by Jane Shoup
“So?” Fin asked Ammey. “Are you going to tell us?”
She owed them the truth and they obviously wanted to know. “Why don’t you tell me your stories,” she hedged.
“Then you’ll tell yours?” Fin asked.
“I owe you that,” she reluctantly agreed.
“Good,” Fin said. “I’ll tell everyone’s. Starting with the resident poet, here.”
Samuel extended his hands magnanimously.
“Samuel is married.”
“I am married,” Samuel echoed. “And my wife is mean. Fortunately, I’ve always been attracted to mean women,” he concluded cheerfully. “So, it’s alright.”
“You probably wouldn’t know what to do with yourself if you were married to someone sweet and lovely like Ammey here,” Darius said.
“I’d be lost,” Samuel agreed.
“Garid is married and has two sons,” Fin continued.
The smile that played on Garid’s lips gave away the pride and love he felt at the mention of his family.
“How old are your sons?” Ammey asked.
“Seven and nearly ten,” he replied. “They’re good boys. They fight, but—”
“As if we didn’t,” Jansen spoke up. For once, the brothers smiled affectionately at one another.
“Jansen has a lovely wife and daughter,” Fin said
“My Genevieve is fourteen,” Jansen said to Ammey, “and looks like her mother.”
“Luckily for her,” Lott teased.
Jansen didn’t seem to mind the teasing.
“I have goats,” Peter John spoke up. “Great, wooly goats that give sweet milk.” He sighed. “I miss them.”
“Our village is small,” Fin continued. “Quiet, peaceful. Anything else to tell?” Fin asked, looking around.
“We all farm,” Darius added with a shrug.
“We all drink,” Peter John said, raising his flask.
It grew quiet and they all looked at Ammey expectantly.
“Well, if that’s your idea of a story,” she said, “This will be easy. I don’t have a husband, children or goats.”
Lott slapped his leg and laughed heartily.
“And,” Ammey added, “I’ve done little farming. I did help with the planting last spring in Daleog.”
“Daleog?” Darius asked.
She nodded.
“So when were you in Bellux-Abry?” Garid asked.
“In the summer.”
“This past summer?”
“Yes.”
“Bellux-Abry is a long way from Stonewater Forge,” Jansen said suspiciously.
She peered into the fire. “Yes, it is.”
“Are you really Ammey McKeaf?” Samuel blurted.
She looked at him. “Yes.”
“Because you’ll be in a lot of trouble if you say you are and you aren’t. We might, as well.”
“I am who I say I am. I swear it.”
“When did you leave home?” Garid asked.
“Early spring.”
“Why?” Garid asked.
“There had been attacks near us. My father was worried about keeping me safe, so I was escorted to Wydenyl.”
“Wydenyl,” Lott exclaimed.
“Wydenyl was attacked,” Jansen challenged. “Burned down.”
She nodded. “It was happening as we arrived. The men who were escorting me were killed there.”
“Go on,” Garid encouraged.
She tried, but the enormity of her experience stymied her. It would take hours to adequately explain everything.
“Are you alright, Ammey?” Peter John asked tenderly.
“I …I’ve been so caught up in everything that’s happened, I never really thought about how—”
“What?” Garid prodded when her voice trailed off.
She hesitated. “How it sounds. How strange it all is. I mean, I knew it was strange when it was happening, but there was one thing and then another and …then another.”
“Why not just have out with it?” Peter John suggested. “Blurt it right out like a great, long belch. As hard and fast as you can.”
Despite the chuckling and remarks of the others, she saw the wisdom of the suggestion. “You’ve heard of Forzenay’s Five?” she began.
“Of course,” several of them replied.
“The Five were in Wydenyl. They’d come to warn the villagers of the attack.” She paused. “They rescued me.”
“The most famous assassins in the world rescued you?” Jansen repeated. “This story just gets better and better.”
“Shut it, Jansen,” Lott snapped. He looked back to Ammey and his expression softened. “Go on, Ammey.”
She just needed to have out with it. Fast. “The Five insisted I stay with them, so we went to Draven, where we assassinated a group of Corin’s men. Then I returned with one of the Five to his home in Daleog, because he’d been injured, but the village was attacked by more of Corin’s men and I was taken hostage along with many others and taken to Bellux-Abry.”
No one spoke. Or moved. No one even drank.
“Whoa,” Lott said.
“And you somehow got free?” Samuel asked slowly.
“Yes.” Everything was such a long, involved story. Why did she bother? They did not believe her and she hadn’t even told them half of what had happened. And would she have believed someone else telling this tale had the situation been reversed? It sounded like a wildly constructed tale. “They know who I am in Daleog,” she added weakly.
“We aren’t going into Daleog,” Jansen spoke up.
“We are now,” Garid stated grimly.
Everyone looked at him.
“If she’s telling the truth,” he said, “you hear how fantastic it is. Which does not mean it is not the truth,” he added consolingly, directing it to Ammey.
“You lost me,” Lott said.
“Her story is not going to get less fantastic. We may need verification even to be allowed into the camp at Stonewater Forge. If the villagers of Daleog can verify any of what she’s said, that goes a long way. But if not,” he said soberly, looking directly at Ammey, “you must agree to wait there for us. You will not go on to the Forge.”
“Agreed,” she said without hesitation.
Her instant agreement took them all by surprise.
“Agreed, then,” Garid echoed. “Good.”
Peter John offered a flask to her and she took it and drank. It wasn’t tasty, but it was strong and that suddenly appealed.
“Do you want to hear more about my goats now?” Peter John asked.
“I do,” she laughingly replied. “Every last one of them.”
~~~
They filed out of the cave the next morning, stiff from the cramped quarters. The last two to leave the cave were Ammey and Fin. It made for an uncomfortable moment since he’d slept next to her and had slipped an arm around her during the night. The warmth had been welcome, but it had left a residual feeling of intimacy. She knew he felt an attraction to her. She wasn’t looking forward to it, but she had to let him know she was not open to it. He asked for a moment and, although she was anxious to go, it was better to have this over with.
“Sometimes in life,” he began, “you can desire one thing and move toward it, but along the way you can decide you want something else.”
“That’s true.”
“Keved is a good place with good people. We have fertile soil and the mountains protect us from harsh north winds. It’s a good place.”
“I appreciate what you’re saying,” she replied carefully.
“What I’m offering,” he corrected.
“Fin, I am who I say I am.”
Fin considered her without comment for a moment and then gave a brief nod, giving up for the present. She doubted it would be the last time he brought it up.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Ianthe was lost in thought as she kneaded dough, but the sound of Ammey’s name being shouted snapped her from her reverie. She grabbed a clot
h and wiped her hands as she went to the door to see what was happening. For a moment, she could only blink in disbelief at the sight of Ammey being led in on the back of a mule. She looked frail, but it was her. Ianthe tossed the cloth aside and hurried out.
The men of Keved were shocked to hear Ammey’s name called over and over. Not only that, but she was being hailed as a hero. Villagers pushed in on them, reaching for her and talking excitedly.
“Are you well?” a woman called.
“Did he set you free?”
“—so glad you’re safe!”
A young woman with a baby in her arms was crying.
“Stop, please,” Ammey called to Peter John. He halted the mule at once and helped Ammey down.
The woman with the baby embraced Ammey. “Alea was safe,” she gushed. “You were right. Ianthe cared for her. And Cyrus survived. He survived!”
Ammey embraced her. “Oh, Kira. I am so happy to hear it.”
“Who are you?” a woman asked Darius with an awed expression. “Did you rescue Ammey?”
“We’re from Keved. On our way to Stonewater Forge. We came upon her is all.”
“Ammey,” Ianthe cried, finally reaching her. They threw their arms around one another, both of them crying. When they pulled apart, Ianthe kept her hands on Ammey’s shoulders. “Are you ill?” she asked worriedly.
“No, I’m worn out from travel and I hurt my ankle again.”
“I can hardly believe I’m looking at you,” Ianthe marveled.
“What happened with Corin?” someone called.
“How’s your arm?” someone else asked.
“Here,” Ianthe said. “Lean on me.”
Ammey accepted the assistance and they made their way forward with the crowd. “Where’s Liani?” Ammey asked.
“Off somewhere, as usual. But she’s fine.”
“And Catherin?” Ammey asked hopefully.
Ianthe’s smile dimmed and she shook her head. “Sold.”
Ammey felt her heart plunge.
Ianthe gave her a gentle squeeze. “It happened before they reached the city. Kira said the family seemed genuinely interested in her. Even kind. Perhaps she was adopted and treated as a daughter. That’s what I like to think.”
A tear rolled down Ammey’s face and she quickly wiped it away. “What about Flynn? How is he? Where is he?”
“He’s with the others.” She paused. “They came looking for you.”
Ammey grabbed a breath and clenched a fist to her chest.
“I’ll tell you everything later,” Ianthe promised quietly as the throng gravitated into the shelter.
Food and drinks were quickly produced. “What was that about your arm?” Garid asked Ammey from his place across from her.
“There is a lot to tell, still,” she admitted.
“I gathered that,” he replied warily.
“Your ankle is still hurt?” Nasim asked as he approached from behind.
“Nasim,” Ammey cried. He’d grown since she’d last seen him. He seemed to feel awkward as he leaned into a quick embrace. “No. It healed, but I twisted it again.”
“So,” Athalia spoke up as she sat next to Garid. “I didn’t get your names.”
“I’m Garid Lourd of Keved, and these are my kinsmen.”
“And how did you come by our friend?”
“Fate, I think,” Garid replied, exchanging a meaningful look with Ammey, who nodded in agreement.
Athalia turned her attention to Ammey. “Did Corin set you free?”
Ammey noticed the men of Keved react with surprise and alarm. “No, something happened and I … got away.”
“Perhaps,” Garid said, “someone could explain what happened when Ammey was last here.”
“We’re happy to,” Ianthe replied. “Perhaps I should start, since she saved my life and my daughter’s.”
“And mine,” Kira spoke up.
Ammey noticed Cyrus standing by Kira’s side. “We’re all grateful to her,” he said. “More than we could ever say.” He gave her a nod and she returned it, choked with emotion that was barely under control.
“So, I’ll begin,” Ianthe said. She paused a moment to think of how best to explain. “It was mid-day when I heard screaming.”
~~~
Ammey had bathed, changed into fresh clothing, and enjoyed a quiet supper with Ianthe and Liani. Now, she sat with Ianthe savoring the last of her tea as she listened to what happened after the attack. They’d waited until Liani was asleep to delve into the discussion.
“The Five left here to seek the Seidhkona’s counsel. Vincent, as you can probably imagine, wanted to go after you.”
Ammey bit the inside of her lip as she swirled the tea leaves swirl around the bottom of her cup.
“He and Forzenay had words, but Vincent finally agreed to go into Vilhae.” She paused. “Milainah told them not to pursue you. She claimed you had a vital role to fill.”
Ammey nodded, but didn’t look up.
“What happened in Bellux-Abry?”
“Many things,” Ammey said, without looking up. “Not the least of which was that Marko Corin made me his wife.”
Ianthe gasped.
Reluctantly, Ammey met Ianthe’s horrified gaze. This was the reaction she was likely to face time and time again. “He doesn’t know who I am. I told him my name was Jade and he thought I was from here.”
“Since when does a king marry a commoner?”
“I asked him that once. When he was weaving an explanation for how we met.”
“What? What do you mean?”
“It’s a long story.”
“I want to hear it. Every bit of it. It’s just so … terrible.”
Ammey shook her head. “It wasn’t, He was kind to me.”
“Kind? They said he tortured you.”
“Oh, at first, he was cruel. No. Cruel isn’t the right word. You see, I’d made him angry. I hated him, so I was defiant. He was trying to break my defiance. That’s what they saw. But he grew to be kind.”
“How does someone grow to be kind? A man is what he is and Corin is a monster!”
Ammey shook her head again. “He’s not,” she rejoined. “I thought he was, at first. But he’s not.” She paused, wondering how to explain. “You were told about the marking.”
“Yes. I am so sorry.”
“It was an ordeal,” she admitted. “And now it’s something I have to live with for the rest of—” Her voice broke and she had to wait a moment before continuing. “But he was sorry for it. Even while it was happening. Afterwards, he kept trying to win me over. To care for me.” She paused. “I wouldn’t let him, but I stopped hating him along the way. I didn’t mean to. I just did.”
“That was the vital role, wasn’t it? The role you had to play that no one else could and no one could interfere with. Marko Corin’s wife.”
Ammey nodded.
Ianthe grabbed hold of her hand. “Is that how you’ve endured everything?”
“In part, yes. But it’s not as if I had a great many choices.”
“What was that about Corin weaving a tale about how you met?”
“Marko’s chief advisor despised me. He resented that Marko was changing. This man, Zephyr, had every intention of torturing me to death, but Marko found out in time and rescued me. I was hurt though. When I recovered, I pretended to have lost my memory.”
“Why?”
“I feared Zephyr knew who I was. I thought if I’d lost my memory, he would have no reason to question me further. Marko had promised to keep me safe, but—”
“But he hadn’t.”
Ammey shook her head. “No. He hadn’t. He did believe I’d lost my memory, so he made up a story. He claimed we were happily married. I think he even started to believe it.”
“So he only claimed you were married. You weren’t actually married.”
“We lived as if we were,” Ammey admitted. “But all the while, he was reforming. Things were getting better. He was working t
oward peace.”
“How did you get away?”
“Zephyr had me abducted a second time.”
“You cannot mean it!”
Ammey nodded with a grim expression. “I was supposed to be killed, but I got away from the men who took me and I’ve been working my way back home ever since.” She rose and walked to the hearth. She was exhausted of explanations. She crossed her arms and watched the flames.
“You say Corin is reformed,” Ianthe said. “But he is more aggressive than ever.”
Ammey turned back to Ianthe. “He was changing things. Recalling the army. Soldiers were given leave to see their families. Others began working on civic improvements.” She sighed and looked back at the fire. “Where are the Five?”
“Shilbridge. Trying to keep an annexation with Bellux-Abry from happening. It’s what they were tasked with.” Ianthe rose and went to her. “We could get a message to them,” she offered.
Ammey thought about it. “I wouldn’t know what to say and I don’t want to risk anyone.” She looked at Ianthe. “I need to focus on one thing at a time. First, reaching home.”
“You must be so anxious for that,” Ianthe said tenderly.
“I am anxious to see my family,” Ammey replied haltingly. “Less anxious to have them see me.”
“Oh, Ammey. They’ll be so glad to have you back.”
Tears filled Ammey’s eyes.
“They will be thankful to have you home,” Ianthe declared. “It is all they will care about.”
“You don’t know my family. How will I make them understand? What if they cannot?”
Ianthe had no idea what to say. “They will,” she finally said.
~~~
The men from Keved, housed in the guest lodge, were too preoccupied to sleep.
“She’s really Ammey McKeaf,” Lott said, introducing the topic that was on all their minds.
Garid shook his head. “All we’ve confirmed is what happened after she arrived here. The village was attacked and she was taken prisoner with several others and taken to Bellux-Abry. But how do we know she’s truly Ammey McKeaf other than she said so? That’s what the villagers were told.”
“He’s right,” Fin spoke up.
“She was supposedly brought by Ianthe Graybil’s husband,” Jansen said. “But where is he?”