The Everlands Chronicles: The Truth

by A. J. Bell

  The boy smiled. “Thank you, My Lady,” he said.

  I felt disgusted with myself, since I knew Dorian could die if the boy neglected his care or if the surgeon was careless as well. Dorian needed me; yet, I rode out as if he were just asleep and not wounded.

  I rode out at full speed in the middle of the night in the opposite direction from his camp. I didn’t want to see him or the Gypsies again or to encounter familiar faces in Stoneburg. I only stopped to give a few breaks here and there to my poor Stardust.

  Getting water for us was difficult. The rivers and ponds were frozen, so I had to dig holes in the ice to get a little water to drink.

  I had no idea where we were, since we had been riding aimlessly along, when we got caught in the middle of a white out storm. Then I wasn’t sure in which direction Andora or the Everlands were located. I was lost and had no water and no coat to cover me from the winter cold, and my food supply was running really low. If that was not enough, I was exhausted in body, mind and spirit. For the first time in my life, I had no idea of what to do or where to go.

  I stopped in front of a frozen river. In my exhausted condition, I figured that the shortest way to the other side was across it, so I decided to walk across the river, holding the reins of Stardust behind me. It seemed pretty sturdy at first, but halfway across the river, the ice cracked. Stardust got scared and kicked with her front legs, breaking the ice even more. I tried to remain calm and started to walk slowly back to solid ground, but it was too late. My right foot sank in the ice, and its sharp edges ripped my skin open. I screamed in pain, but nobody was around to hear me.

  If the rest of the ice breaks and I fall into the water, this dress will surely sink me to the bottom. As fast as I could, I unstrapped the dress and slipped it off, throwing it to the side. However, the movement I made to throw away the dress put pressure on the fragile ice that kept my foot from moving, so it broke and I sank deep into the slushy waters. I gasped when the cold overcame the heat left in my body. My senses began to numb as the seconds passed and my body remained under the frigid water. I managed to swim to the surface but couldn’t get out because the current running beneath the sheet of ice was pushing me forward from where I had originally fallen, and I found myself trying to break the ice above me with my frozen hands. The water was crushing my lungs, and breathing was almost impossible. My strength left me and my body ceased the fight for survival. Everything turned black.

  I felt life again for a short moment, while my lungs were debating between breathing air in or staying empty. I was shaking uncontrollably. My skin looked blue and lifeless. My teeth were clenched tightly, trying to stop shivering.

  I was lying on the ground and whimpering like a wounded animal about to be slain, when a man sat on top of me. With one arm, he pinned my shoulders against the ground. In his other hand, he held a knife that poked at my gut as I watched, helpless and horrified. I shut my eyes tightly, and my mind faded once more into darkness.

  I woke up inside a log cabin, lying naked on top of a bear skin while other skins covered my bare body. I felt movement, and one of the skins that covered part of my legs growled at me. It was a wolf, a white wolf – white as the snow. Its penetrating blue eyes were fixed on me, and its snout bared its fangs, waiting for me to move.

  I held one of the skins over my breasts with one arm and looked around me for a way out, but saw nothing. I couldn’t see an entrance but only a small window high above my head – a small opening without a window frame or glass, but light was coming through there.

  “Ah! You are awake! I thought I heard Shewhite growling,” said a man in his fifties, peeking through the opening up above. “It’s breakfast time,” he said. “Are you hungry?” the man asked.

  “I’m naked!” I yelled.

  “No need to worry there, little lass. I’ll give you something to wear until your clothes are dry. It’s hard to keep the clothes from freezing in this kind of weather, and we need to make sure your clothes are dry before you put them on.”

  “Who are you?” I asked.

  “Most people would first think about thanking the person who saved them before they start to interrogate their host.”

  “Thank you,” I said, losing my patience. “Now, how do I get out of here?”

  “In a hurry, aren’t we?” he said. “You can either climb up out of this hole, or you could just wait for me to climb down and open the door for you; either way, there is waiting to do.”

  I covered myself with the skins again and waited for about ten minutes. Then one of the walls opened inward as the same man came in with a platter full of bread and bacon, and another one full of the remains of whatever animal the bacon came from.

  “Eat,” he said with a mouthful of bacon. “Wild pig’s meat. It’s very tasty and you need some extra sustenance on your skinny body to recover from your fall into the water.”

  “Thank you,” I said, grabbing a piece of bread and stuffing it with bacon. It was indeed great!

  The man followed my every move with his hazel eyes. He was a scruffy man who probably had not shaved his face in years. His clothes were worn out. By the look of the walls and the bed in which I lay, which were covered in animal skins, I could tell he lived off his game – a fur trader.

  “What’s a woman doing in the wilderness alone?” he said, as if asking himself. “Probably looking for trouble,” he replied to his own question. “And I think she found it,” he said, looking at me. I pressed my arm tighter across my chest where I was holding the animal skin. He chuckled. “If I wanted to do that, I would’ve done it when we were both lying naked in my bed.” The horror my face showed must have given him a subtle hint of what his words were actually indicating. “If I hadn’t done it, you’d be just as dead as if I had let you sink the bottom of the river,” he said, blushing. “I was fishing, and your hair got tangled with the line, so I pulled you out. We thought you were dead, but still decided to try to give back warmth to your body, so I took your clothes off and lay you on my bed. Shewhite and I lay beside you until you stopped shivering. Then I left to cook breakfast, but Shewhite wanted to stay to keep you company. She likes you,” he said, looking at the wolf still devouring its meal. “She liked my wife too, until she left us,” he said, sounding distant.

  I cleared my throat. “Where exactly am I?” I asked, bringing him back to reality.

  “You are in Bellaterra. Is this where you were meaning to go?” he asked curiously. “If not, why were you trying to cross the river to this side?”

  “I got lost in the middle of the whiteness… didn’t know which direction to go. I’m on my way to Andora–”

  “You’re an Everlander!” he said, outraged. “Get out!” the man ordered me. Shewhite stopped eating and looked confused. “I said – Get out!” he yelled again, walking menacingly towards me, eyes full of hate. “Leave before I kill you, Everlander!” His yells got louder. I saw Shewhite out of the corner of my eye, bearing her fangs and ready to pounce at him; her growls increasing by the second. “Stay out of this,” he warned the wolf. When Shewhite growled louder, he grabbed his knife. “I will cut you to ribbons if you don’t leave my property,” he said. Shewhite jumped on top of him, knocking him back to the ground. He dropped the knife, so I ran and grabbed it, trying to still keep my decency by pressing the animal skin on my breasts.

  “I’ll leave when you give me my clothes back.” I was surprised to see that the wolf wasn’t really attacking him, but licking his face, trying to calm him down – the man was in tears, and Shewhite was drying them.

  “I swore I’d never help another Everlander again,” he said, still lying on the floor. Shewhite was near me now, rubbing her skin against my bare legs, going around and around – catlike.

  “I don’t know what has been done to you or if there is a way to right the wrong, but I’m not an enemy to you. Of that much, I’m certain. You saved me when you could have just let me die, so there is good in your heart, and that is not overlooked.”


  He stared at me with distrust. “Women are liars!” the stranger said. “Very good liars.”

  “Your wife,” I paused, hoping not to push him to the limit again. “Was she from the Everlands?”

  “No,” he replied. “She was from Lerona. She was born there, but came to Bellaterra to work at the Blackrose Castle. I worked there also. That’s where I met her.” I thought he was done talking, but he continued. “Then he came along with his carriage wheel broken. I helped him by taking him in my wagon to Bellaterra, where he met my wife. Nobody there knew we were married, so nobody cared when she left with him.” I had no idea of who he was talking about, but I didn’t dare to interrupt. “She said that she was tired of being poor; that she deserved better than being my wife; that he’d give her what she deserved – a crown and a kingdom.” I looked at him, confused. “Have you met the Queen of the Everlands?” he asked, but didn’t wait for my answer. “That’s my wife. Once she was Queen, she came back to see me. She said that if I ever told anybody about our marriage, she’d have me killed and also kill those who I had told about her. The Royals of the Everlands have pushed me into hiding.”

  “What’s your name?” I asked.

  “Orman,” he replied.

  “Orman, my name is Elle. I must return to Andora because my loved ones will be worried if I don’t return to them as I promised. How far from here is the road to Andora?”

  “Three days. You ended up in the farthest end of Bellaterra,” he replied.

  “I’ve a piece of land there that you can have if you come with me.” I’m not sure what made me say that, but I did say it, and I did mean it. “Will you take it?”

  Orman smiled. “You will give me a piece of land because I saved you?” he said, expecting some sort of unbelievable clause to be disclosed.

  “No, but because that would be like kicking the royal behind of Her Highness, and she owes me more than one.”

  Orman’s smiled widened. “Then let’s kick her royal behind together,” he said.

  Chapter 26

  My slip was torn in multiple places by the sharpness of the ice, so those places matched the scratches on my skin. The cuts were superficial, but the cold temperature on my body made them feel way worse than they actually were. I had to wear my new friend’s spare clothes, which weren’t flattering at all, but covered me well from the weather. Yet, I still felt naked until I fastened Heaven on my waist.

  Orman packed all of his belongings: bows, arrows, knives, anything and everything, and he loaded them all into a small wagon pulled by two donkeys.

  The journey to Andora took longer than we had planned since another snowstorm slowed our way. We needed to find refuge and took cover in the nearest place we found – the old burnt-out castle of Bellaterra.

  Weeds and Ghost berry bushes covered most of the land, so at least we wouldn’t have to worry about Ghost snakes hiding in the darkness. We built a fire and spread a few animal skins down to lie on for the night. I knew the place was vacant, but I still couldn’t brush off the feeling of being watched, even with the emptiness that filled the rooms.

  I couldn’t sleep and decided to take a little walk around the ruins; the same ruins Richard and I had seen from up the mountain. To reach Andora from here, we would have to go uphill for half a day and then downhill as well. We were so close.

  There was barely anything left in the castle. The fire had consumed almost all the furniture. I knew it wasn’t safe, but my curiosity got the best of me.

  “You should be resting,” Orman said, finding me. “Fighting the cold takes so much energy out of us. We’ll need all the strength in our bodies climbing that mountain, since the donkeys will only be able to pull the wagon if we aren’t in it.”

  “What happened here?” I asked him, even though I had heard a few details about it already.

  “Nobody knows. Some people say it was the Gypsies angry at their kin who brought the castle down; others say it was the Queen’s orders because of her jealousy against Karianna’s beautiful daughter, who was the heir to the throne of Lerona. However, others think it was a plot from their very own blood, who tried to take over the throne by killing the entire family and everyone else in the castle and then burn the place. Since everyone died, we’ll never know, and there will never be justice for them.” He sounded angry at the loss of so many lives and the absence of any justice.

  “I think I was here the night it happened.”

  He looked at me, amazed. “If that is true, how did you escape?”

  “A friend saved me. I think… I might have worked here. I can’t remember much, only that he killed the man who stabbed me and took me in his arms. Then my mind goes blank.” I lifted my shirt and showed him my wound.

  It struck me then, hard. This is where Dorian and I had met. It had to be! All those years ago, Dorian had saved my life, and now I had left him to die.

  Five days had passed since the storm began, and there was still no sign of it stopping. Our food supply was low, since between Orman, Shewhite, and myself, no game hunted was big enough to feed us all, and one can only eat so many berries before feeling sick.

  As if being hungry wasn’t enough, we had already used almost the last of our wood. We had gotten creative and used the furniture that was spared by the previous fire in the castle, but the supply was limited. Not having enough rest also made our stay a nightmare, and I knew nightmares! I had them all the time, especially since we had arrived in Bellaterra.

  Whether daydreaming or at night, my dreams had come back stronger than before. I could feel my fear creeping up and through my body as I was stabbed all over again. Unlike the times before, when Dorian would save me, now he decided to stand by the door and watch me die.

  “Can we have one night when you don’t scream like this?” Orman asked, concerned, sitting next to me.

  “I wish I could stop them,” I whispered.

  He lay back down as did I, but I couldn’t go back to sleep. I could only see images of Dorian and the happenings in the upstairs bedroom.

  I got up and wandered around the castle for the hundredth time. I climbed through the half-burned, half-broken steps to the upstairs floor and walked into a room where the door was still complete because the fire didn’t get to it. With the exception of what damage time had done to it, the room remained intact. As I walked towards the window, my hand went to my waist and rubbed my scar a few times. This was the room where that scar was given to me. A creak of the door made me turn around, scared.

  “You shouldn’t be up here. It’s dangerous and annoying. Dirt was falling on my face the moment you started walking on this floors,” said Orman. He held a handmade torch, while I had been walking guided only by moonbeams and memories.

  “This is the place in my dreams,” I said quietly.

  “Well, where in here did you work?” he asked doubtfully, putting the light close to my face.

  “In the kitchen, I think,” I answered.

  I remembered my other dream, the one where Dorian was drawing a picture of both of us in front of a mirror, a broken mirror. I remembered his lips on mine and the door opening, allowing a little child to come in and climb on our lap. Dorian tickled him and tickled me too. Playfully, running away from his touch, I stumbled on a flour sack laying on the floor and fell backwards, dropping some bottles of jam from the shelf behind me.

  “The basement!” I said. I then exited the room, running down the stairs and into the kitchen, looking for a little lever that, once pulled, would unlock a passage into a stone staircase to the basement. The fire hadn’t reached this far either. Orman opened a few doors on the walls and found jars of sauces, syrups, and jams, along with different relishes and fruits in heavy syrup that would feed us for a while – a nice change from the raw Ghost berries we had been eating.

  I walked to the end of the small hallway where I saw the small mirror and the bench where we had been sitting when Dorian drew our picture. Being the nephew of the King, it was only understandabl
e that he had to hide in a place like this to be with a servant like me.

  I found a piece of paper covered by dust on the floor. When I blew the dust off, I stared at it. The picture was a little different than the one in his golden chest. My face was leaning on his, my eyes shut, enjoying his closeness, and my lips curved into a smile that showed the happiness in my soul. He was holding one of my hands over his heart. “My heart will always be yours,” he had said at that moment.

  “I believe you now,” Orman said, looking over my shoulder at the picture I was holding in my hands. I traced Dorian’s face with my fingertips. “And I’m assuming that’s the friend that you were talking about.” I nodded. “Grab some jars and let’s go up again. We need to tend the fire or it will die on us, and we’ll be next in line,” he said softly, wiping a few tears from my face.

  When we went back upstairs, Shewhite was having some fun with some kind of rodent she had caught in our absence. I lay down to rest with Dorian’s picture in my hands, trying to force my mind to remember more, but nothing else came to me. All I could remember was him: the taste of his lips, his arms around me, and how safe I felt by his side.

  The clothes I was wearing in the picture were simple, like the ones Mother wears while working in the garden; yet, he had not cared then about my humble birth. I soon fell asleep in the warmth of his memories.

  I woke up to a dying fire and Shewhite tugging on my pants to wake me up. The storm was gone, the snow had ceased, and the outside wilderness had been covered by a layer of white that could easily blind anybody.

  Orman came to join me at the window. Concern filled his face as he pulled a spoonful from the contents of one of the jars we had brought from the basement into his mouth. “I don’t mind eating this all day long,” he said, using his fingers to scrape the edges of the jar and licking them clean, like a little child would do.

  “It must be good,” I commented.

  “Try it,” he said, extending the jar towards my face.