by Megg Jensen
“You’ll figure it out soon enough,” Johna said with a nod of her head. “We all do. Very few people have had the spark and never learned their gift.”
“What happens if they don’t?” Ivy set down her spoon in the empty bowl.
“Imagine you knew you were supposed to be able to talk, but couldn’t. Everyone around you could speak, tell jokes or sing songs. Yet you sat silently by day after day just watching them,” Johna paused. “It tears some people apart.”
My eyes widened. Even if I never figured out my gift, I couldn’t believe it would damage me much. Being free was the best reward I’d ever been given.
“It’ll come to you, Reychel,” Johna continued. “Someone with as much power as you can’t stay silent for long.”
Chapter Seven
A rapid knock at the door woke me from the first restful night’s sleep I could remember. Ivy stirred next to me on the bed, jabbing her elbow into my back.
“What’s going on?” she murmured, obviously enjoying sleeping in for a change. It was a rare treat to not wake up with the first light.
“Shh,” I whispered. “There’s someone at the door.”
Our eyes grew wide as we crept to the door of the bedroom, our nightclothes silently sweeping the floor. Johna’s bed sat neatly made while our makeshift cots on the floor lay rumpled with sheets. I assumed Johna was already in the front of the cottage as she was nowhere to be seen. Yesterday she warned us to stay out of sight and we weren’t about to violate her rules. But we also wanted to know what was going on, so we lay down on the floor and listened through the crack under the door.
“Good morning, Roc,” Johna said. “What can I get for you? Millie feeling alright?”
“Aye, she’s better this morning, thanks to you. She’s no longer feeling the pains in her back. The baby seems safe for now.”
“Glad to hear that. What can I do for you today?”
“Oh, just a little more of those herbs for her bath, please. She says it helps her relax when the baby wears her out. He’s so heavy these days.”
“Of course, of course. All women feel discomfort during pregnancy. It’s natural.”
I heard a crinkling noise as Johna rustled through her herbs on the wall.
“Do you think this baby will be the one?” Roc asked.
“The one what?”
“You know, the Prophet,” he whispered.
“Do you really believe in that nonsense?” she chided. “How would one child save our people?”
“Well, the prophecy says…”
“I don’t care what the prophecy says,” Johna interrupted. “You take care of you and yours and that’s all the saving you need.”
“Yes,” he chuckled. “I suppose so. It’s silly of me to go on about children’s stories as if they’re true.”
“Now get yourself home to your beautiful wife. Soon you’ll be coming here to let me know that the baby is on its way.”
“Thanks again, Johna. I don’t know how the village got on before you came here.”
“Glad I can help.”
What prophecy was he talking about? I glanced at Ivy but she didn’t seem surprised. In fact she had lost interest early in the conversation and crawled back into bed. I backed away from the door too, pulled off my sleeping clothes and slid into a dress.
“You can come out now, girls,” Johna called. “I know you’ve been listening at the door.”
I nudged Ivy with my toe and she pulled the blanket over her head. I crawled over and poked her in the side. She jerked and giggled. With a sigh, and a roll of her eyes, she sat up. I stood up, took her hands in mine, and pulled her to her feet. She changed into a dress quickly too.
“How did you know?” I asked Johna, opening the door. I walked through with Ivy close behind.
“It’s my gift,” Johna said. “I know what people are thinking.”
“But I thought it had something to do with herbs,” Ivy said, pointing at the dried bunches all around.
“No, no, that’s just my trade. Gotta make a living and I like to help people. Now have some breakfast, girls, before someone else decides to stop by unexpectedly.”
We dug into the porridge and bread Johna laid out for us. Ivy barely stopped to breathe while I couldn’t get the conversation Johna and Roc had out of my head.
“What’s the prophecy?” I asked.
“Oh yes, serious stuff,” Johna said. “I wasn’t going to talk to you about that yet, but now that the cat’s out of the bag I will.”
Johna settled behind the front counter with an assortment of herbs and small brown burlap bags. With a small knife she pulled from her hip belt, she cut the herbs into tiny pieces, ground them up with a mortar and pestle, and divided them into the little bags.
“You know you’re part of the seventh generation, right?” Johna said.
“No, never heard of it,” I said. “Have you, Ivy?”
“I remember something about it from a story my momma told me before she died and Kandek bought me. She used to tell me that a child from our generation would liberate everyone. This child was supposed to have an amazing gift for prophecy.” She bent over to take a bite of her food. “But it’s not real. It’s just a story. No point in having hope, my momma used to say.”
“It is true,” Johna said.
“That there’s no point in having hope?” Ivy asked, her porridge still in her mouth.
“No, the prophecy. It is quite true and we’ve been waiting for a long time for the Prophet to tell us she’s here. Hasn’t happened yet.”
“That story wasn’t sanctioned in Kandek’s house. The man is so paranoid,” Ivy said. “No wonder Reychel’s never heard it.”
“And what’s the seventh generation?” I asked.
“You really were sheltered in that castle, weren’t you?” Johna asked. “Well, six generations ago the Malborn took power. They promised the natives that if they just followed three simple rules, everyone could live in harmony. But within a year, they managed to enslave nearly everyone who lived on our island. Their people took over and subjugated our ancestors to lives of slavery.
“Slowly they allowed people to live on their own in small towns, like this one, as long as they followed the three rules. But breaking a rule meant death. Not just for the outlaw, but for his family. They slaughtered half of the population in ten years.”
The porridge cooled in its bowl as I laid my spoon down. How could I eat when I was hearing a new story? I didn’t just enjoy telling stories; I loved listening to others too. It amazed me I had never heard this one before.
I knew the basics, but I’d always been led to believe the Malborn were only looking out for our welfare, helping our people when we needed it most. All those years ago, the Serenians had faced a terrible drought. The Malborn came across the ocean with the means to help my people, but we ended up as slaves. Not a pretty story, but not one filled with prophecies either. I could understand why Kandek didn’t allow this incendiary version.
“People lived in fear until one day a man with a rare gift stepped forward,” Johna continued. “He told of a child who would save us all from the Malborn’s tyranny. He was the only one of his gift to be born in a hundred years and said we would have to wait seven generations for the next to be born.”
Johna paused, her hands shaking. “But no one is allowed to speak of the prophecy without facing death. The Malborn put him to death immediately and added one more law to their rule of three: No one is to speak of the prophecy or face immediate execution. Roc was a fool for saying that here. What if I had turned him in? It wouldn’t take much to get to Wendak and tell your master. He’d be executed and then where would his unborn baby be? Probably dead too because they’d go after the whole family.”
We exchanged a glance across our breakfast. The world of slavery we had left was simple and confining, but the outside world seemed more dangerous than anything we had ever faced. I felt like a newborn, because I didn’t know anything practical a
bout the world I lived in.
“What are the three rules?” Ivy asked. “We ought to know if we’re to follow them once we’re able to leave. We didn’t live by these rules under Kandek’s thumb. We just kept our mouths shut and did our jobs.”
“Trust, adore, obey.”
“Doesn’t sound too hard,” Ivy said.
“Sounds like they wanted to get married,” I remarked.
“It does a bit, doesn’t it?” Johna said. “That’s what our people thought. They were enamored with the Malborn and their rich way of life. They flaunted their wealth, but no one thought to question where it came from.”
“They subjected everyone they conquered,” I guessed. I had lived with slavery as a simple fact of life. It had never occurred to me that I really should be free. Life had seemed so simple. But now I had so many questions, seemingly dangerous ones.
“What was this outlaw’s gift?” Ivy asked. “Was it premonition?”
“No one really knows,” Johna said. “After he died, there were people born with the gift of premonition, or knowing what was to come. He had the unique ability not only to see forward but to see the truth in the past. It is said he could tell when someone was lying and he knew what they were going to say. It was a truly unique gift.”
“Wow, I can’t even imagine living with that,” I said. “I bet there was a lot to sort through in his head.”
“There was,” Johna said. “Some people said he was losing his mind from dealing with all of the information. Not long before being executed he hid in his house, refusing to come outside. The shutters were closed and he nearly lived in the dark. Some people swore he only came outside when it was raining.”
“Sounds like you,” Ivy laughed, pointing at me.
“Yeah,” I giggled, “but he had a choice and I never have. I’m so sick of being stuck inside that I can barely stand it.”
“Don’t worry, child.” Johna patted my shoulder. “They’ll give up on you soon enough. No slave was ever worth enough to a master to mount a search for long. He’ll get distracted and forget you ever existed.”
“I hope so,” I said. “I just want to live a normal life.”
A hurried knock at the door interrupted our conversation.
“Open up!” an angry voice demanded. “You’re under arrest.”
Chapter Eight
“You,” Johna pointed to Ivy. “Wig on and stand behind the counter. You,” she pointed to me, “under the counter.”
I grabbed my breakfast bowl and scrambled under the dark wooden counter. There wasn’t much space so I pulled my legs into a ball, resting my head on my knees. My heart pounded and I wondered if it would burst through my chest. I concentrated on slowing down my rapid breaths. Even if I couldn’t be seen, I might be heard. Through a small knot in the wood, I saw Johna square her shoulders and fling the door open.
“What did I do?” she demanded to the guard standing on the doorstep. I could only see his right arm and right boot, but it was easy enough to identify the uniform of one of Kandek’s honor guard.
“I’m searching for an escaped slave and I heard reports about a young girl sneaking into your house last night.”
He pushed his way past Johna, entering the small cottage. His boots rested in front of me, but he stood slightly to the left leaving my limited view clear.
“As you can see, there is a girl in my house,” Johna said, pointing to Ivy. “But she’s my niece, come here to learn the trade of herbology. There’s no sneaking here.”
“Explain the charges, then old woman,” the guard demanded.
“How can I explain charges I know nothing about? She’s my niece.”
Ivy kept silent during the conversation, but I could see her fingers rubbing together. She must be dying to use her gift.
The front door creaked, opening farther, as another soldier entered the cottage. Johna blocked my view of his face, but another soldier couldn’t be good news. I closed my eyes and concentrated on taking metered breaths.
“Anything wrong here Madame Johna?” he asked.
Ivy nudged me with her foot and my eyes flew open. I peeked out the knothole again, seeing that the second guard had moved into my line of view. My breath held in my chest as I looked at this new, stunning guard. Dark hair fell lightly across his face, but not far enough to hide his green eyes, which focused on the first guard as he waited for a response.
“Mark, no, no, everything is fine,” Johna said, taking his arm and maneuvering him back towards the door. “Just go.”
“I’m not going anywhere until I know that you’re okay.”
Mark pealed Johna’s fingers from his arm and faced the other guard.
“Can you identify that woman?” the guard asked him, pointing at Ivy.
Mark’s gaze settled on Ivy. I felt her twitch slightly as I waited for Mark’s ignorance of the situation to give us all away.
“Of course,” he said, “that’s Madame Johna’s niece. She arrived recently to apprentice in herbology. Why? Has she done something wrong?”
“No, apparently not,” the guard murmured. “My apologies, madam.”
He walked to the doorway and then stopped and turned.
“She doesn’t fit the description of the missing slave anyway. Your girl has blue eyes. The one we’re looking for has amber eyes. If you hear anything, send a message to the outpost. Good travels,” he said and left the cottage, closing the door behind him.
Not ready to emerge yet, because I didn’t know if Mark could be trusted, I stayed under the counter, watching him through the hole.
“Mark, how did you know just what to say?” Johna asked, pulling him into a hug. His sword clanged at his side as he lifted his arms to squeeze her back.
“I was walking by and heard you outside the door. Good thing he didn’t think to shut the door behind him or I couldn’t have backed up your lie. I overheard everything,” he said with a smile.
“You’ve saved us,” she said.
“From what? Obviously she isn’t the slave they’re looking for,” he said, gesturing to Ivy. “Eyes are the wrong color.”
Mark moved to the counter until all I could see of him were the tips of his boots.
“Or did you do something to change them?” he asked.
“I’m Ivy,” I saw Ivy’s arm disappear above the counter to shake his hand.
“Reychel, come on out, dear,” Johna said. “Mark is safe. Probably the only person in town I’d trust you to.”
I crawled out from under the counter and met Mark’s eyes. Seeing him up close, not through a knothole, caused my heart to flutter. I swallowed hard and held out my hand.
He didn’t take it. Instead he reached to my head with both hands. I didn’t flinch as he straightened my wig.
“No one’s going to believe you’re not a slave if you don’t keep your wig straight,” he said, grinning.
“Mark is the son of the potter down the road,” Johna explained. “He’s been irritating me since he was a little boy.”
“Yep, I made it my life’s mission to keep Madame Johna from her work. Lucky for me, she was kind enough to humor a curious little boy who ruined her herb garden.”
“You didn’t ruin it,” she laughed. “You just trampled it. There’s a difference.”
She paused for a moment. “Mark knows about us.”
“Then you’re like us?” Ivy asked. Her eyelashes fluttered and she cocked her head to the side. Ivy was known for her flirting with other male slaves and they couldn’t resist her. Not even Grey. For the longest time, I thought he was interested in her, not me. I still wasn’t sure because I didn’t get the chance to find out.
Mark laughed. “Oh no, my only talent lies in fighting. I’m a soldier at heart and by trade.”
“Are you looking for me too?” I asked quietly.
“Yes, but I don’t put too much effort into searching for missing slaves. It’s not like I turned him away so I could have you to myself,” he said, winking. I felt a b
lush crept over my neck. I was grateful for the long wig that covered most of my bare skin.
Mark sat down on the bench and propped his boots up on another chair.
“Your cottage hasn’t changed a bit since I left,” he said. “Did you know I just got back today?”
“And thank Eloh you did,” Johna said. “Though I would have thought you’d learned some manners in the military. Get your boots off of my chair.” She swatted him with a towel.
“Sorry,” he said, grinning. “Old habits are hard to break.”
“Have you been home to see your parents?” Johna asked.
“Not yet,” he said. “I was coming from the west and happened upon your little drama first. I suppose I’ll make it home in a bit.”
“Can I get you anything?” Ivy asked him. “Some breakfast maybe? Or a drink?”
“A tumbler of mead would be great,” he answered, tossing Ivy a huge smile.
“Now tell me what’s so interesting about you that Kandek wants you back so badly?” Mark turned to me as Ivy poured his drink. “I know it’s not your wig straightening abilities.”
“I honestly don’t know. I didn’t do anything important around the castle.”
“Except for your private conversations with the master,” Ivy shot out. “What were those all about? Does that have something to do with why he wants you back?”
Mark’s eyebrows rose as he looked back to me. The blush turned to embarrassment. Ivy was the one person who had always supported me and never questioned my motives. Why would she bring this up now?
“You had a private audience with Kandek?” Mark asked in disbelief. “He’s one of the most difficult men to get alone, at least according to my captain. Even when discussing strategy, he prefers a large audience. That’s strange.”
“I don’t know why,” I said. “He was always nice to me. In fact, it’s one of the few times I was allowed to see the outside world. He would open the shutters and let me peer out into the world. It was the only time I felt free,” I whispered.
