The Girl in the Tower

by Lisa Schroeder

  * * *

  THE WINTER MONTHS were hard on Violet, for the hummingbirds flew south to find warmer temperatures. Like every year since Violet had first met the birds, George, Maggie, and Nuri would help her through the upcoming gloomy season as best they could. She loved playing imaginary games, hearing stories, looking through the art book Maggie had given her, and drawing. They’d keep her as busy as possible.

  George shook his head, stopped walking, and looked around. He told himself to quit daydreaming, for he had work to do. Very soon he needed to gather the buckets of water and take them to the tower so Nuri and Violet could bathe. Maggie was probably there now, delivering their breakfast.

  It would be difficult to see Violet today, George thought, for he knew they had probably seen the last of the birds yesterday, and he needed to give her this news. He should have told her to say good-bye until spring, but he hadn’t had the heart.

  Lost in his thoughts once again, he didn’t see Queen Bogdana coming down the pathway. All of a sudden, she was there, standing in front of him, covered in furs. He couldn’t help but think how unfair it was that she had so much while Nuri and Violet had so very little.

  “Good morning, Queen,” he said as he bowed.

  “I am extremely disappointed I haven’t seen my precious birds for so long,” the queen told him. “Have you spotted them recently?”

  He pointed to a simple sparrow in the tree. “Why, yes, Your Highness. There are plenty of birds in your garden. I wonder, is your eyesight starting to fail?”

  She scowled at George. “You fool, my eyesight is fine. I don’t want to see those birds. I want to see the hummingbirds that cost me a fortune. So I ask you again: Have you seen the dainty birds with colorful feathers?”

  Of course he had, but he’d seen them only in the secret garden. To tell her about them would be to give up Violet’s joyous place and get them all in trouble.

  “My apologies,” George said. “I haven’t seen any hummingbirds in your garden. They must keep themselves very well hidden. But now that the cold temperatures have arrived, I’m afraid they have probably migrated south for the winter. Might be best to wait and look for them in the spring.”

  Queen Bogdana glared at him. George thought he saw a hint of suspicion in her eyes, but he could only hope he was wrong.

  “If I must wait, I shall,” she said, practically snarling. “But next spring, if the birds don’t appear, there will be grave consequences.” She looked at the tower in the distance. “There are two prisoners I have been more than kind to. I’ve put a roof over their heads and have fed them daily for ten years! But I assure you, if I do not get what I want, I will be kind no more.”

  George swallowed hard. “What are you saying, exactly?”

  “I’m saying,” she bellowed, “the girl and her mother will die!” And with that, she turned and stormed toward the castle.

  4

  The birds that had traveled a great distance on a ship to a new land had lived a glorious life in the small garden behind the tower. But it wasn’t the many flowering plants that made it so.

  It was the small girl who visited almost daily.

  They appreciated her joy and her exuberance for life, but most of all, they treasured the way she looked at them—as if she understood them completely and would like nothing better than to be one of them.

  On the ship, the birds had seen the eyes of greed in the men who had hunted them.

  The few times they’d ventured out into the main garden, the birds had seen the eyes of vanity and selfishness in the queen who longed to own them.

  But in the girl, all they saw was understanding, appreciation, and unconditional love.

  As new birds were born and old birds left this earth, love for the girl was passed down, generation to generation. And each new generation of birds was greeted by Violet, who spoke kindly to them, pretended to fly with them, and simply adored them.

  It was now winter, and most of the birds had begun their migration to a warmer climate. However, two hummingbirds, Peace and Pax, both with brilliant green, blue, and golden feathers, had stayed behind. They were especially close to Violet, and they didn’t want to go quite yet. It pained them to think of leaving the girl without any birds to keep her company when she ventured outside.

  It was for that reason that they heard the threat that bleak winter day, when the queen’s loud, sharp words shot across the grounds and into the small garden behind the tower.

  “The girl and her mother will die!”

  They didn’t know if anyone else had heard.

  They didn’t know if anyone else cared.

  But they had heard. And they cared. Very deeply.

  They believed a child’s life depended on them. Never had two creatures felt so impossibly small.

  5

  “Good morning to you,” Maggie called as she unlocked the door of the tower and entered.

  Violet jumped from her pretend ship. “Good morning, Maggie!” She longed to know what they’d be having for breakfast today, but her mother had taught her at an early age to never ask. Maggie was first and foremost their friend.

  “A tad chilly this morning, eh?” Maggie asked. “Are you two holding up all right?”

  “We’re just fine,” Nuri said as she stood. “Please don’t worry about us.”

  “I’ve got a surprise for both of you this morning,” Maggie said. “Two bowls of steaming-hot porridge. With honey!”

  “Glory be!” Violet cried. “Thank you for not bringing stinky old eggs again.”

  “Violet!” Nuri said. “You know better than to complain about Maggie’s delivery for us. Go sit in the corner until I call you to eat.”

  Violet started to protest but stopped, for she knew it was no use. After ten years, she’d never seen her mother back down from a punishment, not once. So she went to the corner and sulked.

  Maggie handed the tray to Nuri, who began setting the food on the table while Maggie carried the chamber pots outside.

  “I hope the porridge helps warm you,” Maggie said upon her return. “I begged the cook to give you some. I told George last night, I don’t know how you two have survived living in this drafty old tower so long. Haven’t got much of anything, the two of you, but you sure do have a hefty dose of determination. More so than I’d have, I do believe.”

  “Well, what choice do we have, really?” Nuri said. “We must hold on until Marko comes back for us.”

  “But it’s been so long, love,” Maggie said softly.

  “He’ll come for us,” Nuri said strongly. “He won’t stop looking until he finds us. There is nothing he wouldn’t do for me.”

  “Like when he saved you from the horrible thief on the beach all those years ago, before I was born?” Violet called from the corner.

  Nuri smiled. “Yes, my dear. Exactly like that. Please come and eat your delicious porridge now. And apologize to Maggie.”

  Violet scurried to the table. “I’m sorry, Mama and Maggie. I will try my best not to complain about the food, including stinky eggs.”

  Nuri stroked her daughter’s head of wavy, long black hair. “Thank you. Now let’s enjoy our breakfast. Eat every drop, for it won’t do us any good later.”

  “I don’t believe I’ve heard the story of the thief,” Maggie said. “Did he carry a weapon?”

  “Yes!” Violet said before Nuri had a chance to respond. “He snuck up behind them, grabbed Mama, and held a knife to her throat. The thief demanded that Papa give him the pouch of coins hanging from his belt.”

  “Oh dear,” Maggie said, looking at Nuri. “What in heaven’s name did you do?”

  Violet took a bite of the warm porridge. It was the best thing she’d tasted in a long time. “Go ahead, Mama. Tell her what happened.”

  “Well,” Nuri said, “I think we were aware that simply handing over the money might mean a death sentence for both of us. After all, why should he leave behind witnesses to his crime? But my husband, he’s a clever fell
ow. He held the pouch out in front of him and told the man to reach and get it. As the thief went to grab for it, he let go of me, and I ducked away as Marko threw the pouch into the ocean. While the thief ran off to retrieve the coins, we escaped unharmed.”

  Violet watched her mother’s face as she remembered that day. Somehow she managed to look happy and sad, all at the same time. Violet knew it was because her mama loved her papa very much and liked remembering him, but she missed him terribly.

  “When you returned to your musical family,” Violet said, wanting to finish the story the proper way, “Papa told them what happened. And then you leaned over, kissed him on the cheek, and said, ‘You are my hero, and I love you.’”

  Violet’s mother smiled. “That I did.” She took a deep breath and looked at Maggie. “And I am certain he will be a hero again. It is the hope I hold on to, like a treasured tambourine, that keeps me going day after day.”

  The three sat in silence, lost in their thoughts, until there was a knock at the door.

  “That will be George,” Maggie said as she went to answer it. “He said he’d be bringing you some bathwater today.”

  As Maggie let her husband into the tower, Violet finished the last bite of her porridge and sprang from her seat. “George, I’m happy you’re here. May we go and see the birds later this afternoon? After I’ve had my bath and found the buried treasure?”

  “Well, good morning to you, too!” He carried two buckets in and dumped the water into the round wooden tub. “The water shouldn’t be too cold, since the buckets sat by the fire all night long. Now, let me get the rest, and then we’ll talk about the birds, eh?”

  Violet nodded. “Aye.”

  When he’d finally finished his work, he turned and knelt down, opening his arms wide. Violet ran into them, happy to get a hug from the man who had given her so much.

  “Did I hear you mention a buried treasure?” he asked Violet as she stepped back. “Must be a pirate in the tower today. Am I right?”

  “Yes, that’s me! We have a map, and soon we’ll reach land so I can begin searching for the gold and coins.”

  “That’s wonderful, darlin’.” He stood up and turned to Nuri as he stroked his crimson beard. “It’s colder than the dickens. Is there anything at all I can do for you?”

  Nuri stood. “It’s cold—that’s for sure. But we’re fine. We’ve got each other, after all.”

  “Can we go this afternoon, George?” Violet asked. “To the garden, to see the birds? Can we? Please?”

  George knelt down again and took Violet’s tiny hands in his rough and callused ones. “Violet, it pains me to tell you this, but I doubt we’ll see any birds today.”

  Violet didn’t have to ask, for she knew what this meant. Still, she asked anyway, just to be sure. “Have they gone for the winter?”

  “I believe so. But like every year, they’ll be back in the spring, lassie, before your birthday’s here. They love you too much to stay away any longer than they have to.”

  She threw her arms around his broad shoulders, blinking back tears. “I will miss them.”

  He stroked her hair and whispered in her ear. “I know you will. And they will miss you, too.” When she finally pulled away, George said, “Now, about that treasure hunt. What do you say we have one in the garden? I will make you a map and give you a hand spade for digging, and you can find something special that I hide in a secret spot.”

  Violet clapped her hands together. “Really? You’ll do that for me?”

  “I will indeed. Of course, I shall need some time to prepare. I know you are anxious, but I think tomorrow would be best for a treasure hunt. Can you wait, pirate Violet?”

  “Aye!” She hopped around on one of her small legs, filled with excitement. “It will be such fun, I know it will be worth the wait.”

  George stood up and put his hands into his coat pockets. “Why, I almost forgot.” He smiled as he pulled out a cloth and proceeded to unwrap it. “I snuck something from the kitchen this morning while the cook wasn’t looking. Cinnamon cookies. Baked just yesterday.”

  Nuri walked over and took the treats from George, as Violet stopped hopping and licked her lips. “How kind,” Nuri said. “I think we’ll save them for after the bath.”

  “Thank you,” Violet said, the delicious smell of cinnamon hanging in the air. “Cookies make me almost as happy as hummingbirds.”

  “I reckon I knew that,” George said.

  Violet and Nuri said good-bye to George and Maggie, who had to get back to their duties, and thanked them again for their kindness.

  “All right, my little princess,” Nuri said once they were alone. “Get undressed and jump into the bath. I’ll go after you.”

  As Violet slipped her clothes off, she said, “Mother, it’s not a bath—it’s the ocean. And I am a mermaid, like the picture in the art book. I will swim around in the sea and sing songs to the sailors.”

  “What song shall you sing?”

  “You shall teach me a new one. Something you sang with my papa. Please?”

  Her mother didn’t sing often. She said the music of her people made her miss them deeply. But once in a while, Violet was able to talk her mother into it.

  “I suppose I could sing for you today,” her mother said. “How about this one?”

  And with that, Nuri began to sing, her voice prettier than any songbird Violet had ever heard.

  We don’t know where we’re going,

  only know where we have been.

  The road we’re on is called Freedom,

  and we’ll walk it again and again.

  She continued on, verse after verse. The song spoke of a wandering life and the love of family, and Violet felt so happy she wished she could climb inside the music and live there.

  “Again. Please?” Violet said when Nuri’s voice went silent. “I want to learn it and sing it with you.”

  Her mother gave a scrap of soap to Violet before she began the song again. And for the next long while, they sang and splashed as the little mermaid swam in the deep blue sea.

  6

  The band of wandering minstrels had been known far and wide for the music they played. In every place they stopped to perform, the village buzzed with excitement right up until showtime.

  Marko had played the lute, while Nuri had played the tambourine. The two had grown up together in the caravan, their parents the best of friends. When Marko had asked for Nuri’s hand in marriage at the age of twenty and she’d accepted, he’d believed they had many wonderful years to look forward to.

  And then, one warm spring day, the dreams he’d had for a happy life were snatched away. At first it seemed almost like a miracle, Nuri giving birth inside the castle. Marko knew she would be well cared for, given food, drink, and a bed to rest upon until she felt strong enough to return to them. But as the days dragged on, it felt like a curse more than a blessing.

  In the nearby village, the minstrels talked of the newborn, placing bets as to whether it would be a boy or a girl. And they waited. They talked of Nuri and what a good mother she would be. And they waited. They remembered happier days, when Nuri and Marko were children, splashing along the shore, and they spoke of returning there with a new child.

  It was agonizing to wait, but wait they did.

  After many days and nights, the moon turned from round and bright to just a thin sliver in the sky, and Marko could bear it no more.

  “It has been too long,” Nuri’s husband told his family and friends. “Something is not right. She should have been here by now.”

  “We shall go for her,” Nuri’s father said.

  “All of us?” Marko asked. “Is that such a good idea?”

  “There is strength in numbers. We shall all go.”

  When they arrived, the guards who stood at the gate told the minstrel group there was neither a commoner nor her infant anywhere in the castle.

  “Please, let me speak to the king,” Marko begged. “He’s the one who invit
ed her inside. Perhaps he knows where she is.”

  They pleaded their case, assuring the guards she had indeed been there, and all they wanted was to be reunited with her and the child once again.

  Finally, one of the guards agreed to speak to the king and see if he had any information for them.

  The king was surprised to hear the news of the missing woman and agreed to go and tell the group what he knew. When he appeared in front of them, wearing a robe of velvet around his shoulders and magnificent gemstone rings on his fingers, the minstrels bowed. The king was a handsome man, with golden locks of hair framing his face and kind green eyes. Again Marko was struck by how trustworthy he looked. That was why he’d agreed to the arrangement and let his wife go into the castle without him.

  “The woman you are seeking went on her way,” the king told them. “Many days ago. If she did not return to you, perhaps she wanted a different life for her and her daughter. I’m very sorry, but there is nothing I can do. She is gone.”

  “A daughter,” Marko exclaimed, taking in the bittersweet news. “I have a daughter. But where in the world is she?”

  “I do not know,” the king said. “You have my sympathies.”

  The king sounded genuine. Besides, Marko thought, what reason did he have to lie? There was nothing to do but go and search for the missing woman and child.

  For years and years, the minstrels looked, but they didn’t find a single clue. It was as if Nuri and the infant had vanished from the face of the earth.

  One spring morning, nine years after Nuri had gone missing, Marko awoke and realized they were camped just a few miles from the castle. He decided to return there alone to see if he could gather any additional information about his wife. Though it was a horrible thought, it was possible the king hadn’t told the truth that day long ago.