Deadly Fate [Book 1 of the Teadai Prophecies] Page 12

  “I only wish there were more trees around here.” Eletha’s blue eyes flashed and she flipped her flyaway hair to her back.

  Adelsik felt another surge of jealousy. Henny was two years younger and Nym just a child. When would the Goddess call her? Why hadn’t it happened yet? Most of her childhood, she had been afraid of anything to do with Gypsies, but now she longed for that acceptance and to be special. She wanted to know what the calling would give her. What it was like to have middlings fear her. No one had ever been afraid of her, not even children in her province. Most flocked around her, especially young girls, and she loved the attention. Her beauty was an asset, like her flaxen hair, but why did she have to look so young?

  Maesa now sat near the wall playing stones with Nym. Haranda, Eletha and Henny chatted with Kal and Zarenia, so Adelsik scooted back from them and stood. She crossed out past Thad and Saldia into the night air. The stars were bright and morning still a while away. She missed her mother and older sister. Her father had died when she was young so his brother saw to their care. Her mother had always been there for the children, despite the nursemaid’s help. Yet she had given Adelsik away so quickly when Haranda came with news of Gypsy folk. Adelsik’s own mother seemed afraid to touch her, and the look on the woman’s face would haunt her until her final days.

  Tears sprang from her eyes as she sat in the chilled sand and rested her head on her knees. Confusion swirled in her like a vortex. She had been shunned by her own family, yet she longed for them. Why would her mother do such a thing? How could she? Adelsik was her daughter, her youngest, her babe. How could any mother do that to one born of her own flesh? Especially a woman whose first duty was to her family? It would’ve been easier if Adelsik had been stolen by the Gypsies as a newborn, like the tales suggested, at least then she wouldn’t feel this way.

  Pressure in her chest caused her to swallow hard and a lump wedged in her throat. She wanted to wail, beat her hands against the sand and pound out her anger, fear and disappointment. She thought of running toward the dark water and gazed out over the blackness. Stars dotted every area of the sky and she longed to be part of them. If only she could fly away, leave everything behind her.

  Her head fell onto her knees again and she closed her eyes, allowing tears to trickle onto her skirts. After a while, the wetness seeped through to her knees but she didn’t care. The night air was cold and she shivered but didn’t move inside to get warm. Her clothes were sandy and her skin sticky from the salt water she’d bathed in prior to bed, but that didn’t trouble her, either. Not now. Sobs pushed from her body and she rocked herself as she wept, while the crashing waves accentuated her frustration.

  A hand pressed down on her shoulder and she jerked. “You all right, youngling?” Haranda said in her ear. The Gypsy sat next to her and wrapped a blanket around them both. Adelsik nodded but her chest tightened, bringing more tears. The Gypsy stroked her hair. “I know this is difficult, especially for you. The Goddess tests us, youngling. That’s how we know we’re worthy.”

  Adelsik threw her arms around Haranda and bawled.

  Chapter 11

  With her toes pressed into the wet sand, Saldia sat on the rocks that formed a pier and drew in the sand with a stick, counting each circle she made. She’d never had so much freedom to just sit and think and she found it delightful. Circles gave her a sense of calm and she continued them as her thoughts turned to her calling. What gifts would the Great Goddess would bestow on her? Part of her was still surprised the Goddess would choose her, a simple tavern woman. Her turn must be close, since the others were now being called. There must be a reason the Goddess waited on her, especially since she was older than the other’s besides Thad and Haranda. At twenty-four, she had experienced much more of life too. She thought of the healer.

  Thad looked older than everyone, even Haranda, yet he was still a youngling and took orders from the Gypsy, so perhaps the Goddess kept things unpredictable for a reason. Saldia enjoyed Thad’s soft voice and gentle manner the most. She had thoughts of marriage but hadn’t found any man to her liking and wondered what he would be like as a husband. Probably tender in bed, respectful of a woman. Most men who frequented the taverns were either already married or only interested in instant pleasure. Saldia had planned to learn all she could about tavern business, save her coins, and buy into an establishment one day. A virgin tavern owner could surely snag a decent husband.

  Children would happen after marriage. They always did unless precautions were taken with herbs and potions, or a woman had the unfortunate luck of being barren. Saldia would care for any children her husband gave her, not abandon them the way her family had done to her.

  There were those who said she would never amount to anything except a tavern whore. Saldia wasn’t a whore and never would be, but anger had pushed her to save money just so she could one day buy her own tavern. She would treat those who worked for her with respect. Saldia had known such respect in one tavern where she worked, and it was owned by a woman, Mistress Greelee. The woman didn’t allow whoring in her establishment. Instead, she offered clean beds and hot meals and women to dance and sing with. She doted on her girls and kept them in food, clothing and shelter as long as they obeyed tavern rules and kept men from their beds. Saldia liked the old woman and was saddened when she died of heart failure. Her son took over the place and wasn’t the pleasant man he pretended to be around his mother. He pinched and groped the girls, whispered vulgar things in their ears, and threatened to throw them to the streets if they protested.

  One night, he slinked into Saldia’s room. She awoke to find him on top of her, one hand clamped over her mouth while his other wandered freely over her body.

  “You belong to me,” he had said. “I’ll take what’s mine.”

  Saldia needed the work but she just couldn’t give her body to a man that way if she had any choice. He wasn’t a large man, and she managed to get a leg free and put a knee in his tender parts. She’d grabbed her things and was gone before he could recover. That was the last she ever ventured into Prog. Now that she would be a Gypsy, part of her longed to find that little weasel of a man and punish him. Her circles had become deeper in the sand, angrier, and she lightened her grip.

  Movement caught the corner of her eye as Maesa stepped from the cave and headed in her direction. The bird-faced girl wasn’t as annoying as Adelsik but both looked down on those less fortunate. Maesa had avoided Saldia since her forced apology at the Flindering farm.

  She saw Eletha near the cliffs again. The calling didn’t take that fiery temper from the little woman. The treewalker seemed to get Maesa’s hackles up and the two spent many of their occasions together squabbling, which annoyed Haranda but amused Saldia. Though she didn’t think it wise to laugh in front of the Gypsy. Before Maesa reached her, she turned her attention on the sand again.

  “May I sit?” Maesa said, as she brushed her frilly skirts that now had spots of sand and dirt and torn lace.

  “Of course.” Saldia smiled up at her and squinted. Perhaps Maesa would try to grow up after all. Her immaturity wasn’t entirely her fault. She had been coddled like most wellborn girls, taught proper manners and cottony memorizations to look good on a wealthy man’s arm, and instructed not to speak to those of a lower station, except to give orders. “I was just wondering what my calling will reveal. Seems to be a scourge since we arrived.”

  “I agree.” Maesa gingerly sat and gathered her skirts around her legs. “So, what do you think your aspect of the Energy will be?”

  “I don’t have the slightest idea.” She drew two more circles with her stick then added, “You?”

  “I don’t know. I just wish it would happen.” Maesa sighed.

  Saldia studied her. Though the girl was marriage age, she sulked like a child when things didn’t please her. “Haranda hasn’t said pouting will bring the calling any faster.” She smirked at the girl.

  Maesa straightened her back and narrowed dark eyes. “I wasn’t
pouting.”

  Had Saldia been hired by this girl’s family, she would have to put up with whatever Maesa told her, but she was no servant. “Of course you were. I’ve seen you do that a lot. Your face is a map, Maesa. You’re upset because Henny got the calling before you. You may be marriage age but you behave like a child.”

  She would like Maesa if the girl acted her age. Adults could handle taunts and Saldia often quipped with those she favored. Besides, she told the truth right now. Haranda treated Maesa as she did Adelsik, Henny and Nym.

  The girl turned sharp eyes on her. “Just because I enjoy spending occasions with Henny and Adelsik, doesn’t mean I’m a child.” She left out Nym, but the two of them played his game of stones quite often.

  “Perhaps. But Haranda sees it that way. And so will most.” She tapped the girl’s leg with the stick.

  Maesa squealed and rubbed at her leg. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  Saldia fought laughter. The swat wasn’t painful. “Just making a point.” She narrowed her eyes. “You squeal like an infant, Maesa Reman.” This one definitely needed to grow up.

  “I do not. And don’t hit me again or I’ll tell Haranda.” She huffed away and walked along the rock pier.

  Saldia ignored her and decided to take her own walk along the beach, counting each wave that came in. Eletha still stood near the cliffs. Her hands caressed jutting roots and branches and a smile donned her lips. Had Saldia not known better, she would think the little treewalker mad.

  The water calmed her and the sun floated just above the horizon now, a large orange brilliance. They had eaten night meal early, at Haranda’s request, and Saldia had no chores until morning. She squinted as she made her way toward clumps of dried seaweed. Haranda had forbidden them to wander too far and said she could sense if anyone did. Saldia decided to test the Gypsy’s abilities. Though she berated Maesa for her childish ways, she longed to do what was forbidden.

  With her food fully digested, she ran up the beach and back down in the waning light to exercise her legs but careful to keep an eye out for Haranda’s marker. Younglings—the term still intrigued her—weren’t allowed past the tallest stone of the ruins above, so Saldia raced a few steps past and turned back. She did this several times until Haranda stepped from the cave and placed hands on her hips. Blazes! The Gypsy had told the truth. Saldia ran back and forth a couple more times, feigning ignorance of the marker, and watched Haranda a heartbeat. When the Gypsy didn’t make a move toward her, she flopped onto the sand, breathless, and began to pluck shells with her fingers. One by one, she tossed them into the approaching waves until the Gypsy went about her business again.

  Very close. And exciting! Why did it excite her that she’d disobeyed, ever so slightly, and gotten away with it? She giggled to herself like a disobedient child. Must be the sea air. Makes me giddy. Or perhaps she had been around the fancy girls, as Eletha called them, much too long.

  After a while, she tired of counting and tossing shells. The sun had dropped below the horizon so she headed back toward the cave to prepare for bed. That’s when she saw Maesa. The foolish girl now sat at the end of the rocky pier as waves lapped over her skirts. Why had Haranda not sensed her?

  “Maesa!” Saldia didn’t dare walk along the rocks now. It was nearly dark, the tide approached, and the pier too slick, even in bare feet. The dark-haired girl didn’t answer. “Maesa Reman!” Still no answer. She ran to the cave where Haranda sat with Henny. “Maesa’s on the rocks. The tide’s coming in.”

  Haranda took to her feet in a heartbeat and headed outside, followed by Thad. Saldia went with them to the pier. “I called her but she didn’t seem to hear me.”

  Haranda placed hands on her hips. “Maesa Reman! You look at me, youngling!”

  Maesa turned to the Gypsy.

  “Get your backside off those rocks!” Haranda sounded almost frantic. “Now!”

  Maesa didn’t hurry as she stood and walked toward them. She slipped and stayed on her feet, but Saldia sucked in a breath anyway. The girl continued with her head swinging back and forth, as though she searched for something.

  That’s when Saldia saw what looked like a shadowy boot floating in the waves. Maesa spotted it and appeared as though she would dive in after it. Was the girl mad? Saldia grabbed Haranda’s arm. “She’s going to jump.”

  “No!” Haranda pulled her arm from Saldia’s grip and stepped onto the pier. “Maesa! Come here now! Now, youngling! Do you hear me?”

  Saldia was certain Maesa heard. How could she not? The fish could probably hear the Gypsy, even above the crashing waves. By Maesa’s unhindered movements as she walked toward the shore, Saldia had a feeling Haranda used her urging Energy. When the girl was close enough to reach, Haranda trapped her arm and yanked her face down onto the sand. The waves came closer and the girl started to crawl out toward the water. She cried out, and Saldia flinched when she saw Haranda’s palm aimed at the girl’s hide. Saldia wondered why Haranda didn’t simply shake the girl to get her attention now that she had her off the rocks and away from danger.

  Suddenly, Maesa came to her senses and snapped her head to the Gypsy. “Stop! Please, stop!”

  Haranda knelt beside her and stroked her hair. “My apologies, youngling, but the calling has you.”

  Maesa wept and started to get up when she collapsed onto the sand.

  “Get that boot, Saldia.” Haranda pointed to the water. “But be careful. Thad, help me get her to the cave.”

  Saldia tucked her skirts into her waist belt, waded into the salty water and retrieved the girl’s boot, which had drifted close to the shore. She could see the outline of the other one, but it was too far for her to reach safely, especially now that the water quickly grew dark. Maesa’s stockings were nowhere that she could see, so she walked back to the cave and placed the single boot near the fire.

  Despite its roominess, the cave felt cramped now. The healer fussed over the unconscious Maesa. Even asleep, the girl reminded Saldia of a bird, perhaps a raven, with her sharp features and dark hair. A pouting raven from the way her bottom lip jutted out when she was unhappy about something, which seemed to be often. As Thad placed his hands on the girl’s forehead and wrist, Saldia wished for a heartbeat that she lay unconscious under his care. She shot a look to Haranda but the woman’s concentration was on the prone girl.

  Despite what the Gypsy thought of her, and the years working in a tavern, Saldia hadn’t let a man bed her. She had been pinched, caressed, groped and kissed in every conceivable way – what tavern woman hadn’t – but regardless of men like the weasel in Prog, Saldia had kept the loins of her womanhood pure. She had fancies of men quite often but a virgin bride was more desirable. She’d had her eye on one particular man back at Wandering Hog, a widowed shop owner who frequented the place. Perhaps she should have bedded him. He paid a good price for light-haired women, or so Saldia had heard, and a virgin would probably delight him. He might have even agreed to marry again. After all, a man needed a woman around for bedroom pleasure, didn’t he? And a wife gave pleasure freely.

  From the way Haranda hovered and kept strict rules on sleeping arrangements, Saldia doubted these Gypsies would allow younglings to bed each other.

  Thad Macwinnough was different from most men who frequented the taverns. He was soft-spoken and respectful. And Saldia had never known any man who knew herbal remedies. Healers were always women, at least where she had been.

  Thad attracted her and she thought perhaps she might bed him, if she could ever get him alone. After all, they were both beyond marriage age. Despite his youngling status, he had to be somewhere in his middle thirties, though he acted a bit naïve on occasion. Saldia had noticed his arms whenever he had his cloak off. Strong and muscular, no stranger to hard work, despite his healing abilities. Yes, he looked quite scrumptious just now. A nice heat filled her loins and she smiled, thankful Haranda had her eyes elsewhere.

  Maesa groaned and she forced her thoughts from the healer as
she scooted near to watch the girl pull from sleep. The others gathered around quietly. Then Haranda asked the same question Saldia had heard with the others.

  Maesa gave the Gypsy a thoughtful look. “I wanted to get my shoes and stockings. I had to get them. Where are they?” Haranda gave her a questioning look as she helped the girl sit. Maesa snapped her head, bottom lip jutting out. “You hurt me. I remember that.” Observing eyes studied the Gypsy and gave Maesa the look of a bird that had noticed something unfamiliar.

  “Yes. The calling had you and I had to keep you from throwing yourself into the ocean. Many times, pain is the only thing that works when the calling takes us.”

  The girl frowned. “I still hurt.”

  The Gypsy offered a sympathetic smile. “Thad will heal you, youngling. But first, I need to know what your calling brought. Why did you feel the need to save your shoes?”

  Maesa pursed her lips. “They were drifting away. Would have become lost. And I just had an unbelievable desire to get to them. I don’t understand it, either. I’m sorry. What’s my Energy? I’m not going to be a cobbler am I?” That seemed to disgust her.

  Haranda laughed. “I’m not aware of any Energy used in shoe mending.” Her face grew serious. “No, it’s something more.”

  Saldia nearly jumped when Maesa reached out to touch her cheek. “Are you all right, Saldia?” the girl said. “You look distraught?”

  “I’m good. Just thinking.” She’d been worrying over Maesa and it must have shown. Her face became hot when all eyes shifted to her. Blazes, she wanted to disappear! It was one thing to draw attention with wit, but quite another when others showed concern, especially Haranda. Saldia didn’t like anyone to pity or coddle her. She agreed with Eletha on that point.

  “Are you certain?” Maesa brushed her hand across Saldia’s cheek.

  “Yes.” She had to get the attention back onto the girl. “But you’re acting a bit strange.”