Ghost in the Yew: Volume One of the Vesteal Series

by Blake Hausladen

“They must be stupid,” I mumbled tiredly.

  “They must not know—or care. It is worse than I thought. They have discarded the Conservancy. The Hessier are truly on their own.”

  I tried to respond, but everything began to dull. I heard the sergeants say some loud words, but it was hard to listen. The sudden fatigue settled on me like sacks of wet sand. Avin took my arm and led me. He spoke to me, but I couldn’t understand him. We marched for an eternity. It was much worse than the long marches of my fifty. My mind was tired, not my body. Telling my legs to move was hard. Each step took a lifetime. Each muscle needed to be told and reminded always what it should do. I knew I couldn’t fall. The Hessier would kill me. They needed only the smallest reason. I struggled. I heard Avin sing once. The magic was miniscule, but the blue stirred me. I kept moving.

  We stopped, or maybe I did. I felt my body upon the ground. That is all I can remember from that day.

  77

  Matron Dia Esar

  Darmia and Evela Kalot

  Selt returned with a stack of correspondence for Barok from the villages he had visited. I lost all interest in his tales of road building and irrigation, however, when Gern and Fana returned with stories of beaches, sunsets, and the wide cove and cottage where they had spent their time away.

  The announcement of the couple’s engagement surprised no one, nor did Fana’s immediate return to work at the town meetings and upon the gallery. I’d hoped she would rejoin my wedding committee, but didn’t mind too much. With two days to go until the event, things were so well in hand that I was actually looking forward to a full day’s rest beforehand.

  I should have known better.

  The greencoat on watch brought me word of travelers upon the carriageway the next morning. A pair of women, he said, accompanied by one of Thell’s men. I did not believe the man at first, but was so happy for the news, I almost tore my dress as I rushed down to greet them. I had given up on their coming.

  Leger had been waiting for word of her, but not having met Colonel Feseq, he would not have realized what the man was capable of. He would have gone looking for the sisters in Bessradi, and once the fire had separated them from Haton’s protection, he would have sought compensation from them or their families. I realized this when Haton’s messengers had not been able to find them. The girls had gone into hiding. My hope that they would attempt the trip to Enhedu also proved correct, and sending Thell’s man with the Fells had spared them an excruciating walk up our road.

  I slowed and sobered as I got a look at them, however. Their trip had been a long one, despite the time and effort the Fells had saved, and I daresay they had made the same mistake I had. If they had eaten on their way over the mountains, it was only from what extra supplies Thell’s groom had brought. He looked a bit drawn as well.

  “Darmia?” I asked gingerly of the tallest of the pair.

  “Yes, lady,” she said with a bow and handed me a letter of introduction. Her hands trembled. “Thank you for receiving us. We used to work for—”

  “I know who you are,” I smiled and gestured for them to follow me. “I sent the ponies.”

  “You, milady?”

  The women looked uncertain but were too weary to protest. I led them up to my room without further explanation. I kept their pace as quick as I could, glad with each step that Leger had moved out of the castle and into the apartment above his store. I might yet pull it off.

  “The journey was long?” I coaxed, while I showed them into my room and lifted the lid to the bath. They looked to Gern. The sometimes too helpful lieutenant had followed us up.

  I pushed him out, saying, “Tell Umera and the Dame they are here. No one else is to know. And make sure I get good warning before Barok and Leger return from the harbor.”

  He bowed and let me close the door.

  Darmia began to speak, but her sister spoke over her. “Who are you exactly?”

  “My name is Dia Esar. I am the matron of this manor, and tomorrow I am marrying Prince Barok. You have probably heard the Bessradi rumors of how Barok murdered me and my father.”

  Darmia smiled, but Evela folded her arms, “You are a strange woman, Dia. What are you talking about, and why have you brought us here?”

  I laughed. “Oh, it is not me who is strange, Evela. You have come to a strange place. You might as well forget about Zoviya because little of it is here.” I put up my hands so they would allow me to finish. “I owe you an apology, I fear, for whatever trouble you’ve had with a Hemari Colonel.”

  “How do you know about that?”

  “I was the one who stole his horse using your name to escape the capital. I regret very much any hardship you suffered. Please forgive me and know that I am in your debt.”

  I pulled the stopper out of the green pipe, and hot water rushed into the tub. Evela had crossed her arms but her eyes were on the water.

  “Who wants to go first?”

  “Use your bath, milady? You are too kind,” Darmia replied.

  “Not at all. You are both going to be in my wedding tomorrow. We will have to scramble to get you into dresses that fit, but in the meantime, I am sure a bath would help you forget the road. I remember the ride over that mountain. The hot water never felt so good.”

  Evela’s arms were still crossed.

  Darmia blushed. “Milady, we could not be in a prince’s wedding.”

  “My dear girl, one of my dearest friends has been slowly dying as he waits and hopes for word of you. He will be at the prince’s side when we are married, and you will be by mine. I can think of nothing I want more, and I do again beg your forgiveness for the hardship my use of your names cost you or your family. Will you accept my apology?”

  Darmia nodded. Her sister asked flatly, “And if Colonel Feseq comes looking for us here?”

  “Dear, you are protected here by a Yentif prince. I hope the lout does come looking for you. Truly I do.”

  “So we are welcome to stay?” Darmia asked with such hope I had to wrap her into a hug.

  “Yes, you can stay. You are most welcome, and between Leger, Haton, and the members of his association, you can have your pick of work. You are also welcome at my expense to see your family moved here.” I handed Evela a clean towel and slapped valve on the pipe closed. “Hurry now before the water cools.”

  Evela softened at last and said a simple thank you. I led the overwrought Darmia by the arm to the reeve’s old room. It was wall-to-wall garments. We’d moved all the work from Umera’s shop to keep it out of sight. I began holding up pieces of what we had set aside, trying to cobble together a complete dress.

  Darmia began to sob. I turned her around gently so she would not have to hide it and held up a skirt that I already knew would be perfect.

  “You have missed Leger?” I asked.

  She quietly cried.

  “Well, you are here now. You are safe, and soon you will be clean, fed, and in a warm, soft bed. You will see him tomorrow, and anything at all that is wrong, I promise you, is something he can fix.”

  The tears poured free, and she put her head on my shoulder. She had been thinking about Leger for a long time. Too long. I let her cry and held her until she ran out of tears.

  The sleep they needed waited long enough for the bath, food, and one moment with Umera and her measuring string. They slept in the room that had been Leger’s while we worked. The relaxing evening I had planned for myself became something altogether different. The Dame, Umera and her apprentices, as well as Fana, her mother, and I spent nearly every moment until the sun set putting together dresses for the pair. I was so happy to do it, too. We all were. Gern disturbed us once and was almost killed by something Fana threw at him. I suspected he come to tell me Barok had been “taken” somewhere. I had some idea what Enhedu’s version of the event entailed, but nothing the men of Enhedu could do would come close to what the Yentif would have made me endure.

  The next morning began as planned. Everyone was ready. The men left the to
wn on time, and the fragrance of apples in the air was delightful. Thell had timed the day perfectly. Everyone was dressed, and Darmia and Evela were simply stunning. I was even able to hide their road-battered hands with long, white gloves.

  Clever and a long line of stately Fells were waiting below, and we carefully rode north and down the stone road. Thell waited for us at Ojesti, and he looked as proper as the day he had helped Barok survive Kuren’s sanction.

  He led us down the long trail toward the orchard and stopped short of the tall rock that overlooked it. The low noise of the crowd within slowly hushed. We slid from our saddles, and I took Thell’s arm. Fana, Umera, and my surprise guests lined up behind me, and Thell guided us down.

  The sight matched my dreams. It was no longer the wild, untamed jungle Thell had first shown me. The trees were trimmed and cleared, the ground beneath even and free of weeds, and the sweet-smelling apples, millions upon millions of apples, filled the air. Within it Enhedu waited, a great crowd of thousands lining either side of the long road that ran through the orchard to the place I would be married.

  I made myself breathe. We started down. Could it be real? I did not believe it. I found I was squeezing the life out of the old man’s arm and relaxed my grip.

  He whispered, “Do not worry about me, milady. Squeeze as you need to.”

  Darling man. I wanted to hit him. He was going to make me cry.

  Fana and Umera led the way, followed by my surprise guests, and then me and my adopted Edonian father. The walk down the lane was long and hushed. At the far end Erom stood upon a wide riser holding a long green ribbon. Barok, Leger, Gern, and Sahin were lined up to his left. Behind them, to my surprise, stood a tall white carriage. It had big wheels and springs, silver fittings, and a proud team of four Fell stallions. Sevat’s first. What a gift.

  The carriagemaker caught my eye and bowed. I smiled back at him but could not help but turn to watch Leger’s face.

  He looked a bit fatigued, but when his tired eyes found Darmia, he came alive and actually took hold of Barok’s elbow and pointed. They whispered quietly to each other until Leger saw my smile. I bowed my head to him, and he returned the gesture before fixing his eyes on his one true love.

  The girls lined up opposite the men, and Thell left me beside Barok before he stepped away. Erom stepped forward and lifted Barok’s hand toward me. I set mine into his, and the long green ribbon was wrapped around them. We looked into each other’s eyes, and Erom’s soft words drifted into the background.

  I smelled the apples and felt the breeze, and at long last I spoke the words, felt Barok’s kiss, and heard the joyous crowd.

  78

  Colonel Leger Mertone

  The Two Best Nights of 1195

  I found Darmia standing with her sister in the meeting hall. The wedding celebration was already noisy around us. Evela spotted me first. Her expression darkened, but she pointed her sister my way. Darmia dashed toward me instantly and wrapped me in her arms. I had no good words prepared for such sudden bliss. If she minded my big mitts, she did not show it. She was thin from the trip, but I had already figured that was a subject to avoid.

  “I have missed you so much,” I said, instead, sure I looked a smooth-cheeked lad, all red-faced and grinning. Every person there seemed to be watching. Dia smiled and winked.

  Darmia clutched me and hid her face against my shoulder. She was crying. Evela was smart to it, and set one of her gloved hands upon my shoulder.

  “This is where you ask her to dance,” she whispered to me with a cool smile.

  I had not noticed the music. Barok had already led Dia into the center of the hall. They motioned us to join them. Gern and Fana stepped out next and waved me on. I offered Darmia a trembling hand, and she accepted.

  I wish I could say I danced as well as I cut wood, or even as well as I sew. I managed, I think, not to smash her feet but cannot be sure. The smell of her, her touch—I was a prisoner to the calm it brought me.

  We danced, and danced, and danced.

  At some point, we noticed the music had stopped and we were alone. It was dark outside, many of the torches had burned out, and the fire in the pits was low and old. All that remained was a few of the lads from the garrison on their way toward the door. One carried a flute. They were the musicians we had danced to. They smiled and waved. One yawned as they left. They had continued playing for us. We waved and laughed. I kissed her hand.

  She led me into the empty, silent street. Barok and Dia’s carriage had already departed, and high overhead, the yellow moon shimmered behind a veil of clouds. Neither of us found words as we strolled toward the well and my store.

  I was not sure where to take her. I had not had a woman in my room, either at the keep or the new apartment above my shop, since the day Dia arrived at Urnedi. I could not think to invite Darmia to my bed.

  “Where are you sleeping tonight?” I asked, afraid of my own words.

  “Oh, you wonderful man,” she cooed at me, hugging my arm. “Evela was convinced you would try to bed me like a camp follower.”

  “She scares me.”

  “Stop that,” she said with a soft swat. “Bessradi is not so far away that you have forgotten how hard it is there.”

  “Sorry, my love,” I said, my most anxious declaration escaping. My heart skipped three beats.

  She hugged my arm. “Thank you, Leger,” she whispered.

  “Why do you thank me?”

  She began to cry and beat her fists upon my chest. Dim to her sudden sorrow, I could not defend myself from the brief pummel.

  “You great fool,” she wept softly and then clutched me. “Thank you for not dying.”

  She had thought me dead. All through that terrible winter, she had thought me dead. What a husk I would have been after suffering the same. How simply and foolishly men were made, how dim and how blind.

  We held each other in the quiet. My heart calmed, and her touch drew me toward slumber. Such peace in her arms.

  “Dia put us up in a guest room at the keep across the hall from hers,” she yawned. We smiled at each other’s sudden drowsiness.

  I led her to the keep and up to my old room. We stopped in the hallway. She kissed me softly, her hands upon my neck. I felt a king.

  I kissed her back. “Sleep well.”

  We held hands for a moment longer before she slipped quietly into the room, and I found my way back down to the apartment above my store. My bed was calling to me. I do not remember lying down, but I must have.

  I woke laying on my side. Darmia lay next to me on the bed wearing one of my linen tunica, her head upon my arm and mine wrapped around her. My clothes were folded neatly upon a chair, and her silk gown hung across its back.

  The mystery of when and how she had joined me there did not occur to me then. Never had I known such happiness. If the world would have let me, I could have stayed in that embrace three days easy.

  But the world did not. Noises below alerted me to the hour. I was late for my own meeting, but tardiness was not enough to make me want to move. More boots thumped their way down the stairs into my cellar. Darmia came awake and rubbed her eyes.

  “Who is it?” she asked quietly while hugging my arm.

  “Uhg?” was my dreary reply as her warmth lulled me. “A consortium meeting to discuss the harvest. They can wait.”

  She gave me a great hug, and the warmth closed my eyes. But then she let go and wiggled away. “Up, up,” she said with a kiss.

  I groaned.

  “Am I going to have to wake you up every morning?” she teased.

  Wait. Darmia was in my room. In my bed.

  I tried to say four things at once. I did not want you to spend the night. I am very glad you are here. Get back in bed. I have no trouble waking on my own, but will happily feign slothfulness if it means you will be here each morning. All I managed was an unintelligible sequence of syllables.

  She smiled, laughed, and kissed me.

  More boots desce
nded the stairs. “Where’s Leger?” we heard someone ask, followed by a chuckling.

  Hearing it, she blushed and yanked me out of the bed. I hugged her to keep the day from starting. She swatted me, giggled, and moved to help me wash at the basin.

  “You know, for an alsman you have quite a lot to do,” she remarked as she scrubbed my back and I my front.

  “You thought it a lazy man’s job?”

  “I worked at the Creedal, remember. I heard all about them. You are the only one who breeds horses, trains soldiers, and manages both a store and the meetings of craftsmen.”

  “If I let it fall to someone else, it would not get done right.”

  “Some of the ladies figured it was so you could afford a large family.”

  I choked and had to cough. “What does running a courier’s office and organizing a wagon train have to do with children?”

  She frowned. “Your wealth rivals some of the masters from Bessradi, I am told. All you earn, you spend on more ventures. The ladies thought you were planning for a family.”

  I had not considered any private reasons for all my extra labors before. I was Chaukai. But there was an image there, one every orphan had—a big house filled with the biggest and happiest family the world had ever known. A lifetime as a soldier, another as a drunk, and a third begun as alsman had made me forget it all, but the potent image was still there.

  Darmia smiled as my expression changed. She had me pegged for sure. I defended myself with a hug and a question. “How many children do you want to have?”

  “Lots and lots.” She giggled and kissed me. Then she whispered, “Did you know your kitchen is empty?”

  “I have been relying upon the Dame in that regard. My inn in Ojesti has a wonderful kitchen. We can move in there and give this apartment to the better of my clerks.”

  “Deal,” she agreed with a sharp nod.

  Then she helped me find fresh clothes and hustled me down the stairs. I was almost to the cellar stairs when I came to a sudden halt.