Chapter 2
The fine dirt under her feet was pleasantly cool, the path lovely and fragrant with the sweet smell of proilis in the air. She took another look behind her, confirming the
meadow and its bustling people were nowhere about.
Worry worked its way into her throat. Maybe if she waited here for a bit.
What? The meadow would turn up?
It had to be just beyond the trees. She listened to the sounds of the shifting limbs overhead creaking in the light breeze, leaves rustling against each other. Something scampered among the undergrowth to her right. Birds twittered and tweeted. There were no human voices, and there should have been.
Children had been chasing each other around wagons and squealing as they avoided a friend’s grasp. At least two dogs were barking just moments before with an adult yelling for them to shush. Laughter and chatter.
She heard none of those sounds.
The path meandered through the trees until it wound out of sight. Her lips twitched, and she refrained from chewing her lip. Stahn should show up any time, barging around tree trunks and through the vines and undergrowth to find her.
She’d only taken a step; perhaps she had walked forward more from surprise. Maybe this was the end of the path, and what she saw ahead was the way back. But she’d only taken the one step before she turned around. She was certain.
She looked one way, then the other. The path should lead somewhere.
The legend of the Kavin Cut made her pause.
Don’t be silly.
A bee buzzed over her head and landed on a nearby flower. She watched it crawl inside, disappearing into the deep pocket of the bloom.
It’s just a story.
Then how was it she saw the trees march aside and the path roll like an unfurled hall runner toward her? Was she on the Kavin Cut? Would a castle be at the end of it?
She spun around and peered among the trees. “It’s absurd.”
There was no such thing as a chant that could make a forest create a path. Had she dreamed this up? She was prone to being in her own little world and missing whole conversations.
Oh, sure, I totally ignored the dancing circle and chanting idiots twirling around me to daydream. And about what?
She looked down at her dress and fingered the soft material. She put on this garment this morning. So not in bed dreaming.
Kambry took a step forward and dug her toes into the loose dirt. She didn’t even have her shoes. She strode forward and stopped, her eyebrows creasing. Looking behind her, she noted her footsteps, shallow indentations. Ahead of her the pathway was smooth.
She glanced tentatively to either side. Even if no one had walked here for a day or two and the breeze smoothed the loose ground, animals and insects would have left a mark.
She swallowed. “Stahn,” she called, her voice sounding uncertain, a match to the insecurities tightening her neck and shoulders.
The birds ceased their calling. Only the insects still hummed among the blossoms. Hers was the only human voice.
As beautiful as the proilis blooms were, the vines had tiny thorns. She didn’t have any idea which way the meadow lay, so diving into the woods didn’t seem smart. But there was the path. It must lead somewhere. She eyed it, and a deep distrust
for a path that appeared between shifting trees threatened to keep her standing there indefinitely.
The birds took up their calling to each other again, cheerful whistles not at all concerned about a path showing up out of nowhere and closing off the only world she knew. Her stomach growled. She hadn’t even had any of the late lunch laid out on the tables. All those early potatoes her mother had cooked. Her mouth watered at the thought of the shared remains of their winter supplies combined with the summer bounty.
She settled her shoulders and gazed ahead. Onward then. At least her feet would be comfortable. If she didn’t think about being lost, the dark tree trunks and full-leafed limbs decorated with the proilis vines and their long purple petals really were a pretty sight. It was a lovely day for a walk in the woods. If only it wasn’t unintended, and she could change her mind and just walk back to the meadow.
After an hour, even the soft ground wore on her patience.
How would Stahn find her after she’d walked all this distance? She stopped and looked at the surrounding trees. The Kavin Woods was not a forest of substantial size. After walking for so long, she should have come to the other side. She didn’t really know its size, but everyone said it was not an expansive forest. She spun around, and the path ended just a few feet behind her. Had she gone anywhere or had it rolled up behind as she’d hiked? Whatever the answer, there was no going back.
A vibration trembled beneath her feet. A faint pounding, as if horses were running along in the distance. She could almost hear them, she was certain. She strained to catch the sound. And then she heard it, even the nicker of a horse. Were they coming along the path, this skinny cut through the woods? How could horses, several by the sound of them, make their way on such a tiny track?
She hurried forward, and the path widened as she jogged until it was several feet across. Far ahead, around an especially wide old oak, two horsemen galloped and pulled at their reins
upon seeing her. Their horses danced about as they came to the sudden stop, the men yelling behind them for others, she supposed, to slow. Two more riders rounded the bend, and then what looked to be a harnessed pair of perfectly matched, black horses stopped just past the trees at the curve in the trail.
Uniforms of black with red piping over the shoulder seams and down the outside leg graced all four riders. Three men and one woman: one man looked to be in his forties while the others were early to midtwenties. Each looked at her intently, as if curious to capture every detail of her appearance.
Kambry tried to spy around the backside of the tree, expecting to see a carriage, but she saw nothing between the trunks but more trees and underbrush.
The first rider, the older man, dismounted and approached her. “You will come with us,” he said, his voice gentle.
She shook her head even as she realized she would have no choice.
He smiled at her as if she were a child. “You are expected. We have a curricle and driver to take you to Kavin Castle.” He gestured behind him. “You’ll be comfortable.”
“I would much rather go home, but the path seems to have disappeared.” She hated that her voice trembled, and she couldn’t make herself look him in the eye.
“This path only goes to the castle. Please join the guard driving the curricle.” He reached out to her but did not touch her. Instead, he held his hand open in the air, inviting her to come with him.
With no other option offered, she stepped around the man and hurried past the other riders. Beyond the wide trunk, she saw another guard sitting in an open, two-wheeled carriage with bright yellow paint and narrow black scrollwork curling in double lines along the outline of the well-kept convenience. Even the spokes of the wheels were yellow with shiny black accents.
A loop of metal hung from the wagon tongue at the front of the curricle. When she set her foot into the loop, the guard
who had spoken to her steadied her with his hand on her elbow. She glanced at the driver, a uniformed woman with her blonde hair in a bob just above her collar. She nodded at Kambry but did not smile.
Kambry sat down, smoothing the skirt of her dress under her. She looked at her feet on the footboard below and grimaced. Dusty shoes were one thing, but dirty feet were another. She gave the driver beside her another quick glance and caught her raising her eyebrow at Kambry’s feet before she looked straight ahead and jostled the reins to get the team to turn about.
Two of the outriders trotted ahead, and the other two took up the rear. The driver, other than giving a snort and the curious look to Kambry’s dusty feet, said nothing as they rolled into the turn. They hadn’t gone more than a hundred feet when the trees thinned out, and soon the path became a high narrow road of piled rock with dangerously sloping edges leading toward a gray stone castle on a rocky prominence. The two-wheeled vehicle rattled over the cobble road.
The woods surrounded the castle on three sides from below a steep rise. The fourth side had a causeway of piled stone leading down to a town about three times the size of her village. They were on the only high road leading from the woods, at least on this side of the walled castle.
How could all of this be inside Kavin Woods? It boggled the mind. Why would such a tiny pathway lead to this well- trimmed road? Kambry studied the landscape. No other roads intersected it.
She turned in her seat to look back the way they had come. Other than the continued presence of the woods behind them, there was no sign of the path. “How often is this road used? It’s doesn’t seem to have a purpose.”
The driver looked at her and stared without expression.
After a moment, she said, “This is its only purpose.” “What purpose is that exactly?”
“You said the chant.”
“Not really.”
“You did not sing the chant?” “I recited it to some friends.”
The guard’s eyes narrowed. “You did not ask Kavin Wood to open the cut for you?”
“No.”
“Then how did you get in?”
“The path appeared, and I think it pulled me in.”
“Then you sang the chant.” The guard looked straight ahead, the discussion finished.
Kambry shook her head, crossed her arms, and gave the closed-minded guard a glare.
The curricle crossed to the halfway point along the high road, the terrain slanting sharply away on either side.
She looked down at her feet, rolling her eyes as much at the dirt that clung to them as the frustration she felt. “I didn’t sing the chant. My friends did. They thought it would be fun. It wasn’t.”
“Your friends.”
“My brother’s friends, actually.” She huffed. “They stuck me in the middle of their circle and sang and danced around me.”
“You should pick better friends.” “I know,” she whispered.
“You’re in a bit of a mess.” Kambry looked up. “I am?” “Yup,” said the driver.
She kept silent until they entered the gate, pulled aside by two stout guards. “Where are you taking me?”
“To see the prince who rules Kavin. He will decide your fate.”
“What does he usually decide?”
This time the look on her face was considering. The guard chewed at the inside of her cheek, then said, “It’s not for me to say.”
“Couldn’t you just take me back?”
“Oh, yes, put me in the wrong and save yourself. Of course, you would expect me to be disloyal to my prince. No, you’re facing up to your own mistakes.” She slid the reins into one hand and put out her free hand. “I’m Lessa Veed, prince’s guard. I’ll be making sure you stay here as long as the prince requires.” Her expression was not friendly. In fact, she looked determined to make sure Kambry didn’t return home or anywhere else she would like to go if it wasn’t at her prince’s request.
Kambry ignored the outstretched hand and swallowed the lump in her throat. “Is he a nice prince?”
Lessa returned her hand to the reins. “He was once, but don’t let him fool you.”
“What do you mean?”
Lessa looked like she wished she had said nothing. “Forget it.”
Arriving at the inner bailey gate, Lessa pulled the curricle around to line up Kambry’s side with the deep stone wall. The lead guard returned to give Kambry a hand down, but it was Lessa who directed her through the gate. Two of the guards followed, the others taking care of the horses and the two- wheeled vehicle.
Inside the castle foyer, Lessa paused. The lead guard leaned forward to whisper to them. “Perhaps a visit to the lady’s cabinet before seeing the prince is in order.”
Lessa nodded, looking as if his suggestion eased her concerns.
Kambry looked to her for an explanation, but Lessa was already searching the hall with an intent eye.
“This way.” Lessa tugged her forward and down a wide hall to the left. As they trod along the carpeted hardwood, she observed the actions of the servants as if looking for someone.
“Where are you taking me now?” asked Kambry.
Lessa just waved a careless hand at her in answer and continued to examine the servants in the hall.
Maids and footmen bustled about, but it wasn’t until an older woman in a simple, well-kept gown and apron exited a room to their right that Lessa paused.
“Mrs. Kauper, thank goodness. I need your help,” she announced.
Mrs. Kauper’s hawk-like features focused first on Lessa. She seemed surprised until she gazed at Kambry and studied her from the top of her head to her unshod feet. “Who have we here?”
Lessa pressed Kambry forward. “We found her on the Cut. I don’t want to bring her to the prince without a bit of a cleanup.”
Kambry raised her chin and smoothed her expression so she didn’t look as unsettled as she felt.
Mrs. Kauper’s gaze lingered on her dirty feet, before returning her attention to Lessa, who appeared to be waiting on a verdict.
Kambry felt her face flush. What is it with people’s attention to my feet? Everybody has a pair.
“Come with me, dear.” The woman took Kambry’s hand, patting it, and said to Lessa, “You tell Sybil she’ll be presentable in a few minutes.”
Lessa visibly cheered. “Thank you.” She strode down the corridor as Mrs. Kauper tugged Kambry down a secondary hall and into a bright room.
Almost like magic, four women entered the room, each with a unique item they set on a plain table. Before Kambry could assuage her curiosity about what they were, Mrs. Kauper
grasped her shoulders and forced her to stand straight and look her in the eye.
“Well, your face could use a quick wipe, your hair a brushing. The dress is in acceptable condition.” She stepped around Kambry, tugging at the skirt and examining the hem.
Kambry tried to keep her in view, but Mrs. Kauper’s hands, pressed against her upper arms, sternly faced her to the front, an obvious order to remain still.
Lifting a back portion of Kambry’s dress, she gestured to one woman. “Nell, take care of that,” she said before continuing around until she was in front of Kambry again.
Kambry raised her brows, and Mrs. Kauper smiled kindly. “I am sorry if this makes you feel like a prize cow, but you have an audience with the prince. We have little time, so please be patient.”
Behind her, her dress was tugged, and Kambry looked over her shoulder to find Nell busy with a damp cloth, patting it on the white material.
She faced Mrs. Kauper when she tapped her cheek. Setting a finger under Kambry’s chin, she tipped it up.
“Let me see your teeth.”
Kambry pulled her lips open, showing her teeth. Her hands clutched each other.
“Very good. No worries there.” Kambry’s stomach growled.
“Ha,” said Mrs. Kauper. “We’ll take care of that after your visit with the prince and Sybil.”
“Who is Sybil?” Kambry asked.
“Later.” She glanced down, and Kambry followed her gaze.
Of course, we’re back to my fascinating feet.
Nell finished at just that moment, and Mrs. Kauper guided Kambry to a seat. One of the other women in the room brought
over a tub for her to place her feet in.
If the examination of her person and dress had been embarrassing, having her feet cleaned by a stranger was far worse. Though she wanted to look away and pretend it wasn’t happening, she couldn’t help but watch the process as if it was happening to someone else.
The efficiency of their actions almost reduced the embarrassment Kambry felt. It appeared to be all in a day’s work to them. One exited the room without a word or expression that could add to Kambry’s discomfort. The second took up a damp cloth and daubed at Kambry’s face and neck and then left the room, as well.
Before the door could close behind her, a girl of perhaps ten years old, wearing a black uniform somewhat similar to the guards, entered the room and strode up to Mrs. Kauper and waited, her hands clasped behind her back. Mrs. Kauper turned to the page and cocked her head as if to listen to what she might say.
The girl handed her a folded note. Mrs. Kauper stepped back, read it and looked at the girl as if she could confirm its validity. The page shrugged.
“Well,” she said as if she were saying, “How very interesting.” She gave Kambry’s now clean feet a curious look. “So it shall be.”
Kambry lifted her skirt and glanced at her feet. They were just feet, no different from anyone else’s. She snuck a look at the various shoes worn by the others, confirming that in all likelihood her feet and theirs were the same.
Mrs. Kauper nodded at the fourth woman who had been waiting. This assistant advanced on Kambry, who scooted backward in her seat before bumping the backrest.
“Jannet, don’t change her hair. Just neaten it.”
Kambry relaxed. They would only smooth out her hair.
Her comb and the now wilted proilis blossom rested on the table. The woman behind her brushed her hair in sections
before gathering hair at the crown of her head and resetting the comb.
Mrs. Kauper sent the messenger from the room and stood by the window looking out.
For the hundredth time or more, Kambry wished she was a better conversationalist. Why didn’t they explain what was going on? It was obvious they knew the procedure. Why not share it?
“Why am I seeing the prince? Surely arriving at Kavin Castle does not automatically result in an audience.”
“Coming through the Cut does,” said Mrs. Kauper still standing at the window.
“Why?”
Mrs. Kauper smiled as she approached. She took Kambry’s hand and looked down at her. “It will all be clear when the prince and you have talked. Your arrival is unusual.”
“Is that good?” Oh, please let it be good.
“I can’t say. But it isn’t any worse, I don’t think.” Mrs. Kauper pulled on Kambry’s hand, forcing her to stand. “I believe you are now a version of yourself better suited to meet with the prince. Veed will return soon to escort you. Perhaps a glass of water would be helpful.” She cocked her head, and Kambry nodded.
In a moment, she had a cup in her hand. She hadn’t realized how thirsty she was until the cool liquid touched her tongue. She drank the entire glass. “Thank you.”
Just as she handed it back, Lessa entered along with the young page from earlier.
“Is she ready?” Lessa asked, already turning back to the door.
“Nearly,” said Mrs. Kauper, reaching out to the page who handed her a fresh proilis blossom. Its light, sweet fragrance filled the room.
She twirled her finger at the ground beneath Kambry’s feet, indicating she was to turn around.
“I don’t normally wear flowers in my hair. That isn’t necessary, though very thoughtful.”
“You must see the prince looking just as you arrived.” Mrs. Kauper twirled her finger again, and Kambry sighed and turned her back to the woman.
“Just neater,” said Lessa.
She felt the press of the flower under the comb. Mrs. Kauper patted her shoulder as Lessa opened the door. “Now, you see the prince,” the older woman said.
Lessa’s long legs took them along the halls back to the front foyer and into the audience chamber, which was a cavernous, vaulted room. Near the far end stood a solid square table and chairs to one side. At the very back sat a heavy throne carved from a pale wood. Dark wood in a vine-like design decorated the tall back. Black curtains hung as a backdrop behind it. A similar vine design in green embroidery embossed the hemline of the curtain. The purple proilis blossom bloomed at intervals along the stitching. The rest of the room was plain, except for a round stained glass window in the ceiling directly over the prince’s chair. It left a purple and green glow against the wall right of the table.
One would think the colors would be red and black, not green and purple.
“We will advance to the table,” said Lessa, keeping her voice down. “You will curtsey and hold yourself in that position until he acknowledges you.”
The prince paced in front of his throne while reading a scroll. He did not turn their direction until Lessa and Kambry were standing beside the table.
And even then, he did not acknowledge them, though Lessa left Kambry’s side to stand some distance away by a doorway at the side of the audience chamber. She was close enough for the prince to signal, but not be able to hear any conversation he had if he chose not to include her. Her bright
short blonde hair was a sharp contrast to the dark-paneled walls.
Kambry scrutinized the prince. He was younger than she expected, perhaps of a similar age to Stahn. His doublet and breeches were both of black with various shades of red embroidery and brocade. Kambry had seen the chief speaker for House Kon, and his clothing was more elaborate than the prince’s, including a collar that stood high around his neck with points directed up nearly to the cheekbone. She always thought it looked very uncomfortable.
The prince wore a low collar of the same fabric as his doublet. His high black boots had a rounded toe. All in all, she thought his clothing utilitarian without appearing common. He wore his light brown hair to the collar where it curled every which way, left to its own devices. A braid pulled back from either side of his temples kept his hair out of his eyes. He wore no crown.
He tossed the scroll on the carved chair and faced her. His eyes were blue, his glance cold.
She retreated a step, having not expected his gaze to be so inhospitable. A movement near the door and out of view of the prince caught her attention. Lessa was curtseying repeatedly and nodding stiffly at her.
Kambry dropped into a curtsey and stared at the floor. She swore she could feel his hostile gaze. Her heart pounded. This was not going well at all.
His steps sounded on the stone floor as he approached the table. She held herself still and closed her eyes. Her immediate thought, Would he strike me? was silly, and soon drowned by a second. At what point should she look up?
A chair scraped along the floor, and she heard him sit down.
“Sit, please.” His deep voice was devoid of emotion.
Papers rustled, and she straightened and slipped into the seat across from him. Fearful of looking at him, she clasped her hands and stared at the well-polished table.
“Your name?”
“Kambry do Brode.” “Dobrode?”
She flicked a glance at him before looking away. He paused, his hand over the paper. A shiny ball of ink hung dangerously from the cut shaft of the quill tip.
“Two words. Do, d-o. Brode.” He wrote.
“The d is lowercase,” she corrected him.
He drew a line through what he had written and started again. “The B is upper case?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“For what purpose is ‘do’?” “Daughter of.”
“Kambry daughter of Brode.” “Yes.”
“Do you have a brother?” “Yes.”
“His name.”
“Stahn so Brode.”
“Stahn son of Brode.”
She nodded. His crabbed writing surprised her. She expected better from a prince.
“Do you know the history of the Kavin Woods?”
“I’ve read the legend, that no one who enters the Cut returns. Is that true?”
“You read?”
“I’m a scribe, but everyone in my village reads at some level.”
“Scribe?” He pushed a sheet of paper to her and held out his pen. “Write your parents’ names down.”
She took the pen and stared at the blank sheet. “And village.”
She wrote in confident strokes, and he came around the table to look over her shoulder.
“Brode so Kan, but your mother is Meesy do Runiya. Not bound in marriage?”
Though the question, said tonelessly, was not cutting, it annoyed Kambry. She looked for insult in his blue eyes. Finding none, she said, “My father is so Kon,” but the prince shook his head.
“He is of First House,” she said. “They do not give their name away, and it never changes. It is an honorable house and name. When Stahn and I reach majority, we will claim Kon.”
“Why would a woman of honorable House Kon escape to the Kavin Woods?”
Did she detect a note of curiosity in his tone? “I was not escaping. I had no desire to enter this part of the Kavin Woods.”
“And yet you are here.” He returned to his seat. “You write very well. You’re a scribe in your village named…?”
“Paddlyrun.”
“Write it down, please. I imagine, like Kavin Wood, Paddlyrun has a story.” He sounded amused.
She supposed it had a silly sound if one took the time to listen to it, but she’d lived in Paddlyrun all her life, and it was the village’s name. The quill rested in her hand.
“Did some Paddly fellow run round the town until he turned to butter?”
“No,” she said as curtly as she could muster. Then some inspiration she made no move to halt made her say, “There was a glorious battle on the site. Paddly fought, killing several of the enemy so quickly that the rest ran. It happened many
years ago, and few even remember the story, but I am a scribe and have read many of the histories.”
“Indeed.” He pulled the sheet and pen from her, dipped the tip in the inkwell and blotted it. Paddlyrun, he wrote and continued to write.
Kambry leaned forward and watched, with janglings of embarrassment coursing up her spine, as he scribbled her recounting of how her village got its name. Oh, my. She sat back and tried to find an excuse for the lie she told. There was a river that ran past the village. Paddly River. He looked up from his writing, and she pulled a smile on her face and nodded. His blue-eyed gaze lingered until she felt a blush rising.
“Other siblings.”
She shook her head. “We have chickens.”
“Perhaps later I’ll ask about the chickens.” He set the quill down and folded his hands. “Why did you request the Kavin Cut open to you? Were you in danger?”
“I didn’t; I wasn’t. This is a mistake. I would like to go home.” She stood up.
His voice went chilly. “Please, sit.”
She sank into the seat and clutched the table edge. He had been warming up to her, but now his voice carried an edge again.
“I didn’t sing the chant. My brother’s friends sang it, thinking it would be fun. We didn’t expect it actually to open.” Though perhaps Tia had. Why was that? “I’d like to go home, if you please.”
“I don’t please, and it is too late even if I did.”
He stood as if to go, but paused by her chair. “What does your father do as so Kon of the First House?”
“He leads the village council.”
“A highly prestigious position, I imagine.”
His voice nicked at every embarrassing emotion she had like a knife whittling away at her pride. She’d never said he was prestigious. He was a talented leader and well-liked. He was proud of his heritage without being prideful. How dare this prince of a tiny wood act so condescending! She stared at her hands. “He’s a kind man who cares about the people of our village.”
“And because I too care about the people of my land, you will remain until you prove we must expel you. It won’t take long.”
Kambry looked up. “What?” Her stomach chose that moment to rumble.
“I have duties to take care of. I’ll have food brought in. You may eat it here while the servants ready your rooms for you.” He signaled to Lessa. “Bring Kambry do Brode a proper meal, then see Mrs. Kauper about where her rooms are.” He turned to look at Kambry, his eyes still cold. “She is to meet with Sybil after her meal.”
He strode from the room without giving Kambry a chance to curtsey. No doubt he believed she thought herself too good to curtsey to a prince.