The Girl from the North (Pathway of the Chosen Book 1)

by Cat Bruno

  “Would you care for something to eat, Louissia?” he asked.

  As he spoke, he opened the basket, placing the plates that Melita, Pietro’s serving maid, had packed onto the blanket before setting out the slices of cold chicken and wedges of assorted cheeses. Melita had also added some freshly baked bread and blackberries, and, for dessert, she had baked some honey cakes topped with sugary crumbs.

  “It all looks so lovely! You and Pietro really have outdone yourselves!”

  Kennet flushed and nearly admitted that he could take no credit for the meal, but Pietro winked at him from where he was embracing Talia, and Kennet stayed silent. Instead, he handed the bowl of ripe, deep-purple berries to Louissia, forcing himself to smile as he did so, reminding himself that a little lie would harm no one.

  Soon, Pietro and Talia joined them on the blanket, and the foursome shared the food and wine, laughing and telling tales. Before long, Kennet was stuffed with food and whirling with wine and quite content, finally at ease enough to talk with Louissia.

  As the sun shifted overhead, starting its arc downward, the group finished the first bottle of wine and were nearly through with the second one when Kennet noticed that Pietro was unlacing Talia’s bodice strings. As quickly as he could, he looked away, wondering if he had missed the signal from Pietro that they had discussed earlier. Assuming that he had, Kennet turned to Louissia and asked her if she would care to walk down to the water’s edge with him.

  When she quickly agreed, the two of them slipped off, with barely any notice from Pietro and Talia, and headed toward the rolling waves that were pulling away from the beach. Walking together on the firm sand, they strolled until they could no longer see the site of the picnic. Then, they strolled by some children playing along the shore, chasing a wooden toy boat as it rode the waves back and forth. Finding a group of palms on the edge of a curve, Kennet invited Louissia to sit down, his heart thumping as he did so.

  Thankful to be out of the midday sun, yet still damp with sweat, Kennet leaned back onto the curved bark of the tree, trying hard to appear calmer than he really was. He closed his eyes briefly, enjoying the peace of the moment, nervous, yet excited to be with Louissia. As he turned to speak with her, she leaned forward and kissed him awkwardly.

  Kennet felt his face burning, yet he was even more humiliated by the reaction underneath his robe, certain that Louissia, as close as she was, could feel it. He pulled away from her, worried what she would think. The look on her face as he gazed at her confused him, yet he recognized it as similar to the look there the previous night when he had left her outside of her uncle’s home. When she addressed him, anger in her voice, Kennet’s concern grew, especially once she rose, looking down at him.

  “Is there something so wrong with me, Kennet? Why invite me for a walk and then push me away? I may not be as pretty as Talia, but I had thought you different than other men. I guess I was wrong!”

  “Louissia, please don’t leave! You don’t understand, I mean you no offense, but this is all new to me. I apologize if I have upset you. I am mortified to admit this to you, but, well, when you kissed me, I liked it. A little too much, perhaps.”

  Louissia stared at Kennet, then added, “You’re certain that this has nothing to do with that woman Pietro told us about, the new Master Apprentice?”

  She seemed upset, tears at the edges of her eyes, and Kennet felt even worse now, blaming himself for his cowardice.

  “Do you mean Bronwen? She is a close friend of mine and has been for some time now, but we are no more than that, Louissia, I promise you. What has Pietro said about her?”

  Hurriedly, she replied, “Oh, well, he told both Talia and me about her. How she is always with you and how much you do for her. To be honest, Kennet, she will not make much of a Master if she relies on you all of the time. And, not only that, but he also mentioned that she has been missing for over a quarter moon, and that she might have some strange illness, one that you might catch if you keep aiding her! Is it so, Kennet, will you be ill soon?”

  Kennet’s head was spinning with the sudden mention of Bronwen, enough so that his arousal soon vanished. Replacing it was part confusion and part anger, particularly at Pietro telling such lies about Bronwen and him. While it was true that he often helped Bronwen, their relationship had always been as close friends. Although, Kennet had to admit to himself that over the last moon, feelings between the two of them were complicated, mostly due to what he considered Bronwen’s preoccupation with the Tribe. And then, too, there was the one time that Bronwen kissed him in the dining hall, in front of both Master Rova and her foster mother, Sheva. Perhaps rumors started after that, he thought.

  “Bronwen is not ill, and you need not worry yourself with my well-being, Louissia, although it is nice of you to do so.”

  “Then what is wrong with her, Kennet? Usually when a woman her age is ill for so long and in hiding, it means only one thing. Is that it?” Louissia asked, her voice now clearer and more determined.

  He looked down toward the black rocks that his feet tapped against, wondering how to answer such a direct question. Kennet knew that if he refused to talk about Bronwen, then Louissia would most likely assume that what Pietro had told her was truth. Then, Kennet would be able to do very little to prove otherwise. However, he could not disclose Bronwen’s secrets and, as a result, felt conflicted.

  Louissia continued to eye him suspiciously, her dark gaze narrowing as she watched him, waiting for an explanation. It was she who spoke first, finally breaking the impasse.

  “So you have nothing to say? I figured as much. We farm girls might not know much in the ways of books or reading, but we know people, Kennet. And I think that your friend Bronwen has gotten herself with child, and, perhaps, if what Pietro says is true, you are the father. What say you to that?”

  His stomach heaved, churning underneath the clean robe that Pietro had forced him to wear, until he was afraid that he would dirty it with the contents of their lunch. Sweat trickled down his back and beaded up on his forehead in such amounts that his spectacles soon became blurry and foggy. Disorientation overtook him, thoughts and questions swirling around until Kennet no longer knew what to believe. Pietro was spreading lies about Bronwen or, in the least, passing on the rumors without trying to clear her reputation, or Kennet’s.

  As his stomach quieted, Kennet gently removed his spectacles, rubbing them with the edge of his cotton robe before placing them back on his face.

  “Louissia, is that what Pietro has been saying? If so, he lies. And he will have to answer for it. Bronwen is and will always be a friend to me. No more, despite what anyone, Pietro included, says. She is not with child. She was badly hurt recently, and hiding away until the bruises faded. I shouldn’t even say that much, as she wanted no one to know, but I trust you, Louissia.”

  It seemed that Louissia believed him, yet she asked, “How badly is she hurt? Is she not one of the best healers around, Kennet? Does she know so little that she cannot heal herself?”

  Kennet abruptly rose, his step unbalanced on the thick, craggy rocks. He stumbled and paced about the sand, finally stopping a few feet down from where Louissia still sat, glancing up at her from what seemed like a safe distance.

  His cheeks aflame, his straw-like hair thrown across his face by the sticky breeze and his shining blue eyes suddenly no longer placid, Kennet screeched, “Bronwen has suffered much by hands that should have never dared touch one such as her. I will not listen to you speak unkind words about someone you do not even know. Now I must get back to work, but let me walk you home first.”

  “I do not need help, Kennet! I know how to find my way home,” Louissia fumed, anger in her trembling voice.

  Before Kennet could respond, Louissia turned and fled up the grassy dune that sloped behind the large rocks, disappearing quickly from Kennet’s view. His first thought was to try to catch up with her, remembering what had happened to Bronwen when she was alone near where he stood now. Yet, he was
tired and angry, and he wanted nothing but to go back to his office and wished that he had sent Pietro away when he had first come into the library. Still, he wondered how Bronwen was faring, and, after a few moments, Kennet decided that he needed to find her, maybe even tell her about the rumors Louissia had mentioned.

  As he walked down the well-trodden path that edged the beach, Kennet searched for Louissia, hoping that she had doubled back, yet when there was no sign of her, he promised himself that on the morrow he would seek her out and apologize, guilt-ridden for his harsh words to her.

  *****

  When Louissia finally stumbled back to the picnic area, she found both Talia and Pietro there, reclining on the blanket, smiling at one another as they shared a dripping citrus, passing the sticky orange fruit between them. Talia’s long, thick hair hung freely down her back, tangled and sandy, and her frock was tattered, damp along the back. Pietro’s robe looked no better, although his tousled hair only made him look more handsome, Louissia thought. His cheeks were rosy, and his light eyes shined, leading Louissia to believe that he had won what he had sought. As she grimaced, knowing that Talia would talk of nothing else for moons to come, Louissia was spotted, first by Pietro, whose smile suddenly vanished.

  “Hey there! All alone? What happened to Kennet? I hope you were not too much woman for him. He scares easily, you know,” Pietro called out, mockery evident in each word that slurred from his full lips.

  Ignoring him, Louissia turned toward her cousin, addressing her in rolling Tretorian, asking her if she was ready to walk back to town and reminding her that they had promised to be home in time for the late-day meal.

  Pietro interrupted the women, sensing that Louissia was ill-pleased and about to take Talia with her, and smoothly said, “What am I to do here? I have two beautiful women in front of me talking, yet I know not what they say!”

  Pietro had learned at an early age the art of flattery, having spent quite a bit of time at houses with more prestige and money than his had ever known. Rexterran society relied heavily on appearances, rewarding those who could navigate the inner workings of the high court with charm and guile. Words were always his finest weapon as he never had the appetite nor desire for combat. Instead, he often chose to fight on a far deeper level, one that most people never recognized. These two country girls were not much of a challenge, but he dove in regardless, hoping one day to return to Rexterra, where real tests awaited.

  “Perhaps they discuss what a sight I am, so dirty and uncivilized, my robes stained with salt, sand, and sea. Or maybe they laugh at how my hair blows in the wind, shielding my eyes from their loveliness. Mayhap they notice my heart fluttering, waiting for one soft smile to escape their pretty lips.”

  As he spoke in slow, simple Common, none of his words were lost to their ears, and before he had finished, a broad, gap-toothed smile spread across Talia’s face, although Louissia was another matter entirely. He noticed then the tears in her eyes and the scowl across her plain features.

  “Have I caused you some distress, my lady Louissia?”

  She looked at the ground, battered sandals tight against her wide feet, her hair full and tangled from the strong wind that had suddenly increased. A slight blush tinted her cheeks, the color adding a pleasantness to her normally plain features.

  Speaking in Common now, she answered softly, “No, you have done me no wrong. I have only just realized that your friend has no interest in me, as his heart lies elsewhere. And, truly, we must leave. Talia’s father might begin to suspect something if we are not home shortly.”

  Pietro had no desire to rouse Talia’s father’s suspicions, remembering quite clearly what had happened the last time he had found him with his daughter. And he did suppose that he himself needed to get back to the Academy soon to finish an ointment that would be tested on the morrow. With an exaggerated sigh, Pietro rose from the blanket, bowing to both girls with a sweeping hand spread out before him, wondering what Kennet had done.

  “I’m afraid that your cousin speaks the truth, my dear, and we all must be departing soon. Yet, what is this I hear about Kennet? Have you misunderstood him? Maybe I shouldn’t be telling you this, but he talked of nothing else but you all morning. What exactly did he say that has upset you so?”

  Talia clumsily stood up, swaying as she rose until Pietro steadied her with an embrace around her waist.

  She smiled before stating, “Pietro, you must forgive my cousin. She knows next to nothing about men. Why I wouldn’t be surprised if she hadn’t scared him off!”

  Louissia exclaimed, “Who exactly is Bronwen? When I tried to get him to talk about her, just like you asked, he pushed me away. But he did mention that she has been quite ill, missing her classes and the like. Now, I might be just a simple country girl, but I know what that kind of sickness means. And when I asked Kennet if he might be the father, he nearly choked! Is that what you wished for me to find out?”

  Talia interrupted, giggling, “I think I need to lie down for a moment,” before collapsing back onto the blanket.

  “My sweet, just rest your pretty head for a moment while I talk to your cousin here,” he whispered, then turned to face Louissia, his features sharpening with growing anger.

  “You need to tell me exactly what was said between the two of you, Louissia. And for your sake, you had better not leave anything out.”

  “I will tell you what you want to know, but first you must answer me, Pietro. Who is Bronwen, and what does she mean to Kennet?” she asked unflinchingly.

  Pietro stepped forward, closed the gap between them, reached his smooth hands toward Louissia, and gripped her forcibly by the shoulders, pushing her backward until she stumbled and fell to the sand. He again stepped toward her, kneeling down in the sand, uncaring if Talia noticed what he did. Louissia stilled, eyes locked with Pietro’s until she noticed the fury in them, and then she looked in the direction of Talia, hoping that she would intervene on her behalf. Louissia’s heart dropped when she noticed that the strong wine must have caught up with her cousin, who lay dozing on the dirtied blanket, discarded food scattered beside her. Before she could think what to do next, Pietro was on top of her, pinning her down, sinking her body further into the soft sand.

  She had thought to scream, yet quieted when Pietro addressed her.

  “How dare you simple fool of a girl think to question me? Is this what my silver has bought me? A half-brained cow who cannot complete a simple task? You shall never see my coin until you have told me everything, and maybe not even then. I would strike you now, yet I stay my hand. Why do you think that is, Louissia?”

  Fear driving out the last of her courage, Louissia could only shake her head, uncertain and afraid of saying the wrong thing.

  “Of course you would not know. But I shall tell you anyway. It is because I still need you, Louissia. And what would Kennet and Talia say if I returned you home with a blackened face? I have invested enough time already in this matter, and Kennet does have some attachment to you, or you can be certain that I would have found another, more able, wench to take your place. Now you will listen to me and heed this warning. We both are running out of time, either you find me what I need to know, or a few silver coins will not be the only thing that you are missing. How marriageable will you be, my dear, without those nice teeth of yours?”

  Pietro rolled off of her, yet remained seated next to her, close enough that Louissia waited to breathe.

  “Explain to me, leaving nothing out, no matter how small a detail it may be, what the two of you talked about. And, Louissia, believe me when I say that I will know if you are lying.”

  Louissia, even in her startled state, was quickly beginning to understand why many local Tretorians looked with disdain upon the Academy and the healers themselves. Never had she felt so ugly and small as when Pietro had stared upon her with his perfect Rexterran profile. But such beauty hid what was underneath, a fact that scared Louissia even more.

  As the two glanced toward th
e blanket, Louissia tried to explain what she and Kennet had discussed, leaving out nothing, despite the blush that crossed her face at times as she remembered Kennet’s words. As the midday sun crossed the sky, a few dark clouds could be seen developing over the sea, indicating rain would be upon them soon. Still Talia slept, unaware of the discussion beside her, deaf to Pietro’s thunderous voice as he chastised Louissia for her failure.

  But, he knew that Kennet would never fully trust him, nor would he ever discuss Bronwen with him, and the woman blathering next to him was the closest he would get. In the end, he decided that perhaps she was frightened enough now that she would put aside her own jealous feelings and concentrate on how she would spend the silver after completing her job. While she was not as dull-witted as her cousin, Louissia was still a woman, Pietro thought, and he hated that he needed her so, absentmindedly rubbing the palm of his right hand, the scar there a reminder of his own failure.

  After his mysterious visit in the garden, he had tried to search Bronwen’s rooms, not knowing how heavily magicked her door was, surprised that even his early training with the Royal Magery did nothing to protect himself from the ward. As he had placed his palm to the center of the door, a slight tingling crept up his wrist, burning its way up his arm until he finally dropped his hand to his side. His second attempt was even less successful as he tried to undo the warding with his limited knowledge of casting spells, ending with a throbbing head. Pietro’s last attempt had caused the burn on his hand, as he had sought to power through the door without undoing the ward at all, instead trying to focus his small energy into forcing the door to open. As his hands pushed at the wooden door, power circling beneath them, the ward-spell deepened, striking back at Pietro’s inferior magic until he dropped to the ground, cradling his hands in his lap.

  While the pain faded, with the help of milk of the poppy, and his burns began to heal, Pietro had time to decide upon a new approach, as his hatred for Bronwen had not lessened. Several days later Pietro had spotted Bronwen with Kennet as the two walked to the library, deep in a whispered conversation, and it was then that Pietro knew that Kennet was the only way to find the truth that the dark visitor had used to tease him. And as luck would have it, that very night he had met Talia and her recently arrived cousin at The Gull House, deciding then that Louissia could be the perfect ruse. He had been right that Kennet had shown a quick interest in her, yet now Pietro had much more to fix.