by JF Smith
Gully laughed and left the farmer behind. The road ended when it joined up with the South Pass Road, which hugged along the southern foot of Kitemount until it veered off and plunged into the heart of the wood of Ghellerweald itself.
The temperature of the day had already risen along with the sun in the sky, but as soon as Gully entered the forest, the air cooled considerably again. Most preferred to follow further around the base of Kitemount to the northern edge of the wood until they joined up on the East End Road. But unlike everyone else, Gully never felt more at home than when he was in the wood.
As was second nature for him upon entering it, his footsteps instinctively grew quieter and he lowered his hood so his ears could listen more carefully. He had no real fear on the road, but there were sometimes dangerous creatures in it. And on a few occasions he had even seen robbers scouting the road for victims while he watched them from a thicket of bushes as they passed.
His nose studied the air as well, the cleaner scents of the forest a welcome change after the city. He was pretty sure he smelled a freshly killed piglet not too far away. He would need to be careful in case there was a wolf nearby that had made the kill. Mostly, he enjoyed what came to his awareness. Amongst the strong conifer smell he could also pick out the smell of some beetle’s sage that must be growing nearby. All smells that felt like home to him.
Another twenty minutes into the woods, Gully noticed the sounds around him had grown quieter and he sharpened his senses even more. His suspicions aroused, he treaded even more carefully and his ears strained to pull in even the slightest sound around him.
Off to his left, a sudden “thud” reached his ears and he saw movement in a small bush next to the road. He stopped and studied the bush, but saw no other movement. But then the breeze shifted direction, and Gully froze, frowning at the deadly critical mistake he had allowed himself to make.
He stood up straight and slowly turned to face behind him, berating himself for falling for such a childishly simple ruse and realizing he may very well pay with his life for the failure. He thought briefly of his promise to Roald, to be careful and to return before his twentieth birthday, and now regretted making it. But what was done was done, and whatever was behind him now had the full advantage.
When he finally turned, what he saw shocked him beyond anything he could have expected.
The deadly threat he expected to have snuck up behind him turned out instead to be... Mariealle. Any number of evils could have snuck up on him, and it happened to instead be the very girl that frequently crossed his mind in its more idle moments.
To be sure, she was standing defensively, and brandishing a small dagger in her hand, but whatever fear that had initially gripped Gully drifted away instantly. Behind the girl that had occupied so many of his thoughts was a basket half hidden behind a rotting tree stump. She was smiling confidently that she had the jump on him and was sufficiently armed, but he couldn’t help but notice that her hand was trembling slightly as it pointed the dagger at him.
Gully relaxed fully and laid his pack down next to his feet, causing Mariealle to hold the knife even further out in front of her warily.
She warned him, “Relaxed composure is hardly called for, thief!”
“Noblelady,” said Gully casually, “just because you hold the knife does not put me at any disadvantage to you.”
Mariealle’s smile of confidence faltered ever so slightly, but she held firm and replied, “I’m not of noble blood, Gully Snipe! Goodlady is sufficient for the likes of you to address me!”
Gully was impressed. He said, “My reputation precedes me! I’m honored that I warrant your attention, even if for my infamy.”
“Oh, I know all your secrets, thief! More than you think!”
Gully’s wonder and concern began to grow, and he decided that perhaps it was time to continue the conversation on more equal terms. He moved towards her very slightly, causing her to increase her defenses. Gully feinted at her with his right hand, causing her to jab at it to cut it with the dagger. As soon as she had extended her hand, Gully kicked up with his left foot, striking her hand and knocking the dagger cleanly out of it.
He reached up and snagged the somersaulting blade in mid-air, barely managing not to cut his own hand as he did so. Mariealle stood shocked at how easily she had been disarmed, and she looked truly afraid now that she found herself at the mercy of the Gully Snipe. Gully almost smiled when he saw the angry and defiant face she managed to foster in spite of the turn of events. Mariealle took a step back and Gully could tell she was considering her chances if she turned and ran.
She exclaimed in disbelief, “You kicked my hand!”
“It was for the good and safety of the both of us, I promise you. Having you wield a sharp knife between us would only likely lead to a bleeding wound for one of us, and it would hardly be me!”
The presumptuous comment seemed to aggravate Mariealle, but the angry flash of her green eyes accomplished nothing but captivating Gully all the more. The soft flow of her hair was a rich brown with a touch of a fire’s embers in it. Her eyes were as verdantly green as the spring leaves of a pannyfruit tree. It was the closest he had ever stood to her, and it was well worth having a knife pulled on him for the honor.
Gully expertly flipped the dagger in his hand and gripped it carefully by the blade. He extended the handle back to her politely, nodding at her with a smile. “Your poniard, returned to you. You need not have any fear of me, Mariealle, either for yourself or your belongings.”
She reached out and took the dagger suspiciously from his offering hand. She started when she realized that the thief knew her. “You know my name!” she exclaimed.
“Aye, goodlady. I do,” he said. “Which puts us both in something of a quandary. Perhaps you would care to instruct me on what secrets of mine you claim to know?” Gully wasn’t sure what she thought she knew, but he was willing to spend quite a bit of time listening to her as long as he could expend it in her presence.
He added, “The fact that I am a thief and a low-life and a menace to the kingdom is hardly a secret.”
Mariealle seemed to consider holding him at knifepoint again, but then decided against it and held the knife casually at her side instead. “A low life, without question, but not a very accomplished or ambitious one,” she said.
“Oh, your words wound more than the knife could!” exclaimed Gully.
“Yes, you steal,” continued Mariealle in explanation, “but rarely much, and mostly from the nobles and greedier merchants. And if you steal from the common folk, you seem to try to pay it back when you can. That is why they don’t turn you in to the guards. But again, most of the common people of Lohrdanwuld know this.”
Gully listened patiently, trying to hide his surprise that she indeed knew as much as she did about him. It was true that most of the common citizenry let him alone even when they recognized him. To the nobility and those in the merchant class as she was, he was a thief and a criminal and there was nothing else worth knowing beyond that.
Mariealle continued, “I really speak of Roald, the lieutenant in the Kingdom Guard.”
That statement was truly unexpected. Gully’s heart skipped a beat and he could not help but feel like he was now in grave danger whether there was a dagger present or not. He steadied his voice and tried to play ignorant, though.
“What of this Roald of whom you speak?” he asked, as if the name was of no consequence to him.
Even in the dim light of the forest, Gully caught the reddening blush on Mariealle’s fair cheek. Even in his fear that she somehow truly did know things no one else did, the blush on her cream-colored skin accented with the most charming freckles he had ever seen sent a shiver up his back. She said, “I... watched you one day... I followed you. You went to his house, where he lives with his mother. I snuck to the door and listened at it while she welcomed you as a son. You are his brother! Your brother is a Guard of the Iisendom, sworn to bring in the likes of you to answe
r before the law!”
Gully bit roughly at his lip and blanched at the terrible predicament in which he had found himself. He had been so very careful for years and years to protect his relationship with Roald, for Roald’s sake, and now the secret had been spilled.
He still attempted to bluff his way through it, though. “You? You managed to follow me unawares? Completely impossible! You followed someone else to this Roald’s home!” he snorted.
He was about to say that he would never be able to miss a shadow as fetching and as charming as she, but stopped himself before his mouth betrayed him as an utter fool in front of her.
“I’m too skilled to have been followed by anyone! And, forgive me for saying, especially a girl!” he added with appropriate bluster.
Mariealle raised a beautifully sculpted eyebrow at him. “And yet your face tells me I’ve discovered exactly the truth, no matter what your puffed-up ego tries to tell you about my ability to do so! Perhaps you’re only that good in that soft head of yours, thief!”
His bluff was not working, and Gully found it impossible to deny her the advantage she now had over him. He could pretend otherwise, but the consequences were beyond his control now. He looked down at his feet, his face honest with dejection this time, and said, “Not brothers... he is my foster brother. His mother took me in when I was of nine years aged and orphaned. I hide it to protect Roald. He is a good man and a loyal guard of the crown.” His voice cracked at having to admit the truth, especially to one who held such a fascination for him. “His... our... mother passed away a year ago, and I should have been turned out as nothing more than an embarrassment to him. And yet... and yet he still treats me like true family.” In his mind, Gully thought, he treats me like the true family that I never treat him as in return.
He wondered, even if he ran, if he had seen his last day in Lohrdanwuld now that the truth was in someone else’s hands. But even if he ran, it did nothing to protect Roald. No longer paying attention to Mariealle, Gully strode over to the side of the road and sat heavily on a fallen log to mull over his unraveling secrets and limited options and the ruin he had brought upon the Delescers.
Mariealle put the dagger into the basket and then sat next to him.
“Foster brother? Foster mother?” she said with keen interest. “Most orphans wind up in the street and would do anything for a family that would take them in. You are blessed enough to have a family take you in and yet you still practically live in the street, thieving like an urchin? You are softer in the head than I imagined!”
Gully said vacantly, “You are right. My life is turned around and upside down. But it is more difficult for me than you know.” He realized his hand had reached for the pendant hanging under his tunic. He stopped it before it got there and said to Mariealle more directly, “Perhaps, if we knew each other better, I would be willing to explain it to you more fully.”
He looked up to her eyes, expecting to see victory blazing in them, but there was a gentleness there instead.
She said, “Well, you need not fret on my account, Snipe of the Gully. I have no strong desire to give away the secret shared by you and your foster brother, Roald.”
Gully stared at her in confusion, and wonder. “So... why follow me that day? Why gather this secret if not to put an end to my crimes? I’m sure I’ve stolen from your father at some point. He is one of the most successful merchants in Lohrdanwuld!” asked Gully, almost begging to understand why she would claim the secret and then not use it.
Mariealle rolled her eyes at him. “If taking from my father on occasion is a crime, then we are both guilty.”
“You’ve taken from your own father?” Gully’s despondence started to lift cautiously.
“You are not the only one who has pilfered before, although I am not nearly as accomplished as you, in truth,” she admitted. “My father treats our servants like insects when they’ve been more like family to us and cared for me more than either of my own parents. I sometimes give them a little extra to right that wrong. From my father’s pockets, that is. He never even misses it.”
Gully was liking Mariealle more and more with every word she spoke, with every glance from her eyes and with every smile that escaped her soft lips.
Mariealle said, with a gleam in her eye, “Besides, if he does miss it, I will tell him that the Gully Snipe has struck! So, in a certain fashion, I need for you to continue your career.”
Gully turned to the side to hide from her the blush he felt rise in his cheek at the thought. He said, “Then I’m sure you do me no more wrong than everyone else that has pinned to me every other theft which I did not commit! You have my blessing to do so.”
Mariealle giggled and then asked him shyly, like she did not expect an answer, “May I ask your real name?”
Gully sighed. She knew of Roald, so there was no point in hiding it from her. Besides, this was an opportunity not likely to come again, and he did not want to waste it. “I suppose my name is Bayle Delescer. At least, that’s what Astrehd, my foster mother, wanted for me. I seem to suffer from a surplus of names, in fact. But please feel free to call me Gully. Roald does, and I’m closer to him than anyone.”
He noticed the basket at Mariealle’s feet and asked her, “What brings you to the forest road? It’s not wise for a lady like yourself to be out here alone. There are highwaymen and wild animals. Even thieves, I hear. It’s dangerous.”
“I know a place not far from here where ambercrown mushrooms grow, and they are my favorite. I come here to gather them sometimes. And you needn’t worry about me. I am armed and quite capable of defending myself.”
Gully raised his eyebrow at her. “Oh, as you did today with the unarmed man that you caught completely by surprise?”
Mariealle blushed and did not respond.
Gully started to place his hand on her wrist to emphasize again the dangers in the woods, but drew it back at the last second before he overstepped the bounds of propriety with her. He said, quite sincerely, “Lady Mariealle, I am serious. You know of the disappearances, and the tales of the people, or creatures, who are responsible. The forest is dangerous, even for a heart as brave as yours.”
“I don’t go far, and I only go to the place with which I’m familiar. I tread cautiously, and if I hear anyone approach, I leave the road and hide.” She paused, and then proceeded, “Besides, I must keep myself safe so that we can talk again and I can hear the true reasons that motivate your delinquent ways. Perhaps I will even reform you one day, Gully Snipe!”
Gully’s heart gave a small leap at the words. He fought it back, but the smile that came to his face would not be kept down, despite his desire not to be toyed with.
He said, “Please, Mariealle, do not mock my concern. Return to the safety of the walls of Lohrdanwuld.” He started to say something else, stopped, but then said it anyway. “I have many worries, goodlady. I have no desire to add a new worry, one for your safety, to that list. That burden would be great.”
Mariealle seemed almost both shocked and touched by the sentiment as she watched Gully rise from the log to be on his way.
Gully pleaded again as he stepped away from her, “Please... be safe. Go home!”
Mariealle rose, too, as Gully took a few more backward steps away from her down the road. She called after him, “And what about you, Gully, sir? Am I to be left worrying about your welfare in this feral place?”
Gully laughed as he retrieved his shoulder sack and began walking, his face beaming as brightly as the laughing moon on a clear night. “I am a child born of this forest, Goodlady Mariealle! Its sounds are my heartbeat, the winds through it my very own breath. I know this wood better than anyone in the entirety of the Iisendom!”
Chapter 7 — Negotiations Of A New Deal
That same morning, the Domo Regent stormed down the hallway of the Palace of the King, his boots echoing along the corridor and striking the polished stones in the floor hard enough to crack them open. He was in a rage, and the accurs
ed, foolish behavior of the night before was going to be made up for if someone had to die in the process. His eyes saw more red than they did the carved beams and woodwork screens along the walls that had so fascinated him the first time he traveled to Maqara years earlier. The few servants that heard his commotion and peeked out at him ducked back down side passages or into adjoining rooms rather than face the coming storm, even one from a foreigner.
Krayell arrived at his destination at the end of the hall, shoving open the large pair of doors without waiting to be admitted or even announced. He shouted, “Have you lost your mind?”
King Azi looked up from the leg of grouse he was breakfasting upon, and said coolly, but with enough menace that the two servants attending him turned and left the room immediately, “You forget your place, Domo!”
The Domo Regent shoved an empty chair away from the table and threw himself into it. “What is wrong with you?!” he demanded of King Azi.
King Azi ignored Krayell’s effrontery and pointed a half-eaten leg of the game bird at him. “Why are you even still in my palace? I told you people to be gone at first light!”
Krayell closed his eyes for a moment and forced his anger down inside him, never losing it, but only stowing it away for use later. He said, with an unnaturally forced calm, “Honestly, King Azi, if you had but told me of this absurd custom of yours to serve up your own daughter to the prince as his dessert last night to test his virility, I could have at least warned him so he would have gone along with it and we wouldn’t be in this difficult position!”
“The custom is far from absurd! The fact that you even see it that way shows how weak you as a people are! Maqarans value strength, boldness, dominance, and unwillingness to shrink from what they can take! You Iisenors are all like women, shying away from every opportunity under the excuse of propriety or... whatever excuse pops into your heads. Any man that subjugates his manhood by not claiming his female when she is practically thrown at him will be no son-in-law of mine!”
