This Week's Chapter
Chapter 6 (Prophetic Preparation)
The vault was as quiet and dusty as I remembered, with sturdy wooden shelves laden with old books, scrolls, and carved stone and wooden chests full of various kinds of treasure—much of it seeds, but some more traditional wealth.
The last time I’d been here, there hadn’t been a rucksack in the middle of the floor, though. What was it doing here?
A parchment scroll poked out of a pocket on the side, and I knelt to inspect it.
Someone had carved “Neli” into the scroll’s seal.
A shiver ran down my spine. Who would have left me a message in the pocket of a rucksack in this vault, where I’d never intended to come on my own? Who even knew that I could read? Rilla had taught me in secret because my parents didn’t approve of education for women.
Carefully, I eased the scroll from its pocket. As I touched the seal, a tingle of magic raced up my arm as if reaching toward my heart.
Was this some kind of trap? My heart thudded against my chest.
But I needn’t have worried. The moment the magic tingle reached my center it warmed and then disappeared. At the same moment, the seal cracked open, and the scroll fell open to reveal a letter.
Neli, my dear child,
For years now, my wife’s dreams have warned of a dire fate approaching my family this harvest season. I do not know what form it will take, only that few, if any, of my children will survive, and that in every dream, you are the one reaches my nephew with my will and the deed to our family land.
I have long since learned to pay attention to my wife’s dreams, so I have done my best to prepare. I have gathered and strengthened our farm’s defenses, and I hope that will be enough to avert the worst of the disaster.
However, if you are reading this, my other plans have failed, and all is now up to you. You will find the relevant papers you must deliver as well as provisions for the journey in this bag. I regret that I cannot do more for you.
May the Creator look on you with favor and protect you on your journey.
Yours in Him,
Ambrose of Riverside Farm
I read the letter twice, three times, before the meaning sunk in. I’d barely known the man who was to be my father-in-law, but he had always been kind to me in his gruff, quiet way.
He’d faced that dragon with brave fierceness—for all the good it did him, or his children.
A sob welled up in my throat. I hugged the rucksack to myself and let the tears come. For my father-in-law, for Khan, for Khan’s mother and the babies in the house, for Lark, even for Rilla, though perhaps she still lived.
Eventually, though, I gathered myself. I had a job to do, and I’d best be getting on with it.
To start with, I opened the pack to see what my father-in-law had left me.
The rucksack held a metal case for papers with the promised will and deed, but also the betrothal agreements, and a silversmithing apprenticeship contract for Talus Riverside (so that was the cousin’s name!). There was also a map, which suggested following the river until I reached Windy Harbor, which was where Talus had gone for his apprenticeship.
Beside the document case, the bag held two changes of clothing in my size, a tinder box, a stout knife, rope, hard tack, jerky, apples, a canteen of clear liquid, and a small bag of gold.
I changed, bundled my damp clothes into the bottom compartment of the rucksack, stored my letter with the other documents, and tucked the gold into an inside pocket of my undergarments, close to my heart.
Carefully, I erased all signs of my presence in the space. I hoped neither the dragon nor the soldiers would find this place, but if they did get in, I didn’t want to leave them any evidence that I’d been here.
Satisfied the vault looked as un-visited as the first time I’d seen it, I shouldered the pack and made my way back out of the tunnel.
It was well past time I set on my way if I wanted to reach Windy Harbor, find Talus, and return before the next full moon.
That’s it for now. Look for the next installment in this space–or in my newsletter. If you have a question or would like to leave a comment, click on the chapter post below and scroll to the end. (Comments will appear after I’ve checked to make sure it’s about the story or my books, not links to a site I wouldn’t want to send people to.)
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By the time soldiers cleared the farm, leaving only a handful patrolling the perimeter, I’d recovered enough strength to crawl from my hiding spot.
Part of me wanted to follow the main body of soldiers into the village, so my family could tend me in my exhaustion. Most of me realized, though, that any comfort in that course of action would be short-lived.
The king wanted this land for a pleasure ground—and if he gained control of Khan & Rilla’s family farm, that left only my family’s and one other that he couldn’t demand outright. Neither was as large as this one the dragon had destroyed, and neither had the forest or river access.
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With a dragon on the loose, they could even pretend that keeping people in the village was for their own good.
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But now—I was outside the patrol perimeter. I could take word to Khan’s cousin. I vaguely remembered a scrawny youth, about Khan’s age, but lankier, with unkempt hair and wild eyes.
I’d wanted to meet him properly, but before I could even learn his name, rumors about his Arkanian father had made his stay unpleasant, and Khan’s father had found him some apprenticeship in Wind Haven—near the sea. It would take nearly a fortnight by coach to reach him—and just as long to return, but the moon was new, so it was possible—if someone left now.
I could go. It might be dangerous for a woman traveling alone, but just as I was outside the patrol perimeter, so was Khan’s family’s vault. His father had taken us both to see it a few weeks past, showing us the family papers, and savings. The key he’d hung round my neck still hung there, under my clothes, its hard surfaces warming against my chest.
The vault would hold money and provisions for the journey and a will that named the cousin.
My family would worry, of course. If I didn’t arrive home, Cali would likely tell them she’d asked me to warn Khan’s family. My people might imagine I could have made it to the house—that what was left of me lay smoking in that ruin along with Khan’s mother and the little ones. Who would be able to prove otherwise?
Judging by the smoke that came off the house now, it would be too dangerous to enter for many days, maybe even a week. By then, even if my absence was discovered, I’d be well out of reach.
If I went.
I touched my chest, feeling the metal key under the damp fabric of my blouse. Its firmness hardened my own resolve.
I could do this. I had to do this—for myself, for my family, for my village, and most of all for Khan’s family.
None of them deserved the disaster that came on them this day, and I wouldn’t let their life’s work and memory dissolve into another one of the king’s innumerable pleasure grounds.
Shakily, I pushed myself to my feet and stumbled deeper into the woods, toward the vault.
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