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Chapter 2

The morning after I learned I was an orphan, I awoke at daybreak. I had slept under a tree by the side of the road and I was numb with cold and with grief. With the rising sun in my eyes I began my eastward journey. By this time I was faint with hunger, so when I saw a farmer's cart I felt like leaping, but could only manage a small skip. When he got close enough, I called out to him above the rumble of the cart.

"Pardon me good sir, have you any food in your cart?"

"Aye miss, I've got a full harvest of apples I'm taking to market. How may I be of service to thee?"

My mouth watered at the thought of crispy apples, I drew out my purse and said, "I'll take seven please, and thank you for your kindness."

The old farmer took my money and handed me a small sack with my apples nestled inside.

"Where might you be heading, miss?" He asked me.

"To Denbar, good sir."

"That's a pity, I'd give thee a ride, but I'm headed into the sunset today."

"Thank you for your offer, but I don't mind a walk."

The farmer raised his eyebrow and said, "It's more than a walk, young miss. 'Tis more of a pilgrimage. It will take thee a month or more to reach it by foot. Perhaps you'll be wanting a few more apples?"

"Nay, but I thank you for the kind thought. Good Day, sir."

"Good luck, miss!" He called out, and snapped the reins on the back of his mule.

As his cart clattered away I pondered my desperate circumstances once again. I was now in possession of seven delicious apples, which I began to munch as I walked. I knew my bearing and distance; East for a month. Beyond that my future was a vague uncertainty. I determined to walk as far as I could each day, and if I ran out of money before reaching Denbar, I would work for food as I continued to travel. There were villages scattered throughout the countryside, and I was confident I could succeed. Well, fairly sure at least.

A few days later, as I sat beside a nearly frozen stream trying to wash the dirt from my hands, I was suddenly overwhelmed with a crawling feeling on the back of my neck. Someone was watching me. I whirled around and choked back a scream when I saw not one, but five surly, dirty, gaunt men. My heart was racing. I had no way to escape. I tried to think calmly about the gypsies surrounding me. Papa had told me about the nomadic people that roamed the country. He had said, "They're not all bad or good, Addie. They are people, just like us. Don't go judging someone by their circumstances."

It was so hard not to judge them. They looked mean and filthy. But I held my tongue until one of them spoke.

"What's a young thing like you doing alone in the countryside, eh?" His voice was low and gravelly.

"I'm on a journey sir," I responded.

"Where might you be heading then?"

I hesitated to tell them my destination, so I was intentionally vague, "East."

"She's a clever one, there," said another of the men. I couldn't decide if he was admiring my answer, or making fun of it.

"Well, lass, we happen to be heading east ourselves. Would you care to join us?" The leader asked.

I certainly did NOT want to join a scraggly bunch of dirty men. What kind of girl did they think I was?

My head was already shaking when I noticed other people emerging from the deep shade of the forest canopy. Women, and children. They were dirty and haggard too, but seeing them made me feel less threatened. I thought of traveling on my own for a month, or being in the relative safety of this group. I quickly turned my shaking head into a nodding one.

"Thank you for your kind offer of company, I believe I will join you for a time." I said politely. An old woman beckoned me with a wrinkled and leathery hand. As I walked to her she gave me a small nod and a slight smile. I began to feel at ease, just a tiny bit. The men filled several waterskins and the women and children briefly washed their hands, faces and feet in the icy cold waters of the stream. Then, not ten minutes after their arrival, we were all off again.

As we walked along, I stuck close to the woman who had smiled. I was silent, but my curiosity was building inside me.

Finally I spoke, "What might your name be, Madam?"

"Eh? Oh, my name. Hmm, it's a flower, yellow and white. Nothing regal, but a delight."

A riddle, I love riddles. I began to think of flowers. Rose? Campanula? Lily? No, those were all royalty among blooms. A simple, delightful blossom. I had it. "Daisy!"

"Aye lass, you are a clever one, just as Jonas said." The woman patted my arm gently.

After so many days of solitude the touch of another person sent warmth all through me. This woman was an angel in the guise of a gypsy.

"What might your name be, then?" She asked, looking up at me. I'm not more than 5 feet and 2 inches, but this woman was at least 6 inches shorter than me.

"I'm Addeliene . . . Addie," I told her with a smile and a small curtsy as we continued walking.

"Addeliene, you say. That's a rare and beautiful name. I heard of a Queen Addeliene, back when I was a lass younger than you. But that was in Denbar, where I was born. Seems to me that her kingdom was gobbled up bythe kingdom of Lyon and she was forced to give up her royal title. It's all a bit misty in my head these days."

My eyebrows shot up in surprise as she told me of an unknown queen from the past that shared my name. It is true I had never heard of another Addeliene in my childhood. I wondered where my parents had ever heard the name.They had both lived in this area forever. Papa had taken me on walks to his favorite childhood haunts. He had shown me caves and secret streams and even the rotten scraps of a tree house built by himself as a child. And Mama had told me countless stories of a simple childhood spent nearby. She had known Papa since he was a wild boy in too-short breeches. She was as pragmatic as any other farmers' wife, although a great deal more genteel in her manner. They must have heard the name from a traveler coming through the area before I was born. I tucked away the tidbit about a queen with my name in a corner of my busy brain.

I decided to ask Daisy about Denbar, without revealing my intention of traveling there.

"What is Denbar like, I have heard it's full of forests and . . . sheep," I couldn't think of what I'd heard about Denbar. It was the other side of the world when I was small. Papa had mentioned it from time to time, along with a frowning face and the word "taxes".

"Well, that's not how I'd best describe it, dearie," said Daisy with a soft chuckle. "It's part of a vast kingdom that stretches even to where we are right now, the kingdom of Lyon. There are deep forests, glistening waterfalls, pristine valleys, and rugged mountains. The sea touches Lyon on the Eastern border, and the endless desert stretches across the western edge from north to south.

"What of the capital city? I've never heard much about it. Did you grow up there?" My interest in her was genuine. I had only limited exposure to people beyond the borders of my parents lands.

Daisy told me of a beautiful city of whitewashed buildings that shimmered in the morning sun. The palace was elegantly situated on a small hillock. It was graceful and settled, as though comfortable in its place by the sea. She said the sea was near enough for a daytime visit, and that the gardens in the city were a sight everyone should behold at least once in their lifetime. Gardening had always been a hobby of mine, and I was excited by this promise of such dazzling beauty to greet me after my long, arduous journey.

Daisy became my surrogate grandmother during the next weeks. As we traveled I began to see the wisdom of Papa's words. These gypsies represented all types of personalities. There were some who were as ill-tempered as they looked, but there were many who had kind dispositions but were careworn by their nomadic lifestyle. I could no more judge them by the way they looked than I could judge the length of a carrot by looking at the top. I had to dig to find the treasure beneath the earth, and I found I had to look beyond the threadbare clothing and reticent manner to see the colorful tapestry of life within each individual.