Mark if Destiny

by KT Webb

  “Tell me, when I warned you that the Makt were heading straight for your family, but Rowan suggested there may be survivors in Milltown, what did you do?”

  “I asked you to tell me if there were any survivors.”

  “Yes, you did. More importantly, you refused to leave until you knew if there was anyone for you to help,” Harcos reminded her.

  Honor shook her head and threw her hands in the air. “And? What does that have to do with anything?”

  “Rather than immediately rushing to the aid of those you love, you waited to determine if there was anyone else you could save. You may not have the training that would make you a soldier, but you have a heart that would rival the bravest knights in the Gildi.”

  Honor swallowed against the lump in her throat. With no rebuttal to his words, Honor simply nodded as she fought back her tears. It may not make sense to her, but she was ready to put her faith in her destiny. She was ready to put her faith in the magic of Alderwood. Without another word, they began packing up the things they had used as they rested and ate. An unspoken agreement passed between them. Honor would do anything needed in order to move toward her destiny, the others would be there every step of the way.

  Chapter 11

  The only village between Milltown and Goldenlark was a slightly larger settlement called Meadowbrook. Honor had never been beyond the village where she was born or the section of Ternion Forest that surrounded it. But that was about to change.

  The irony of being a girl who had never been anywhere yet carried the weight of the world on her shoulders was not lost on Honor. All she could do was believe that as long as she followed where her destiny led, she would figure out what was expected of her. For now, Goldenlark seemed the most likely starting point.

  The county seat was home to Lord Mahuron, it was his job to enforce the laws of the county and keep its inhabitants in line. The people of O’Hehir County must have been law-abiding for the most part because Honor had not witnessed much Makt activity until recently. Not to mention, there were sectors of the Makt under the control of each Lord who ruled over the five counties of Alderwood. O’Hehir and Spindler Counties were the only two counties bordering the mountain chain that separated the northern part of Alderwood from the rest.

  All Honor knew of the people who had taken up residence beyond the border of those two counties was that they lived mostly in isolation. Now, she understood there to be much more to their story than she had ever imagined. The Oracle of Kilgore actually came from the town of Kilgore which may have been a county seat before the northern part of Alderwood had begun to secede from the rest of the counties. Now, it was the main settlement inhabited by those who chose to live at the foot of Mount Crystalline.

  As for Goldenlark, Honor had decided it was the best place to start since it was where she had to go to retrieve whatever bond she had inherited from her mother’s family. Not to mention, it was the place her father, Soren, had begun his life. Honor held onto a sliver of hope that she would find someone who knew him. She tried to ignore the fragment of optimism that made her think she may even find some family there. With two things pointing them toward the county seat, it was as good a place as any to begin their journey.

  Now, as they made their way toward Meadowbrook, Honor looked around at the strange collection of creatures traveling with her. Obviously, she would not have wanted to embark on this trip without Rowan. But the addition of Harcos and Eirny had not only proven educational but also companionable. Both creatures were dedicated to restoring the world they had heard about through the years, and Honor could not think of better guides to help her along her way. The days that lay ahead were more uncertain than Honor cared to admit. Her stomach twisted at the thought of the task before her.

  Well-worn grooves told the story of traveling peddlers making trips between villages. In her mind, Honor followed the tracks behind her all the way to Milltown. She wondered if word had already spread to the other villages in the county that there was no town to visit, no people to sell to.

  With a heavy heart, Honor trudged along the wondering what they would find in Meadowbrook. Was it bigger than Milltown? Would they find that the Makt had decimated that village, too? From what she knew, the soldiers had traveled southeast. They would make a beeline for Pallisaide, trekking through Ternion Forest or traveling through towns. It didn’t matter to them if they stayed on the established roads. In fact, trampling the underbrush of the forest was probably more attractive to them than following any standard path. That brought more destruction.

  Years of training with Gray had taught her how to determine the direction she was traveling by examining the sun. According to the maps of Alderwood posted at the edge of Milltown, their ultimate destination was east. Meadowbrook lay somewhere along the way between their starting point and the county seat.

  As they walked, she caught murmurs coming from the trees that lined either side of the road. They were the same as those she had heard whispers coming from near their camp. One glance at Rowan told her he could hear it, too. He tilted his head from side to side as though listening intently would somehow make sense of whatever the forest was trying to tell them. Honor reached over and laced her fingers between his. Rowan squeezed her hand in response.

  They walked until they crested a hill revealing Meadowlark framed by light from the sun as it sank low on the horizon, a sign their travels for the day would soon be over. They had little in the way of money until they reached Goldenlark and collected the bond Honor had inherited. But they had enough to pay for a hot meal and possibly sleep in a bed overnight. Harcos and Eirny were accustomed to sleeping in the open air. Undoubtedly, they would climb a tree to take refuge from any human who may happen upon them.

  “Here is where we will part until the morning. We will meet on the road beyond this village,” Harcos rumbled as Eirny unwound herself from Rowan’s arm and returned to rest on Harcos.

  “From here, it does not appear as though the Makt traveled through Meadowbrook. We should probably tell them we came from Milltown as the only survivors. It may give them time to prepare in case the Makt decide they are next on the list,” Rowan suggested.

  Honor shook her head. “No. If they were looking for the heir to the throne, they may believe they destroyed her. For whatever reason, they wanted to speak with Renata. Perhaps being unable to find her is what led to the destruction we witnessed. We do not need to draw attention to ourselves by advertising our origins.”

  “I believe you are right. They do not know who they are looking for. They only know the King is aging and there must be a child. They are likely to decimate any village that stands between them and saving their king,” Harcos agreed.

  “So, if people ask where we are from, what do we tell them?” Rowan asked.

  Honor shrugged. “We can tell them we are traveling to Goldenlark, but they do not need to know where we have come from. It would be best not to mention Milltown at all. I am afraid if they knew of survivors, we would put everyone in grave danger.”

  The lack of objection was all Honor needed to believe her friends were on the same page. Rowan and Honor began descending the hill while the others melted into the forest. From their vantage point, Honor discerned Meadowbrook was most definitely larger than Milltown. The city was set up like a wagon wheel. Narrow streets ran in straight lines from a perfect circle at the center. The planning and construction must have taken considerable precision. Milltown was designed with one wide roadway through the middle; the buildings lined the edges with very few alleyways jutting out from the main road. On one hand, Honor knew the meticulous layout would make it easier to navigate Meadowbrook. On the other hand, she wondered if they would struggle to determine which spoke would lead them back to the road that would take them to Goldenlark. Hopefully there would be signs pointing them in the direction they needed to go.

  “What do you feel like eating?” Rowan asked. “I wonder if there is a place to get a good stew or steak.”


  Honor smiled. “I am definitely hungry. At this point, I am hoping we find an inn that also serves food. While I could stand to eat after so much travel, I would love nothing more than to lay my head down and get some rest.”

  “We will have to see if we can get a room with two beds. We do not have the funds to rent more than one room, and we never did get the things we needed to marry,” Rowan said sheepishly.

  Honor had not thought about their marriage or the documents they had gone to retrieve from Milltown. Weddings and marriage were the farthest things from her mind. No one in Meadowbrook would know any different if they told people they were married.

  “I think it would bring more attention if we needed separate rooms. We may as well pretend to be a newlywed couple.”

  Rowan’s eyes widened slightly, and a pink blush crept up from his neck until it covered his entire face. Honor could not help but laugh at his expression. It was considered improper by many for two unwed people to share a bed. At this point, there was very little Honor could bring herself to care about in the ways of what was proper. Her own mother had been involved with a man without being married to him. She was not keen on following in her mother’s footsteps, but she was not about to let convention stop them from what they needed to accomplish. Rowan reached over and took her hand, bringing her out of her thoughts.

  “You know, we could get married when we reach Goldenlark. They would undoubtedly have records from Milltown since we were unable to get your mother’s death certificate.” Rowan’s voice was heavy with fear of rejection.

  Honor had no interest in rebuking him, but she was not sure how a wedding would fit into the life or death mission they were on. Rather than telling him it was unlikely, Honor opted to leave him with some hope. Even she had no idea what the future held. “I guess we will have to see what we can do when we go to inquire about the bond.”

  With a slight increase in speed, Rowan and Honor followed the road to Meadowbrook, passing fenced fields crowded with grazing farm animals as they skirted the edges of the village. Goats, cows, pigs, and chickens wandered in their pastures while young men worked on the harvest in the surrounding fields. It seemed awfully late for farmers to harvest their wares.

  In Milltown, there were not many farming families. Most men were employed as stonecutters, masons, and laborers, much of their vegetables and grains came from farming towns like Meadowbrook. Trade was a way of life between the villages. Many offered valuable services in exchange for food to feed their families. Money was uncommon, which was part of the reason Honor was so surprised to learn money had been left to her.

  At first, she thought it must have been from her father’s family, but that seemed unlikely from the age of the bond. Maris seemed to believe it had been used to help build up Goldenlark when it became the center of trade for their county. If that was true, the bond could have been accumulating interest for well over two-hundred years. The money was not what drove her to the county seat, however. She was desperate to see if she would find some evidence of relation to her father. Something, anything to help her find some closure.

  As they neared the wide-open gates of Meadowbrook, it was obvious the village was no stranger to visitors. The people going about their daily business waved when they spotted the young couple making their way down the road. Greetings were called and hands were raised in welcome. It made sense that Meadowbrook would see its fair share of travelers between villages in the county, especially as the town that fell between the western reaches of County O’Hehir and the county seat.

  They passed into town without issue, continuing to accept warm greetings on their way. There were mainly houses lining the outskirts of the village. Dirt roads slowly transitioned to cobblestone the further they traveled into Meadowbrook. Even the cobblestones had a slow creeping change in their upkeep; the message was clear, money and improvements were focused on the business district, the residential area was kept by landowners. The closer they got to the center, the more businesses they found.

  Since it was late afternoon, hardworking farmers and laborers would soon be calling it a day and heading into town to find dinner or return home. If there were any travelers on the road, they would certainly be searching for a place to stay.

  “Excuse me, sir?” Honor stopped an elderly gentleman as he shuffled his way across the cobbled streets.

  “Mmm? How can I help you, young lady?” His voice trembled with age.

  “We are looking for an inn. Preferably one where we can also find a hot meal. Can you point us in the right direction?”

  “Aye. If you follow this road to the green at the center, you will find a sign for Soren’s Place. That will be the best option.”

  “I am sorry. Did you say, ‘Soren’s Place’? Is it named after someone? Is that a very common name here?” Honor did not have time to stop herself before the questions began spilling out.

  “Soren is the name of the man who owns it. Moved here from Goldenlark years ago.”

  How could that be a coincidence? Other than the name being written on her birth certificate, Honor had never heard it before. “Thank you, sir. We very much appreciate your help and kindness.”

  “Ah, it was nothing. You would do the same for me were I to be a stranger in your village.” With a wink, he turned and continued on his way.

  They walked in silence for a few moments before Rowan gathered the courage to say what was on his mind. “Honor, you cannot think this Soren is the same Soren on your birth certificate, can you?”

  She shrugged. “I do not see how that would be possible. I have the death certificate for the man who was my father. How could he still be alive and well running an inn?”

  The scent of freshly baked bread wafted through the air as they passed a bakery on the left-hand side of the road. A few people mulled about as the impatient baker stood with his hands on his hips, waiting for them to make their selections. Honor’s mouth began to water as she thought about sinking her teeth into soft, warm bread. The rabbit she shot had sated her hunger, but the knowledge that she would soon be eating and resting in a warm bed sent her senses into overdrive. Her stomach released an obnoxiously loud growl. Rowan glanced at her with a smirk. He knew she loved to eat, and undoubtedly, knew her stomach was tired of waiting.

  When they reached what the man referred to as the green, they discovered a lively area of town with people bustling about. A few men sat together playing stringed instruments Honor had never seen before. The round body of each instrument had a straight board running from it with strings and metal bars at measured intervals. A woman stood nearby stomping a foot on a wooden platform while also keeping time on the butt end of a storage barrel. The music was upbeat and festive. People were dancing together on the grass at the center of the green. Men, women, and children clapped along as they watched the spectacle. No one seemed to be in a hurry, they were enjoying each other’s company. Rowan pulled Honor to the grass, wrapping an arm around her waist as they went. Despite her protests, he whirled her around in time with the music, fitting in flawlessly with the other dancers.

  Honor allowed Rowan to lead her as they danced. His smile was infectious. Soon, she, too, was laughing and having a grand time. They twirled effortlessly, weaving in and out of the other dancers as the steps required. She found herself facing Rowan across the green. With little prompting, Honor rushed to his arms. He lifted her high and spun her around. As the song came to an end, cheers erupted all around the circle. Everyone was laughing and clapping. Rowan held Honor close for a few moments before kissing her gently. When he released her, Honor caught sight of a woman standing near the edge of the crowd. The woman was beckoning her forward. Honor refused to believe it was possible. What would Renata be doing in Meadowbrook? She blinked and stared hard in the direction of the older woman. No. It was not Renata. The woman was most definitely not Renata, nor did she seem particularly interested in getting Honor’s attention. But the woman was standing just under a sign proclaiming, “Soren’s Plac
e”. It may not have been Renata, but she could not help but feel like her mind was playing tricks on her for a good reason.

  “Rowan, look!” Honor pointed excitedly.

  “It seems unlikely that I will get any food or rest until you meet the man who owns that inn.” Rowan rolled his eyes playfully.

  “I cannot help that he shares a name with my father. Perhaps it is a family name and I am about to meet an uncle or cousin.” Honor shrugged.

  “So much for not getting your hopes up,” Rowan muttered.

  They left the green just as another song began to play. A larger throng of dancers joined the musicians. Honor could not deny the joy and sense of community surging through Meadowbrook. No one in Milltown had ever seemed so carefree. Perhaps Meadowbrook had not experienced the same hardships as other villages, or they had not been visited by the Makt as often as other towns. She could not pinpoint the exact reason Milltown had seemed to be such a sad place. It appeared as though the people there found it harder to recover with each misfortune that befell them. Or maybe Honor was placing her own sadness on the village and only seeing it through the eyes of an orphaned little girl. Her life with the outlaws had been far more joyful than anything she remembered from Milltown. Life was only as good as people made it. Maybe their happiness was a choice rather than a result of their good fortune.

  The door to Soren’s Place was sturdy and surprisingly easy to push open based upon its weight. The place must have done well through the years for the hinges to have worn so easily. Once inside, Honor was struck by a warm and welcoming atmosphere. A long bar stood to the right-hand side with stools lining the front. Round tables were filled with friends and families laughing and talking over one another as they enjoyed a few drinks or an evening meal. The man behind the bar raised a hand in greeting before nodding his head toward an alcove that held a small counter. The woman behind the counter smiled and waved them over.