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I was already up by the time the iron dawn bell clang. I was gazing wistfully at the walls that imprisoned me in Gilman's Cot but I didn't let myself dream of escape. I had given up hope nearly five summers ago.
"Up already, Roisin?" I heard a voice say and I turned swiftly to see Maerad, stumbling from the slaves' quarters, her eyes rimmed with red.
"Of course," I said quietly, watching as she pumped some water and splashed it over her head. "I heard you had to play until nearly dawn."
Maerad shrugged before starting to dry herself off with her cloak. Maerad's hair was tangled and messy, black as a raven's feathers, and just pass chest length. She was sixteen summers old and to me, she was my little sister. I myself was nineteen summers old.
"Late night?" asked a sniggering voice and Maerad and I turned simultaneously to see Lothar, the thug in charge of buttery. Lothar said something else, to which Maerad answered curtly.
"Shut your muddy mouth, pea-brain. Or Roisin or I will put the evil eye on you."
Even as she finished, Maerad had started to raise her arms and I pierced Lothar with my blackest glare.
"Ward! Ward!" the coward yelled, hands crossed before his eyes. "I meant no harm, Maerad, Roisin."
"Then you'd better stop this evil gossip," I said, deadly quiet. "Get!"
As Lothar scrambled away, I looked to see Maerad smiling a grim smile.
Everybody thought that Maerad and I were witches. Maerad more than me, because of her dark hair and blue eyes. My own hair was a curly mane of orange gold that fell to my waist and my eyes were emerald green, or so Maerad told me. I wouldn't know, since there are no mirrors here.
The northerners were light haired, most of them blond or having light brown or plain brown hair. But my own hair color was uncommon and my eyes were said to unnerve people. Green is a very rare color in a sea of brown and gray eyes.
I watched Maerad worriedly as we went to the common room for breakfast. Maerad and I were the only two musicians in Gilman's Cot. I had played at the last riot so it had been Maerad's turn this time and it was obvious that she had had scarcely an hour of sleep.
Maerad had been sent to the milchyard this morning and I was sympathetic; that was Lothar's section. I was sent to the same place I had been sent to for nearly three summer; the gardens.
I was considered the best gardener in Gilman's, and the herb and vegetables I tended to yielded more fruits than any others. It was a double edged gift, seeing as that though it ensured fewer beatings, it also encouraged the witch rumors.
I kept tight lipped about my gardening and my music. I had never told anyone, not even Maerad, where I came from. But I remembered. I remembered so much of my past life; after all, I had already been nine summers old when Pellinor was sacked and I had been sold as a slave with Maerad and Milana. Maerad didn't remember anything, she had only been six.
I remember my mother. She had been a beautiful woman with the same fiery mane as me, though her eyes had been golden and her skin tanned. My father had been a Bard, from Afinil, a School and fortress that had been destroyed so long ago. His hair had been brown, though his eyes had been green, like mine.
Sometimes, it was enough to make me choke back sobs when I thought of my parents. My father had died when I was only three from old age, his life having been long even by Bard's measures. My mother had been blessed with inexplicably long life, and had only died when she had been pierced by a sword blade.
I was brought out of my musings by Xam, the thug in charge of this section.
"Roisin!" he barked and I slowly stood up, wiping the dirt from my hands. "Take this to the barns."
He shoved a bucket at me full of a specific herb I knew was meant to help the stomachs of cows. It was probable that a cow was sick. I grabbed the bucket and made my way towards the cowbyre. As I neared it, I saw Lothar stomp away from the door. He spotted me and made a beeline for me.
"What are you doing here?" he snarled. "You're supposed to be in gardens."
I held up the bucket of herbs in front of him.
"I was told to get this to the cowbyre by Xam," I said quietly, noting that he was angry. "I'm guessing one of the cows is not well."
Lothar scowled but let me go pass him. As I entered the barn, I saw Maerad. But she wasn't milking the cows; instead she was talking to two men whom were sprawled on the hay. I looked on in shock and they didn't even notice my presence until the older of the two suddenly looked up at me sharply. I'd guess he'd be around 35 years old.
"Maerad," I said clearly, and she turned to me in shock, as well as the younger of the two men, who didn't seem to be much older than me. "Who are they?"
"You can see us?" asked the young stranger, looking at me in astonishment. He had light brown hair that was overlong and I could see gray blue eyes staring at me fiercely from his face.
The older man ran a hand through his hair.
"Two of the Gift," he muttered to himself and my breath caught.
"What do you know of the Gift?" I said sharply, dropping the bucket with a clang. "Who are you?"
Now, the two of them looked at me as if their eyes would pop out of their sockets in shock. Maerad spoke up.
"This is Cadvan of the School of Lirigon," she said, signaling towards the older of the strangers. "And this is Scipio of the School of Innail."
"Now that you know our names, will you tell us yours?" Scipio said. I was looking at them unbelievingly. Lirigon? Innail? What were two Bard doings here, in Gilman's Cot of all places?
But then, I felt my tongue unloosening and spoke, almost against my will, "I'm Roisin from the School of Afinil."
I realized what had happened.
"Truthtellers," I whispered and they merely gave a short nod.
"How can you be of Afinil?" asked Cadvan. "That fortress was destroyed long ago."
"My father was of Afinil," I responded softly. "He died when I was three of exceptionally long life."
"You both can't stay here, if you're from Pellinor and Afinil," said Cadvan tiredly.
I tried to shut out his words. I couldn't be let to hope. If I hoped, I'd die from not being able to escape.
I quickly went to feed the herbs to the cow that was sick and when I returned the two men had just laid down on the hay and fallen asleep.
Maerad looked at me.
"You knew," she said, her voice cracking. "You knew about where I come from, didn't you?"
Wordlessly, I nodded. Maerad sighed deeply and rested her forehead on the flank of the cow she was milking. She was disappointed that I hadn't told her. Just then, Lothar poked his head through the door.
"Get going Roisin," he growled and I quickly made my way back to the garden.
The rest of the day passed in a blur. I didn't have evening tasks today, so I decided to accompany Maerad. I saw her as she came back from activities. I joined her and we walked side by side for a moment.
"Do you believe them?" Maerad asked me quietly. "Do you think they can get us out of here?"
"I suppose," I said tiredly. "They are Bards. But how advanced they are, I have no idea."
Maerad stopped suddenly at the female quarters, where we slept. She disappeared inside and when she came out she had two things: her lyre and my satchel. I looked at her questionly as she handed me my satchel. She shrugged.
"I just have a feeling," she simply said and I put my satchel on, hidden by my thin, ratty cloak.
We entered the byre and saw the two men laying down, conversing in hushed tones. When we entered, they looked at us and smiled, though I saw Cadvan's smile fall as he looked at Maerad's legs. I followed his gaze and held in a gasp of shock. She had fresh welts on her legs from a beating and I tried to remember if I had seen Maerad do something wrong, but I couldn't remember.
They stood up and approached us. I could see a few freckles scattered around Scipio's cheeks from the close range now.
"Well, Roisin, Maerad, we've been thinking about it," Cadvan said. "This is a noisome, foul place; the animals are treated better than the people here. That is unjust enough. Do you wish to leave?"
I saw the hope flare in Maerad's blue eyes. I struggled with myself. Leaving would be so great but what if we were unsuccessful? I had once seen a man torn to pieces by Gilman's hounds, something which had made Maerad perpetually afraid of them. I didn't want to hope for escape; it would hurt too much if the hope was crushed.
"Leave this place?" asked Maerad, as if she hadn't heard anything more foolish in her life.
"Seriously."
"I've dreamed of nothing else these long years," she began, but I cut her off.
"It's impossible," I said scathingly, looking at them through narrowed eyes. "Why do you think we're still here?"
"Nothing is impossible," Scipio said, looking down at me. I was tall for a woman my age, though both Scipio and Cadvan seemed to tower over me, not to mention Maerad, who had always been average height and sometimes less than that from being starved.
Scipio kept talking.
"You could leave with us. But we are in a little dilemma and Cadvan is flying from danger into danger, making it unwise to take you with us."
I knew it. I knew that there was no hope for Maerad or me to escape. I saw the disappointment in Maerad's eyes and felt my heart reach out for her.
"But neither could we abandon you," cut in Cadvan. "If you are indeed from Pellinor and Afinil. We could come back, when we are stronger, but I have other duties that would take me months, and Scipio must accompany me. And my heart tells me…"
He fell silent and I looked at him with skepticism. I felt myself being watched and quickly turned to see Scipio's gray blue eyes looking at me. As soon as I met his eyes I dropped my own face, making me feel angry at myself for not meeting his eyes.
I had been preoccupied so when I next looked up I saw Cadvan and Scipio walking away.
"Wait!" Maerad suddenly said. "Wait."
They turned to face us.
"I'll come," she said boldly, and almost as one, all three of them turned to look at me. I looked into Maerad's crystal blue eyes, then Cadvan's deep dark blue ones and finally Scipio's gray blue ones. I sighed.
"I'll come too," I said, sounding braver than I felt.
"Is there anything you need to fetch?" Cadvan said Maerad showed him her lyre before I moved my cloak slightly to reveal my satchel. "We'll go now then."
When Maerad inquired about milking the cows and I nearly rolled my eyes. Who cared if the cows needed to be milked? We were going to be free!
Cadvan nodded at Scipio and Scipio came to stand right in front of me. He put his hands on my shoulders, making me shiver.
"Larnea il osenna lembel Roisin inasfre!" he said, though I understood. Turn the eyes of men from Roisin so she may walk unseen. I had had the Speech since I was seven years old.
Scipio stepped away from me and picked up a rucksack from the ground.
"I have just said," he started but I cut him off.
"Turn the eyes of men from Roisin so she may walk unseen," I said. "I've spoken the Speech since I was seven."
Scipio looked a bit surprised but then hid it. Cadvan and Scipio walked towards the wall with Maerad and me following, cautiously.
"No speaking," said Scipio. "We cannot make us unheard."
I flinched every time I saw people as we made our way through Gilman's Cot. There was one of the women that had tried to drown Maerad in the duck pond last month and several thugs were in the open squares.
We went to the part of the wall less guarded and started to climb. I wasn't very good at climbing and slipped constantly, despite the fairly easy to climb wall.
Just as I had reached the top my foot slipped and I was ready to fall when I felt two hands grasped each of my wrists. Opening my eyes, I saw Cadvan holing my right wrist while Scipio held my left wrist. Maerad was biting her lip and looking out at Gilman's Cot. They hauled me up and we started to go to the other side to climb down.
But as we did, I heard the metal bell ring thrice before it began a long, urgent peal. The signal for a servant escape. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Maerad scramble down so fast I could of missed it if I blinked.
"Now you make the pace," laughed Cadvan.
"They'll send the dogs after us!" whispered Maerad, and I could see how terrified she was. There's no escaping Gilman's hounds. They'll track a stag for a week and they can tear a grown man to pieces in a minute!"
Cadvan told her not to worry and that the only thing they had to do was reach the end of the valley by the end of today. I looked doubtfully at the end of the valley; it seemed like an awfully long way, and my legs hurt by just thinking of walking all they there.
"We'll walk then," Maerad said but there was still fear in her voice as she looked back to where the hounds were barking.
Maerad walked ahead of me with Cadvan, with Scipio and me bringing up the rear. My eyes were alert and I looked around everywhere, pausing briefly at the Landrost. The peak was red because of the setting sun.
At first, we went in silence. I kept stealing looks at Cadvan and Scipio. What if they weren't Bards? What if they were dark spirits? Because, really, what were the chances of two Bards suddenly coming to Gilman's Cot?
We had only gone about a half mile, more or less, when we heard the hounds and the hunting horn. The hunting horn sounded oddly everlasting when you knew what they were hunting. Us.
The hounds got closer and closer, along with some of Gilman's men. I could see Maerad getting more nervous as they got closer, and Cadvan saying something comforting to her. The hounds were about to leap at us when Cadvan started speaking to them in the Speech.
It was only a matter of moments before the dogs turned back to their masters. But I saw something more important. Maerad was trembling from exhaustion and looked like she would faint. She stumbled.
"Maerad!" I cried as she started to fall but Cadvan caught her elbow. He glanced at me swiftly before turning back to Maerad.
"I'm sorry to drive you, Maerad, but we cannot rest here tonight," he said. "Gilman's hounds are not danger to us, but other things are. This is an unwholesome place. And already it grows dark."
Other things? Automatically, I scanned the whole valley for signs of danger but found none. What other things?
"It's safest if we keep moving," said Scipio.
Cadvan and Maerad started talking about her past, but I didn't want to hear it. Memories were pain, a remembrance of what wasn't there anymore. My mother and father, Pellinor, Afinil…
"You're from Innail?" I asked Scipio quietly. I could feel his eyes boring into the side of my face, but I kept my eyes straight ahead.
"Yes," he said finally; his voice was melodic and had a slight accent I had never heard. "I come from a family of carpenters and am the only Bard in the family. I was sent to Innail."
I nodded.
"Innail is beautiful," I said softly. He looked at me swiftly.
"You've been there before?" he asked and I nodded.
"A long time ago," I said wistfully. I was eight summers old, a year before Pellinor was sacked and I was taken as a slave."
"So you're nineteen summers old," he said and I nodded. "What was your mother's name?"
I hesitated before answering.
"Her name was Ileana," I said. "She had unnaturally long life, even for Bards, even though she wasn't a Bard. She was pierced by a blade in the battle of Pellinor."
Scipio nodded in what seemed to be understanding.
"I outgrew my parents and siblings," he said. "My youngest and last sibling died two summers ago."
We walked in silence for a little while but I was startled completely by Cadvan suddenly starting to sing. He had a very good baritone. He sang a couple of verses before resuming his talk. I couldn't help but giggle and Scipio shot me a questioningly look.
"Does he usually break out in song?" I asked, still giggling. Scipio smiled crookedly.
"Not usually but with the company of such lovely companions, I'd be saying he feels confident."
Not expecting the compliment, I blushed and looked down awkwardly. I hadn't been looking where I was going, so it was a complete surprise when a tripped over a lump and fell down with a crash. Thankfully, my skirt hadn't been lifted. I looked up to see that the lump I had tripped over was actually an astonished looking Cadvan, sitting down.
I looked at Cadvan in shock before a deep, rumbling laughter followed by the tinkling bells of a female's laughter rang out. I looked irritably at Scipio and Maerad.
Scipio plopped down next to me and opened his mouth but I got there first.
"Not a word," I warned him and he snapped his mouth shut, though a smirk still graced his handsome features, making me scowl.
Cadvan drew out a long bottle out of his pack.
"This helps weariness," was his only explanation before drinking some. He gave it to Maerad, who drank some, and then she gave it to me. I raised it cautiously to my lips before taking a cautionary sip. It was like a fire spark had gone down my throat and into my body. I took a generous gulp before passing it to Scipio.
Maerad kept asking Cadvan more questions about Barding while I idly looked around. I saw Scipio looking fiercely at the Landrost.
"What's wrong?" I asked him and he shook his head before turning to me.
"Nothing," he murmured.
"What are you and Cadvan doing here?" I asked him and Scipio looked at me sharply.
"Business from Norloch," he said dismissively.
"Is that where we're going now?" I asked. "To Norloch?"
"Maybe," Scipio said thoughtfully. He plucked a blade of grass and twirled it in his hand.
"We should move on," said Cadvan suddenly and we all stood up before resuming our pace. My legs felt like lead and I grimaced.
The more we advanced, the more Scipio and Cadvan looked like they would collapse. Scipio's face was a mask of pain and he looked like he was walking through water, though Cadvan hid his emotions better.
"Do you think that Roisin and I might be Bards?" Maerad asked.
"Didn't you hear anything I told you?" Cadvan said shortly.
"I'm already a Bard," I said, and they all looked at me, making me shuffle my feet nervously. "Well, a Minor Bard of Afinil. I was instated when I was seven."
Cadvan sighed.
"Well that's one more load off our shoulders," he said before turning to Maerad. "Maerad, I must ask your patience. I contest the will of the spirit of this place, which would not have us leave this place. It bears down on me and Scipio, and it gets worse the farther we go."
The walking was sluggish, with Cadvan walking slowly and Scipio needing to stop every few minutes to catch his breath. As we got nearer to the end of the valley, Cadvan and Scipio got slower until even Cadvan had stopped altogether. Scipio had collapsed on the ground.
Maerad reached out to take Cadvan's hand as he fell to the ground, though she immediately dropped it, like the touch had burned her.
"What is it?" Maerad gasped.
"You can feel it?" asked Cadvan, wincing.
"Something," Maerad said. "Something terrible…"
My brow furrowed. Something horrible? Maerad took Cadvan's hand again and now all three looked to be in pain, making me feel graceless. Cadvan and Maerad slowly got up.
"Roisin," winced Cadvan, looking like he was breaking Maerad's hand in his. "Help Scipio up."
I nodded, glad to be able to do something instead of standing like an idiot, and grasped Scipio's forearm to try and pull him up. And then I felt it; it was like something cold and cruel was trying to crush my mind.
I yelped in pain, but I had miscalculated Scipio's weight and instead of hoisting him up I fell to the ground next to him. I was too painfully thin.
Cadvan was looking at me.
"You can also feel it?" he said, looking completely astonished. I merely nodded.
"Help Scipio," Cadvan said urgently. "He's much younger than me and is suffering."
I hesitated before carefully pulling Scipio back on his feet. He looked gray and slouched as he stood, nearly falling back. I stepped closer to him and wrapped an arm around his waist to support him. Sluggishly, he draped an arm over my shoulders and I held tightly with my free hand to his hand.
It was slow walking, though Cadvan and Maerad went faster than Scipio and me.
"Roisin," Cadvan gasped painfully from in front of me. "Hold it back! Command it to retreat!"
What? Command it to retreat?
I was completely bewildered, but even more so because I felt a different presence in my mind. It wasn't the cold force that was forcing itself in my mind but more like a gentle connection. Curious, I mentally prodded it.
In a moment, a blur of memories passed through my head. I could make neither head nor tail of them, though I knew they weren't mine and some stopped a second or two longer, long enough for me to make out what it was.
Cadvan's face, a city of white stone surrounded by a wall, an older woman's face, looking worriedly, me and Maerad this morning in the byre.
I realized they must be Scipio's memories and drew back quickly.
"Command it to retreat!" Cadvan yelled at me again, and he grasped my shoulder hard enough to make me wince.
I did the only thing that seemed would make sense.
Get out of our heads! I yelled in my head as loud as I could. Go away! Get!
The pressure in my mind lessened so it didn't feel like something was about to crush my lungs.
"By the Light," Cadvan said. "That is some Gift you both have. Especially you Maerad. Now perhaps we will be able to leave."
The valley came closer and closer but I couldn't bring myself to care. All I wanted was to sleep. Scipio had finally come out of his trance and could walk fine, but we still leaned on each other, out of both exhaustion and the tiring effect of shielding our minds. Maerad even twisted her ankle at one point.
By the time we reached the end of the valley, I was half delirious with exhaustion and could only concentrate on breathing steadily and walking, half dragging, on.
"We're out!" Maerad cried when we reached the end. I smiled wanly at her.
"But still we must walk! Even in shadows, the Landrost has power."
I groaned and Cadvan shot me an annoyed glare.
"We are all tired, Roisin," Cadvan said impatiently. "But we must walk to a place I know we can rest at peacefully."
Before we started to march into the forest, I looked back at Gilman's Cot, far away. I had so many terrible memories there, and I just wanted to forget it all, like it was just a bad nightmare and I'd wake up and be nine years old again, with my mom wiping my hair from my sweaty forehead.
I sighed and steadied my grip on Scipio's waist, before turning back to the forest and starting to walk in, determinedly looking ahead and not behind.
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