whole pregnancy.”
She glanced at the soldier out of the corner of her eye, happily noting that, although he had declined to say anything, his face had noticeably turned a few shades paler.
“Are you serious?” Sam asked.
Selene appeared to think about it for a moment before replying. “No. There is not really much point. After all, what man would pass a law like that? If I ever got to take over the throne however, a number of such laws could easily be brought in. Maybe I should arrange to have my father and brothers assassinated. What do you think?”
Sam choked on her beer and Selene laughed loudly.
Her father, however, was not laughing when, at dinner time, he asked how her day had gone and she told him about her first dining experience in an inn. “You did what?” he yelled, slamming his fist on the table so hard that his plate and wineglass flew into the air, the glass landing at an angle and tipping red wine all over the white tablecloth. It took a while for the two young ladies to calm him down enough for him to listen to which inn they went into and how the guard had stopped them going into any others. As soon as the Black Ship was mentioned, he made a mental note to have the man given the weekend off and a pay increase.
Hetta was curious to see what they had purchased, so the women headed off to Sam’s room as soon as the meal was over. Selene and Sam got dressed up in their gardening gear and as soon as Hetta saw how loose the overalls were around the waist, instead of laughing, she commented that she had to get some for herself and instantly left to discuss a shopping trip with her husband in the morning. Sam and Selene looked at each other, grinning.
“You seem to get on very well with your stepmother,” Sam commented. She felt that she already knew Selene well enough to ask personal questions. “Has it always been like that?”
Selene blushed slightly, making her pale face look as though too much makeup had been applied. “To be honest, I behaved like a spoilt brat at the start. After mother died, father paid a lot of attention to my brothers and me and then along came this woman, not much older than myself, to take him away from us. Hetta behaved like the true lady she is and never reacted. Father never said or did anything to indicate he would take sides. My brothers eventually made me see sense and I began to treat Hetta as a guest instead of an enemy. Since then, we have become more like sisters than stepmother and daughter. She really is a great person when you get to know her and, more importantly, she makes father happy.” She paused and wrinkled her nose. “I must admit though, I am not sure I like the thought of having a baby brother.”
Sam laughed, looking down at Selene’s waist, or lack thereof. “I think you may be too busy with your own bundle of joy to think about anyone else’s baby.” She had not been told much about Selene’s other brother, Everet, and now did not seem the
right time to ask about him.
“You may be right,” Selene sighed, sitting down on the end of the bed, gently rubbing her bump. Her deep sadness suddenly appeared evident in her face. “It is going to be hard watching father dote over his new son while I have to bring up my child on my own. I wish his father was going to be around for the birth.”
Sam sat down next to her, trying to think of something comforting to say. ‘You were raped many times and should be glad the father is never going to know his child,’ is what she thought. What she said was, “You said his. Do you know it is going to be a boy?”
At that Selene smiled slightly. “Not for definite. My midwife says it is still too early for any of the usual signs to be showing, but deep down, I know it is my son that is growing inside me. I cannot explain how I know this, I just do.”
“The human body is an amazing thing. I am sure it has ways of telling itself things, including the sex of a baby. If you say you will have a boy, then I believe you. I know I knew.”
Selene was curious about the comment, but could see that Sam did not really want to talk about it. As she was feeling tired after her day’s excursion, she bid Sam goodnight and went to her own rooms.
Talk of babies made Sam think back to when she was expecting her own child and the joy she had felt when first telling Dean. Then she remembered the pain of losing both Dean and the child and curled up into a ball and cried herself to sleep.
The next morning, after a quick breakfast, Sam and Selene headed to the entrance gate of the garden, buckets and hoes in hand. It seemed like the entire royal household was waiting there for them, all curious to see what the garden looked like after so many years. They had all heard about it and seen the pictures that Allias’s grandmother had painted while she was in there, so they had a fairly good idea what to expect. When Allias saw how his daughter was dressed, he curled up with laughter. It took a few minutes for his laughter to die down.
“I am glad that I amuse you father,” Selene snapped and strode past him.
“Sorry,” he replied, wiping tears from his eyes. Then a horrible thought occurred to him. Turning to his wife he asked, “Those hideous things she is wearing are not what you want me to buy for you are they?”
Much to his dismay, Hetta informed him that not only would he be buying her a few pairs of overalls, but that she was sure that they would soon become the new fashion for pregnant women.
“You have a lot to answer for,” he mumbled to Sam as he passed her, though not unkindly. Selene had already inserted the key in the lock, but appeared to be having trouble turning it. One of the stable hands had had the foresight to bring a small can of oil, which seemed to fix the problem. The key turned and the gate swung open. Gasps of disappointment surrounded Sam as she moved to take a look inside.
The sight before her was worse than she imagined. Weeds, almost as tall as her head, battled with small trees to get to the sunlight. What used to be rose bushes, but now were just tangles of thorns, had taken over and the path was completely blocked. Years of dereliction had turned the beautiful garden into a horticulturalist’s worst nightmare.
“Oh god,” she exclaimed in horror. “This is going to take us years.”
Chapter 11
Tor woke up and stretched his aching muscles. He never had liked sleeping during the day. The sun was just beginning to set as he went to find Ban, who had been keeping watch for the last couple of hours.
They had been travelling at night for the last few weeks and were slowly getting closer to their quarry. So far the journey had been uneventful. When they had collected the turnips for the wagon, the farmer had thrown in a fair amount of other vegetables, as well as some bread and cheese, for the group’s personal consumption along the way. That had already run out and they had been living off a diet of meat and turnips for the last few days. At times like this, Tor envied River being able to survive on water and berries alone. It was getting to the stage where he would rather starve than have to eat another turnip. At least Hawk was keeping them supplied with plenty of fresh meat.
Ban turned as he heard Tor approach, nodding his head in greeting.
“It will still be a few more days before we reach Bedden,” he said in his deep gruff voice. “I suggest we try to sell the turnips at the next opportunity and buy more supplies from a local farmer.”
Tor nodded. He had been thinking the same thing. At the rate the group were eating the turnips, there would not be enough to adequately cover Hawk’s coffin within a few days.
After a quick meal, they set out again. River was beginning to dream of a warm comfortable bed, and she was not the only one. For some reason, the ground seemed much more uncomfortable to sleep on during the day than at night. Although they were spending the days hidden in forests or small groups of trees and bushes, during the night they were travelling on the main roads; it would have looked suspicious to do otherwise now that they were well within Kinfen’s borders, supposedly on honest business, if you can class illegally taking goods across the border as honest that is.
They passed numerous small villages, but never stopped. Most inns closed their doors during the night and Tor had no wish to explain to an inquisitive innkeeper why they wished to sleep during the day. Just before daybreak, Hawk joined them, laden down with a large number of freshly killed pheasants, and informed Tor that there was a small town a few miles ahead of them, suggesting it would be a good place to try to sell their turnips; he too had been noticing the dwindling supply.
Tor agreed and sent everyone out in different directions to look for a place they could camp. This time they could not just bed down amongst trees as they would have to find somewhere to hide the coffin. Occasionally other travellers had wandered into their camp and joined them for a meal, or just to pass on news, and Tor had no idea how he would be able to explain why they had a coffin with them. In Kinfen it was unheard of to transport the dead back to their home; they were just buried wherever they died.
Seth, Grimmel and River rode in the wagon, continuing along the road as the others searched. Slowly, one by one, they drifted back, with nothing to report.
“Frack,” Tor swore, under his breath. They would have to wait to sell their goods if they couldn’t find a safe place to hide Hawk. Although he had been reluctant to have him join the team, and had only allowed him to do so due to blackmail on the part of Mama Rose, he found he was beginning to really like the man, despite the fact he was a vampire, and was not prepared to expose him to unnecessary risk. He was just about to order that they make camp for the day in the nearby trees when Grimmel, standing up, called a halt. He jumped down from the wagon and ran to examine a nearby signpost. When he returned, he was grinning.
“We can camp here,” he said. “Just give me a few minutes to find the entrance.”
“The entrance to what?” Ria enquired, but the dwarf was too busy scouring the nearby boulders to answer her. After a few minutes he called out and they all went running to join him. They found him struggling to push aside a huge rock. Ban gently moved him aside then pushed the rock away with one hand, grinning down at his little companion.
“Show off,” Grimmel muttered, then walked into the gap left by the moved rock. The rest heard the familiar sound of someone trying to light a fire, then saw the flare as the fire took hold. Grimmel returned to the entrance, holding a torch, then beckoned for them to follow him. They found themselves in a large cave. It was only just tall enough for Tor to stand up straight and Ban had to remain bent over, but it went back a long way and there was a small trickle of fresh water in one corner. To their amazement, they also spied a table with benches, bowls, plates and cups and a couple of sleeping pallets.
“It is a half-way cave,” Grimmel informed them. He went on to explain that, a long time ago, dwarfs had set up resting places for long journeys. They would travel for a fair distance, set up a camp similar to the one they were now in, then return home. Next time they would travel to the already provisioned camp, st
ay the night then continue their journey to set up another one, before returning home again. In this fashion, over the years, the dwarfs had managed to set up enough resting places to cover almost any journey. There were travelling groups of dwarfs whose sole purpose was to check that each was still adequately provisioned and the secret markings on signposts were still visible, so any travelling dwarf always had somewhere to stay.
“I wondered why I had never seen a dwarf staying in an inn before,” Seth commented. “I just assumed it was because the beds would be too big.”
Grimmel ignored him. “I would appreciate it if none of you ever mentioned this to anyone. This is one of the dwarves’ best kept secrets and, to the best of my knowledge, no non-dwarf has ever been in a half-way cave.”
As the entrance was too small for the wagon to fit through, they unloaded Hawk, in his coffin, and all of their gear. It was decided they would all have a quick bite, then get some sleep, before Tor, Seth and Ban would set off to try to sell their turnips and buy replacement goods. While Seth was an excellent negotiator, and Tor a good minder, especially when he kept his sword in full view, Ban’s presence would stop anyone trying to rob them, either figuratively or physically.
River and Grimmel took first watch over their supplies, then took the sleeping pallets when the wagon and its occupants headed out toward the town. It had not gone unnoticed by Tor that the dwarf and the water sprite were spending more and more time together, but he decided not to comment. He was beginning to think that Grimmel was the reason that River insisted on joining them. No guard was needed, as Ban had closed the cave entrance and all of their supplies were either in the wagon or the cave, but Patrick and Ria opted to spend the rest of the day outside, hiding in the nearby trees, in case Tor and the others had difficulty finding them again.
The Guide Page 14