by Erme Lander
Sheep were scattered in hilly fields, small farms in the wide valleys with managed copses topping the hills. She met other travellers on the road and to her relief she was ignored. She walked, on edge, always worried there might be a thundering of hooves behind her, shouts and the sound of dogs on her trail. Aware she didn’t have much food, she ate lightly, unwilling to expose herself buying more and she drank from streams away from the road. The afternoon rolled towards sunset. She plodded on, wary at every cart and rider that went by, expecting someone to identify her.
Mika decided to stop in a small wood before it got too dark. Her stomach grumbled. She was weary from not eating properly since the miscarriage. She cut another strip from her cloak, made a noose and hung it by a rabbit trail, hoping to catch one. They’d caught and cooked rabbits before. Her brother...tears came finally. What had happened? How come she’d been spared? Paw prints on the floor. Even her feet had been covered in blood. She screwed up her eyes, trying to remove the memory of Rylan lying next to her.
Mika’s hands shook as she remembered – she’d put on a nightdress that evening and had been naked when she’d woken up. Rags on the bed, red and sodden. Nothing could have taken her nightdress off without her waking. Torn flesh flickered in front of her eyes and for a mad moment she wondered if it could have been her.
She whimpered, curling up in a ball, the roots of the tree digging into her side. Looking at her slender fingers, scrubbed clean, she curled them up into the sleeves of her shirt. She could never have ripped anything like that, she wasn’t strong enough, either of the two men could have held her off. People would have heard, especially if they were yelling, but it didn’t look like either of them had the chance. A vague glimmer of a struggle, hands pushing at her, the taste… Mika’s stomach heaved at the thread of memory and the thrill that ran through her.
Her stomach gurgled. Mika scrubbed her face and stood. She couldn’t deal with all the wondering, all the possibilities. She had to deal with what was now, she’d go mad otherwise. Food, somewhere to sleep. Fire. She closed her eyes in despair. She had no way of starting a fire. With flint and steel yes, but she didn’t have them. Mekhi or Rylan had never had to start a fire, they had people to do things for them. She looked at the sky and took a deep breath telling herself that the spring night was fine and warm. No problems with sleeping outside, she had a thick cloak to wrap herself up in. Her brother would have had problems recognising his sister at that point, none of the spark and bounce left, only a shaky determination she would survive.
She went back to check the trap. Nothing in it, just as well as she had nothing to cook it on and didn’t think she could deal with killing anything. She tucked the strip back in her bag and ate some of the bread instead.
Tears welled as she thought of her baby and Rylan’s reaction. She felt her face carefully, maybe she could say she’d been an apprentice and that her master had beaten her. Would that be enough? She didn’t know the laws in this land. Would they try to take her back to Fenin? Her fingers met nothing, there were no bruises. Rylan had hit her hard enough to bruise and she now couldn’t feel them. Unable to think further, she curled up and exhausted from the day’s walking she fell asleep immediately.
She woke early, just before dawn. Despite her worries, her night had been dream free. The birds were deafening in the trees and everything was misty. She moved to brush her hair out of her eyes and remembered as her fingers trailed through air. It was chilly in the pre-dawn, she sat and watched as the sun came over the horizon, flooding the countryside with colour. Mika caught a movement below her on the road and she stared with mild curiosity. Horsemen, galloping. She wondered what they were doing and then realised the bodies would have been discovered. They would want her back to face justice. They wouldn’t believe her, she was a foreigner. No one would help her.
Where could she go? Not home, that was the first place they’d look, on the road to the Cassai mountains. Her face sagged into her knees and she forced herself to think through the desperation of wanting her mother. She needed to hide, somewhere with people. She remembered Rylan telling her of Ackbarr and the different peoples there, from across the sea. She might blend in there. Her father had been there and her brother. Her resolve hardened. She’d find Kaylan, find out what had happened to him. Maybe her father would be there on court business or she might find someone who knew him. Her stomach rumbled and she tightened her belt as she stood. She didn’t have much food, she’d have to go hungry for a bit.
She kept the mountains on her left as she walked, given a choice in roads she turned towards them. Rylan had mentioned Ackbarr was in the mountains. She tried asking the way from a pleasant looking older man looking after goats on the side of the road. His face became vacant on her questions, his mouth hanging open idiotically. She sidled back to the road, not knowing if it was her accent that was the problem or the information asked.
Mika stopped to look at the huddle of houses marking her first town since Fenin. A bustle of people moved through, a market day. Her hesitation lasted for only a moment, she strode on, heart pounding, expecting a hand on her shoulder and a loud voice declaiming they’d found the murderer. Covered stalls were set out in the centre, people talking and carrying on their normal day to day living, while she ran in secret from the authorities. Her stomach grumbled as she passed the bakers, not daring to stop. She breathed out, shaking, after she’d left the last straggle of houses.
She joined a number of people travelling on the main road for the planting further east. Knots of strangers, travelling together for safety. Close enough to hear their careless talk and pick up snippets of conversation, she used them as camouflage. They in turn assumed she was one like themselves, content with her own company. The road was paved and wide, used by local traffic as well as horsemen. She was constantly on edge and nearly jumped out of her skin the first time she heard horses. Without enough time to hide she stopped, ready to face them and protest her innocence. They ignored her, sweeping by, treating her with the same disdain as they did the other travellers.
To add further insult, it started to rain. A fine drizzle that leaked through the cloak and made her sniff. She knew she wasn’t making much progress as the day wore on. A cart rattled by, she thought about hitching a lift and decided against it. At least with the rain and her hood up nobody gave her strange looks, just another foot weary traveller. The dye seeped from her hair, sinking into the cloak and shirt. She was dismayed to find her fingers came away a dark green when she ran her fingers through. She kept her hood well pulled up after that.
The day grew darker as evening approached. No farmhouses to be seen, but there were plenty of trees to hide in. The other travellers stopped near hedges and woods, calling out to each other as they separated off into small groups. Mika didn’t trust any of them enough to want to sleep close by. She choose a copse on the hill as her shelter for the night and plodded towards it, exhausted.
Mika no longer cared about hiding in the days that followed. She was lost. She’d not dared to buy food or ask directions in case she was recognised or remembered. She followed the mountains and the other travellers. All her good intentions about finding her brother and Ackbarr were lost in the haze of walking and worrying. The countryside was mostly grazing for sheep and cattle. Boys looking after livestock watched her walking with incurious eyes, one of many travellers on the road. The tiny villages were frequent and she would walk through each one in a panic, terrified of capture.
She ate the last of her food as the sun set, dragging the drab greyness into night. The mountains appeared no closer than they had been when she’d walked out of the city gates. Huddled in her heavy wet cloak under the thick canopy, she cried. Tears streamed done her face, as she desperately tried to work out what had happened that night. She had no memories, only the dreams of walking in the forest, hunting. It would be better to be an animal, with no worries, no cares, only the joy of the hunt. She remembered the iron taste in her mouth, the feel of her m
outh closing around a small animal and felt sick, no longer able to tell her dreams from reality. Had it been her? Damp and exhausted she fell asleep, disturbed only by the sharp cry of a predator in the night.
Mika woke stiff in the morning, staggered to her feet and watched the road while the birds sang. She filled her stomach with water from a stream, set the mountains to her left and continued walking. The day was damp again, it was too early for berries and she didn’t know what was edible around here. She had the coins she’d taken, but was too frightened to use them. At home it would have been easy. Home. Tears welled and she forced herself onwards.
There were no more villages that day, only the occasional farm. She was chased by a large white bird near the entrance to a farm. It hissed at her, spreading its wings and she stumbled away down the road.
Few horsemen pounded along the road either now, either they’d misjudged her speed or had given up looking. She lost sight of the group she’d walked close to, no longer able to keep up. Others passed her without looking, absorbed in their own small miseries. Large barns and tiny cottages dotted the landscape. Small woodlands on the hills above the wide valleys, the bare fields waiting for a later planting.
By evening she was feeling light headed and sick. Another copse on a hill, she set her eyes on it and forced one foot then the other to keep moving in a weary plod.
Chapter 7
It was dark in the wood. She stood at the end of her strength, swaying as she tried to work out where to sleep. She thought she was dreaming when she heard the crackle and snap of a fire greeting her and the smell of food. Her mouth watered and without thinking she stumbled towards it. Mika stopped herself just before she walked into the clearing. People – mustn’t go near. She gazed at the fire, the large tents and the horses picketed beyond. Horses. She could go faster on a horse. Could she steal one? Her brain refused to think.
A twig cracked behind her and she was slow in twisting away. A huge hand clamped over her mouth and another pinned her arms to her sides. They’d kill her, take her back to Fenin. She struggled through the exhaustion of the day. Her captor picked her up like a doll and carried her kicking and wriggling to the campfire.
An old man watched the fire while he sipped from his bowl. A number of servants were fussing around, making food and sorting out bags. She twisted, trying to wriggle some space between her and the guard. He solidly refused to let go, dumped her on her feet and held her up when they wouldn’t hold her weight.
Mika heard the rumble in the man’s chest as he addressed the old man, “Found something sneaking around.”
She was held while the man calmly finished his soup. Her mouth watered at the smell. Wrapped in rugs against the damp, he was bare-headed, his pate holding only a few wisps of hair plastered down with damp. He was old, older than anyone she’d seen before. His hands were knotted and they shook as they held his bowl. She met his eyes dully, his were bird-like and gleaming with mischief. A servant held a napkin out. She noticed he dribbled.
“What are you doing at my campfire boy?” The old man’s voice was strong despite the soft sound of few teeth. “Oh, let him go Gavin, I think you’re probably the only thing holding him up.” The arms relaxed, but a huge hand kept hold of her upper arm. The old man glanced once at her captor and sighed. “Well boy?”
“I was hungry.” That seemed a simple enough answer. He cocked his head, bright eyes examining her.
“Nice clothes, a little stained… interesting hair.” She felt a tired indignation at his amusement. “There are a lot of men on the roads. We’ve come from Fenin. They appear to be hunting for something. Have you heard any rumours?”
Mika shook her head, that was the truth.
“Why are you on the road?”
She tensed further at the interrogation. Why? Her mind stumbled through every possibility, rejecting them all. She was too tired, she said nothing. He watched her, weighing her up and then abruptly said, “You seem like a bright boy. I am Belindros, have you heard of me?” The guard snorted softly behind her.
The name was familiar, memories coming back of her parents talking, an age ago. “The Medici.”
He beamed. “Well done. Your cheekbones and what might have been under the dye suggests that you are Cassai. Am I right?”
She hesitated, hating the thought of lying, “My mother was.”
Belindros nodded, “Cassai have a reputation for integrity, have you inherited that with your mother’s blood boy?” He laughed softly at her look. “I shan’t make you answer.” He seemed to make a decision. “Let me see your hands.”
Confused, she held them out and was dragged closer by his guard when he beckoned. He pulled them close to peer at them, turning them over. She hoped there weren’t any blood stains left. “Hmm, slim, capable. How are you with blood?” Startled, she didn’t know what to say.
“Don’t know? Well, how do you fancy being an apprentice to me? Think on it, it’s not easy, lots of studying, gore and death, but it’s worth it.” The guardsman behind began to protest and was silenced with a look. “Well boy?”
Mika hesitated only for a minute, then desperate for the food she could smell, shrugged in what she hoped was a boyish manner. “Alright.”
He snorted, she must have got the tone right. “My last apprentice died a few weeks ago in Dissan. He asked questions in places he shouldn’t have. I’ve no cure for stupidity.” He looked disgusted. “His parents will be demanding to know what happened, only took him on as a favour. I need someone bright, someone willing. Can you learn boy? Will your parents care?” Mika shook her head. He grunted and waved a hand, losing interest, “What did you use on your hair to make it so intriguing?”
“I don’t know, it was a black powder, my last master used it to dye his hair.”
“I think you’ll find he used a mordant as well, it’s gone green boy. And I can’t keep calling you boy either, I like to know people’s names.”
She panicked. “Mi...Mikon.”
He addressed the guardsman, “Give the boy some food, then take him to the stream. I’ve something that will strip the colour out in my saddlebags.”
The guard hulked next to Mika and she tried not to stare as she saw him for the first time. No wonder she hadn’t seen him in the dark, his skin was a deep blue black and his clothing looked a soft grey in the firelight, blending into the night.
“What’s the problem? Flour on my nose?” His tone was teasing and she flushed as a servant gave her some bread and soup.
“Where are you from?”
“Ackbarr.” He grinned, challenging her lack of knowledge, then relented, “My parents were from Lannec. That’s through the mountains, past the desert and over the sea to the northern continent to a geographically challenged Cassai boy.” She nodded, eyes wide. Her country felt smaller than ever.
“Don’t eat so fast, we’ve plenty of time.” She tried to slow down, it was difficult to stop her hands shaking. The guard settled down more comfortably, watching as Belindros was helped up and escorted to a tent.
“Is that really Belindros?”
The guard chuckled, “Yes and he won’t let anyone forget it. He’s a generally good judge of people so don’t let him be wrong, otherwise you’ll have me to deal with as well.” He offered a large hand. “The name’s Gavin.” The hand swallowed hers.
“What’s a mordant?”
“Something that changes a dye to a different colour, we’ll strip it off when you’ve finished inhaling your food.”
A servant dropped a sachet onto her lap, “The dye remover, young master.”
The removing of the dye took a while, the powder was a bleach. Mika had hair nearly the colour of her father’s by the time it was taken off. Gavin assured her little of the green could be seen. She was shown to the previous apprentice’s tent, given his cloak to wear while hers was dried. As Gavin left her, she asked where they were going.
“Ackbarr. Convenient for you?”
Mika nodded and said her good
nights. She flopped into the blankets with relief. Dry and warm, food inside her. Going in the right direction with people who knew the way. A break from the bad luck. Her thoughts wandered as she remembered her father speaking of Belindros, passing on their conversations while talking to her mother.
The Medici. He was known everywhere. High ranking in the King’s court and known equally for his intelligence and irascible temper. She’d heard others speaking of him, about his interest in their culture and the plants used for healing. Maybe, just maybe she would be alright. She stared at the bulky shadows in the tent, with the muddled thought that she hadn’t expected him to be so old. Tiredness overwhelmed her and she fell asleep, not caring about tomorrow and the challenges of passing for a boy.
The next morning brought far more problems than her acting skills. She woke in the early morning, warm and dry, snuggled into the blankets. She relaxed for the first five seconds and stretched, anticipating curling up for a longer sleep when her insides curdled and turned to liquid. Clenching her backside, she ran, pushing through the tent opening and nearly knocking over a sleepy servant in her haste. She reached the bushes, only just in time to unlace her trousers. Finishing, she walked gingerly back into camp, seeing Gavin look for her. A querulous voice was raised from the Medici’s tent and Gavin answered quietly in his deep voice.
He raised an eyebrow, “Problems?” She explained, flushing and he grinned. “Probably bad water from a stream.” He raised his voice to speak through the tent walls, “Lin, you got anything to stop Mikon sluicing his insides out?” The grumbling from inside the tent intensified. “Sit a while, you’ll need to keep eating and drinking. Don’t mind Lin. He’s never good in the mornings.”
“You a Medici too?”
He shook his head and laughed, “I’ve picked up a few useful things.” A white powder was passed out, which he mixed with the water heating on the fire. It proved to taste as disgusting as the resulting liquid smelt.
