by T J Muir
As she stared at the paper, words blurring, her head began to drop, and she fell asleep.
“I brought you some breakfast. Nothing fancy but at least it's hot.”
Diya jolted upright, shaking herself awake. She came out, tugging at her hair in a futile attempt to make herself presentable.
“Sausage rolls, hot tea, hard boiled eggs.”
“You went down into town?”
Marrick shook his head, his mouth full of sausage roll. “There's an old lady who lives partway down the hill. She makes a good living feeding flyers. I waited until no one was around. Most of the fliers have headed out, so the timing worked out nicely.”
As he spoke, he reached into the wrapped bundle.
Diya dove into her breakfast and remembered all of the times she had picnicked with Jedda and Trey which made her long for happier times. However, she was ravenous and having a hot breakfast was an unexpected blessing. After they were done, Marrick wrapped up the papers and put them aside.
“I also brought you this,” he said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small bag,
“Is that--?” She sniffed, curious and excited.
She snatched the bag, smiling. “Spiced chocolates! I love you!” She popped one into her mouth, tasting the sweet chocolate and orange followed by cloves and pepper.
“Better?” Marrick asked, watching her.
“Much.”
He looked up at the clouds and then looked over at Diya. He shifted his seat and cleared his throat. “While we have a little time, I thought now might be a good time to talk about what you should expect.”
Diya swallowed the chocolate, feeling it hit her stomach like a hard lump. Anxiety and curiosity. “Oh yes, I suppose I should know what will be expected of me.” Visions began to race through her imagination, standing amid piles of dirty clothes, baby diapers and stacks of pots to scour.
“Also, Diya is a very regal name and too easily recognized.”
“You want me to change my name?” She was aghast. However, as soon as she said that, she knew the truth of it. “What about Lindan. Or Danika. What about Dravinia?” From the look on Marrick's face she could tell none of her choices worked.
“Let's keep it closer to your real name, something you will respond to when you hear it.”
“Jemma?”
Marrick frowned.
“Do you think that's too close to Jemindiya?” No one used her full name except when she had been presented at formal, official events, or was in a lot of trouble.
“No,” but Ash’s wife, her name is Jinna, so that’s awfully close. Maybe something else?”
Diya thought for a moment, trying to remember names of people she had gone to school with. Names that weren’t close to her own. Her brain failed her. All she could think of was one girl, completely unremarkable, from White coast. “Cazze’en?”
“That sounds nice,” Marrick nodded thoughtfully. “Cazze’en. Generally sounding southern, without sounding so’har.”
“Okay, then. Cazze’en.” She realized it was a name very far removed from any associations she had with Tatak Rhe. That must be why it had popped into her head. “So, you were telling me about the family,” she said, bringing their conversation back to the things Marrick wanted to explain.
“Ash, Ashok is my older brother. The estate near Dunwood is where we both grew up. He's married, to Jinna. She's struggled with lung sickness for years and is now in need of help with the children.”
The lung sickness. It was less common in the southern region where weather was warmer, but Diya knew it was a dreadful condition. People died from it, and the ones who didn’t often had difficulty breathing even after they recovered. She wondered what Jinna was like. Was she young? Diya’s age? Maybe they could become friends. Then she remembered that she would be working for the family. “What kind of help?”
Marrick reached into his jacket, pulling out a pouch of tobacco. “Mostly overseeing them. I know the twins have a private tutor, so you shouldn't need to help with schooling. Maybe making sure they do their work. Keeping them on good behaviour. One thing that would be the best is if you could get them to go out and do things. Since their mother took ill, both of the twins are reluctant to go beyond the yard. They had one bad scare a few years back, and now both of them are terrified something bad will happen when they are gone.”
That didn't sound too terrible. “You said there were three?”
“Right. I don't know much about the younger one. Last time I saw her she was running around laughing and happy.”
“When was that?”
“Two? Maybe three years ago?”
“What will I need to do with her?”
“Probably get her up and dressed in the morning, making sure she eats, take her for walks? Read to her?”
Watching Marrick, she began to wonder if he knew any more than she did about taking care of children. “Oh and they ask a lot of questions.”
“Questions?”
Marrick laughed. “Lots of questions. ‘Why is the sky blue? Where does the sun go? Why aren't horses blue? Why do goats sound like babies? Why are lemons yellow?’ Questions.”
Hearing Marrick rattle off bizarre and random questions caught her off guard. Hearing questions she didn't have answers for made it worse. Why was the sky blue?
Marrick sat up, rubbing his shoulder, and looked up at the sky. “Why don't you try to get a bit of rest. I'll nap out here.”
She didn’t think she was tired, but she had no trouble falling asleep. She didn’t know how much time might have passed.
“Wake up kitten,” Marick's voice called softly, pulling her awake and away from a dream where she chased Jedda across an open field.
“The wind’s good on the backslope, and I’ve spied a number of fliers up already. I'd sooner have us go now rather than wait till nightfall.”
Diya pulled herself up, rubbing her sore shoulders. She had slept long enough to feel the ache from the previous night. “I'm awake.” She felt glad of the pain, it took her mind off her dreams. “Where is my pack?” she asked, coming outside.
“Already loaded.” She frowned.
“Was there something you needed?”
“A brush for my hair. Or a comb will do…” She sighed, shoulders drooping.
“All set otherwise?”
She nodded. “As good as can be. For now.”
Before long, Diya was buckled into the harness. The flier hurled itself over the lip of a rocky cliff before it dropped sharply, then lifted, beginning its climb. Her stomach heaved, and she was glad she hadn't eaten much.
The daytime flight was more enjoyable. It was windy and chilly but bearable. Hills came into view and melted behind them. Rivers sparkled brightly, reflecting sunlight like diamonds on green velvet. Forests and fields, farms and villages passed beneath her. She tried guessing where they might be, but maps had been Jedda's passion more than Diya’s.
It was late evening when Marrick signaled and began to circle the glider gently to their right. This landing was bumpier than the previous one, and Marrick struggled to hold the flier steady and bring it to a stop.
“Where are we?” Diya asked, looking around, seeing nothing but field and trees.
“A neighbors field. It's the closest place to make a safe landing.”
It hadn't occurred to her how much open space a flier needed to make a safe landing.
“Wait here,” he said, tossing down a bundle of blankets that landed with a dull thump under a tree with one hand and pulling out his flask with the other.
“Where are you going?”
His hand trembled as he lifted the flask to his lips. Dark shadows under his eyes spoke of his exhaustion, but Diya knew he’d not fail in his duty. He’d continue until he had fulfilled his obligation to get her to safety. Marrick merely wiped his chin, telling her, “To fetch up some transportation.”
She nodded, too tired to argue. She knew their primary goal was to keep her completely out of sight
, so she didn't bother asking to go with him. Instead she settled down on the blankets and leaned up against the tree. Her eyes felt heavy, and she closed them for just a moment. The sounds of a wagon creaking woke her, and a pony whuffed as Marrick drew it to a stop nearby.
Diya helped Marrick break down and load the flier onto the back of the cart. She had done this before. She and Jay had helped Marrick work on his flier, so she had an idea of what to do. Before long, the flying contraption had turned into bundles of metal and canvas that she barely recognized. Then together they climbed up on the seat, and with a “Git!” the cart rattled off down a dirt track into the woods.
“Tell me more about where I will be staying?” she asked as the wagon jostled along.
“Before we do that, how about we go over your cover story.”
“My name is Cazze’en. I was in love with a man who was not suitable for marriage. My family was attempting to find a suitable match. There were a few. I didn't care for any of them. My parents insisted on forcing me to spend time with them in the hopes that I would relent. One of them in particular kept pressing his suit, making grand gestures. When that was not successful, he became erratic and unpredictable. He attacked one of the other suitors, causing serious harm to the man. After he was caught on the family’s estate, my parents became worried for my safety. His family has influence and ties to many places, so they decided I needed to go into hiding.”
As the words came out, Diya felt the true parts of it especially the part where Jay was not suitable to her family. She turned her head away. Marrick must have sensed her distress, and he shifted his position to wrap an arm around her shoulders. He grunted and scratched at the stubble on his face. Then he nodded his approval. “Good. Just remember, lying works best when you keep it simple. The more complex the story, the harder it is to keep straight. Fortunately, your story isn’t that far from the truth, and if you meet anyone else, just be the children’s nursemaid and avoid going into any details. Chances are that no one will ask you directly, but be assured they will ask questions about you and gossip among themselves.”
Diya nodded. It sounded like the way things were in Tatak Rhe with her friends and with the house servants. She pulled her jacket closer and relaxed against Marrick’s shoulder. She did her best to fight back a yawn. “Tell me more about your family.”
“The children? I don't know them very well, but my brother Ashok is a good man, a master builder with a good reputation who travels by necessity. His wife, Jinna, she has a lung sickness as I said. She’s a good woman but frail now. Ashok says she is worsening and does not want her taxed with the daily care of the children.”
“And remember, they don't have a houseful of servants and staff to wait on you. There's a cook and a groundskeeper as well as someone who comes in to clean, but don't expect silver breakfast trays. You'll have to take care of your own clothes.”
“What? I'll have to wash my clothes?”
“You probably won't have to wash them, but you will need to at least collect the things you want washed and bring them to the laundry.”
Relief washed over her. She had no idea how to clean her clothes and would have ruined all of them before she figured out how to get them clean.
“What about the children?” she asked, changing the subject.
Marrick shrugged. “Like I said, I don't know them. The twins are maybe in their tenth year? Twelfth? No, wait. They were born the year I crashed my flier and broke my arm. So fourteen years. Esha and Pasha. And a younger child, Tilda, Tilly. She must be around her fifth year...?”
Diya could tell from the sound of his voice he was guessing, trying to remember something about them based on past recollections. She did not press. He was weary enough as it was. She fought back a yawn and rubbed her face, exhausted. It didn't take long before she slumped against Marrick's shoulder as the cart trundled along.
She startled awake when the cart came to an abrupt stop. “What?” she asked, digging her knuckles into her eyes.
“We're here,” Marrick said, sounding strained.
Diya looked up, bleary-eyed, at tall trees, mostly pine, a wide lawn and a manor house that had windows glowing with soft light. She hoped someone was expecting them. Overhead, stars blazed in more colors than she ever seen in Tatak Rhe. Then she saw a small flare of light in the sky, faint colors drifting across the stars— or was she just imagining it? She wanted to ask Marrick but she was tired, and she was struggling to keep her eyes open now. She would ask him when she woke up.
Marrick shook her gently, disengaging the arm that had held her during the ride. A blanket fell from her shoulders, and she shivered in the chill night air, colder than she was used to.
She pushed her hair back and blinked hard to clear her head, but she wasn't very successful. Marrick was already removing her pack from the back as Diya pulled herself up and climbed down from the cart. She noticed a couple approaching from the house. They walked up to Marrick. She heard a quick exchange in muffled voices, and then the rugged-looking man picked up her bag and disappeared into the house. The caretaker, perhaps?
Marrick hugged the woman. “Korina, it's good to see you again.” He turned back to Diya and spoke loud enough for her to hear clearly. “Korina, this is Cazze’en. Cazze’en, Korina.”
“Casseen?” Korina asked, repeating the name. The woman had tried, but she got it wrong.
Marrick repeated it for her but she missed it again. Finally she shrugged and said “Cassie.”
It wasn’t a difficult name. Diya wasn’t sure if she should be offended by the bungling. It wasn’t her real name, so it shouldn’t really matter, she decided. Diya smiled politely but then yawned. Her eyes burned, and she tried squeezing them shut for a moment. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled, but Marrick either hadn’t noticed or was trying to be polite on her behalf. He continued talking, trying to sound enthusiastic.
“Korina makes the best apple tarts anywhere in the world. If there is anything you need, just ask her, but remember, she rules the kitchen.” He smiled a lopsided grin. “Do you still have that spoon?”
“And I still know how to use it on fingers that steal treats,” she said, smiling back.
“I remember well.” Changing his tone, he brought the conversation back to the present. “And if Cazze’en needs anything? You can also order things, as well, right? She will need warmer clothes. She doesn’t have any winter clothing.”
Korina nodded. “Some boxes arrived yesterday.”
“That was faster than we could have hoped,” Marrick said. “So she will have something to keep her warm.”
“H’aint that cold. Almost spring,” Korina said, chiding Marrick.
The two talked for a little while, but Diya felt far away and light-headed. She edged close enough to hear better, wanting to know if they were talking about her. “A sad state, indeed. Family is beside themselves.”
They said something she couldn't hear. Then, “No, there's no babe, thankfully,” Marrick voiced, “It's been a long trip. She may be fevered.” Diya nodded to herself, satisfied that their ruse seemed to be working so far, and she did feel exactly the way Marrick described her.
“Hot tea and a warm bed. A good night's rest.” the woman Korina said.
“That will do wonders for her.”
Marrick looked up and saw Diya by the corner of the cart. He reached out an arm, inviting her to join them. “Is my brother not here?”
“Nay. He's been away, left just after your arrangements had been made. Relieved, too. He's doesn't like leaving with no one to mind the children.”
Marrick nodded. “He's well?”
“The mister? Quite well.”
“Jinna?”
A small frown and a furrowed brow told Diya everything. “She has good days and bad ones, but as the little ones h'aint bein so little anymore and her doin poorly more than not...” the voice trailed off. She looked over to Diya and changed the subject. “We've fixed a room for you,” Korina said. That felt wonderfu
l, but she realized the woman was talking to Marrick.
He just shook his head. “Unfortunately, I can't stay. I'll need to get back so I can get into the air with first light.”
Diya's heart lurched. Marrick was leaving? Now? She wasn't prepared for another goodbye. Not this soon. Irrational, she knew, but she felt abandoned.
She could feel hot tears stinging her cheeks, a sharp contrast against the cold air. Korina stepped back and allowed them a moment's privacy while they said their goodbyes.
Diya clung to his arm, trying not to panic. It wasn't a fear of being away from home. That she was well used to from traveling and schooling. It was the very real fear that she wouldn't see him— or any of her family— ever again. Consider forever. That had been his words back in their family meeting. Deep inside, she hoped Jay would find a place for them, and she wouldn’t be staying very long.
She wrapped her arms around Marrick. In truth, this goodbye was harder than with her parents. Marrick, who had looked after her and spoiled her, was more of an uncle than her relatives had ever been.
Finally, she felt Marrick's arms gently disengaging, holding her at arms' length. His voice was so low, so no one but Diya might hear, “If it's safe, we will try to keep in touch. Remember your story. Keep the lie simple and close to the truth. If pressed, feign distress and explain that it hurts to talk about. Understand?”
Diya nodded, sniffling. “If you have an emergency, send it in a letter from Ash to me, and assume it will be read. Understand?”
“”Of course you’ll read it,” she said before grasping Marrick’s meaning. “Oh, I understand.” She should assume that anything written might be read by a spy. It had been drilled into her numerous times, but now she could feel the urgency in Marrick's tone, trying to impress this upon her one final time.
“This will be good for you, kitten. You need to be away, at least for a while. So much is going on, and you’ve been through a lot. I know you’ll miss your friends, and that you really love Jay. Trust us, okay?”