by K.N. Lee
Gilly did a quick calculation on the lead Erov’s magical travel had given them. She wasn’t happy with the result, but nodded. Two days was better than a week.
“That also suits me,” Talus said. “It’s adequate time to visit with the King’s Warrior encampment in Perm.”
Once Tom agreed, Cullen, likely sensing his companions might go on without him, shrugged his reluctant consent. “I’ll come too. Safer traveling long distances in a group than alone.”
They returned to their trek toward Perm.
“I’ll keep an eye on Anna and the children while we’re in the city.” Tom’s rusty brown gaze was steady on Gilly’s, as if inviting her to rely on him.
Wanting to show that she did believe in him, she boldly wove her fingers through his.
His smile grew so bright it rivaled the white-tipped Makakala range. He also seemed to stand a little taller, and a warm flush of happiness infused her, pushing her worries into forgotten crevices.
The rest of the afternoon was uneventful, which gave Gilly time to think of her future. Something she had not done in a long while. Since her escape from the cottage with baby Anna in her arms, Gilly’s sole purpose had been to keep her sister safe, and then to watch over Anna’s children, too. Now she contemplated a future in which Tom might play a prominent role.
Her previous worry immediately surfaced. How had he guessed at her real name? The only rational explanation was that he had taken it out of what Aton and Jarrod called her, Lady Saira-Gilly. Since Erovians claimed to be Perm’s record keepers, perhaps Tom placed credence on how they addressed Gilly. Before she could confirm his accurate guess, she must first tell her sister. Anna deserved the truth. Her sister would rage at such a disclosure, and her fury would be justified.
Surely, facing her sister’s anger wouldn’t be any harder to bear than what she had already suffered? For decades Anna had scoffed at Gilly, ridiculed her, and worst of all, ignored her. The result? Gilly had lived in a state of never-ending loneliness.
Until this past week.
After twenty years of being disregarded, Anna’s recent thaw felt precious. Losing their new closeness was unthinkable. Gilly hugged her midriff with her free arm and blinked away her tears.
Yet, this had to be done, and not only so she could grow closer to Tom. For, while Anna repeatedly refused to heed advice about the king’s evil intentions from a woman she considered no more than a cowardly servant, there was a slim chance she might listen to her sister’s warning.
That breath of optimism kept Gilly company until they arrived in Perm. As it was twilight, the gates were locked. Gilly glanced up at the tall gray stone walls. High above, crossbow-armed men patrolled, while below, layers of dull colored tents surrounded the fortress like a many-layered skirt.
“Why is everyone living out here?” Skye asked.
“Space inside is reserved for Perm’s permanent populace,” Talus said. “Marton, will you guard the women and children while Tom, Cullen and I scout for a suitable place to set up Lord Jarrod’s tent?” He hefted the sealed bag over his shoulder. “We might be awhile.”
Marton nodded.
Gilly watched the men leave, her worries returning in a rush now Tom no longer held her hand.
While Marton tied the horses to a post and checked on his children, Anna pointed to a bench. “Let’s sit over there. My feet are killing me, so yours must be sore, too.”
Gilly nodded, glad for a chance to rest.
“Are you excited to see the city?” Anna asked, adjusting her skirt.
“Yes,” Gilly rubbed her throbbing left thigh, “but I don’t like being this close to a King’s Horsemen’s garrison.”
“They won’t notice us if we act like every other stranger who has come to visit Perm’s markets. We’ll be safer inside this city than in Tibor.”
Anna held up her hand before Gilly could plunge into her opinion about the daft plan to go to the king’s city. “Yes, we’re still going, Gilly. Our feud has to end. Which won’t happen until we show his majesty my family and I are no longer a threat. I’m more certain of that now than ever. Also, we cannot keep hiding from the horsemen for the rest of our lives. They’re a part of Ryca and we must find a way to make peace with them too.”
Gilly’s chest tightened with each word. Tell her! “Anna, I need to confess something.”
At the same moment, Anna said, “What I’d rather discuss is why you were holding Tom’s hand all day?”
Gilly was horrified that Anna had noticed that gesture, while Anna frowned at her as if with concern.
“It meant nothing,” Gilly said, her cheeks warm.
“It’s none of my business, of course,” Anna began and then gave her a cautious glance, “but since we’ve been on the run, you’ve become almost a part of my family.”
The admission was hauntingly touching, and vastly shocking.
“Marton commented on it, too,” Anna continued. “He’s happy because he likes Tom, but Tom’s not right for you.”
That set Gilly back, and instead of hotly denying there was anything for Marton to be happy about, what came out instead was, “Why not?”
“He’s not good enough.”
Gilly’s racing thoughts screeched to a halt. “But he was training to be a King’s Bodyguard!”
“Whatever he was training to be, he’s now a drunkard.”
“He hasn’t touched a drop since we left Nadym.”
“Only because he hasn’t had access. Now we’re in Perm, let’s see how long he stays away from an alehouse. Also, even if he was proven innocent in Erov, he could still be responsible for killing Vyan in Nadym.”
“He is not!” Gilly said in a fierce whisper. She could not picture Tom killing anyone.
Skye ran over then. “Mama, Papa says I’m not to disturb you and Gilly, but I want to know what you’re talking about.” She squeezed herself between Gilly and her mother.
Marton strolled over with Bevan asleep on his shoulder. “Sorry, Anna, tried to keep her away.”
“But she’s willful,” Anna finished in mock anger and tucked a lock of her daughter’s hair behind her ear. However, she looked as relieved as Gilly felt about the interruption, for they had been on the verge of another fight. Her sister could be so trying. If she didn’t know better, she’d almost think Anna was jealous of her growing closeness with Tom.
Which was ridiculous. Or was it? Anna was territorial. Evidence, her objection to Skye becoming fond of Gilly. But for Anna to feel possessive of me, she would have to really mean what she said earlier, about considering me part of her family.
“Mama,” Skye snuggled closer to Gilly, wrapping a slim arm around her midriff, “now you know her better, do you love her too?”
Gilly held her breath as her gaze locked with Anna’s. Her sister’s answer meant more than she would ever realize.
Finally, Anna said, “I’m working on it, Skye.”
Gilly’s breath eased out of her tight chest and she broke eye contact before Anna noticed her mist up. She hugged Skye to hide her distraught face.
Cullen returned then. “We’ve found an open spot. Talus and Tom are setting up.” He fetched his horse. “This way.”
Anna stood and then turned back to Gilly. “We can finish this conversation later.”
“Tomorrow,” Gilly said. But she planned to discuss something more personal than Tom’s innocence.
They arrived at their camping spot to find it surrounded by a crowd commenting about their tent. And no wonder. Even at dusk, the bright sky-blue tent was unmistakable beside its darker muddier companions. Gilly’s cheeks grew hot with mortification.
“Better than getting rained on, I suppose.” Talus tied the last string in place and grinned at Tom as he stood up. He playfully shoved his new friend’s shoulder. “We’ll have to buy our neighbors a few ales to quiet their laughter, eh Tom.”
Anna sent Gilly a knowing glance that she ignored and stepped into the tent, fingers crossed it wouldn’t b
e bigger insider than out. It was a perfectly ordinary tent, if bright colored. She released a big sigh of relief. That would have been truly hard to explain away to Cullen’s inquisitive mind.
After a light meal, she went outside to place a few discreet spells but Cullen was at her heels. “After that climb, I’ll sleep soundly tonight,” he said, stretching his arms wide.
With her spell stones biting at her skin within her tightly clenched fists, Gilly nodded without replying.
“Erov was a strange place, huh?” he said. “Did you get the feeling they practiced magic?”
“Magic is forbidden.” Gilly’s rising tension matched her spell’s rhythmic vibration.
“So it is,” Cullen said, “but it doesn’t seem to stop foolish people from playing with fire.”
Gilly gave up on her plan to place a few protection spells around the tent. If the minstrel followed her every step, using magic was out of the question. “I think you’re right.”
He gave her a startled look. “About what?”
“I’m tired too. Good night.”
She stepped inside. Unfortunately, Cullen followed her in there too, tracking her progress to her pack laid beside Anna. Unease crawled up her back. Her fingers tingled as the unspent magical energy of her stones sparked.
She settled down and laid her head on her pack, discreetly tucking her stones out of sight. Where her spells were absent, the men in their company would have to guard them. That worry, however, did not keep her eyelids from closing. Bone tired, she lost track of murmurs around her as darkness swept in.
She awoke with a gasp from a terrifying dream, her heart thudding against her chest. Dawn had barely broken and the tent was still fairly dark. Everyone was asleep. She took her pack and tiptoed outside and then started at finding Marton there. He nodded to her. She breathed in relief. She must still be jumpy from her dream. “I can take over after I wash up.”
“Not necessary. I just took watch from Tom.”
She nodded and made her way toward a nearby stream flowing down the mountainside. The water was blessedly cool on her hot cheeks. While her dream had begun joyfully, with her walking around Perm hand-in-hand with Tom, it soon turned nasty with people pointing and laughing at her lopsided gait. Then green-cloaked horsemen careened around a corner shouting for Tom, accusing him of Vyan’s murder. She had woken up as they tore him from her embrace.
As the morning rays lightened the day, she realized her dream had been a mishmash of recent events and conversations. Yet, the part that was most difficult to shake off was her limp, for it was very real and mirrored a fear she had lived with since she was old enough to crave a man’s attention.
In Nadym, she had not minded her deformity. Much. After all, everyone in the village knew her and had seen her irregular walk most of her life. In Erov, they had treated her like royalty. Even if she didn’t deserve such attention, she had felt cherished and honored.
The visit to Erov, however, had also revealed another fact. Tom belonged in Tibor, at the palace, among men like Talus. Not with a lame goat herder who was too afraid to use her real name. She now viewed her growing closeness to him with unkind shameful eyes.
She could picture Tom in Tibor, being strong enough in body and mind to reclaim his role as King’s Bodyguard. Perhaps even pick a courtier as his wife. While the only place she saw her belonging was in a village like Nadym, with her goats.
For twenty years, she had been perfectly content with that lonely life. She could be again once she convinced Anna to forget about Tibor. As long as she was with her sister, she could be happy anywhere but in Tibor.
Bells began ringing as she left the stream. A clarion call to announce the opening of the city gates.
Determined to stay put this day, Gilly had thought up a more reasonable excuse to avoid going into Perm with Tom. She arrived at their tent in time to see Talus wave goodbye. Tom smiled a warm welcome from the fire where their breakfast was cooking and offered her a spot beside him.
Gilly, mindful of her intention to keep her distance from him, sat beside Anna.
Her sister gave her a nod of approval while Tom’s shoulders stiffened and his bright smile dimmed.
“Where are the children?” Gilly leaned past Anna to look inside the pinned-up blue tent flap.
“Off making friends,” Anna said.
“Cullen’s offered to escort us to the marketplace,” Marton said. “He says they have all manner of entertainment.”
“I’m going to stay here,” Gilly said in a firm tone. “To guard our belongings.”
Tom looked crestfallen and Gilly died a little inside.
Anna’s approval vanished, replaced by a thunderous frown that said an argument was imminent. Luckily, just then, Skye and Bevan ran over with a crowd of children.
“Mama,” Skye said, “this boy says I lied and I didn’t.”
Anna turned to the group. A boy about her daughter’s age looked belligerent. His fists resting on his hips dared her to contradict him.
“What do you believe she lied about?” Anna asked.
“She said she came from Erov,” the boy replied. “That’s a lie. Erov is a legend. It doesn’t exist. My ma said so.”
Before anyone could respond, Cullen spoke up. “That’s exactly where we’ve been. And you can tell your mother Cullen the Minstrel said so.”
The boy’s jaw dropped and his eyes lit up. “You’re a minstrel? A real one? Will you tell us a story, sir?”
“I might.” Cullen was at his best, all smiles and gracious gentleman. “If you’re good and your parents wish to pay for the pleasure. I’ll be in the market, come find me.”
The boy turned to Skye with more respect in his eyes. Belonging to the party of a minstrel had raised her status. “I’m going to ask my ma if we can go for a telling.” He was off at a run, and the other children scattered, suggesting Cullen’s corner of the marketplace was about to become popular.
Anna took a hold of Skye and Bevan before they ran off.
“Do you think that was wise?” Gilly asked Cullen. “Admitting we were at Erov?”
“Why not?” Cullen said with a smirk. “We have nothing to hide, do we, Lady Saira-Gilly?”
“What Gilly probably meant,” Marton said, “is that we want to go to Tibor, not be the center of attraction at Perm.”
Bless the Light for sensible Marton.
“Our tent’s color destroyed any hope of being inconspicuous,” Cullen said. “Besides, sharing this kind of delicious news is part of how I make my living. And right now, it’s the best story in my arsenal.”
Anna bent to speak with her children. “Your papa will take you into the market. You are to stay with him no matter how tempting anything seems. No straying. Understood?”
“Yes, Mama.” Skye took her brother’s hand as if she never meant to let go.
“You’re not coming with us, Anna?” Now Marton appeared as despondent as Tom.
“I’ll meet you there soon.” Anna kissed him goodbye. “I want to speak with Gilly first.”
Tom came around the fire and knelt on one knee beside Gilly. “Are you sure you won’t come with us?”
“I’m looking forward to resting a little this morning, Tom. It was a long hike to get here.”
“Would you like me to stay with you?”
“That won’t be necessary,” Anna said. “Because Gilly will be coming with me.”
“No, she won’t. I mean I won’t. I don’t need company either. I had a restless night so I’ll probably sleep most of the time.” She added in an undertone to Tom, “You promised me you would keep an eye on Anna and the children.”
He gave her a reproachful glance, but then relented and joined Cullen, Marton and the children.
Gilly watched them walk away with bittersweet relief.
Her sister’s threat of a talk boded ill so Gilly went inside their tent and took out the journal and quill Jarrod had given her. The excuse of recording recent events would be a great way to l
ook busy.
Anna spoke to someone outside before she followed Gilly. “I’ve been asked to speak about Erov.”
That brought Gilly’s nose out of her book in short order. “Anna, despite what Cullen said, we should hide our knowledge of Erov. Especially with horsemen nearby.”
Her sister’s face took on its customary stubborn cast. “You’re a great one for hiding, aren’t you?” Anna’s narrow-eyed glare said they were no longer talking about Erov.
She had been waiting for this moment. And lying was no longer an option. Tell her who you are.
Her throat constricted, her pulse sped up and her breath became trapped in her chest. And the silence stretched like a vibrating cord. Anna, I’m your sister. So clear in head but not a whisper slipped passed her lips.
Gilly looked away first, her defeated gaze falling to the words she had written. They were lines without meaning, a hazy scribble, as silent as her confession.
“One day, you’ll have to give up your secrets,” Anna said.
Ashamed of her cowardice but unable to do anything about it, Gilly did not reply.
“Unlike you, I’m not ashamed of who I am, or what I look like, or how I walk.” With a swish of her skirt, her sister swung around and left.
Gilly glanced up at her scraping movement, and with astonishment observed her sister’s left hip rise unnaturally high and then fall in a circular motion as Anna limped outside. It was a fine imitation. Anna had done this before, in Nadym, when she made fun of Gilly. Then, her unkindness had hurt enormously.
Today, a smile spread Gilly’s lips at her sister’s antics, for Anna was provoking her into facing up to her insecurities. Her heart swelled with love for her little sister.
A tear of pure joy slid down her cheek and splashed across a blank space on her open journal and beaded. If she tried to wipe it away, she would make a worse mess. With a defeated sigh, she waited for the wetness to spread and smudge nearby letters. To her surprise, the teardrop lay unmoving, and then sank into the page in a sparkling of blue/white Light.
With a trembling finger, she touched the spot and found the paper was tinder dry, no stain in sight. Beneath her finger, a new line of text appeared. She moved her hand aside and written on the page were the words, “Anna, I’m your sister.” Then that scribble, too, winked out of existence.
