‘Of course!’
‘Then go and get some.’
‘I’m not moving –’ began Sharra.
‘Unless you want your dinner raw.’
‘Dinner? Do you have food? Why didn’t you say? I’m starving.’
‘I’ll find us some. Get the firewood.’ Maven turned his back on Sharra and stomped off towards the woods.
Half an hour later she had collected a pile of sticks. She laid them out carefully in a rising tower in a space between the wall and some fallen stones, where the fire would be sheltered from the wind. Feeling pleased with her handiwork Sharra headed back round to the wood side to wait for Maven. She leaned back against the cold stones and in a short while she drifted into sleep and dreamed of Ivory chasing her along endless corridors.
When she awoke the sun was vanishing below the trees. The daylight was fading into silver as the moons rose, spreading a silvery sheen across the landscape. There was no sign of Maven. Sharra was cold and her feet were numb. Where was he? Had he taken her at her word and left? Had he been eaten by the Darkness? Stiff as a crone, Sharra struggled to her feet, levering herself upright by pushing against the wall. ‘Maven?’ she called frantically, ‘Maven?’
‘I’m here,’ said a voice behind her.
Sharra jumped, whirled and banged her face on the wall.
‘On the other side. You’ll find it easier if you try coming through the gap rather than the wall.’
‘It would be easy to dislike you, rescuer or not.’ Sharra clambered over the rock pile. Maven was crouched down on the other side, busy with the fire. He looked up when she appeared, but said nothing. She saw he’d gathered branches from the Molin Tree to form a soft bed for each of them. There was also some kind of skinned creature spitted on a stick. ‘Sorry about dismantling your sculpture.’
‘Sculpture?’
‘Your artistic pile of sticks.’
‘I laid a fire.’
Maven stopped striking his flint and looked up for a moment. ‘You serious?’
‘I did my best.’ She felt hot tears start in her eyes. She pulled her hood up over her head, so he wouldn’t see her face.
‘Don’t you want any dinner?’
‘No,’ she lied. Maven did not try and persuade her otherwise. She heard the slight whoosh as the kindling caught and shortly afterwards the smell of cooking meat wafted over. Her stomach growled loudly. Pride prevented her from going back to the fire. Sharra fell asleep to the sound of Maven enjoying his meal. It seemed to Sharra that he smacked his lips far more than was necessary.
She woke to bright sunlight and a sensation of creeping cold. There was dew on her cloak and Maven’s roaring fire was now only a small mound of smoking embers. She sat up and stretched out her stiff limbs. Oh for a warm bath! Maven wasn’t on his pile of Molin. Then she had a double realisation, she needed to pee urgently and that was where it was most likely Maven had gone. Choosing a direction at random and hoping that she wouldn’t come across Maven in an embarrassing position, she made her way into the woods and found a secluded place.
When she returned to their makeshift camp Maven was waiting for her. His face was very stern. He opened his mouth to speak. Sharra felt herself flush crimson. Maven closed his mouth and nodded. He kicked over the fire and walked off. Sharra followed.
The countryside around them was waking. Birds called to each other, telling of the rising sun. A low mist spread across the fields, swirling around their ankles, but rising no higher than their knees. Sharra found it disconcerting at first, but Maven didn’t even seem to notice so she tried to ignore it too. It made her legs cold. The moons were slipping below the horizon. The light changed slowly from silver to gold. A sliding through a range of silvers, greys, rusty reds and yellows played across the open fields.
‘This is so beautiful,’ gasped Sharra involuntarily.
Maven didn’t turn round. ‘It’s dawn. You can see it every morning if you’ve a mind.’
‘It’s incredible. Awesome.’
Ahead of her Maven shrugged and kept walking.
‘It makes you feel everything is going to be all right, doesn’t it?’
Maven stopped. He waited for her to catch up but didn’t say a word. There was something in his face and in his eyes that frightened Sharra. Without knowing why she said, ‘Sorry.’ Maven put his finger to his lips and they walked on in silence.
By mid-morning Sharra’s feet were extremely sore. She’d wrapped the remains of her boots and stockings around her feet as best she could, but this was no substitute for a decent pair of walking boots. She’d got to the point where she knew she would need to beg Maven to stop soon, so she could rest, when they crested a small hill and saw the Hold in the distance. Sharra let out a squeal of delight. Maven winced. Sharra forgot her sore feet and set a smarter pace. At one point she almost overtook Maven, but he too began to move faster as they neared their goal. Only too glad to be rid of me, she thought.
Camden Hold faced the world with two great round towers linked together by a short wall and at the centre stood a large double gate. Through this Sharra could see a courtyard, flanked by more walls with further towers. Unlike the friendly jumble of Milton Hold, Camden towered fortress like atop its hill. Already a steady flow of people were approaching the Hold, streaming in from the outlying villages, Maven had so cleverly avoided.
He knows I’m a fugitive, thought Sharra, and he still helped me. She looked up at the silent, dark, man by her side. Without turning he said, ‘Do you know what you’re going to say?’
‘I’m going to tell them who I am.’
Maven stopped and looked her up and down. ‘You think that will be enough?’
Sharra drew herself up to her full height. ‘I am a Map Maker’s daughter.’
‘Hmm.’
‘You can leave me now, if you wish.’
‘I’ll see you through the gate.’
Two men in Camden livery, carrying ceremonial pikes came forward. ‘Your business?’ the taller one said brusquely to Maven.
‘I’m bringing her. Found her in the fallow fields.’
‘And why would we want her?’ asked the other guard gruffly. He was shorter with a dirty red beard. ‘She doesn’t look old enough to be of any entertainment worth.’
Sharra felt Maven go tense. He spoke carefully through gritted teeth. ‘She has family here.’
‘Servants use the East Wall. This one’s for the Map Makers and their guests.’
‘I’m a Map Maker’s daughter,’ said Sharra, finally finding her voice.
‘And I’m The Great Worker’s nephew.’
‘I doubt that,’ snapped Sharra. ‘If you were only related to one of their clerks you’d have been taught better manners. I am Lady Sharra Milton. I am a guest of Lord Camden. Send word I am here and that I need a reward to be given to this man for escorting me.’
‘Now then, Missy, this isn’t the time for fairy tales,’ began the short guard. The taller one nudged him. ‘She’s rude enough to be one of them. How come you are like this?’ he gestured to her clothes. ‘And with him?’
Sharra drew herself up wishing she was taller. ‘There was an incident with my carriage. The details of which need not concern you. This man has come to my aid and I ask in Milton’s name he be shown hospitality.’
‘There’s no need for that,’ said Maven. ‘Once I know you’re safe I’ll be gone.’
‘Reckon we’d better show them both through to the Seneschal.’
Sharra had the deep satisfaction of being recognised by Harli, who was the current Camden seneschal. A tall, thin man in his middle years, with a tapering brown beard that went beyond the dictates of fashion and into the realms of eccentricity, he’d visited Milton a few times when she was younger. ‘Sharra!’ he exclaimed in amazement as she was led into his small, vaulted stone office. ‘What happened to you? We feared you were lost.’
‘Almost, Harli. This man, Maven, kept me alive.’
‘Then we owe you a d
ebt of gratitude, Maven. Please accept Lord Camden’s hospitality after your journey. Unfortunately the Lord is most concerned with the Lands meeting this afternoon, but we can offer a place to refresh yourself and a decent meal. I’m certain the Lord will be eager to see you this evening. Stay for tonight and set out fresh tomorrow.’
‘Please,’ added Sharra. ‘You deserve a reward for putting up with me.’
Maven nodded. ‘I suppose I do.’ Harli laughed, but Sharra recoiled as if he had struck her.
‘Lady Sharra has always been a bit of a handful,’ Harli said with a smile. ‘They still tell the story at Milton of her attempts to ride her father’s charger when she was only nine summers. Fortunately, she landed on soft ground.’
Maven made no reply. There was an awkward silence.
‘Right, yes,’ said Harli. ‘I’ll send for a maidservant to take Sharra away and I’ll take you over to the East Wall myself, Maven.’ He pressed a small bell on his desk.
‘The East Wall?’
‘Yes, indeed. We have some very commodious guest rooms there.’
‘I’m sure you do.’ Maven shot a look at Sharra. ‘Goodbye, your ladyship, I doubt we’ll meet again.’
‘Goodbye, Maven,’ said Sharra in a smaller voice than she liked. ‘I am grateful to you.’
There was a tap at the door and a girl in the long grey skirt of a maidservant came in. ‘This is Lady Sharra.’ The girl’s eyes grew very wide. ‘She needs a hot bath and some fresh clothes.’
Sharra’s stomach growled.
‘And food,’ said Harli smiling.
Sharra didn’t smile. She was glad to see Maven didn’t either. Suddenly, she found herself not wanting him to leave. He was horrible and rude, but he’d kept her safe. Sharra felt very alone.
‘My lady?’ The maidservant opened the door.
Sharra tried and failed to find words. Maven gestured with his head for her to go and she did. As she passed him, he whispered very low, so only she could hear. ‘Be careful.’
The bath was wonderful. Salla, the maid, brought her a tray of snacks to sit by the bath. ‘I shouldn’t. It’s probably bad for you, but I know that look.’
‘Look?’
‘The one you’ve got on your face. It’s exactly what I have at the end of a long day. Means I’m right starved.’
Salla also found a salve for her bruises. She exclaimed over the number and size of them. Sharra barely felt her ministrations; her mind was in turmoil. A voice at the back of her mind kept nagging her that Ivory was kin to Camden. Was she safe here? But where else could she have gone?
Later, fed and clothed, she stood on the black and white tiles in the audience chamber in front of Lord Camden and told him her story. It felt odd. Camden was the same age as her father. It was almost like explaining herself to him, except, except, she couldn’t rid herself of the sense of danger.
She found herself saying, ‘I am so sorry to have caused all this trouble, Lord Camden. My carriage suffered an accident. I suspect due to the lack of geared suspension.’ She smiled petulantly. ‘My escort went for help, but when after some hours they had not returned I decided to make my own way. It was a very foolish decision and if it hadn’t been for the kindness of a country woman and the man, Maven, I seriously doubt I would have arrived here safely.’ Nothing, she felt nothing, from Camden. Any emotion he had was tightly locked away.
Camden’s sharp green eyes narrowed. ‘Your escort left you alone?’
‘I did have four outriders, but we lost them in the fog.’ Would I believe this? she thought.
‘And this farm you came across? Where was this?’
I never said it was a farm. She spread her hands at waist height and shrugged. ‘What can I say, my lord? I was lost.’
‘Indeed. Indeed. Well, we’re happy to see you here, Sharra, safe and sound. And looking so grown up, too. You’re becoming the image of your mother.’
Sharra looked up sharply. No one but her father and Ivory ever mentioned her mother. Camden was studying the ceiling as he thought aloud and didn’t appear to notice. ‘I’m afraid you’ve missed the lands council meeting. Jayne Gory stood in for you.’
‘Jayne is here?’
Camden waved a hand. ‘Passing through. But as she had a strong connection with Milton Hold we thought it best to use her. I’ll see you get a copy of her notes to take back with you. As I’m sure you were told this meeting was very much to keep the local people happy. With Milton’s appointment to the Central Archive many things will have to change. It might even be we see Gory running Milton for him.’ Camden smiled, but his eyes stayed cold.
‘I’m sure Dame Ivory would welcome the company of her daughter and son-in-law.’
‘So you think she will not be joining your father at the Central Archive? Why is that?’ Camden leaned forward, flinging the question at her.
‘I-I don’t know. I thought perhaps she would wish to stay and run the Hold herself.’
‘Or perhaps you know that Ivory feels she has done her time at the centre of the world and feels it should go to another?’
‘I really should not speculate on the intentions of the Dame Mother. It is only that I find it hard to imagine Milton Hold thriving without her guiding hand.’
Camden leaned back in his chair. ‘Indeed, without Ivory the place would have gone to wrack and ruin years ago.’
Sharra gasped. Camden waved his hand dismissively. ‘My apologies, Sharra. Everyone knows your father has little interest in what lies beyond his Cartography Halls. That and his little theories are the world to him.’ He smiled. ‘He really is a superb Map Maker.’
Sharra said nothing. Camden had made the compliment sound like an insult. There was a lengthy pause. Camden cocked his head on one side considering her. Sharra forced herself to smile, but her heart was pounding. Only two guards, Harli and Camden, knew she was here. If she was right that Ivory had arranged the attempt on her life then might not her once brother-in-law support her? Suddenly, Sharra had to know if she was safe.
‘I’m sure my father will be eager to know of my safe arrival. Perhaps I could send him a note via your way-station?’
Camden sighed. ‘Poor little Sharra. You’ve had such a terrible time. I think the best thing for me to do is hand you back to your family. You’re really too young to be playing these games, but you are Milton’s daughter. There is nothing you or I can do about that.’
Confused, Sharra forced herself to stay calm and gave him a vapid smile. ‘Thank you, my lord.’
A figure emerged from the shadows at the edge of the room. ‘And who better to take care of you than your step-mother?’ said a familiar voice.
Two guards seized Sharra by the arms. Ivory swung open a small door. ‘This way, my dear, we have your quarters ready.’
The guards hustled her down a flight of stairs and along a bewildering number of small twisting and turning passageways. They saw no one. Behind her Dame Ivory’s shoes cracked loudly against the stone. Finally they reached a wooden door. Ivory unlocked it and gestured to the guards to push Sharra in. ‘Remain outside,’ she commanded. ‘I must have a few words with our guest.’
Sharra found herself in a dingy cell. A thin beam of light drifted down from a high, very small and barred window. Dirty straw lay on the floor. She tripped over a pile of filthy rags.
‘Careful, you’ll disturb your bedding.’
Sharra turned to face her. ‘You cannot do this to me.’
‘Camden shies from outright murder.’ Ivory sneered. ‘Men are so weak. But his memory can be quite accommodating. I suspect he will already have forgotten you were here.’
‘You mean you’re going to leave me here to die?’
‘Perhaps, if you ask nicely, I might find a quicker way.’
‘What! Why are you doing this to me?’ said Sharra.
‘Revenge.’
‘It isn’t my fault my father never loved you.’
‘You are the cause of far more woe and pain and death than y
ou can possibly imagine.’
Sharra slid down onto the floor. ‘You’re mad.’
‘Everyone would think I was mad should I tell them what you did with that little Map in the library.’
Sharra gasped. ‘You do know!’
Ivory shook her head. ‘Until now I only suspected. Annoying and difficult as you are, even I didn’t believe you were a monster. Milton swore to me you were tested.’
‘I was. My father said I was found to have no talent. I didn’t think I could . . . I didn’t mean to . . .’
‘In many ways you are fortunate I have the ending of you. If the truth of your talent were known the whole of Milton Hold would be disgraced and punishment would extend further than you.’
‘My father? He doesn’t know.’
‘Perhaps, but such an offence would carry penalties for all your family. It really is better, Sharra, if you disappear quietly. Console yourself with the thought that this way you will be saving your father.’
‘But you’ll kill him!’
Ivory frowned. ‘I never had any intention of harming Milton. I am very fond of him.’ She stepped forward and ripped the necklace from Sharra’s neck. ‘When I send him this, it will be you that breaks his heart and spirit. Your death will cause him to resign his place at the archive and retreat to where he belongs.’
‘It must make you so happy to finally have a target for your hatred.’ Sharra gritted her teeth. ‘Whatever happens to me my father will never love you!’
‘Under the crushing grief of your death I think I can ensure he turns to me. I will send him a note immediately informing him of your sad demise at the hands of bandits.’ Ivory knocked on the door. It opened and a guard appeared, weapon at the ready. ‘I’m finished,’ she told him. She turned to look at Sharra. ‘There is no hope, my dear. Sometimes the best one can do is accept one’s fate with dignity. I am told your mother faced her execution with courage.’
‘Execution?’
‘Your mother killed my first husband. She was a monster – like you.’
Ivory walked out of the door. Sharra heard the sound of a heavy lock turning. She buried her head in her hands and began to weep. She no longer knew what was false and what was true, but she knew she was going to die.
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