Out of the Faold (Whilst Old Legends Fade Synchronicles)

by Laura Abudo

  “But it is nice to have you and the girls with us. You’d think a bunch of soldiers would have no use for children but the men have not complained once.”

  “That’s good. The girls look up to them.”

  “It’s like being home,” he told her. “The men left behind brothers and sisters, their own innocence in many cases. The Captain rides us hard with a lot of discipline but the girls have brought humanity back into the camp. Oh, and you too, Brother Karl.”

  “Thank you.”

  “It is refreshing to encounter folks who aren’t there just to get something out of you,” he said as others returned to the fire to prepare the evening meal. She could imagine at every town people treated them like purses to empty, an envoy of the king that you don’t get close to but which had resources you wanted. She remembered the first time she’d met them on the road, the female giggle in the dark and the wagon with a barrel of ale in the back.

  “We won’t ever ask anything of you,” she told him.

  “That’s not what I meant,” he added apologetically.

  “I know,” she smiled, putting a hand on his forearm.

  He nodded then rose. Pearl sat with her to show her a new long stick she was peeling to make into a walking stick. The wood beneath had a stunning pale smooth surface. She agreed it would be beautiful. Glory was busy brushing the horses with that night’s groomsman and Krisa was on the edge of the camp, half in the shadows of the trees, busy setting out her bedroll. She sometimes disappeared into the dark but was never far. If Karl called for her she always appeared within minutes. She’d asked her once what she was doing and the girl shrugged and said simply, “Just watching.”

  The gods had been listening to Karl’s prayer the other night. Captain Doran took his position at the front of their convoy as the leader and she drove the wagon at the back. When they camped at night he barked orders and secured the site while she helped with food and getting the children settled in. There hadn’t much opportunity for Karl’s will to be tested and she was fine with that. She’d watch his back during the long journey and catch his eye infrequently, as he took his job seriously.

  Morning dawned with a chill in the air. Glory had pushed herself up against Karl in the night so she had to untangle herself from the girl to rise. She found seclusion to relieve herself in the trees then returned with firewood to build the fire back up. Kel rose to help then the rest of the camp yawned and stretched to the smell of breakfast.

  Down the road came a cart, slowly moving toward them. The scouts and Krisa disappeared into the trees as it approached. The man and wife waved as they passed but kept going without word. Within an hour of their journey that day Karl noted that there were more people on the road and the farmhouses were close together, villages more frequent. They passed through, buying fresh bread for the day or vegetables for the stew pot that evening. Captain Doran stopped twice to meet the mayor or local lord as a courtesy. His scribe went with him to the meetings so she was sure he was working.

  A city, Caborn, was within two hours travel, they were told, to everyone’s relief. “Bed,” was a unanimous chant among the girls and they giggled. Brynntown had been bigger than Caborn. The wall around the keep here was made of logs with stone archways. The city itself was more haphazard and less wealthy. Krisa’s eyes were once again flitting from side to side, taking everything in. They passed the Sanctuary but Karl surprised the girls by not turning toward it for lodging. They went, instead, to the inn nearest the Keep. Captain Doran told her he would send a messenger with their plans for departure before he rode off.

  The innkeeper was pleasant but offered to give directions to the Sanctuary. She shook her head and produced coins to show she was prepared to pay him. He finally acquiesced leading them up to a large room with a bed they could all fit in snugly. Pearl bounded to it and rolled all around on the huge bed then called out, “Tucker could fit three whole whores in here.”

  Karl gasped in shock and Glory asked what she meant.

  “Boars,” Karl stated, quickly covering up Pearl’s indiscretion. To Pearl she put her finger to her lips and turned away, hardly able to contain a fit of laughter. Krisa had not reacted but had slipped over to the window to stand watching the people below. Brother Karl moved to her side.

  “What do you think?” she asked her.

  “They are afraid of us, Brother.”

  Karl was startled. She hadn’t seen that in the people of Caborn. She looked out the window and saw nothing unusual. “What makes you say that?”

  “The innkeeper doesn’t want us here. He was looking around to see if his other guests saw us check in. Instead of watching the Marshalls the people studied us, but it was like they’d seen something bad and moved away quickly. The couple in the road earlier too. The Keep has sent guards to watch this inn and one was sent to the Sanctuary as soon as we came here.”

  Brother Karl stared out the window. She didn’t know if she should believe the girl or deem her paranoid. “What about the couple in the road?”

  “It was the woman. She started to smile but when she saw you and Glory and Pearl she dropped her arm and looked ahead. I was in the trees.”

  Karl did see a guardsman across the street, patrolling the walk in front of shops to glance in their direction occasionally. “Maybe they aren’t used to seeing a Brother like me,” she told Krisa, who nodded but wasn’t convinced. “I often have people question me.”

  “It’s the yellow robes, Brother. Not you.”

  They moved from the window to the sound of a knock at the door. A young girl perhaps only two years older than the initiate Sisters stood there in a pale blue plain dress asking if they needed anything, a bath or food. Karl arranged for them to bathe and requested a barber be sent to them. Pearl’s uneven hair was repaired, cutting it shorter into a cute bob that curled around her ears. Glory was pleased. The two girls, though worlds different, had become fast friends. Pearl still shocked Glory with things she’d say or do, but Glory took it upon herself to instruct her in etiquette. Krisa got along with them but was more reserved.

  A messenger was brought to their room by the same girl after their dinner was served. Karl found it odd they were not invited to the dining room but thought it might not be the best place for children. The other patrons seemed decent but there was a large cask and gaming tables.

  The note read:

  Esteemed Brother,

  Rooms have been prepared at the Sanctuary for your party. Brother Fen Hilliard Tooke Bethtown requests your presence to report the progress of your journey.

  It was sealed with the Faold seal in wax. Brother Karl wrote a polite decline stating the girls had already retired for the night and they were leaving at dawn the next morning. She added a valediction, a short prayer wishing them good health, and handed it back to the messenger.

  No other messengers arrived. She expected Captain Amias Doran to communicate their departure plans but none came. By mid-morning the girls were getting restless so she suggested they take a walk but stay fairly close to the inn. The market was full of people, stalls full of fabrics and trinkets, food, knives and tools, anything they could ever need. Karl watched Krisa, who in turn watched everyone else. The girl’s eyes stopped roving only when something peculiar caught her attention but Brother Karl didn’t see anything. Not until she purposefully stood still and looked around as Krisa did. Stall keepers would glance at the girls then turn away or call out to other potential buyers. They watched the girls out of the corner of their eyes until they passed. Guards were stationed around the square. They paid little attention to the girls at all. She noted two Brothers at the entrance to a side street and another two a short distance from where she stood, appearing like guards themselves.

  “It is a pleasant morning, Brother,” a voice said behind her.

  She turned to note a balding Brother in familiar grey robes standing watching her. “It is, Brother,” she said, lowering her own hood.

  “Your note said you were leavin
g early today. I am pleased you are still with us since we didn’t get a chance to talk.”

  “Ah, Brother Fen Bethtown? I was expecting to leave but we were delayed,” she told him.

  “I hope no one is ill.”

  “No, but thank you for your concern.”

  “There is an awful fever sweeping our lands to the north. I trust you’ve heard?”

  “I hadn’t,” she told him with caution. Thoughts flew from her family to the King and then to themselves, as they’d be moving north as soon as she heard from Captain Doran.

  “You have come from the south?” he asked, peering at her.

  “Yes, I’m sorry I didn’t stop to report,” she told him, removing her official papers from inside her robes and placing them into his open hand. “I am guardian to the three girls. We have come from Brynntown and on our way to Mount Sestra where they will study with the Sisters.”

  “They should be lodging with Sisters at the Sanctuary,” he told her sternly.

  “The last time we stopped we did stay with the Sisters but one is afraid of the dark and she caused the Sisters a sleepless night with nightmares,” she lied. She inwardly said a silent prayer of forgiveness for lying to a Brother.

  He looked at her in a manner of trying to decide if she was deceiving him. He read her papers then handed them back, satisfied they were official. “Since you have not left yet we will expect you to stay with us until you do. I’ll have your things brought from the inn. If we have to we will leave a lantern lit the entire night for the little one. They are initiates. They should not even be in the market in their robes.”

  “They have not started to tutor with Sisters yet. They have just left their cradles, as they say. I would not expect them to adhere to the strictures we adhere to.”

  “But I do,” he said finally and turned away.

  The pairs of Brothers standing in the market ushered the girls back to Brother Karl. They were escorted to the inn and told to pack their things. Back in their room Karl sat on the bed in contemplation while Krisa stood at the window again. Glory and Pearl chattered and complained as they packed. Karl looked to Krisa and saw a troubled expression.

  “Girls, change out of your robes,” she told them to their surprise. “Krisa, find the stable and have the horses prepared. We will be leaving.”

  She went down to speak to the innkeeper. Quietly she paid for the extra day and the care of the horses. She asked if there had been any other messages for her or if he could get one to Captain Doran at the Keep. He shook his head and looked toward the door. No one was there but she knew on the other side of it were Brothers.

  She was a Brother. Why did she feel the need to avoid them? Krisa’s irritation and paranoia was simply wearing off on her and she was being unreasonable. But she didn’t want to subject the girls to the restrictions she felt Brother Fen was about to impose on them. Over the last few days she’d been more and more torn about her task in taking them to be Sisters in the end. While she knew she must, she began to feel deep regret. They were such free spirits, kind, lovely girls. A life in seclusion would be tragic.

  She decided to take a chance and trust the man. In a low voice she told him, “We are going to be leaving Cobarn.”

  He looked at her in a different way, like he realized she may not entirely be one of them. “Yes?”

  “Do you have someone who could drive us? I’m not familiar with the streets. I could pay them for their trouble.”

  “Yes, Brother, I do. They haven’t ordered you to stay, have they? I won’t put myself in poor esteem with the Brothers.”

  “Not at all,” she denied.

  “I’ll send Mishell up to your room when the driver has come. It won’t be long.”

  Back in the room Glory and Pearl sat on the edge of the bed in civilian clothes. Pearl’s torn, filthy clothes had been discarded long ago so she put on one of Glory’s more demure dresses. She looked even more uncomfortable than she had in the pale yellow robes commenting she itched all over like when her previous bed mates had fleas. Glory couldn’t resist putting on her blue frilly dress saying Captain Doran would like it. Krisa had returned to the window, dressed in dark pants and the brown sweater she had worn back in Brynntown.

  “We need to get word to the Marshalls,” Brother Karl said absently, packing up her things. “If they find us gone they will worry.”

  “I will do it,” Krisa told her, turning from the window.

  “No, I need you girls with me.”

  “Brother Karl,” Krisa told her. “I know how. My papa used to say I could sneak through a den of bears, kiss one on the nose and be out before they smelled me.”

  The girls giggled at the imagery but Karl frowned. “They don’t allow little girls to walk into the Keep for a consultation.”

  “I can go now and be back before we leave. I know how. I will get word to Captain Doran, I promise.”

  After long moments of consideration and a silent prayer Karl nodded twice. “Don’t let the Brothers see you, please.”

  The three of them sat waiting. They waited for so long Brother Karl knew that at any moment there would be a Brother downstairs to take them to the Sanctuary. They waited for Mishell to come, they waited for a message from Doran, and they waited most of all for Krisa. She couldn’t leave the girl behind under any circumstance.

  Krisa confidently moved up the alley that led from the stables to the road beside the inn. She managed to cross several streets, slipped into shop doorways to watch then scurried across from the wall around the keep. None of the Brothers watching the inn recognized her or paid any attention. She watched the pattern of the guards in the towers and atop the wall for several minutes.

  It was easy enough to get in the main gates amid the numbers of people going in and out. Krisa hid in the stable among sleek black horses until the boy tending them turned for a rake, giving her an opportunity to pull herself up onto the flimsy slatted roof over the horses. She climbed up and over onto the stone roof of the Keep’s kitchens, hearing the staff under her through the vents used for steam and smoke. It sloped gently down to the rotting refuse pit where they’d toss out the unused waste of the day.

  Above was a slit window, too far out of reach, and in the sights of a guard on the eastern wall. She removed her boots, tying them to her belt. She breathed slowly, watching the guard over her shoulder until he took his last step and spun to walk the other way. She had only eight seconds before he’d turn to look back, which he always did, before continuing on. In her bare feet, with nothing but her strength she pulled herself up the wall made of stone and logs to the lip of the window. With a great heave she caught her knee on the sill and slid up to a standing position, squeezing her bones into the opening. Eight seconds. He turned. He turned back again. It was a tight fit but she was slender and tall. With her head turned to the side she pushed herself through into a dim corridor lit only by three of those slit windows. She softly jogged to the end of the hall. A servants’ stair entrance stood ajar. Inside she could hear housekeeping staff way down below as their voices carried up. Within ten minutes she’d learned that the Marshalls were staying another flight up in the east corridor.

  While there were no guards posted in that hallway there were people coming and going constantly. It held the living quarters for all residents. When maids entered a room to clean it took twelve minutes to change bedding, empty and clean chamber pots, straighten up furniture, have clothing gathered for laundering and fill wash basins. Krisa watched from a recess in the wall, pressed back into the shadows. The maid had two more rooms to clean, so one must be the Marshalls’. A door opened directly across from Krisa. Stennor, one of the scouts walked out, scanned the hallway then closed the door. Krisa smiled as he walked away. She’d have to remember to rib him for being a Marshall scout yet not seeing her standing directly in front of him.

  Their room was next for the maid. Krisa left the shadow of the niche. She casually stepped to the door facing her, pressing herself against the
stone as someone up the hall did a double-take not sure if they saw something move. He didn’t, he reasoned, and kept walking. The door creaked softly as it opened. She slipped in. There was just enough room for her between the wardrobe and the wall so that’s where she hid when the maid came in. The portly woman shook out the blankets, banged on the pillows, dumped ashes from pipes into a bowl, picked up all the pieces of clothing the men had left on beds or chairs and hung them in the wardrobe. A jacket, one of the Marshall’s jackets, hung on the back of a chair. She brushed off the shoulders but left it there. Into the adjoining room the woman walked. Krisa waited until she heard the door close to emerge. There, no problem.

  The sounds of patrons and dishes and the smell of food were strong on the air, telling Karl that the evening meal was being served in the dining room. They had been waiting a few hours she guessed when they finally received a knock on the door. She said a quick prayer that it was Krisa. Though, when she opened the door it was Mishell. The girl curtsied and waited for them.

  “Our drive is here. Where is Krisa?” she demanded to no one in particular. She gathered their bags and ushered the girls out into the hallway. Mishell led them down but instead of through the dining room she led them past the kitchens, out into the cooler air at the back of the inn. Stables and storage barns surrounded a small courtyard where their cart stood, along with their second horse. A driver sat atop the cart and Krisa sat on the horse, smiling broadly.

  Relief flooded through Brother Karl and she almost sobbed, her worry being for nothing. The driver seemed bored waiting for them all to find spots. The other two girls sat in the back and she rode next to him. It was slow going but eventually they moved out onto a street that avoided the front of the inn. They drew no attention and Krisa seemed happy, scanning the people around them, glancing in the direction of the Keep often. The driver remained quiet and took less populace roads until they reached the last stretch of houses that then stretched out into a fine orchard on either side.

  He pulled the cart to a stop and handed the reins to Brother Karl, who thanked him and paid him generously. He hopped down and with a bow started his walk back to the city. Karl smiled at the girls and called out, “No ugly yellow robes and dungeons tonight, girls.”