by Jeri Baird
They trekked in silence to Zander’s home. How would his crude hut appear to someone who lived in a manor?
Father stood open-mouthed as Elder Warrin explained how he had paid Zander’s bail and the charges were dropped. Elder Warrin must have bribed the sheriff, for bail money did not dismiss charges. How long would it take to pay the debt? Even if his duties were pleasurable, he would still be bound as a servant.
After he agreed to Elder Warrin’s offer, his father helped Zander pack his few possessions. As the elder waited outside, Father whispered, “Do what he requires. This is your chance at a better life than I could give you.”
“Don’t you want me to be a furrier?” Hadn’t Father accused Zander of aspiring too high? Then it hit him. Father wasn’t drunk.
“This is better. Maybe Elder Warrin can protect you where I can’t.”
“Protect me from what?”
“The quest. Maybe Moira will respect an elder’s wishes better than mine. There.” Father handed Zander’s pack to him.
“But, Father,” Zander hesitated.
“Don’t question me, Zander. Do this one thing. Be valuable to him. Become a son to him.”
Become a son to Elder Warrin? A brother to Greydon and Dharien? That would never work. “You need me to hunt for you. I’ll still bring you pelts when I can.” Zander’s chest tightened. Was Father glad he was leaving?
He stroked the wooden heart as he left the only home he knew. As the calm filled him, he sensed his life shifting. He gave a sharp whistle, and Shadow crept from behind the house to slink at his side. Zander glanced sideways at Elder Warrin to see if he minded. Zander wouldn’t leave his pup with Father. When the elder didn’t comment, Zander let out his breath. Shadow would come.
At his estate, Elder Warrin led Zander to a room in the stable. Zander threw his clothes on the small bed with a faded blue coverlet, and Shadow disappeared underneath. A dusty window let in the afternoon light. It was small, but a room of his own, and more than he had with Father.
Zander scratched his head. “I don’t understand. I’ll be living in the stables?”
“Have you ridden?”
“No.” He ran his tongue over his chipped tooth, remembering his only experience on a horse. When he was seven, he’d pestered a Protector into lifting him onto his horse. When a wagon of kettles spilled nearby, the horse reared, and Zander flew into a post. The man’s kindness had planted Zander’s dream to become one of the protectors. He didn’t think it counted as riding.
“As I thought.” Elder Warrin leaned against the door frame. “You’ll be riding with me, and I want you trained.”
Zander’s heart raced. Was his dream to come true? “Will I be trained as a Protector?”
Elder Warrin burst into laughter. “No, Zander. The son of a furrier does not become a Protector. Only those born to it receive that honor. You’ll be my hunter.”
Heat flushed through his body, and Zander turned so the elder wouldn’t see his red face. He stroked the wooden heart and regained control before facing the elder.
While nodding to a door across the hall, Elder Warrin studied Zander. “My marshal, Fulk, lives there. He manages the stable, and he’ll teach you to ride. I want you to spend as much time with the horses as you can. Your meals will be brought here. You aren’t afraid of the horses, are you?”
“No, Sir.” Not afraid of horses, just terrified of riding one. Zander shuddered. “Am I restricted to the stables then?”
“You’re not my slave, Zander. You’re free to come and go as you like. It’s to your advantage to stay. It’ll take a while to repay me. The more time you spend helping Fulk, the faster you’ll start earning your own money.”
“Sir? Why would you do this for me?”
Elder Warrin grinned. “You’re the best marksman I’ve seen in a long while. You honor my house with your talent. And Fulk can use your help in the stable.”
“Thank you, Sir. I’m sorry to have caused you trouble.”
Zander settled into his room. Could he overcome his fear of riding? What kind of man was Fulk? He didn’t have to wonder long.
“Boy!”
He whirled to find the largest man he’d seen filling his doorway.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Alexa
Alexa twisted the hem of her tunic. Zander wasn’t at their lesson, and Father Chanse wasn’t happy.
“Anyone seen Zander?” the priest asked as he stood behind the empty seat.
The other questers shook their heads, but Dharien stared at his hands. He’d come in with a swollen eye. Dharien didn’t like Zander. Had they fought? If Zander had given Dharien a black eye, what had Dharien done to Zander? Something was wrong, she could feel it.
“He’s obviously not coming,” Melina Odella said. “Chanse, it won’t hurt Zander to miss a little history.” She lowered herself into Zander’s chair. “The quest is a part of our tradition. Although we have very little contact with others, we think we’re the only village whose young people are tested this way. Perhaps because of our isolation and the way we must depend on each other, Moira devised a way to ensure our youth will grow into productive and strong adults.”
The priest paced behind the circle of chairs. “When the gulch was first settled, Moira appeared to the fortune-teller and the priest in a vision. She explained the quest and set out the rules. Throughout the centuries, there have been few changes. Every child who is sixteen on the first day of the New Year begins their time of magic, which culminates in the quest six months later. The earning of tokens and omens determines who will survive.”
“Not always,” interjected Melina Odella.
“What?” The priest frowned.
The fortune-teller stared at Alexa and then glanced at the priest. “It’s been years since we’ve had twins in the quest. Do you forget, Chanse?”
The priest growled at the fortune-teller. “Melina Odella, there’s no reason to talk of the curse of the twins.”
The curse of twins? What was he talking about? There were no twins in the village.
“Chanse,” Melina Odella continued, “it is merely a history lesson.” She crossed her legs and leaned back in the chair. “Only once in our history have twins both survived the quest. Twins are rare, but a few of our villagers had a twin before they went through the quest. Ask the cobbler.”
“Melina Odella! That’s enough.” The priest scowled. “George needs no reminder of his quest or the brother he lost.”
“That’s why George acted sad when I told him I was questing this year,” Merindah said softly. “What happened? Why does one twin die?”
“While the quest is meant to be undergone alone, the bond between twins seems to draw them together during the challenge. One sacrifices their life to save the other. In the past, parents of twins have tried many ways to prevent this disaster.” Melina Odella glanced at Alexa and a smug smile appeared. “It appears Moira frowns upon twins, and we all know Fate cannot be cheated.”
A sudden chill made Alexa wrap her arms around her chest. “How did that one set of twins survive?”
The priest blushed. “They were elders’ sons. Moira evidently found them worth saving. It’s nothing to worry about this year.” The priest glared at Melina Odella. “We have no twins.”
He continued with the history, but Alexa had stopped listening. Melina Odella had made a point of staring at Alexa when she talked about the curse. The fortune-teller was still angry with her, so maybe she was trying to scare her, but why? Alexa wasn’t a twin.
Images started playing through her mind. Mother never talking about Alexa’s father. The way Mother worried excessively about Alexa surviving the quest, and how Alexa suspected Mother hid a secret. What if she was a twin?
She glanced around the table. Could one be her twin and she wouldn’t know? A shiver ran through her. Paal looked like her. Maybe
Mother had an affair with Elder Rowan and when she birthed twins, he’d taken the son and left the daughter with Mother. It was true Elder Rowan’s wife didn’t care for Mother, and always sent her servants to buy bread. What if Paal was her brother?
She had a horrible thought. What if Paal had drunk the potion? Zander may have done her a favor when he prevented it. She studied Paal. He couldn’t know either. Their parents were keeping it a secret until after the quest. Alexa didn’t need Dharien as a boyfriend. She was an elder’s child. She would be sure to stay far away from Paal in the quest. They wouldn’t fall to the curse.
After class, Alexa walked with Merindah to the market. Her mind whirled. She was a twin and Paal was her brother. Would Elder Rowan claim her as his daughter after the quest?
Merindah touched Alexa’s arm. “You’re quiet. Are you worried about the quest?”
It would be better if no one, not even Merindah, knew of her suspicions until after the quest. “I hate to think about anyone not surviving.”
Merindah shivered. “I’m glad we don’t have twins this year. How awful it would be to know one would die in the quest.”
Alexa blushed. “Yeah, terrible. I’ve got to hurry to the bakery. I promised Mother I’d come home right after class. See you tomorrow?”
She sprinted home, and her heart wasn’t thumping from the run.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Four Months until the Quest
Zander
According to Cobie, all Zander had missed in class was a history lesson. He’d survive the quest without it. He settled into a routine at the stables and found that, even with Fulk’s unpredictable moods, he enjoyed his time with the gruff man. He rose at dawn each day to clean stalls, and slowly came to enjoy the horses. He still shuddered at the idea of riding, but he’d have to learn soon.
One horse in particular became his favorite. Helios, a black stallion, and the only destrier, had yet to be ridden. When Zander first met Elder Warrin, he’d seen his secret which centered on this special horse. Elder Warrin paid more for the war horse than for the rest of the horses combined. The horse was intended for Greydon.
To Zander’s surprise, Greydon worked at the stables before breakfast each morning and had been happy to hand over the mucking out to Zander. They cleaned stalls, and fed and groomed the horses together. Fulk was a little hard of hearing, and Greydon and Zander frequently joked about him when they didn’t think he could hear them. It was easy for Zander to forget Greydon was a first-born.
One morning they ate breakfast perched on the wall of Helios’s stall. Shadow sat alert below them, waiting for bits of dropped food.
Greydon’s eyes shone when he gazed at Helios. “He’s a beauty, isn’t he?”
Zander nodded. “When do you think he’ll be ready to ride?”
His grin faded. “Father’s worried I’ll be thrown. Someone else will ride him and make sure he’s broken before I’m allowed.” He leaned over and bumped Zander’s shoulder. “Maybe you’ll be the lucky one. Fulk tells Father you have a way with animals. He brags about how well you’ve trained Shadow.”
Shadow looked up at the sound of his name, and Zander tossed him a piece of sausage. The coyote had been easy to train. Fulk had a soft spot for him. Shadow stayed with the marshal while Zander attended his lessons.
“So what do you think? We’re about the same size. Want to be the first to ride Helios?”
“Um,” Zander’s cheeks burned, but he trusted Greydon not to ridicule him. “I’ve never ridden. Maybe I should start out on one of the palfreys?”
To Zander’s relief, Greydon laughed. “Good idea. This weekend, let’s take out the two bays. Star and Lady are as easy to ride as any of them. If you can’t ride Star, you’ll never ride anything.”
Zander’s stomach flipped. He hoped Greydon’s words weren’t prophetic.
After he fed Shadow, Zander bolted from the stables at the last moment to avoid walking with Dharien, who’d taken to following him to class. He slipped in at the last moment and dropped into a chair.
The priest lectured on the purpose of the guilds. Zander had no interest in the various apprenticeships. If he could gain enough tokens to impress Moira, he still believed it possible she would allow him his dream of becoming a Protector.
After hiding yawns all morning, Zander perked up when the priest spoke of the nunnery. Merindah pulled her journal close and clutched her pencil. Blushing, she focused on the priest. Her deepest desire was to be a nun. Now, maybe he’d learn why she hid it.
“Nuns serve the church through prayer and caring for the poor. Currently, we have two aging nuns serving our village. Perhaps with this quest, Moira will assign us a new one.”
The priest glanced at Merindah before he continued. “Much of the nun’s time is spent in meditation, as well as chores and upkeep of the church.” Father Chanse appeared pensive. “Rarely, a nun is called to be an anchoress. We’ve not had an anchoress at our church for more than one-hundred years. The anchoress lives and dies in a brick cell connected to the church. One small window, called the squint, opens to the sanctuary so the anchoress can attend services. An outside window allows people to seek her advice and prayers. A third window is used to bring in food and water and remove waste.”
Merindah’s face burned. That was her secret? She wanted to be an anchoress? He’d been locked in a cell for three days and thought he’d go mad. How could Merindah desire that?
When the noon bell rang, Zander darted for the door hoping to avoid Dharien, but the priest blocked him. He seldom met Zander’s gaze, appearing as troubled as Zander when their eyes met.
Thrusting out his hand to receive whatever omen the priest deemed necessary for his sins of the day, Zander stared at the floor.
Instead of dropping a thorn in Zander’s hand, the priest asked, “Did you receive an omen for hunting Elder Terrec’s lands?”
Zander gasped in surprise that the priest was aware of his offense. He averted his eyes. “No.”
“And in jail? Did you receive omens?”
“No, only a dove and water token for helping a man who was ill.” What did the priest want?
Father Chanse tapped his fingertips together in front of his chest. “I don’t understand you, Zander. You’ve never attended church, you’re always late, and yet you amass more tokens than anyone I’ve known. And outside of the ones I’ve given you, you have few omens. Has Moira given you a favor that affects this?”
“No, Sir. I have no favor like you ask.”
“But you do have an early favor?”
Blushing, Zander dipped his head.
The priest scratched his cheek. “What is it?”
Melina Odella interrupted, “Chanse, his favor is his alone and needs no telling.”
Anger colored the priest’s cheeks. “Why do you undermine me at every opportunity, Melina Odella?”
“Only when you overstep your boundaries.” She motioned for Zander to leave, and as he crossed the doorstep the priest’s voice rose.
“Who are you to decide my boundaries? A fortune-teller? I serve a higher purpose than concocting spells and potions, Melina Odella!”
He didn’t wait to hear more. As he sprinted out the door, Zander noticed Dharien leaning on the other side of the door, listening in the shadows.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Zander
Zander had never heard Melina Odella and Father Chanse argue, and it appeared they fought now because the fortune-teller didn’t want the priest to know about Zander’s favor. He worried over it all the way to Elder Warrin’s estate. When he reached the hedge separating the elder’s land from the village, Shadow raced toward him and ran in circles until Zander dropped to his knees. He pressed his face into Shadow’s neck.
“I missed you too, boy.” Zander grabbed a stick and tossed it high in the air. Shadow ran and leaped to catch it. They pla
yed the rest of the way to the stables. When they both arrived breathless at the gate to the corral, Greydon was saddling Lady.
He grinned at Zander. “Fulk’s waiting for you.”
Zander’s stomach flip-flopped as he entered the hall and threw his pack on his bed. He made his way to the stalls where he found Fulk with a grin matching Greydon’s.
“Saddle Star. It’s time you learned to ride.”
Zander’s heart almost stopped. “N-now?”
While leading his own horse, Tipper, out the door, Fulk said, “Now, as in today, as in get her saddled and outside.”
With trembling hands, Zander blanketed the brown mare before centering the saddle and tightening the cinch. He checked the girth, as Fulk had taught him, fitting two fingers between the strap and the horse. He flipped the reins over Star’s head to rest on the horn. Rolling his shoulders, Zander patted the mare. She skittered sideways, reacting to his nerves, but Zander led her outside.
Fulk chuckled atop his bay, “You’re not scared, are you?”
With Fulk and Greydon watching, Zander faced the saddle, took a deep breath, and placed his left foot in the stirrup. He grabbed the horn, jerked himself up, and swung his right leg over Star’s rump. Adrenaline rushed from his chest. He made it.
Star trotted behind Lady and Tipper out the gate. Once in the meadow, she settled into the ambling gait palfreys excelled at. Zander’s heart nearly burst. He clenched his legs around her middle until his muscles burned. Maybe he could do this.
Fulk pulled Tipper next to Star, and demonstrated using his knees to control his horse. “You need trust between the horse and the rider, boy. The horse needs to understand you’re in control even when the reins aren’t tight. Get her steady.”
Zander practiced until Star responded to the pressure of his legs. When he had the bay quiet, his heart finally stopped trying to jump out of his chest.
“Now Greydon’s going to show you how to shoot from the saddle,” Fulk said.