ONE

 

High up in the sky, the very tips of the trees swayed under the gentle persuasion of the warm afternoon breeze, bringing a soft smile to her face. Summer was fading and the searing winds were settling. In just a few short weeks the leaves would dry and fall. Though she always lamented the loss of the summer’s heat, this was her favorite time of the year.

 

Taking a deep breath, she allowed herself to feel the wonder of the land’s transition through the seasons before she returned her thoughts to the task she had been given. Her heart fluttered and her stomach churned with fear as she looked past the protection the woods had offered her and into the small village beyond.

 

A dozen and more wattle and daub homes were scattered around the clearing and smoke wound from their chimneys, reaching high into the fading skies. She could smell their cooking, the savory aroma of the hearty stews, the sweet, bready scent, of apple and rhubarb pie… Just the thought of it made her mouth water but as her focus returned to the task that had been laid out for her, her appetite quickly faded and she took another deep, settling breath.

 

Her eyes devoured the details and her mind comprehended them in a way that she had learned was irregular. Without contemplation, she understood things that others always seemed to overlook. Details, such as the seemingly ramshackle arrangement of the buildings within the village, obviously displaced to only appear unorganized, when teamed with the postures of the men that lived there illuminated the peculiarity. It was those small details, in conjunction with the quiet, that seemed most abnormal.

 

In all her life, she had never seen so many people living so amiably in one place. If there was one thing she had learned, it was that discord seemed inevitable when more than a few people existed within the same space. There was no shouting and no laughter, the only noises that reached her ears were the clatter of pots as the evening meals were being served, the chatter of chickens, the grunt of pigs and the occasional whinnying of the few horses she had spotted. It was unnatural behavior, unless the men were once soldiers, a notion which did not fill her with hope if she was to achieve her goal.

 

Crouching low, she heard the call of a lone blackbird and looked to the east, spotting movement. Her keen eyes met the dark gaze of her companion and she scowled, tightening her full lips as she bared her teeth at him. She flicked her head to indicate she was preparing to move in. His impatience was evident but she would not let him rush her. She needed to ensure her success, she did not wish to endure the repercussions of her failure—again.

 

It was a mild evening and the calm of the place had encouraged her belief that she would not succeed in sneaking into the village. Standing, she walked calmly into the clearing, lifting the hood of her cloak over her head to cover her blue-black hair as she altered her gait and moved unsteadily towards the road.

 

‘Halt!’ she heard a man shout to her; another indication that this village was not average in nature. Not many townships secluded in such hard to reach regions would bother with setting a guard to keep watch. ‘Sate your business!’

 

Lifting her head slightly so that the man could see the feminine cast to her jaw line beneath the cowl that covered her eyes, she allowed her legs to wobble as she stepped towards him before collapsing to the ground.

 

‘Lass!’ the man who had questioned her called as he hurried towards her.

 

‘What is it?’ she heard another shout as she felt the man kneel beside her. She could smell the day’s sweat on him but it was not as offensive as it could have been. Her own home town was filled with men who did not bathe half as often as they should and compared to them, this man’s smell was almost as sweet as the scent of wildflowers on a warm summer evening.

 

‘A girl just stumbled out of the woods and fainted on the road.’ She felt him pull back her hood to look at her face. ‘Lass,’ he said, his loud voice softening. ‘Can you hear me?’

Groaning lightly, she fought the chuckle that was building inside her as she felt the man lifting her into his arms. Force, stealth, deception… no one had outlined the method she was expected to use to enter the village to complete her task.

 

‘Take her to Meran,’ the other man said. She was curious to see who he was but was not game to open her eyes lest her ruse fail.

 

At seventeen years of age, she was of average height but her figure had filled out years ago. Her bosom was fuller than most of the women she knew and her rump had invited many playful whacks from the men that kept her father’s company. Her waist was narrow and, she had been told that one day, if she learned how to use them right, her curves would become her most dangerous weapon.

 

The man who carried her was strong. Despite her weight, he bore her easily to a house that seemed, to her best guess, to be in the middle of the village. Her ears were pricked but the strange place had remained just as quiet as when she had watched it, regardless of the image of one of their own roaming the streets, cradling a passed out traveler. A strange community indeed.

 

‘Meran!’ her rescuer called out as he stepped up onto what sounded like the wooden steps of the small, sheltered landing that was the trademark entrance to the houses.

 

‘What is it?’

 

Surprised to hear a woman’s voice greeting them, she ignored the volume of her heart pounding. Women were not so easy to deceive.

 

‘This girl appeared out of nowhere and passed out,’ the man explained.

 

‘Set her down,’ the woman instructed and she felt the warm arms that had cradled her so carefully abandon her to the rough firmness of wood as she was laid on a bench of some sort. ‘Thank you, Quill.’

 

‘Will she be alright?’

 

‘Where am I?’ she asked groggily. Frowning at his concern, she opened her eyes slowly. Blinking many times to adjust to the light that she had not expected to be so bright, she tried to sit up but felt the man’s insistent hands pushing her back down.

 

‘You’re safe,’ the woman, Meran, answered. ‘Tell me, child, what were you doing out there all alone?’

 

‘What?’ Taking a ceramic cup filled with water from the woman, she sipped at it delicately.

 

‘Quill said you came out of nowhere.’

 

‘From the woods. Just walked right up the road and fainted,’ Quill said with a nod and for the first time, she could see his face clearly. Middle aged and lined, he looked kind. His strong blue eyes were concerned but she could feel something in him weaken when she locked her amber eyes on his.

 

‘I… I did?’ she asked, feigning confusion. Her distress seemed to impact on Quill the way she had hoped but Meran was not so easily swayed and her dark, narrowed eyes made that perfectly clear.

 

‘What’s your name?’ Meran asked.

 

‘Illean,’ she lied easily.

 

‘Illean, what are you doing out here? It’s an awful long way to the next village and we don’t get many travelers on these roads.’ Meran stated as she fetched a bowl of water and a cloth.

 

‘I was born in Cairsal. My father traded me for a small bag of gems and a fancy looking sword to a man from Kal-Rye who claimed to be a merchant.’

 

‘That doesn’t explain how you came to be here,’ Meran stated simply as she placed the cloth on her head.

 

‘The man was not a merchant, if I had to guess I’d say he was a pirate. He stunk of rum and sweat and filth and as soon as we cleared the mountains, I escaped.’ It was a story she had used many times, one she was comfortable with.

 

‘How?’

 

‘I’m sorry?’

 

‘How did you escape?’ Meran asked.

 

‘Two nights ago, we made camp in a shallow ravine. It was rocky and when he tried to force himself on me, I picked up a rock and hit him with it.’

 

Meran raised a black eyebrow but whether it was disbelief of approval that appeared in her face, the girl who had called herself Illean could not tell. Meran was not a mean woman, not by any measure, it was plain for all to see. She was a healer and her plump round cheeks were rosy against her tanned skin. Her appearance was matronly and her touch, while purposeful, was not unkind.

 

‘Are you with child?’ she asked and the color drained from Quill’s face.

 

‘No, I am a maiden still, though not for a lack of trying on that pirate’s part.’

 

‘Hungry?’

 

‘Starving,’ she confessed and that, at least, was the truth.

 

‘Quill, there’s some stew in the pot, bring her a bowl,’ the authoritative woman ordered before turning her attention back to her patient. ‘I don’t think you’re suffering from anything beyond a little exhaustion. We’ll find a place for you to rest the night.’

 

‘She can stay with us,’ Quill said as he spooned out the steaming stew and she studied him as he handed the bowl to her. Where she would have expected to find some sort of cunning agenda outlined within the blue of his eyes, she saw only concern. ‘The children won’t mind, I’m sure.’

 

Meran smiled. ‘That is sweet, but I meant I’d find her a bed here where I can keep an eye on her.’

 

‘You’re very kind.’ Lowering her eyes she smiled shyly. ‘Both of you.’

 

The blush that crept into Quill’s cheeks as a result of her compliment made her smile soften. He was a good man.

 

‘I better get back,’ he said awkwardly. ‘Let me know if you need anything else?’

 

‘Thank you, Quill.’ Meran nodded as he left the pair of them alone. ‘I’ll find somewhere for you to sleep. Eat up, there’s plenty more where that came from.’

 

With a full belly, she climbed into the cot Meran had provided for her. It was hard and the straw that topped it scratched at her skin but she had come to realize that these people didn’t have much. She wondered how anyone could have suspected they possessed what she had been sent to retrieve. Feigning sleep, she waited for the village to quiet and the villagers within to settle into their beds before she made her move.

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