Ashes

by Lauralana Dunne

  A guard held a thin bugle to his lips and blew. The brash notes tumbled over themselves into the night air, climbing steadily in pitch and tempo to announce the arrival of the procession. The darkness hung in silence when he finished. The sound of a single horse prancing out of formation was all that could be heard.

  “Can they really hear tha’?” Phoenix asked Sylvia.

  “It was certainly loud,” she answered. “But...”

  “Wait for it,” Malcourt told them, his horse coming to a halt at the front of the wagon. Phoenix could detect a smile in his voice when he said it.

  A muffled shout rolled across to them from Castle Angor. The clanging of a metal gate carried easily across the distance, heralding the spots of fire that multiplied and danced into life across the tops of the battlements. They arranged themselves in a row and stood suspended in a flickering line.

  Powder snorted and pawed at the ground restlessly.

  “Hold,” Captain Rolf commanded, unmoving in his saddle. Phoenix didn’t know if he was speaking to the horse or to the soldiers around him.

  Another muffled shout accompanied by muted whistling. The line of fire shot into the air, arching gracefully in different directions away from the castle, disappearing into tiny points of lights that were swallowed by the shadows. Phoenix stood in her seat to see if she could follow them in the dark.

  “Arrows fired!” rang out a voice.

  Several hollow thunks rang out as the arrowheads found their targets. There was a whoosh of air, and several pyres burst into life across the fields. One by one they ignited, tar and tinder spreading pools of light out into the darkened path.

  Captain Rolf lifted his fist. “Steady men!”

  Distant pyres burst into flame on a delay, spreading outward in a web of light so that the entire meadow was bathed with a muted glow.

  “You may want to sit down, Phoenix,” Malcourt cautioned her, making a show of peering over the rocky lip at the edge of the road. “I don’t want to lose you down there.”

  Phoenix sat back down and gathered Kit up in her arms. She felt embarrassed thinking that everyone was waiting for her, then foolish when she realized that Rolf wasn’t paying her the slightest bit of attention. His gaze was captured by a dark spot in the distance.

  The group remained motionless in silence until one last pyre sputtered into life. Rolf snorted with disgust.

  “Go see what the holdup was,” he ordered to no one in particular.

  The soldier next to him clapped his fist to his chest and spurred his horse forward, two others following in his wake. The bugle wailed shrilly, and the rest of them began their descent at a much slower place.

  Phoenix’s nervousness made the ride pass too quickly, while also making it seem exceptionally slow. The Captain was not rushing them, but the pace he set seemed faster than it should have been for horses that were traveling all day. Especially for ones that had been pulling a wagon.

  All too quickly, they reached the gates.

  The heavy wooden doors - each one as wide as Phoenix was tall - stretched open in welcome. The thick metal lattice in front of them had already been retracted up out of the way, secured in position by a heavy chain. Phoenix eyed the metal points suspiciously as they rode under them, as if expecting the heavy spikes to break free and crush the wagon beneath them.

  The grounds were expansive. She’d heard that whole farmlands were enclosed behind the stone walls, but if they were there they rested out of sight beyond the castle. Phoenix couldn’t see the extent of the land in the darkness, but she could see by the lit space alone that all of Avondale Farm could easily settle inside.

  They came to a second set of gates. Another set of walls – this set higher and thicker than the previous ones – acted as a barrier between the travelers and the castle.

  Kit’s ears twitched from all of the noises rushing out to greet them. She gave an inquisitive bark and gathered her legs to launch herself out of Phoenix’s arms. Phoenix quickly tightened her grip on the young dog.

  “Try to keep her out from underfoot,” Sylvia cautioned. “You don’t want her getting lost in all of the commotion.”

  “Sylvia’s fans get rather excited when she arrives,” Malcourt added in an even tone. Sylvia opened her mouth to respond, but a trumpeting of brass from one of the soldiers next to them interrupted her before she could say anything.

  Shadows stretched across the courtyard. They flickered and danced, becoming smaller as more torches were lit around them. It was hard to see much of what was going on. Phoenix was conscious of all of the men around her, and the warmth of Kit straining in her lap. Another fanfare echoed the first, this time subdued and coming from the top of the wall ahead of them.

  “The greeting bugle,” Sylvia told her. “They’ve recognized the Captain and now they will open the secondary gates.”

  “That should get everyone excited,” Malcourt added dryly. Noticing Phoenix’s confusion, he gave her a smile. “Usually once the gates are closed for the night they tend to stay that way.”

  There was a great screeching as the metal doors moved under protest. A welcoming beacon of light spilled out onto the field.

  Captain Rolf took the front and led them through the main gates into the inner cloister of the castle.

  Phoenix was surprised to find yet another courtyard between them and the building. The entire Proper could hold here if needed.

  The castle towered above them. Flaming pyres were spread across the grounds, illuminating the courtyard and the walls around them. Two towers stood imposing on either side of the courtyard, and Phoenix could only guess that there were others from the glints of roofs that could be seen in the distance.

  What captured her attention was the life-sized statues that lined the walls and spouts of the castle.

  Various creatures in an assortment of poses stared back at her. They all had reptilian faces. Arched wings and lashing tails splayed from their bodies, making the carvings seem larger than life against the plain backdrop of the stone walls. No two were alike. Their expressions and poses changed from one statue to the next. Even their outfits were unique. They were so lifelike that, at any moment, she expected the stone to shift and slither away with the day’s lengthening shadows. Phoenix stared at them apprehensively. She had grown up hearing that the gargoyles would get her if she misbehaved. How strange it was that the castle embraced them as decorations for their walls.

  Onlookers peered out of doors and windows to watch the late arrivals. Several came forward to assist with the horses and belongings.

  Kit wiggled out of Phoenix’s arms, slipping out of her leash, and hopped down next to the wagon. She ran circles around it excitedly.

  “Kit,” Phoenix hissed, embarrassed by her barking. “Hush! You’ll upset th’ castle!”

  Malcourt chuckled as Sylvia reined in the horses. “She’s young and excited. We’ll give her a pass. Besides, I doubt that anyone’s concentrating on what they’re doing with all that foolish trumpeting going on. Ah, Camden, there you are.”

  A lanky youth with a shock of dark hair had joined them silently. “Camden, this is Phoenix. She’ll be joining us for a time. Will you take her donkey and settle him and Powder for the evening? It’s too late now to sort things out properly.” He said the last part almost as an explanation, but the boy nodded and, with a bow, unhitched Powder from the yoke and led the pair away.

  Phoenix watched Muler go with a twinge of apprehension.

  “Master Malcourt!” An out-of-breath runner stopped before him. “They’re waiting for you in the royal bedchambers, sir.”

  “Yes, of course they are. Thank you. Alan, this is Phoenix. Take her to the girls’ dorm and get her acquainted, will you? Ruby will know what to do with her.” Malcourt gestured to Sylvia, and she hopped down from the wagon as he dismounted from his horse, clutching the pouch that was attached to her belt. Without another word, the two hurried towards a winding side staircase and disappeared from view.

&nbs
p; Phoenix smiled nervously at the runner, who was eyeing her clothes with a look of disdain. “C’mon, then,” he said, jerking his head curtly, giving her the impression that he had better things to be doing than escorting her around. “Leave the dog,” he added, seeing her struggling to untie her lead. “Ruby’ll rage if she sees it. One of the stableboys’ll take care of it.” He started across the courtyard without another word.

  A young boy of about twelve years gave Phoenix a smile. “I’ll see to her.”

  Phoenix returned the smile and watched him pat Kit on the head, then she grabbed her carrysack and hurried to catch up with Alan.

  They trudged silently through a main corridor. People paused to look at them; most offered her a smile in greeting before turning back to their tasks.

  Phoenix felt strangely heartened by the friendly atmosphere. It was a welcome change after the hostility on the farm.

  “Why’s the Mastercaller care how you get on, anyways?” Alan asked, almost accusingly, as he led her up a set of wide stone steps.

  “Who?” Phoenix asked, pulling her attention towards him. She was only half-paying attention as she was trying to remember the turns they had taken. She wanted to be able to find her way back to the courtyard on her own.

  “Mastercaller Malcourt,” he repeated carefully, as if he thought she was slow. “You came with him, remember?”

  Stung, Phoenix opened her mouth to reply in kind, but as they came to the top of the stairs her retort died on her lips.

  A set of double doors opened in front of them, offering a view of a large furnished chamber. They entered the room without pausing, and Phoenix hastily glanced down at her boots to make sure that they were clean enough for her to enter.

  The room was immaculate. Multiple couches and cushioned chairs were set up, their focal point being a carved stone hearth that was heaped high with wood. A large rug tied the room together with a warm splash of color, accenting the large woven pictures that hung on the walls. Phoenix gaped as she looked around the room in awe.

  “Hey! What are you doing here?” A girl of about fifteen years had entered from another door and was regarding the pair with her hands on her hips. Her dark blond hair was tied back out of the way, but several defiant curls had escaped to frame the sides of her face. “You’re not supposed to be here.” She spoke loudly, and with an authority that surprised Phoenix.

  Phoenix stopped walking, feeling unsure, but the girl’s eyes were focused on Alan. “This is the girls’ dorm. Get out.”

  “The Mastercaller told me to find Ruby,” he replied with just as much authority, as well as a hint of consternation. “And you ain’t the boss of anyone, Raena. So help or get outta the way.”

  “Yeah? Well, Ruby ain’t here. I am.”

  “Well, you shouldn’t be!”

  “Ha!” Raena laughed. “You’re one to talk.”

  Phoenix was shocked by their squabbling. Feeling at a loss, she was about to interject when the sound of a steady drumbeat cut through the air.

  Arrested by the triumphant look on Raena’s face, Alan glared at her. “Toads,” he muttered and, turning sharply on his heel, ran back down the way that they had just come. Phoenix stared after him in surprise.

  “Don’t mind Alan,” Raena told her. “He just started looking to Masterrunner Tal and now he thinks he owns the place. The drums let him know there’s a message that needs delivering. I think it’s perfect because it’s a great way to get rid of him. Anyway! I’m Rae. What did you say your name was?”

  “Didn’t. It’s Phoenix.” Despite the girl’s earlier posing, Rae seemed downright friendly as she looked at Phoenix. “I was sent t’ look for Ruby?”

  “Mistress Ruby. The Dormmaster. She runs the girls’ dorm, so I wouldn’t leave off her title in her hearing. She’s nice enough, but proper when it comes to rules.” Rae glanced out the window, taking note of the level of darkness outside. “She’s probably escorting the other girls from their lessons to evening’s meal. It’s far too dark out for them to walk the halls by themselves. Their parents pay for a leader, so she watches them like a hawk.” Her expression was both smug and dismissive at the same time, and Phoenix was unsure of what to make of it. “So, why’s Master Malcourt taking care of you?”

  Rae’s look was intensely curious and Phoenix felt slightly embarrassed. Why was he taking care of her? “He said I could come ‘ere t’ th’ castle with him when we met out on th’ road.”

  Rae’s eyes widened. “You only just met him out traveling? Seriously? What did you do - walk up and introduce yourself and talk to him and everything? That’s so brave.”

  Phoenix couldn’t tell if she was joking or not. “I found his camp out in th’ storm by accident. I was already travelin’, but I ran into a pack o’ hounds-”

  “Stormhounds?” Rae squeaked. Phoenix thought the girl’s eyes were going to pop out of her head “You fought Stormhounds and survived?”

  “Not fought. Jus’... outran. Me an’ Muler. He’s m’ donkey.”

  “Outran? On a donkey?” She looked impressed. “No wonder Malcourt brought you here. Hey,” she looked at Phoenix thoughtfully, “you don’t have the Calling, do you?”

  Phoenix was confused by her question. “Am I callin’ wha’?”

  “No, silly. The Calling. You know...” She wiggled her fingers, and then waved her arms dramatically for a moment before finishing off with the sign for warding off evil. Her half-smile gave the impression that she did these things in jest.

  Phoenix stared at her.

  “Or not,” Rae said. “Never mind.”

  They looked at each other for a moment, the silence awkward between them, then Rae burst out laughing. Even Phoenix felt her mouth curve upwards.

  “C’mon,” Rae told her. “I’ll show you around.”

  ***

  The dining hall held more people than Phoenix had ever seen before. The room stretched open before her, the hum of various conversations a welcoming buzz.

  Tapestries much grander than those in the girls’ dorm brightened the walls, their dyed threads a bridge between the large colored-glass windows. The weavings depicted noble-blood, in various scenes - hunting or posing in suits of armor. Most of them boasted crowns and finery that were heavily-laden with jewels.

  The scalloped ceilings arched into darkness above her. Back at Avondale, some of the men had to duck when they entered the Lodging. Here, even the glow from the hearths couldn’t touch the inky shadows that pooled between the rafters.

  Phoenix dropped her gaze, following where Rae led. Multiple long tables and benches were set up in the room, the diners striding purposefully towards them as though they had pre-assigned seats. A quick assessment had her guessing that they sat according to rank.

  “All o’ Avondale Farm could fit in here,” Phoenix breathed.

  “This is only the small one.” Rae plunked herself down on the bench next to Phoenix. “The big one is used for celebrations.”

  “Yeah, but we haven’t had any since old Benedict got sick,” a boy across the table interjected.

  Rae hissed at him to be quiet. “That’s King Benedict, Toby. Do you wanna get in trouble?”

  “Yeah, right,” he sneered, but his eyes darted around the room with the warning. “My Da says he won’t be King for long if he don’t hurry up and sit back on the throne. The Land’s going to forget all about him.”

  “Well you and your Da better keep those thoughts to yourselves. Are you looking for trouble?”

  “Wha’s wrong wit’ th’ King?”

  Everyone around her turned to stare in disbelief, causing heat to bloom in Phoenix’s cheeks.

  A gong sounded, and a line of scullers began to carry laden platters from the kitchens to the Head Table.

  The small boy next to Toby leaned forward. “Hey, Rae. How come you’re not serving tonight?”

  “I cooked all day so Tessa gave me service off,” Rae answered. Her tone turned conspiring and she lowered her voice. “Hester made br
oth.” Everyone within earshot gave a knowing nod and pushed their bowls to the side.

  “Hester?” Phoenix asked, as baskets of bread circulated among the lower tables.

  “One of the older cooks. She’s kind of... past her time, but Tessa still lets her help out with the food - and I help out in letting people know when she helps out.” Rae gestured to those sitting around them.

  Now that the food was being passed around, conversations became smaller as everyone concentrated on eating. She turned to Phoenix. “So, you really don’t know about the King?”

  Phoenix shook her head, breaking open a bread roll. “No one ever tells a... farmgirl anythin’.”

  Rae nodded, taking that as a logical explanation. “Last year King Benedict became ill. It wasn’t bad at first - you could barely tell if you passed him in the halls - but last season he stopped coming to meals. Now he never leaves his room.”

  “It’s from a Caller’s curse, if you ask me,” Toby said intently, nodding meaningfully towards the Masters’ Table. Phoenix followed his gaze, expecting to see Malcourt, but several of the chairs on the dais remained empty.

  Rae shushed him again.

  Phoenix ignored him, but it was harder to ignore the snickers from the youths around them.

  There was a sound of growling as two dogs fought over a morsel of fallen food. One of the scullers ran towards them and clapped his hands, shooing them from the hall.

  “They should be locked up with the hunting dogs,” Toby muttered disdainfully, stuffing half of his bread into his mouth. “I dunno why they’re even allowed at evening’s meal.”

  “Probably because no one asked you,” Rae answered sweetly.

  “Aw, lay off, Rae,” the small boy next to him drawled. “He’s just jealous that the dogs are more popular than him.”

  “Shuddup, Dustin,” Toby sputtered, showering the space in front of him with crumbs. Everyone around him laughed.

  “You came with a dog, right, Phoenix?” Rae asked, seeing her scan the floor. Phoenix nodded quickly, feeling her guilt turn to surprise. Rae laughed. “News here travels fast. The Huntswoman always takes care of all the new arrivals. Her Apprentice took her when you arrived? Don’t worry. Your dog’s probably settled in the kennels already.”