by Dana Davis
Suddenly, Ved’nuri’s image filled her mind and she pushed Birek’s away for now. Youngling or no, she intended to honor her clan as though she had taken her oaths. It was up to her to inform the others of the Netherworld meeting.
There was plenty of room here and Maesa had her own apartment and tiny privy, complete with a large stone bathtub and gilded spigots. Small, yet more luxurious than she had ever seen. And very private. She took care of privy business then put on the silk stockings and lovely dress from the wardrobe. The dress was smooth and slid over her linen undergarments. Much better than that old peasant thing she’d been forced to wear during their travels. This one was light blue, like a summer sky, and trimmed in silver braid. She tied the silver laces of her bodice so that her slight bosom showed a bit above the ruffle.
She smiled to herself. Birek should appreciate that. He is a man, after all.
The puffy sleeves added to her thin frame and she twisted to studied her image in the tall mirror. She had never seen a mirror made of real glass. Even in her root home, mirrors were obsidian. She wasn’t buxom like some of the servant girls she’d seen here, or like Zarenia for that matter, but this dress left no doubt that she was a woman. With a smile, she pushed her feet into the matching blue slippers, braided her dark hair back with a silver ribbon, and headed out.
On her way down the corridor, she realized the others weren’t in their rooms and she had no idea which way to go. Zarenia’s keep was confusing, full of twists and turns. No doubt to confuse intruders. A few servants bustled here and there, toting bed sheets and towels and water pitchers. She decided to confront one, a frail looking girl about her height with hair as black as Zarenia’s. The girl looked no older than fourteen.
“Excuse me,” she said, motioning to the girl.
The servant offered her a fearful glance and fled.
Maesa stood dumbfounded. When she started toward another girl, that one bolted too. She shook her head. Zarenia’s root people probably knew she was a Gypsy, that all her kin were Gypsies. No one had ever feared Maesa before. This gave her a sense of power mixed with underlying guilt. She had done nothing to harm these girls. Not yet, anyway. If they kept running from her, she might just disobey the Elders and use what sparking Energy she possessed to give them a real fright.
A tall, matronly woman came around the corner with a girl grasped in each hand. Maesa recognized her as Zarenia’s former nurse, Grenwin. She was the only one in the keep with blonde hair, at least that Maesa had seen, and she wore it in a severe bun with gray curls at her temples. A paisley cap that looked too small for her sat on her head.
“You apologize to the Gypsy.” Grenwin moved the girls with ease. “Do you hear me? I won’t have servants disobey orders from Demargina and show disrespect for our guests.”
The girls looked like frightened deer and both tried to back away. Grenwin pulled them close and whispered something Maesa couldn’t make out. They clasped hands and looked ill, as though they had been given a sentence of disembowelment. Hesitantly, they approached Maesa and curtsied, but both kept wary eyes on her.
“We are sorry, Mistress Gypsy,” the taller of the two said in an uncertain voice. Her accent was much thicker than Zarenia’s. “We should not have run.”
The shorter, frail girl’s lip quivered. “Please, don’t change us into toads.” Both girls dropped to the floor and began to bawl.
Maesa fought the urge to roll her eyes. Instead, she crossed and hauled them to their feet. This time, the frail one kept hands over her face as she continued to weep. The other had wary eyes on Maesa and tears fled down pale cheeks. This would never do, middlings fleeing every time they saw her.
She took in a long breath. “Stop this whimpering,” she said in her best imitation of Haranda. The frail girl’s head jerked up and her eyes flew open. Both trembled but at least they were quiet. “That’s better.” She released them. “I’m not going to harm you. I don’t know what you’ve been told about Gypsies but we’re not here to hurt anyone. We’re not ogres. And no Gypsy that I know of can turn people into toads. Now, you pull yourselves up and attend to your duties as loyal servants should.” She leaned close to the girls, who stood with elbows touching. “I wager you have more to fear from Grenwin than from any Gypsy.”
She smiled and smoothed their hair until they no longer looked as though they would faint. What she wouldn’t give to possess the calming Energy right now! “Much better. Now, I simply wish to know where the others have gone. This keep is large and I certainly don’t want to get lost. Some Gypsy I would be, wandering around for ages, not knowing whether I’m coming or going.”
The girls sniffled but didn’t back away from her.
“I’ll show you the way.” Grenwin stepped close and crossed arms beneath her ample bosom, which stood out even more beneath the layers of lace that decorated her bodice. “If you two get back to your chores, perhaps I won’t tell Demargina of your behavior.” Her eyes flickered back and forth between the two servant girls. “Now move!”
The girls gave quick curtsies and fled to different rooms. “Foolish children.” Grenwin eyed them a heartbeat then turned back to Maesa. “Very impressive, youngling. Follow me and I’ll take you to morning meal. The others gather and I was sent to fetch you.”
Maesa nearly fell over at that. How could the woman know her status? They weren’t supposed to tell middlings anything about Gypsy hierarchy. Then her stomach pitted as she remembered Ved’nuri’s orders to oath as many servants as they possibly could.
Grenwin raised a thick blondish brow. “I took my oaths early this morning.”
“Congratulations.” Maesa’s response was spontaneous. It was one thing to have Grenwin rule over servants, but now she had authority over younglings.
The woman made her feel like such a child again, as though she were back in the Land of the Goddess under Haranda’s watchful eyes. Maesa had grown up with a nurse who spoiled her but Grenwin seemed very no-nonsense.
“Now, Gypsy-child Maesa, who do you think first noticed Zarenia’s witchery? Her Energy. I sanctioned the old swamp witch, Evin, to teach that girl how not to kill herself with all that fire she’s able to create. Sparking, I believe Elder D’Esher called it. Her parents had no choice but to send her to Evin.”
“But I thought only her mother knew.” Younglings had regailed some of their root lives during their many moons as clan sisters. It made meals and nights around the fire pits more entertaining. Zarenia didn’t go into details about her life but she had shared some things. They all had.
Grenwin hooked an arm in Maesa’s and led her down another hall. “Demgine Zaren and Demargina Dasilia thought it best if Zarenia didn’t know much about that, especially when the plague hit. Unfortunately, Evin was blamed for the sickness. Those rioting idiots killed her.”
Maesa nodded as they turned the corner to a winding corridor. The tall, white walls created quite a contrast to the dark wood floors and purple and gold tapestries.
“I’m the only one here who’s taken the oaths. I wasn’t raised to fear Gypsies. My mother was from the Twin Mountain area. She didn’t believe in mistrusting anyone just because of rumors. And she met a few Gypsies in her day. I only heard good things from her lips.”
She released Maesa’s arm but stayed close, almost touching her elbow, as they turned another corner and headed toward a large staircase. Purple carpet lined the steps all the way down and polished brass handrails adorned the walls. “Many here are fearful of Gypsies, youngling. Watch what you say and do outside these grounds. The Va’pash family has loyal servants but no one is without enemies.”
Maesa kept pace with the matronly woman down the stairs. “Yes, Grenwin. What about Zarenia’s cousins?”
They had moved in after the woman’s parents died and had taken the keep as their own. Poor Zarenia had no choice but to heed the Goddess’s call and make her way through the Means. Maesa wondered if she had wanted to stay and protect her belongings. That didn’t matter n
ow.
“They went slithering back to Sithdad and Vindad. Lording over servants and the financial responsibilities of Zarenia’s estate proved too much for those children.” Grenwin leaned close as they took the last step and turned right toward another long corridor. “Since the treasurer died from the plague, I’m the only one besides Zarenia with keys to the vaults, and only we know where they’re located. It’s very difficult to run a large household without gold. Zarenia’s cousins didn’t want to part with their own.”
Maesa chuckled. Those cousins must have been a colorful lot, thinking they could just move in and live off Zarenia’s misfortune.
Grenwin led her past a round room full of gilded, family shields and two huge fireplaces. “I have no children in my nursery, youngling, so I can focus my attention on you and that young man, Birek.”
Maesa felt the heat creep up her neck. Gypsies didn’t waste a heartbeat informing servants of younglings’ private affairs. Despite that, she still liked to think her feelings for Birek were discreet. She sighed as they entered the huge banquet hall.
Grenwin nudged her and leaned close enough to breathe on her neck. “Stand tall, youngling. Gypsies don’t slouch.”
“Yes, Grenwin.”
They kept up appearances for the castle servants, who wouldn’t understand Gypsy ranking, thank the Goddess. She pulled her back straight and allowed Grenwin to lead her to a seat at the long rectangular table. The large woman sat between her and Birek, but the man managed to give Maesa a smirk before Grenwin blocked their view of each other.
Zarenia sat at the head in a high back, gilded chair with purple, plush velvet cushions. Her lavender high neck dress with billowing sleeves was worthy of a princess, and Maesa couldn’t help staring at the young woman who had been her clan sister just weeks ago. Zarenia’s skin had darkened from her days spent outside but was still smooth and free of blemishes. Raven curls hung past her shoulders and a gold chain with dangling pearls wreathed her head. She was absolutely beautiful. Despite the luxurious settings and attention, Maesa felt dowdy in her fine dress.
Someone touched her arm and she turned. Grenwin leaned close. “She needs to appear as Demargina. The Elders agreed that was best.”
Maesa nodded and glanced at her kin. Elder Yuri, who led this quest, wasn’t much taller than she. Slim but muscular. His dark, hairless body gave him a more youthful appearance than the other Gypsies, and his long, braided hair was as black as Zarenia’s. What there was of it, anyway. He kept it shaved over the ears, which had a gold hoop earring in each. The large, gold ring he always wore on his right hand matched his fine breeches and tunic. The man usually spoke in quiet tones, but he was a strong body-healer and could harness a sufficient amount sparking.
The other Elder, D’Esher, had taught Maesa numerous times in the Land of the Goddess. She could twine healing and seeking Energies to draw distant people toward her. From what Maesa understood, it worked much like urging, but at greater distances, though D’Esher could only bring people to her, not make them do anything else. The Elder also wore fine breeches and towered over Yuri, but as his first council, she took orders without a quibble. The two were often seen together, discussing important details. They couldn’t have appeared more opposite. D’Esher, with her red hair, lighter skin and large build against Yuri’s dark, lean body.
Zarenia’s servants placed food around the table, and Maesa nodded acceptance of most when it was offered. Her eyes drifted to the others in her quest. The guard couple, Denya and Bone, sat next to each other. Both were muscular from years of sword work and wore decorated breeches and tunic. Denya wore a leather lace wrapped completely around her honey-colored braid. Her husband’s was tied at the end with a lace. Their root custom dictated they never cut their hair. A warrior’s power could be diminished that way. Both looked to be in their thirties, though since they were Gypsy servants, they could be much older.
Neither could be called handsome, either—multiple scars wouldn’t allow for that—but they were kind and very protective, and Maesa felt safe with them around. Denya’s short sword gave her advantages that her husband Bone didn’t have with his broad sword and vice versa. Maesa had seen them spar on occasion and they moved as though they were one person. She pitied the enemy who would feel their wrath.
Raith appeared to be about Haranda’s age and was new to teaching when Maesa arrived in the Land of the Goddess. His visions often kept him distant from others. The large man had shoulder-length hair as red as Elder D’Esher’s. He stood taller than Elder Yuri but his bulk made him seem much like a bull. His personality, also. Constant exposure to the sun kept his face red. Any who didn’t know him might think him perpetually angry. The Goddess help anyone when Raith began to bully. Though he was a kind teacher, he didn’t put up with foolishness, and Maesa felt it her duty to keep her youngling hide far away from him.
She listened to the Elders as she chewed on a honeyed bun and frowned when she heard they would search Zarenia’s territory in small groups. She wouldn’t be with Birek. After the long intrusive gaze from D’Esher, she wasn’t about to complain. The Elder seemed to be waiting for a tantrum.
Maesa had made that mistake only once before, in the Land of the Goddess. D’Esher was tutoring her in Wren’s absence and Maesa became frustrated that she couldn’t keep her subject asleep for long. Her head ached late into the lesson and she was famished. When D’Esher told her to try again, she’d given the Elder-mother an emphatic, “No.” D’Esher had ordered her again in a soft voice that sent rage through Maesa and her sparking Energy leapt out to scorch the grass. There would have been a fire had the ground not been moist from the previous night’s rain. Despite enthusiasm at her newly enhanced sparking Energy, Maesa was certain she would have died before her three sunrises of privy duty ended.
Frustration rose that she and Birek would be separated once again, but youngling status didn’t deter her from putting on the best Gypsy airs she could manage, so she offered an innocent smile to Elder D’Esher, who raised a curious brow. No, she wouldn’t give the Elder cause to punish her like that again. Once the servants disappeared into the kitchen, she took the opportunity to inform her kin of the Netherworld meeting. She still had to force down shivers whenever a Gypsy studied her with intrusive eyes that seemed to strip her clothes away and leave her as naked as the day of her birth. She told them of the devastation along the Tandiar River, but she was disappointed when she couldn’t remember all seven signs of Cholqhuin’s coming.
“Thank you, youngling.” Yuri gave a rueful smiled. “We can discuss the rest of the signs later. You’ve done well. I’ll be sure and let Ved’nuri know that the next time I send a messenger pigeon.”
Despite the disturbing news she’d just delivered, Maesa beamed. Part of her still longed for acceptance and praise, though now she craved that more from Birek. She leaned around Grenwin’s body and received a tiny smile from the man she loved. That just might get her through this day.
Elder Yuri instructed them to proceed as planned but with caution, especially now that someone was murdering villagers. Simple raiders perhaps. But perhaps not. Either way, Maesa thanked the Goddess she’d been assigned to this quest and not Siri’s. She also said a prayer to the Goddess to keep Thad and the others safe.
Elder D’Esher’s voice brought her mind back to the meal. “Until we know more, younglings are forbidden to go anywhere alone, even inside the keep.” Maesa frowned. “Maesa and Birek can keep their private rooms, as long as they remained locked at night.”
A relief. However, she fumed when D’Esher and Grenwin discussed who would “tuck her in” each night, and she almost groaned aloud.
Following the meal, Zarenia retired to her library with Raith. The two were going over maps and diaries that Zarenia’s father had left behind, in hopes of finding more clues about the ancient texts. Elder Yuri took Birek and Bone with him to search the grounds. Maesa was stuck with Elder D’Esher, Grenwin, and the guardswoman Denya. They were assigned
the apartments within the keep. She followed the three women from the dining hall, up the stairs, and down several twisting halls to the rooms. Servants curtsied and hastened from their path and Grenwin eyed any who looked as though they would bolt.
The search began in the farthest apartment, where they sifted through bedding, closets, trunks, under and behind tapestries, beneath tables and chairs, and in privies. Every nook meticulously probed.
Maesa began to grow restless. “This seems pointless, Elder-mother D’Esher.” She forced the whine from her tone. “Why would someone put such valuable property where anyone might find it?”
“You may be right, youngling. But Yuri instructed us to search every room and that’s just what we’re going to do.”
“I’m certain there’s a faster way.” She eyed the Elder. D’Esher should be able to locate the texts with her seeking Energy.
The Elder caught her meaning and raised a brow. “If it were that easy, girl, the texts never would’ve been lost. Besides, I already checked this room. I sensed nothing unusual. The ancient shrouding is probably still effective, so we do things the middling way.” Her red hair was braided today and she flipped it to her back.
Maesa sighed. Her plan had seemed like a good one, flawless. Nothing was ever easy for a Gypsy it seemed. And she wouldn’t admit she’d forgotten about the ancient shrouding, a talent lost long ago. No one knew exactly how it was done, just that the technique used some ancient form of elemental magic. They would know a shrouded object if they came upon one.
Grenwin stepped to her and placed a brief hand on her forehead. “If you’re feeling unwell, I have a tonic that’s certain to perk you right up.” A threat sat in her blue eyes, something Maesa didn’t need familiarity to notice.
