The Chosen

by K. J. Nessly

  “Talk about what?” David pushed.

  “Random topics.” She figured that her family, her past, war, and the other myriad of topics they had covered during their whirlwind conversation counted as random. “I think he was lonely and just wanted someone to talk to.”

  “So you just sat around and listened to him talk your ear off?”

  She sighed. “Are you going to stand here and argue with me or was there a reason you tracked me down?”

  He raised an eyebrow at her. It was blatantly obvious that he wanted to continue his interrogation, but she put some ice into her eyes and he backed down. “The rest of us are going into the village, Natalie wanted to know if you wanted to come too.”

  Kathryn looked back at the waterfall, then, realizing she had already found her peace, turned back to David and said, “Sure.”

  He looked genuinely surprised. “Really?”

  “Why not?”

  “You never have before.”

  “So I can’t now?” she quirked an eyebrow at him.

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  They left the falls and walked back by the way of the meadow without commenting anymore about Elyon.

  Natalie talked the entire way to the village, reminding David about his promise to stay the entire day. Kathryn thought David looked like he regretted making that promise, but wisely didn’t comment. Immediately upon entering the village, Natalie and the rest of the girls headed toward the marketplace. Kathryn had no desire to see the market. Instead she wandered the streets aimlessly until she found herself standing before the village poorhouse.

  She could hear children crying and the sound drew her to the source inside. Once her eyes adjusted to the dark interior she could make out about twenty children sitting on cots or scattered on the floor. Several bassinets stood nearby, their tiny occupants sleeping despite the clamor inside.

  “We don’t got no room for any others!”

  Kathryn turned at the harsh voice and found herself face to face with the elderly matron in charge of the children. “I’m not here to drop anyone off,” she quietly reassured the woman, “I’m here to help.”

  “Elp?” the old woman scoffed. “An why would the likes of you elp dis brood not worth a bordar’s spittle?”

  Kathryn, a little taken back looked around. “Surely not all these children were unwanted by their parents,” she exclaimed quietly.

  The matron nodded to a small girl curled on a cot at the far end of the room, “That ‘un there, Pa beat ‘er ‘cause she weren’t a boy,” she nodded to twin boys at the far end of the room, “those were numbers nine and ten. Their pa decided he couldn’t wait till they were biggen enough to till the ground. Ten is to many mouths to feed.” She turned a sorrowful eye towards Kathryn, “most here got the same story—nobody wants em til they big enough to do a days work--then they want em.”

  Kathryn moved slowly to where the small girl cowered on the bed. Gently she sat down and looked into the frightened child’s eyes. “Hello,” she said softly. She avoided staring at the child’s numerous scars that were visible all over her small body; scars that, until that morning, were similar to the very ones Kathryn had carried.

  The child looked at her, but didn’t make a move to answer her.

  “My name’s Caterina, do you have a name?”

  The little girl nodded slowly.

  Kathryn grinned. “Shall I try to guess it?” When the little girl nodded again, Kathryn pretended to think a moment, and then asked, “Is your name Evelyn?” As the little girl shook her head, Kathryn said, “Hmm…is it Elise?”

  A tiny glimmer of a smile made its way to the corner of the child’s eyes. “Is it Magda? No? How about Gertrude? Wrong again? What about Marlee?”

  The little girl let out a soft giggle. “Dawn.”

  Kathryn smiled. “That’s a very pretty name.”

  “Mum named me after her happy time of day,” the little girl told her proudly.

  “Where is your mother?”

  Casting her eyes to the floor she pursed her lips. “She died. Taken in the great sickness—last year,” Dawn told her quietly. “After she gone, pa don’t want me round no more.”

  “Do you like to play games?” Kathryn asked quickly, trying to distract the little girl.

  “Mum made me a doll when I was this many,” she indicated by holding up three fingers. “Her name’s Starla.”

  “That’s a very interesting name,” Kathryn said quietly. “Did you pick it for any special reason?”

  Dawn nodded seriously. “I like stars, mum said it was a good name.”

  “It is a good name,” Kathryn told her. “Can I meet Starla?”

  Dawn hesitated for less than a second. “She’s sleeping, but she’s napped enough.” She hopped down from the bed and hurried into a back room.

  “Well now,” the matron huffed behind Kathryn. “You ne’er told me you was a miracle worker.”

  Kathryn looked up at her in surprise. “What do you mean?”

  “Tha’ little en ain’t spoken a word since she showed last year. Thought her a mute, I did.”

  “Do you know how old she is?”

  “Her pa said she was four, but who knows.” The matron shrugged as she walked away.

  Kathryn couldn’t stop from drawing similarities between Dawn and herself. Five, maybe six years old, abused by authority figures, and silent.

  Dawn came hurrying back, carrying a well-worn doll. “Dis is Starla,” she announced as she crawled into Kathryn’s lap.

  Kathryn stayed at the orphanage for the rest of the day, spending time with the children. It wasn’t often someone visited the orphanage and the children welcomed her presence. The girls invited her to play dolls and the boys asked her to judge their running games.

  Later in the evening, as the sun sunk below the horizon Kathryn and Dawn sat on the steps outside and watched the greater light slowly disappear.

  “Do you still hurt?” Dawn asked suddenly.

  Startled, Kathryn looked down at the little girl who sat comfortably in her lap. “What do you mean?”

  “Where dey hit you,” the little girl said. “Does it still hurt? Mine do.”

  “What makes you think I was hit as a little girl?” Kathryn asked quietly.

  “I watched your face when you said ello to me. You saw me scars but didn’t stare or say I was bad like errbody else.” The little girl sat up straighter, “When you said ello, your eyes said I know—I hurt too.”

  It’s funny how the ones discarded by society end up learning the most about it. I didn’t even need to say anything, but she knew. She smiled down at the expectant little girl. “No, they don’t hurt anymore. Although up until a few days ago they did.”

  Tears filled the little girl’s eyes. “Will mine ever stop hurting?”

  Kathryn closed her eyes and hugged her close. How often had she felt like Dawn after she had first been rescued? She had lost count. When the hurt had refused to leave, Kathryn had buried it deep, refusing to acknowledge it. Recent experience had only just vividly shown her that that hadn’t been the right solution. “I don’t know, Dawn. I hope so.”

  Eventually David caught sight of the orphanage. When he and the others had started getting ready to leave, he had been surprised to learn that no one knew where Kathryn was. It was only after Jenna had mentioned seeing an orphanage that David knew where to find his second-in-command. His heart turned over at the sight of Kathryn still holding a little girl in her arms. He approached slowly, not wanting to be heard nor wanting to disturb them.

  The little girl was sniffling, big tears rolling down her cheeks. Kathryn held her close to her chest like a mother would hold her child. He stood in the shadows, watching and waiting. He had never seen such tenderness from Kathryn and it surprised him.

  After a while the little girl quieted and grew still, David guessed she had fallen asleep, but Kathryn refused to let go.

  Slowly David approached, but for once Kathryn’s train
ing seemed to be pushed aside for she startled when he sat down beside her.

  “Who is she?” he asked softly.

  “Her name is Dawn,” Kathryn replied softly. “She’s almost six years old.”

  David didn’t know what to say. Looking down he got a closer look at the scars that covered the little girl’s body. Some leapt over her legs like flames; others were rounded and thin like a rod. Beneath the scars her skin was purple and yellow tinted from the bruises. Her arms resembled her legs and on the left side of her face a jagged scar ran from above her eyebrow to below her neck.

  Carefully David brushed back the flame colored hair that had fallen across the little girl’s face, it was dirty and matted like it was rarely washed. He also noticed that her bottom lip had a scar and the top looked like it had been split multiple times.

  “Who could do this to an innocent child?” he asked in disgust. Then, realizing that Kathryn had probably borne similar marks when she had been rescued, tried to send her an apologetic look.

  Her eyes were trained on the setting sun, but the absent look in them told him that she was looking into the past. Finally, she broke herself away from the memories and refocused on him. “It was her father,” she explained quietly. “He wanted a boy and got a girl so he took his frustration out on her.”

  They sat there for several minutes; both studying Dawn until an older woman came out and told Kathryn that Dawn needed to come inside with her.

  Hesitantly Kathryn surrendered the child and the woman thanked her before carrying the still sleeping girl inside.

  For a long time Kathryn was still, not moving, just staring directly in front of her.

  Finally David stood and held out his hand to Kathryn. “Come on. The rest of us are ready to go.”

  Kathryn nodded, but stood on her own. “I’m coming back tomorrow.”

  He faced her. “Is that wise?” he asked slowly. “You still struggle with your own past, should you get involved with another abused child?”

  “Dawn knew I was abused before I even mentioned it. I’ll help her through her grief, and she can help me through mine.”

  For the next six weeks, on her days off, Kathryn visited the orphanage and spent time with the children. According to the matron, they so looked forward to her visits that they would constantly ask if it was Lumbar yet, even if it was only Ambar.

  The days fell into a routine. Early in the morning she and the girls would play with dolls, have tea parties, and play house. After a small lunch, everyone would pile outside to watch, and judge, the various races the boys held.

  Playing with dolls was a completely new experience for the Guardian. Growing up, she’d never been allowed to touch one and she struggled to play along with some of the girls’ stories. But the children were patient and enjoying teaching her how to play ‘pretend’. After a few weeks, Kathryn discovered that she could slip into a different character easily. She enjoyed creating new obstacle courses and games for the boys to play and the children loved running them.

  Except for that first night, David didn’t try to talk her out of going to the orphanage again. He understood what many of the others didn’t. Kathryn was using her time with the children to make up for her nonexistent childhood. No one else accompanied her, which was fine with Kathryn. The children were pleasant enough company. Besides, she would never have had so much fun if one of the Dragons was around to keep her company.

  Destiny was always nearby, soaring high above or roosting on the tops of roofs.

  Everything was perfect until one Lumbar evening when a voice called out to her just as she was leaving, “Lady Kathryn, what in the kingdom’s name are you doing here?”

  Startled, Kathryn turned and caught sight of four fully armored knights, their leader none other than Lord Tanner.

  Chapter 33

  While Kathryn executed a curtsy, Lord Tanner swung down from his horse. “Good evening, Lord Tanner.”

  “I must say,” Lord Tanner exclaimed as he approached. “This is the last place I would have expected to see you.” He eyed her clothing. “Not exactly dressed for a ball are you?”

  Kathryn knew very well what she must look like. Her simple gray and brown dress was splattered at the hem with mud and grass, her hands were filthy and her hair was beginning to escape its bun. At least she was wearing a dress today instead of the tunic and leggings she preferred around the glade. “Forgive my appearance, Lord Tanner,” she apologized. “I did not expect to run into any of our class here.”

  “What were you expecting to run into here?”

  Kathryn forced herself to remain civil. What is it with people needed to know my business? She waved her hand at the orphanage. “I’m spending time with the orphans in the various villages,” she replied. “I’ve found that court attire intimidates the children and since my goal is to draw them out I’ve traded my ball gowns for more practical clothing.”

  Surprise followed by suspicion flickered in his eyes. “And why would a gentlewoman, such as yourself, be interested in orphans?”

  “I presume you know I was adopted as Dowager Princess Jasmine’s ward?” Kathryn raised her eyebrows, forcing herself to play the part of a courtly lady when every survival instinct she had was screaming at her to run.

  “Of course. As such I cannot help but wonder if she sent you here to spy on me.”

  Spy on him? Of all the stupid, self-centered, moronic— “I assure you, milord. I was not sent here by Princess Jasmine. Before I was adopted by her I was an orphan myself.” She nodded to the orphanage, still barely visible in the waning light. “I find it brings the children, as well as myself, some comfort to spend time there.”

  A cold smile spread across Lord Tanner’s face. “A likely story,” he said coldly. “But not one I’m likely to believe.”

  Kathryn raised her eyebrows at him. “Well I’m sorry I can’t offer you another you might more readily believe. I’m afraid the children drained my supply of stories earlier today.”

  She moved to leave but Lord Tanner blocked her path. “Really, Lord Tanner,” she exclaimed, her anger rising. “It is late and the children have exhausted me.”

  “Where are you staying?”

  Who does this troglodyte think he is? “I’m not comfortable having you know,” she informed him, knowing it was one hundred percent the truth.

  “Are you staying in the village?”

  If I just say yes maybe he’ll leave me alone. “Yes.”

  His face clouded. “There’s only one inn in this village and it’s not worthy of cattle. You will lodge with me in the governor’s castle.”

  “That is hardly necessary,” Kathryn protested. There was no way she was going to willingly spend a radian, let alone the night, in his residence…especially with Lord Merlae presently at court. “Besides, it would take a whole day’s ride to reach the governor’s castle.”

  With reflexes that startled her, Lord Tanner reached out and grabbed her arm and began pulling her towards his horse. “No, I insist.”

  “Unhand me!” she ordered, struggling. If only I wasn’t supposed to be playing the part of a noblewoman, she thought in disgust.

  He ignored her protests and kept on. He’s much stronger than he looks, she realized, I couldn’t break his hold easily even if I was utilizing my training as a Guardian instead of acting like a lady.

  Lord Tanner lifted her, still struggling, onto his horse and quickly mounted afterwards. As soon as he settled into the saddle, they were off at a steady gallop with the village and the forest slowly shrinking into a tiny speck.

  They rode through the night and most of the day before the surreal reality that she was being kidnapped dawned on Kathryn. They stopped for a meal in the middle of a barren plain with nothing but grass covered hills for as far as the eye could see. Now that they were outside the range of prying eyes, Tanner had ordered Kathryn’s hands tightly bound and kept the strongest of his two men nearby to prevent her escape. After a radian of rest, Lord Tanner gave the
order to remount and the rode well into the night until lights of a castle began to distinguish themselves from the numerous stars that dotted the night sky.

  As they clattered into the courtyard, Kathryn could hear the sound of a closing portcullis and drawbridge. Blast, she thought, he has a moat. That complicates things. Knowing the kind of person Lord Tanner was, he’d probably had the moat equipped with sharp spikes and ropes attached to hooks, intended to grab hold and drown its victims, hidden just below the surface lurking in his moat. It would make escape difficult, especially if she had to swim a moat filled with unknown obstacles. Of course, she could always try walking on the putrid water. She hadn’t tried that before— but definitely better than being immersed in it, she mused. Although the threat of becoming impaled on a spike or caught in a net of fish hooks probably wasn’t the best incentive for trying a brand new technique…or was it?

  Just before he dismounted, Tanner surreptitiously sliced through her restraints, then, as if to preserve his façade of chivalry, he offered Kathryn his hand.

  She glared at him. “I do not appreciate being kidnapped,” she informed him icily.

  He chuckled. “Come now, Lady Kathryn. I haven’t kidnapped you, I’ve rescued you!” He pulled her off his horse.

  Righting herself, she yanked her arm from his. “You’ve saved me from what exactly, Lord Tanner?”

  “From having to spend the night in a beastly inn,” he exclaimed “Instead you can warm yourself by my fire, dine on my fine food, and sleep in a soft bed without worry of rats, sucking bugs and insects, and whatever vermin patronizes those hovels.”

  “I would rather have the inn,” she informed him coldly.

  “Now I know you’re a little upset with me,” he said in a calming tone as two serving ladies approached. “But you are overreacting and have no right—

  “You know I have every right to be angry at you!” she exclaimed angrily.