Kaelyn walked into Mythnar with the pre-dawn traffic as soon as the gate opened. It surprised her that no one seemed to notice or care about a young woman, in men’s clothes, traveling alone. Well, not quite alone. Sometime in the middle of the night, as she lay huddled against a tree in the meadow outside the city’s walls, Cat had appeared and curled up beside her. Now it was just the two of them.
She followed a tinker with a large pushcart piled high with pots, pans, kettles, and little tin toys into the main market then wandered around looking at all the different stalls. There was fresh produce from the surrounding farms, a baker’s stall with breads and pastries, two booths selling stews and hot meat pies and still more stalls selling leather, weapons, cloths, jewelry, and so much more. Mythnar’s market was filled with people, even at such an early hour and became more crowded as she stood there marveling.
The thrill of the market lasted until she passed the baker’s pastries for the third time and her stomach rumbled. She hadn’t eaten, but it didn’t make much of a difference since she didn’t have any money. Skirting around a meat vendor’s booth, she shuffled to a nook, as far away from the baker as possible. She sat on a barrel leaning against the side of the tinker’s booth with no idea of what to do. What could she do? All she really knew was that she couldn’t go back to Mac and Talar.
A cold wind swept through the market, bringing with it thick, heavy clouds that threatened rain. People rushed about, finishing their day’s business before the shower started. Across the street sat a three-story brick building. Every time someone opened its door, the warm glow of a roaring fire teased her. Maybe she could sit inside for a bit. Just to warm up.
She eased across the square. As she approached, the door swung open and a trio of laughing men dressed in worn farm clothes burst through and stumbled down the single, low step. The smell of roasting meat made her stomach rumble again and the roar of people laughing and talking and eating washed over her.
The farmers stopped at the metal smith’s booth, while two soldiers pushed past her to enter the tavern.
She paused, poised on the step, uncertain of the welcome she’d receive given that she’d couldn’t buy anything. She probably looked like a beggar. She supposed that’s what she was now.
More people pushed past her.
In and out.
One of the soldiers who’d walked past moments before came out and headed down the street. He stopped to speak with a group of people at a fruit vendor’s stand, pointed to the tavern then re-entered the building.
The wind picked up and flecks of rain dotted the ground.
The group from the fruit vendor’s booth shoved passed, laughing.
She wiped water from her face. She should see if Cat had found a shelter large enough for the two of them, but couldn’t bring herself to leave the promise of the heat within.
She gave the tavern door one last forlorn look as a young soldier poked his head out. His brown eyes locked on her and he scratched at a few days worth of stubble on his chin. “You know it’s raining,” he said.
“I noticed.”
“You should come in, then.”
She spread her hands out, palms up to show she had no money, then slipped them back into the overly long sleeves to ward off the chill.
“I see.”
Kaelyn attempted a smile. Her chin quivered and she knew she should leave before she started to cry. She spun on her heel, ready to flee.
“Hey,” said the man. “Just get in here.”
She took a step but stopped, not knowing if this was a situation she wanted to be in. The reaction of the sailors popped into her mind and she forced it back. She was going to have to trust someone at some time. At least now she knew a little bit about defending herself. Although that had gotten her into this mess in the first place.
She swallowed against the lump in her throat. Mac and Talar were her past and she wouldn’t make the same mistake again.
“So?” asked the man.
She nodded and followed him inside.
He strode down the center aisle between rows of long tables and benches to a table closest to the fire where he sat, making room for Kaelyn.
“This is my good friend–” said the man to his tablemates.
All eyes turned to her.
She offered a weak smile. No longer certain this was the right choice.
“My good friend–” he said again, as he patted the bench beside him.
Well, she was committed now. She plopped down beside him. “Kaelyn.”
A blond woman with sharp features sitting across from Kaelyn harrumphed. “Such a good friend.”
“Well, we all know Aric hasn’t done his good deed for the day,” said a giant of a man beside the blond with a laugh.
“Besides, look at her, Malicent. She couldn’t be more than twelve and she looks lost,” said a stocky young woman beside the first. She pulled a lock of brown hair over her shoulder and wrapped it around her index finger.
“I’m not that young. And I’m not lost.” Although in truth, Kaelyn didn’t know where she was going or what she was doing, which probably constituted as being lost. “I guess I am lost.”
“You’re not twelve?” asked the giant.
“Obviously,” said a lean man, his bright green eyes piercing into her.
Kaelyn shifted, suddenly uncomfortable. “I’m sure it doesn’t help that the only clothing I have are hand-me-downs I’ll never grow into.”
Everyone laughed and a contented warmth grew within Kaelyn. Perhaps things would work out after all. She could start over again, without the sword fighting. She didn’t have her memory, which would make it even easier to forget she’d ever been someone else.
“And seeing that my friend is so rude,” said the brunette, “I guess I’m to do the introductions. This,” she said, as she pointed to the blond beside her, “is my sister, Malicent. The giant on my other side is Gerid. That fine young soldier beside you is Raleigh. You’ve already met Aric, and I’m Jillyn.”
Aric propped his elbows on the table. “So why are you lost? Maybe I can find your way.”
“Slow down,” said Gerid. “She’ll have a much better time telling you with food in her stomach.”
“I can hardly see how that matters,” muttered Malicent loud enough for everyone to hear.
“Well, you see–” said Gerid, but Malicent turned away and studied the fire.
Kaelyn sighed. “I guess I’m not really lost.”
“You’re not?” asked Raleigh with an exaggerated gesture of shock, his hands clasped over his heart.
Gerid mimicking Raleigh’s gesture. “But I thought you said you were lost?”
“Perhaps,” said Jillyn, not joining in the teasing, “we should let her explain.”
“Yes, with food.” Aric stood and waved for a server.
“Now,” said Gerid, “how is it that you’re lost, but not lost?”
Kaelyn sucked a breath, not certain what to tell these people. They seemed nice enough, but so had Mac and Talar. She certainly couldn’t say anything about her lack of memory or the fighting lessons.
“Well,” she said. “I went to find my father, but he’s dead.”
This raised a chorus of sympatric exclamations and grunts from the group.
The warmth she’d felt at their earlier sympathy chilled. She didn’t want to lie, but there was no other choice. “And now I don’t know what to do.”
“You could go home,” said Malicent, as if it was so obvious Kaelyn was an idiot for not thinking of it.
“But there is no home. It was just my mother and I at . . . the farm and . . . and we were attacked by bandits and I ran away. My mother–” she paused, trying to think of how best to tell the story.
“It’s all right. You don’t have to say any more,” said Jillyn.
“Now we can see how you’re lost, but not lost.” Gerid sat back, his expression glum.
“I don’t know where to go from here.” And that, at least, was true. Had she even known where she was going?
The server brought bowls of stew and pitchers of ale to the table.
“Does anyone have any idea of what we can do with our lost friend?” asked Aric once the server had left.
“How about get a job,” said Malicent. She picked through her stew, examining every morsel before eating it.
“Of course,” said Gerid. “With the Prince Consort and Prince Wyndham you could easily find employment.”
“At least,” said Jillyn, “until you figure out what you’re going to do.”
It sounded like such a good idea–although sneaking onto the ship to talk with Mac had seemed like a good idea, too. But her options were limited and if she wanted to eat, she needed to do something.
“How do I go about doing that?”
“They’re so shorthanded all you probably have to do is be there,” said Raleigh.
Jillyn nodded. “If I wasn’t already a junior scribe for the court, and father didn’t deem it below our status, I’m sure he would have hired Malicent and I out long ago.”
“Oh yes, and you two are so close to nobility,” said Raleigh, rolling his eyes.
“Of course.” Gerid puffed out his chest. “They’re sitting next to one.”
“Fourth sons of barons don’t count,” said Raleigh.
“Sure we do.” Gerid turned to Kaelyn, who could help smiling at him. “What can you do?”
Kaelyn look from Gerid to Jillyn to Aric. They all seemed so concerned, so interested in her. What could she do? Her entire memory to date was basic wilderness survival. She knew how to pick a good camp site–on a slight rise in case it rained–and she knew how to make a fire pit. She knew how to wash clothes against the rocks in a stream to work out any stains, and how to prepare small creatures, like rabbit, raccoon, or pigeon for roasting. She also knew that none of those skills would be useful to royal retainers in a city. At least that’s what she remembered from the Mac Theselon tales.
“This should not be a difficult question,” said Malicent.
“Perhaps translating farming skill to something useful for a royal court is more difficult than we think,” said Gerid.
Surely she could think of something. She had to or she would be back where she started. Cold and alone with no place to go. All she knew was forest survival.
“It’s a shame she can’t read and write,” said Malicent over her shoulder. “Jillyn could convince the magistrate that she needs an assistant for her new precious commission.”
“Of course I can read and write,” said Kaelyn before she could stop herself. Something within her knew that she could read, if not write as well.
“Then it’s solved,” said Aric. “Jillyn does need an assistant, and Kaelyn here is the one for the job.”
“What am I doing?” asked Kaelyn, but it didn’t really matter. She had a purpose now. All she had to do was keep her mouth shut and everything would be fine.
“You know about Angwyn, the clansmen’s keep?” he asked.
She shook her head, receiving expressions of disbelief from the group.
“Gerid, we need a quick history lesson over here,” Aric exclaimed in mock shock.
Gerid chuckled. “Aric’s from Mythnar, he assumes everyone knows about Angwyn.” He took a long sip from his mug then leaned against the table to get closer to Kaelyn. “During the reign of Harcourt the third, Meriduin managed to take a small plateau in the mountains from the clansmen.”
“It’s the only land we ever took and held from them for more than a season,” said Raleigh.
“Probably because Harcourt started construction on Angwyn, then known as Alegird, almost before he’d captured the land,” added Jillyn.
Gerid waved her and Raleigh quiet. “It’s said that Angwyn is what finally killed King Harcourt. He died in Vitreah the very moment the last stone in the keep was set into place.”
“Which,” said Jillyn, “is absolute nonsense.”
“Then how do you explain his death?” asked Aric.
“It took almost forty-five years to build the keep, and that was with men working day and night. King Harcourt was almost thirty when the construction started. You do the math. He died of old age.”
“Anyway,” said Gerid. “Harcourt’s son, King Ulfred, only held Angwyn for five years before the clansmen captured it and renamed it.”
“It’s been in the hands of the clansmen ever since,” said Aric.
“So what does this have to do with Jillyn?” asked Kaelyn, not certain she followed the conversation.
“The clansmen say the original library and records room of Angwyn are in perfect condition, that they haven’t been touched in all these years. As a token of their good faith in the peace treaty, they’ve offered to make these records available to the royal scribes,” said Jillyn.
“It is not on the top of the Queen’s list of priorities,” said Malicent over her shoulder.
“Yes, but she’s sending Jillyn,” said Gerid.
“I am the only scribe who can speak the clansmen’s language.”
“I’m sure,” said Aric, “that has nothing to do with it.”
Jillyn sighed and shook her head. “This is important to me. No one said you had to come along.”
“Actually, I was assigned as your guard,” said Aric. “Remember?”
“You will never let me forget.”
They decided that Kaelyn and Jillyn would go to the magistrate that evening as soon as dinner was over. Contented, Kaelyn sat back and watched as the conversation moved on from topic to topic. A part of her didn’t want to accept it, but she couldn’t deny that there was something comfortable and comforting about these people. That part that had accepted Mac and Talar so easily, accepted this group of friends. Perhaps her instincts weren’t so completely wrong. She could begin again, as a different person, as someone who didn’t do the wrong things, and no one would be the wiser.
The watch bell tolled the changing of the guards. Raleigh waved a quick goodbye and rushed off to report for duty as Malicent rolled her eyes and left.
Gerid groaned and Jillyn and Aric laughed.
“Why,” asked Gerid, grasping Jillyn’s hands, “couldn’t you be the one my brother is so determined on marrying?”
“Even if he was fond of Jillyn, you’d still have to talk to Malicent at dinner,” said Aric.
Jillyn offered a sympathetic smile. “There is nothing wrong with my sister.”
Gerid sighed. “She just doesn’t have the common sense that you do.”
“Older siblings need to make better marriages than us younger ones.”
“I bet your father was furious when he heard that Prince Wyndham came to Mythnar to be engaged to some clanswoman to solidify the peace treaty.”
Jillyn laughed. “Malicent was so certain she had him. Especially once Wintherford’s daughter was sent away. But they never did invite her to Vitreah.”
“I still can’t figure that one out,” said Gerid. “Everyone was sure Wyndham would marry her. They’d been inseparable since birth. He–”
“And the Queen probably planned all along to marry her son to a clanswoman to seal her treaty,” said Aric.
“What a shame,” said Gerid. “To be inseparable, but always separated.”
Kaelyn drifted away from the conversation. Whoever some prince was going to marry was none of her concern. She needed to stay focused on her new life and being perfect, not slipping up.
“I don’t know,” said Jillyn, as Kaelyn drifted back into the conversation. “I feel sorry for her.”
Aric stood. “We should get going if we’re going to see the magistrate tonight.”
Gerid nodded his agreement. “Let’s slip by my place and see if we can get a change of clothes for you. I have a sister who should be about your size.”
With that, they raced out of the tavern, laughing at the rain. Kaelyn joined them, buoyed against the rain by the possibilities ahead of her.
