A Single Spark Page 3

  “There is no longer a life for us here.” He continued with a gentler tone, looking around to meet the gaze of each one of us. “There are no marital matches for any of you, as none wish to involve themselves with our problems. With every round of rumors, the willingness of other families shrinks all the more, and now there are none who will even consider linking their House to ours. There is but one choice left and we will take it. Begin packing your things, taking only that which is needed. The remainder of our things will be packed or sold and will be sent for once we are settled in a new home. We depart in two weeks.”

  A stunned silence filled the room, none daring to breathe as minds worked to comprehend the entirety of what he was saying. I could only stare at Father as the full magnitude finally settled on me, that pit of dread now a solid stone in my stomach. Leave Perinthas? Leave Taurova itself? This is our home! Our birthright! How dare he even suggest leaving? The sense of foreboding that had been gently squeezing me earlier now held me in a death grip and I couldn’t breathe.

  Rhian began to cry, though I had nothing left in me to provide her any solace. Brynmor slowly moved in behind her to rest a comforting palm on her shoulder, handing her a handkerchief. “H-how can you do this? I d-don’t want to move!” Rhian stammered. “I like living here!” She sniffled and took the handkerchief from Brynmor, dabbing at her eyes quickly, trying to hide her distress.

  Father gave his youngest a hard look, tone growing acerbic. “Yes, this has been our home for generations and while we are a proud noble House, what has it gotten us, child?” Rhian went quiet, cheeks flushing with embarrassment. His words were a stark reminder of the history of our House, each past generation had made it all the stronger both in wealth and influence. They had built so much from so little, but with the accusation that wouldn’t die, our House was vastly weakened, the power of our House diminishing swiftly.

  What if Father is right? What if there really is nothing left for us here? The silence in the room was thick, punctuated only by the sounds of the storm outside as Rhian had no defense to Father’s question. Finally Father continued softly. “We have a chance to make a fresh start...to begin in a place where people know nothing of these accusations and of our dishonor. It is our only hope of finding acceptance again and our only way to find spouses for you three, and prevent our family line from dying out entirely.” Rhian gave Father a miserable nod and looked down to her hands in her lap.

  He turned, looking now to the stone-faced Iolyn who sat rigidly with his lips pressed into a thin, angry line. Father’s voice was controlled as he asked for Iolyn’s thoughts. “And what objection do you have, son?” Iolyn gritted his teeth before saying tightly. “All of my friends are here and I am trying to gain acceptance into the Jewel-smithing Guild. I could become one of the greatest crafters of fine jewelry, Father, but that will never happen if I am uprooted and moved to some gods-forsaken town.”

  “I’m sure wherever we end up will have a forge and a hall where you can continue your hobby.” Father grunted, placing more emphasis on the word ‘hobby’. “As for your friends, they are lazy, gambling drunkards who prevent you from being useful. Good riddance to them!” He said sourly. Iolyn looked affronted, lips parting to argue, though his voice halted when he realized Father was right and he had no defense whatsoever.

  Father’s eyes fell to me last and dismissing Iolyn, his gaze holding my own as he awaited the resentment and anger that was sure to come, my temperamental opinion on why this was a dreadful idea and was clearly the wrong choice. He awaited my condemnation and anger, my indignation and outright refusal, and while I felt each and every one of those things, I was silent. Our eyes remained locked, and I had a clear choice before me. To object or to accept the move.

  A thousand thoughts ran through my mind, all the reasons to stay screaming at me, their volume equal to their reasoning. This is our home. We hold beautiful land in the provinces and we are highborn. We have friends and family that we would be leaving behind. Where could we possibly go where we would have a life such as this? I had studied our history, and now it played in my mind’s eye. Our House was established when the first settlers came to this land, fighting and dying to claim it as our home and despite all of our adversity, I couldn’t imagine leaving that legacy behind, not after everything my ancestors had fought so hard to achieve. This is our birthright...we cannot leave.

  The silence hung heavily in the room as everyone awaited my response. “I will go pack my things.” I said with a controlled calm that I did not feel. My words surprised even me, as all the reasons to stay seemed perfectly valid, but I knew they were not so much reasons as excuses, and in that split second I knew that leaving here to begin afresh elsewhere was what this family needed. At least, what Father needed. As our eyes held fast, I could see the flicker of relief in his eyes. “Rhi, Iolyn...I suggest you do the same.” I added, knowing that a word from me would do more to gain their acceptance of this change than any further arguments from Father.

  I left my family sitting in their dumbfounded silence, staring at my back as I departed the study. There was a lot to do in order to be ready in two weeks, and finally, as I reached my room, the foreboding lifted.

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  The pile of dresses on my bed had become frighteningly tall as I narrowed down my last choices of which to pack. How had I let Rhi talk me into purchasing half of these? I wondered in exasperation, most not even slightly to my taste. In fact, as I looked at most of my clothing in general, very little of it stood out as being inherently “me”. There were some colors that I loved, but perhaps it was simply dresses themselves that never felt like something I would wear if given an actual choice in the matter.

  Most of my things had already been packed tightly into trunks, my traveling coat and trousers laid out and ready to be donned in the morning. I bought new leather boots that would be more suitable for our long journey, often finding myself running my fingers over the supple leather in thought, musing about the many roads they would carry me on. But introspection aside, these were much more practical and comfortable than the slippers I usually wore, in fact the whole travel outfit I deemed to be more in line with my personal tastes than silk gowns.

  The wagons were being loaded slowly as the night wore on, everyone taking care of their last minute packing until the wee hours when the wagon drivers finally left. We were set to depart in the morning and I was understandably anxious, as leaving the city was rare enough on its own, much less leaving the kingdom. I had never left the realm entirely and so every nerve was stretched taut as I thought ahead to the dangers of the road ahead. The others seemed to be equally nervous and forlorn, most of the family and staff completing their tasks with little to no talk.

  At last I considered myself packed as well as I could be and pushed aside the mountain of dresses, sending a few silk sheaths fluttering to the marble floor. I made just enough room for myself to lay down, not even bothering to undress as I caught what little sleep I could but sleep was elusive. The pit of dread that had come with the storm two weeks ago never entirely faded, only growing as the sense of doom drew nearer and it left me restless and drained.

  I lay there staring up to the ceiling, torn in my desires. I didn’t want to leave and I clung to my life and to the memories that I had here. I had friends, though now as I reflect, I have come to realize the shallowness that I had mistaken for depth. My friends delighted in talking about men, parties, fashion, more men, and whatever voracious gossip they could dig up, none of it having any consequence in the larger picture of our world. Perhaps I was as small minded as they back then, my arrogance leading me to believe there was nothing of consequence past my own little world. Much to my shame, back then I never considered myself to be anything more than I was.

  At some point I drifted into a restless slumber, waking at first light. I rose wearily with a long drawn out groan, shedding my rumpled dress and changing into my travel attire. As much as I looked forward to wearing it, my trepidati
on of the journey ahead robbed me of the joy I might have found. The night of contemplation had awarded me with one thing, at least. I knew that my life here was lacking little hope of growing into anything different or better. The disquiet I had been feeling gave way and finally I knew why I had spoken the way I did the night of Father’s announcement. I knew even then that I had no true reason to stay.

  Everyone was quiet, if not sullen as we ate a quick breakfast and gathered the last of our belongings, anyone who dared to speak saying nothing above a hushed whisper as though afraid the villa itself might collapse at the slightest noise. I brought my last bag out to the courtyard where our entourage was gathering, handing it to Madox to load into my wagon. I turned slowly, finding this situation surreal, as though watching through disembodied eyes from someplace far away. The guards and staff who were coming on this journey with us moved off to their family and friends, beginning their muffled and tearful farewells to those staying behind. Others finished securing our belongings, and slowly began to mount their horses or board the wagons, readying to go.

  My Father’s voice rang out as he called out. “It’s time to go, everyone! Mount up, or find a place in the wagon.” He steered his horse around, having said his goodbyes in the privacy of our villa, unwilling to show such emotion in front of the Household who looked to him for strength.

  I should have suffered the heartbreak that the others felt, but I didn’t. I wasn’t entirely sure what I was experiencing at that moment. Relief, perhaps? Numbness? I took a deep breath as I climbed up to the seats in the wagon, taking a place next to a tearful, blotchy-faced Rhian.

  Pity filled me and I wrapped an arm around her in comfort. Change was never easy, but even less so for her. “Come now, Rhi.” I said softly to her, forcing an encouraging smile, thought it was a small one. “Think of this as going on an adventure like one from your books. The kind you always daydream about going on.” Rhian was not mollified and only narrowed her eyes at me irritably.

  “This isn’t an adventure, Carys.” She snapped at me in an unusual display of boldness. “This is a nightmare and I do not want to leave.” She huffed and turned her back to me, crossing her arms tightly over her chest and choosing to stare out over Perinthas and the harbor below.

  I could only sigh softly, not about to argue with someone irrational and irritable so early in the morning. My own eyes turned to take one last look at our villa before the wagons lurched into motion, the crunch of the wheels on the stones heralding our departure to anyone in earshot. Slowly our caravan of six wagons carried us through the winding streets of the capital before we passed through the outer gates and out of the city. Our lives were now at the mercy of the gods and all I could do was pray fervently they would provide something good for us.

  CHAPTER 4

  The first day of our journey was spent in relative silence, only my father making his round to engage in quiet conversation with the guards and family. He considered it his duty to speak with everyone, giving instructions and speaking of things to come, promising hope and a solid future once we settled in a new home.

  Our first week was more arduous than I had expected, both physically and emotionally. Rhian proved herself to be a most proficient pouter, spending her entire days in an impressive brooding silence. I wish I could lie and say her ability to glower even in her sleep didn’t impress me a little, but as she clung to her sullen mood for days, it grew tiresome.

  I was seated to watch the road behind us, relieved to watch the blackened jagged peaks that separated Taurova from Mor’aat Raan growing slowly smaller as we journeyed west. The eastern mountain range that acted as a border between the two nations rose from the lush greenery of the Taurovan woods in a harsh range of craggy, lifeless rock, and I was happy to put more distance between us and those dreadful lands.

  Mor’aat Raan was the stronghold of our greatest enemy; a permanent dark haze had long settled over their lands, and the superstitious swore the haze was evil itself. The god, Xeyruhn, known as the Dark One himself and second in power only to Kaeus The Creator, had claimed that land for his own, and had gained control of Yehket to the south by making promises of glory and revenge on their enemies in exchange for their loyalty. It had fueled the war for years, and I was comforted to know we were leaving behind the dangers that come with it.

  Other than Rhian’s consistent petulance, the moods of everyone else improved slowly as we continued through Taurova, thoughts turning from what we were losing to what might be gained with this fresh start. My own mood wavered as I discovered many things about a long journey that had not entered my mind due to my limited experience.

  The relentless bumping of the wagons on the road gave more aches and pains than the most grueling of horseback rides and I was certain that my backside would be permanently flattened from the wooden bench. The lack of shelter against the elements was tiring, and while the tarp which covered the rear and our baggage provided some measure of protection, it did not compare to an actual building. Being cold and damp with no way to dry off chilled me to the bone, and sleeping in tents on thin bedrolls were as brutal on a person’s body and soul as the jarring bumps of the wagon.

  On the fifth day we crossed the border, leaving Taurova behind to greet a new country, the mountains and hills of my homeland flattened into fields of gold as we crossed into the kingdom of Vjorgyn. The stems of wheat and oats bent and twisted in the wind, looking very much like the waves of the ocean that we had left behind. A sharp stab of homesickness hit me as I unexpectedly longed for the sounds, smells, and sights of the sea that I had known for most of my life, and now would likely never see again.

  The air warmed as each passing day took us further inland and today, the sun rose high in the sky and the smell of rich soil and growing grains filled the air around us. The occasional odor of livestock reached our noses as we made our way along the dirt road. noting farms and ranches dotting the landscape where spirals of smoke curled up from the chimneys. Carts laden with produce and bundles of grain began to pass us, steered by cheerful farmers who greeted us in Sirric, the common tongue. At last we caught our first glimpses of these Vjorgynfar that called this land home, and it seemed we were as strange to them as they were to us.

  They were shorter and stockier than Taurovans, their fair skin, and blond to reddish brown hair so vastly different from our darker coloring and I doubt any of us in our entourage could stop staring. I could count on one hand the number of blond-haired people I had ever glimpsed in my life, and I didn’t think I would ever tire of seeing the pale golden locks. Our lands might have been neighbors, but there seemed to be very little that we had in common.

  These people were primarily farmers and ranchers, the rolling hills and gentle plains the perfect environment for such agricultural vocations. From my economics studies, I knew that this realm was one of Taurova’s biggest trading partners for cattle, horses and grains, but beyond those, I had also heard the rumors of their legendary meads and ales, second to none in the world. I decided I would have to try some for myself, if we stopped in a town long enough to give me the chance.

  Three more days of travel took us to Kjaransvik, their capital, and I was amazed at its beauty. It was nothing like Perinthas, the vast majority of the city constructed out of wood instead of marble and tile, yet the Hall of their King was indeed a wonder, wrought with gold, silver, and bronze as well as magnificent tapestries displaying their history in vibrant pictorial form. Their Inn was more comfortable and spacious than I expected, and this was where we stayed for several days as we loaded up with more supplies and rested.

  We drew a fair amount of attention; our large caravan and trunk-laden wagons starting whispers of the wealthy Taurovans, quickly evolving into pointing and waving. We drew a crowd shortly after our arrival, the fair-haired Vjorgynfar stopping to stare openly at us, making me feel somewhat uncomfortable after only a few minutes. Rhian, on the other hand, loved it, offering the townsfolk warm smiles and polite nods. It turned out the
y were friendly and helpful, several folk taking the time in directing us to the Inn and stables and listing places where we could resupply.

  It had been only a little over a week since leaving home, but it felt more like years and I was deeply grateful for a real bed to sleep in again, out of the cold and sheltered from the wind and the rain. I hadn’t realized how much of a privilege it was to feast on a hot meal, accompanied by a vast selection of delicacies and wines I had never tried before. For the first time since leaving, the restless apprehension I had been feeling lessened.

  Tonight, however, was not one of feasting but enjoying a quiet evening seated in the corner of the tavern, enjoying our last night before our family departed once again. Brynmor sat across the table from me, the wood polished from many years of use and my fingers ran lightly over it while my other hand wrapped around a horn of their best ale. I had found a few opportunities to sample their renowned meads and ales, and none had disappointed me. I had always favored red wine, finding the bitterness of ale not to my liking. but these were such that presented themselves as true contenders for my favor.