A Throne for Sisters

by Morgan Rice

  “All right,” Sophia said. “I won’t argue. Besides, maybe it will throw off anyone who is looking for two girls,” she said with a laugh.

  “I do not look like a boy,” Kate snapped back in obvious indignation.

  Sophia smiled at that. They salvaged their cakes, stuffed them in their new pockets, and together, they were off.

  The next part was harder to smile about; there remained so many things they needed to do if they wanted to actually survive. They had to find shelter, for one thing, and then work out what they were going to do, where they were going to go.

  One step at a time, she reminded herself.

  They scrambled back down to the streets, and this time Sophia led the way, trying to find a route through the poorer section of the city, still too close to the orphanage for her tastes.

  She saw a string of burnt out houses ahead, obviously not recovered from one of the fires that sometimes swept through the city when the river was low. It would be a dangerous place to rest.

  Even so, Sophia headed for them.

  Kate gave her a wondering, skeptical look.

  Sophia shrugged.

  Dangerous is better than nothing at all, she sent.

  They approached cautiously, and just as Sophia stuck her head around the corner, she was startled as a pair of figures rose up out of the wreckage. They appeared so soot-blackened by staying in the charred remains that for a moment Sophia thought they’d been in the fire.

  “Geddout! Leave our patch alone!”

  One of them rushed at Sophia, and she shrieked as she took an involuntary step back. Kate looked as though she might fight, but then the other figure there pulled a dagger that shone far brighter than anything else there.

  “This is our claim! Pick your own ruin, or I’ll bleed you.”

  The sisters ran then, putting as much distance between them and the house as they could. With every step, Sophia was sure that she could hear the footsteps of knife-wielding thugs, or watchmen, or the nuns, somewhere behind them.

  They walked until their legs hurt and the afternoon grew far too dark. At least they took solace that, with every step, they were one step farther from the orphanage.

  Finally, they approached a slightly better part of town. For some reason, Kate’s face brightened at the sight of it.

  “What is it?” Sophia asked.

  “The penny library,” her sister replied. “We can slip in there. I sneak away sometimes, when the sisters send us on errands, and the librarian lets me in even though I don’t have the penny to pay.”

  Sophia didn’t hold much hope of finding help there, but the truth was that she didn’t have any better ideas. She let Kate lead her, and they headed for a busy space where moneylenders mixed with advocates and there were even a few carriages mixed in with the normal horses and pedestrians.

  The library was one of the larger buildings there. Sophia knew the story: that one of the nobles of the city had decided to educate the poor and left a portion of his fortune to build the kind of library that most just kept locked away in their country homes. Of course, charging a penny a visit still meant that the poorest couldn’t visit. Sophia had never had a penny. The nuns saw no reason to give their charges money.

  She and Kate approached the entrance, and she saw an aging man sitting there, soft looking in slightly worn clothes, obviously as much a guard as a librarian. To Sophia’s surprise, he smiled as they approached. Sophia had never seen anyone happy to see her sister before.

  “Young Kate,” he said. “It has been a while since you have been here. And you’ve brought a friend. Go through, go through. I will not stand in the way of knowledge. Earl Varrish’s son may have put a penny tax on knowledge, but the old earl never believed in it.”

  He seemed genuine about it, but Kate was already shaking her head.

  “That’s not what we need, Geoffrey,” Kate said. “My sister and I…we ran away from the orphanage.”

  Sophia caught the shock on the older man’s face.

  “No,” he said. “No, you must not do such a foolish thing.”

  “It’s done,” Sophia said.

  “Then you cannot be here,” Geoffrey insisted. “If the watch come, and they find you here with me, they may assume that I had some role in this.”

  Sophia would have left then, but it seemed that Kate still wanted to try.

  “Please, Geoffrey,” Kate said. “I need—”

  “You need to go back,” Geoffrey said. “Beg forgiveness. I have pity for your situation, but it is the situation fate has handed you. Go back before the watch catch you. I cannot help you. I may even be flogged for not alerting the watch that I saw you. That is all the kindness I can give you.”

  His voice was harsh, and yet Sophia could see the kindness in his eyes, and that it pained him to say the words. Almost as if he were battling himself, as if he were putting on a show of being harsh only to drive home his point.

  Even so, Kate looked crushed. Sophia hated to see her sister that way.

  Sophia pulled her back, away from the library.

  As they walked, Kate, head down, finally spoke.

  “What now?” she asked.

  The truth was that Sophia didn’t have an answer.

  They kept walking, but by now, she was exhausted from walking so long. It was starting to rain, too, in that steady way that suggested it wouldn’t stop soon. Few places did rain the way Ashton did.

  Sophia found herself gravitating down the sloped cobblestone streets toward the river that ran through the city. Sophia wasn’t sure what she hoped to find there, among the barges and the flat-bottomed punts. She doubted that wharf hands or whores were likely to be of any help to them, and those seemed to be the main things this part of the city held. But at least it was a destination. If nothing else, they could find a place to hide by its shores and watch the peaceful sailing of the ships, and dream of other places.

  Eventually, Sophia spotted a shallow overhang near one of the city’s many bridges. She approached. She reeled from the stench, as did Kate, and the infestation of rats. But her tiredness made even the meanest scrap of shelter seem like a palace. They had to get out of the rain. They had to get out of sight. And right then, what else was there? They had to find a spot where no one else, even vagrants, dared to go. And this was it.

  “Here?” Kate asked, in disgust. “Couldn’t we go back to the chimney?”

  Sophia shook her head. She doubted that they would be able to find it again, and even if they could, it would be where any hunters would start to look. This was the best place they were going to find before the rain got worse and before night fell.

  She settled down and tried to hide her tears for her sister’s sake.

  Slowly, reluctantly, Kate sat down beside her, clutching her arms to her knees and rocking herself, as if to shut out the cruelty and barbarism and hopelessness of the world.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  In Kate’s dreams, her parents were still alive, and she was happy. Whenever she dreamed, it seemed that they were there, although the faces weren’t memories so much as constructed things, with only the locket to guide them. Kate hadn’t been old enough for more when it all changed.

  She was in a house somewhere in the countryside, where the view from the leaded windows took in orchards and fields. Kate dreamed the warmth of the sun on her skin, the gentle breeze that ruffled through the leaves outside.

  The next part never seemed to make sense. She didn’t know enough of the details, or she hadn’t remembered them right. She tried to force her dream to give her the whole story of what had happened, but it gave her fragments instead:

  An open window, with stars outside. Her sister’s hand, Sophia’s voice in her head, telling her to hide. Looking for their parents through the maze of the house…

  Hiding through the house in the dark. Hearing the sounds of someone moving about there. There was light beyond, even though it was night outside. She felt she was close, on the verge of discovering what f
inally happened to their parents that night. The light from the window started to grow brighter, and brighter, and—

  “Wake up,” Sophia said, shaking her. “You’re dreaming, Kate.”

  Kate’s eyes flickered open resentfully. Dreams were always so much better than the world she lived in.

  She squinted at the light. Impossibly, morning had arrived. Her first day ever sleeping a full night outside the stench and screams of the orphanage’s walls, her first morning ever waking up somewhere, anywhere, else. Even in a dank place like this, she was elated.

  She noticed not just the difference from the failing afternoon light; it was the way the river in front of them had sprung into life with the barges and boats hurrying to make the most distance upriver they could. Some moved with small sails, others with poles pushing them or horses towing them from the side of the river.

  Around them, Kate could hear the rest of the city waking up. The bells of the temple were sounding the hour, while in between, she could hear the chatter of a whole city’s worth of people making their way to work, or setting off on other journeys. Today was Firstday, a good day to begin things. Maybe that would mean good luck for her and Sophia, too.

  “I keep having the same dream,” Kate said. “I keep dreaming about… about that night.”

  They always seemed to stop short of calling it more than that. It was strange, when they could probably communicate more directly than anyone else in the city, that she and Sophia still hesitated talking around this one thing.

  Sophia’s expression darkened, and Kate immediately felt bad about that.

  “I dream about it too, sometimes,” Sophia admitted sadly.

  Kate turned to her, focused. Her sister had to know. She’d been older, she would have seen more.

  “You know what happened, don’t you?” Kate asked. “You know what happened with our parents.”

  It was more of a statement than a question.

  Kate scanned her sister’s face for answers, and she saw it, just a flicker, something she was hiding.

  Sophia shook her head.

  “There are some things it’s better not to think about. We need to focus on what happens next, not on the past.”

  It wasn’t exactly a satisfying answer, but it was no more than Kate had expected. Sophia wouldn’t talk about what happened the night their parents left. She never wanted to discuss it, and even Kate had to admit to feelings of unease every time she thought about it. Besides, in the House of the Unclaimed, they didn’t like it when orphans tried to talk about the past. They called it ungrateful, and it was just one more thing worthy of punishment.

  Kate kicked a rat off of her foot and sat up straighter, looking around.

  “We can’t stay where we are,” she said.

  Sophia nodded.

  “We’ll die if we stay here on the streets.”

  That was a hard thought, but it was probably true, as well. There were so many ways to die in the streets of this city. Cold and hunger were just the start of the list. With the street gangs, the watch, disease, and all the other risks out here, even the orphanage started to look safe.

  Not that Kate would ever go back. She would burn it to the ground before she stepped back through its doors. Maybe one day she would burn it to the ground anyway. She smiled at that.

  Feeling a hunger pain, Kate pulled out the last of her cake and began to wolf it down. Then she remembered her sister. She tore off half and handed it to her.

  Sophia looked at her hopefully, but with guilt.

  “It’s okay,” Kate lied. “I have another in my dress.”

  Sophia took it reluctantly. Kate sensed her sister knew she was lying, but was too hungry to deny herself. Yet their connection was so close, Kate could feel her sister’s hunger, and Kate could never allow herself to be happy if her sister was not.

  They both finally crept out of their hiding place.

  “So, big sister,” Kate asked, “any ideas?”

  Sophie sighed sadly and shook her head.

  “Well, I’m starving,” Kate said. “It will be better to think on a full belly.”

  Sophia nodded in agreement, and they both headed back toward the main streets.

  They soon found a target—a different baker—and stole breakfast the way they’d stolen their last meal. As they ducked into an alley and gorged themselves, it was tempting to think that they might live the rest of their lives like that, using their shared talent to take what they needed when no one was paying attention. But Kate knew it couldn’t work like that. Nothing good lasted forever.

  Kate looked out at the bustle of the city before her. It was overwhelming. And its streets seemed to stretch forever.

  “If we can’t stay out on the street,” she said, “what do we do? Where do we go?”

  Sophia hesitated for a moment, looking as though she was as unsure as Kate was.

  “I don’t know,” she admitted.

  “Well, what can we do?” Kate asked.

  It didn’t seem like as long a list as it should have been. The truth was that orphans like them didn’t get options in their lives. They were prepared for lives where they would be indentured as apprentices or servants, soldiers, or worse. There was no real expectation that they would ever be free, because even those genuinely looking for an apprentice would only pay a pittance; not enough to ever pay off their debt.

  And the truth was that Kate had little patience for sewing or cooking, etiquette or haberdashery.

  “We could find some trader and try to apprentice ourselves,” Kate suggested.

  Sophia shook her head.

  “Even if we could find one willing to take us on, they would want to hear from our families beforehand. When we couldn’t produce a father to vouch for us, they would know what we were.”

  Kate had to admit that her sister had a point.

  “Well then, we could sign on as barge hands, and see the rest of the country.”

  Even as she said it, she knew that was probably just as ludicrous as her first idea. A barge captain would still ask questions, and probably any hunters of escaped orphans would watch the barges for those trying to escape. They certainly couldn’t rely on someone else to help them, not after what had happened in the library, with the only man in this city she had considered a friend.

  What a naïve fool she had been.

  Sophia seemed to get the enormity of what faced them as well. She was looking away with a wistful expression on her face.

  “If you could do anything,” Sophia asked, “if you could go anywhere, where would you go?”

  Kate hadn’t thought about it in those terms.

  “I don’t know,” she said. “I mean, I never thought past just surviving the day.”

  Sophia fell silent for a long time. Kate could feel her thinking.

  Finally, Sophia spoke.

  “If we try to do anything normal, there are going to be just as many obstacles as if we shoot for the biggest things in the world. Maybe even more, because people expect people like us to settle for less. So what do you want, more than anything?”

  Kate thought about that.

  “I want to find our parents,” Kate said, realizing it as she spoke it.

  She could feel the flash of pain that ran through Sophia with those words.

  “Our parents are dead,” Sophia said. She sounded so certain that Kate wanted to ask her again what had happened all those years ago. “I’m sorry, Kate. That wasn’t what I meant.”

  Kate sighed bitterly.

  “I don’t want anyone to control what I do again,” Kate said, picking the thing that she wanted almost as much as their parents’ return. “I want to be free, truly free.”

  “I want that as well,” Sophia said. “But there are very few truly free people in this city. The only ones really are…”

  She looked out across the city and, following her gaze, Kate could see that she was looking out toward the palace, with its shining marble and its gilt decorations.

&nb
sp; Kate could feel what she was thinking.

  “I don’t think being a servant at the palace would make you free,” Kate said.

  “I wasn’t thinking about being a servant,” Sophia snapped. “What if…what if we could just walk in there and be one of them? What if we could persuade them all that we were? What if we could marry some rich man, have connections at court?”

  Kate didn’t laugh, but only because she could tell how serious her sister was about the whole idea. If she could have anything in the world, the last thing Kate would want would be to walk into the palace and become a great lady, to marry some man who told her what to do.

  “I don’t want to depend on anyone else for my freedom,” Kate said. “The world has taught us one thing, and one thing only: we must depend on ourselves. Only on ourselves. That way we can control everything that happens to us. And we don’t have to trust anyone. We have to learn to take care of ourselves. To sustain ourselves. To live off the land. To learn to hunt. To farm. Anything where we don’t rely on anyone else. And we have to amass great weapons and become great fighters, so if anyone comes to take what is ours, we can kill them.”

  And suddenly, Kate realized.

  “We need to leave this city,” she urged her sister. “It’s filled with dangers for us. We need to live out beyond the city, in the country, where few people live and where no one will be able to harm us.”

  The more she spoke about it, the more she realized that it was the right thing to do. It was her dream. Right then, Kate wanted nothing more than to run for the gates of the city, out into the open spaces beyond.

  “And when we learn to fight,” Kate added, “when we become bigger and stronger and have the finest swords and crossbows and daggers, we will come back here and kill everyone who hurt us in the orphanage.”

  She felt Sophia’s hands on her shoulder.

  “You can’t talk like that, Kate. You can’t just talk about killing people like it’s nothing.”

  “It’s not nothing,” Kate spat. “It’s what they deserve.”