Griffin's Daughter (11 page)

“
All the staff loved your mother, Magnes, just as they love you. You will be sorely missed.” Jelena paused. “Are you absolutely sure…”

“
Yes!” Magnes cried, throwing his hands up in the air in mock exasperation. “I’m beginning to think you don’t want me along, and I have to say that my feelings are hurt.” He clutched at his heart dramatically and made a tragicomic face. Jelena laughed loudly, but she recognized Magnes’s intent. By deflecting her concerns with humor, he hoped to hide from her just how difficult the decision to leave Amsara was for him.

“
I’d better get going, then. Cook’ll be wanting to start the evening meal soon, and I really don’t feel like getting yelled at for being late,” Jelena said, a rueful smile playing about her lips.

“
Rejoice, Cousin. Your days of servitude are coming to an end,” Magnes replied, slipping his arm around Jelena’s shoulder as they headed along the wall walk towards the stairwell.

Perhaps so,
Jelena thought,
but am I trading an unhappy situation for something better, or worse?

~~~

This is the last time I’ll ever work as a drudge in some lord’s kitchen,
thought Jelena as she wiped up the last of the staff crockery. No matter what challenges she would face in the coming days, she felt sure of one thing. From now on, she would choose her own path.

The kitchen was quiet now. The rest of the staff had departed, their work finished. Only the kitchen boys remained. There were three of them, orphans all, and they earned their keep by turning the spits, tending the fires, and running errands. They made their beds by the main hearth, huddling together like puppies in winter, sprawling out on the stones in the loose-limbed way of young boys during the hot summer nights.

At present, they were hunkered down beneath the big chopping block in the center of the room, whispering and giggling. They ignored Jelena completely, as they usually did, unless she had a reason to speak to them, which was seldom. Their total absorption with each other would allow Jelena to pilfer the needed supplies much more easily.

She put the last bowl in its place and wiped her hands on her apron. She then made a show of going around and extinguishing the few remaining lamps, leaving the kitchen shrouded in gloom, only the red glow from the banked fire in the great hearth providing any illumination. Keeping a watchful eye on the chopping block, she went over to the door leading out into the yard. With a quick glance over her shoulder, she pushed the door open then shut it, dropping immediately into a squatting position close to the floor.

She held her breath and listened.

The giggling and whispering went on, uninterrupted. Cautiously, Jelena crept toward the pantry, keeping low and holding her skirts up to minimize the risk that she might trip and alert the boys that she remained in the kitchen. She made it to the pantry without being discovered and immediately set about the task at hand. Her apron would serve as a handy carry-bag. She removed it and spread it out on the floor, then proceeded to gather together a supply of small, easily carried food items—cheese, bread, apples, sausages, several slabs of salted and dried fish, a little bag of shelled hazelnuts. Her hand hovered over a pot of preserved sweet cherries—a treat she dearly loved—but she thought better of it and left it on the shelf.
Too big to carry, anyway,
she thought.

Piling the loot into the center of the apron, Jelena folded up the corners and tied them securely in a knot. She then crept to the pantry door to listen. The main room had fallen silent. She could just make out three shadowy mounds by the hearth: the boys, bedded down for the night. Just as she pushed at the door, one of them whimpered and sat up. Jelena froze, then waited anxiously until the boy lay down and flopped onto his stomach. After what seemed like hours to her fretting mind, the sound of snoring signaled that she could now escape.

Moving as quickly and quietly as she could, Jelena made her way to the outer door. Slowly, she pushed it open, wincing at the soft squeal of old hinges, and slipped out into the cool of the night. An owl hooted directly overhead, momentarily startling her and further fraying her already shredded nerves. She lingered a moment more, ears straining to pick up any sounds from within, but the three boys slept on, oblivious.

Clutching the bundled apron to her chest, Jelena hurried off toward the servants’ quarters, hugging the shadows cast by walls and buildings. The sounds of late evening drifted on the air—the laughter of off-duty guards playing at dice, the sweet notes of a lute floating from the half-open door of the great hall, the far-off squall of a fussy baby. Her nose caught the scent of night-blooming jasmine mingled with the odor of the stables. Of their own will, her feet slowed their nervous rush to a walk, then rooted themselves to the earth beside the closed keep door. Abruptly, a stark realization struck her like a hard slap across the face.

I’m really leaving.

These were the sights, the sounds, the smells of home. A home in which she was an outcast—despised by many, barely acknowledged by any of her kin, save one—but a home nonetheless. At Amsara, at least she knew where she stood, how she fit in to things. She had learned over the years how to cope with her lowly status, and had made, if not a good life, at least a tolerable one for herself. Now, she stood poised at the edge of abandonment of everything she knew for an uncertain future.

Jelena felt herself wavering and was shocked at the unexpected feelings of loss she had begun to experience.
Why am I feeling this way,
she thought.
Why do I suddenly not want to leave?

She dashed tears from her eyes in irritation. She didn’t want to leave Claudia…that was the problem. She couldn’t possibly have any regrets about putting Amsara far behind her. Besides, if she didn’t run, in two days time, her freedom would be taken from her, and she would lose the chance to determine her own destiny forever.

There’s the magic as well. Don’t forget that!
 She drew in a deep breath to steady herself, gripped the bundle of supplies more securely, and rounded the corner of the keep…

…
to collide headlong with a very hard shadow.

“
Gods! What the…Who is that! Speak up, right now!”

A wave of dismay, followed closely by fear, hit Jelena at the sound of Thessalina’s imperious command. The collision had knocked Jelena back several steps, and the bundled apron now lay in the dirt at her feet. She had to think fast. “It’s me, Cousin! Jelena. I…”

Thessalina cut her off before she could speak any further. “What the hell are you doing sneaking around at this hour, girl, and what’s that you’re carrying?” Thessalina stepped forward menacingly. She stood at least two inches taller than Jelena and possessed a warrior’s physique.

Jelena had good reason to fear her cousin. She bent down quickly and scooped the bundle back up into her arms. “It’s just dirty laundry. I’m planning to wash it myself tomorrow.”

“
You’re lying, girl. Give me that!”

Before Jelena could react, Thessalina had seized the bundle and pulled it from her arms. She dropped it to the ground, then bent down and with a few jerks, untied the knot to expose the pilfered food. “What are you doing with this stuff? You stole this food, didn’t you? Answer me!” Like a lioness stalking its prey, Thessalina unfolded her long limbs into an attack stance, poised to pounce.

The air was heavy with danger, and Jelena knew that she would need to think very fast in order to avoid catastrophe. “I didn’t steal anything,” she said, sidling slowly backwards. “I’m just taking some provisions for my journey to Veii. I…I was told that it might be a good idea to have some of my own food, that’s all. Veii is a long way from Amsara.”

“
Huh! It’s not that far. D’you really think that Duke Sebastianus isn’t going to feed you? He paid good money for you, didn’t he? Though the gods only know why he’d want a tink like you.” Jelena could feel her cheeks burning with anger and humiliation. She was thankful for the cover of darkness, for it hid her eyes from her cousin. If Thessalina could have seen the hate that smoldered there, she would have beaten Jelena for sure. She clenched her hands into fists and prayed that the blue fire would continue to remain dormant. If Thessalina were to discover that she possessed magical abilities…

Thessalina prodded the half-opened bundle with one boot tip. Even in the dim starlight, Jelena could see the ugly expression of contempt twisting the other woman’s face. “I still don’t believe you, but I’m too tired to deal with it right now,” she said. “You’d better get to your room, and stay there until morning. If I catch you sneaking around here again tonight, I’ll beat you senseless, and I promise you won’t have my silly brother to come to your rescue.”

Jelena’s body shook with helpless anger as she bent down to gather up the food and re-tie the apron corners securely. Thessalina turned and pushed open the heavy keep door. The flickering firelight from the hearth within briefly limned Thessalina’s form with a red glow, turning her shape into something demonic. As the door swung shut on her cousin, Jelena lifted her finger in an obscene gesture, knowing that she crouched just out of range of the slice of light spilling from the doorway, and thus was shielded from any consequences of her small act of defiance.

For as long as Jelena could remember, Thessalina’s animosity towards her had been consistent and unrelenting, and because of her lowly status, there had been little she could do to deflect it or protect herself from it. As she started off again towards the servants’ quarters, the food bundle hugged tight against her breasts, she swore that tonight would be the last time she would stand and take any kind of abuse from anyone.

If I can’t find my father, or if I do and he doesn’t want me, I’ll go off and find a cave somewhere and live alone. I don’t care, just as long as I can choose how to run my own life.

I’m done being a slave!

Escape And Awakening

There was not much to pack. She had very few possessions—the ivory combs that had been her mother’s, her father’s ring, a small bone-handled knife, a finely made leather pouch that had been a gift from Magnes. Almost all of her meager wardrobe would be left behind, for Jelena fled Amsara this night disguised as a boy. Magnes had provided the tunic, jerkin, leggings, and boots. He’d also found her an old leather cap that she could wear, but only if she sheared off much of her mane beforehand.

Claudia sat on the edge of her bed, watching Jelena and weeping silently as the
snick snick
of the shears filled the little room with the sound of finality, of the inevitability of separation and loss.

Jelena clipped one last lock, then laid aside the shears and brushed the loose hair from her head. Critically, she examined her raggedly cropped coils in the tiny piece of mirror. She swallowed hard as the reflection of a stranger stared back at her, a young woman with almond-shaped eyes, high cheekbones, and bluntly pointed ears. She felt like she was seeing herself—not looking at, but truly
seeing
—for the first time.

Will I look like an elf to my father’s people, or a human,
she wondered,
or will they look at me like almost everyone at Amsara does, with contempt because I am neither?

“
All o’ yer beautiful hair, all over the floor!” Claudia sobbed, wringing her hands in grief.

Jelena smiled gently. “You have complained my whole life about how difficult my hair is to deal with. Well, now it’ll be much easier. See?” She pulled the cap over her head with a small flourish. “How do I look?”

“
Like my baby who’s about to leave me forever,” Claudia replied tearfully. Jelena sat beside her foster mother and allowed Claudia to enfold her against the ample cushion of her bosom. Neither of them spoke for many moments. There was just too much to say, and yet nothing to be said. Both of them knew that this was the way things had to be.

Finally, Claudia pushed Jelena away and dried her eyes on the sleeve of her chemise. “You’d better get goin’. Yer cousin’s waitin’ on ye.”

Jelena nodded silently, and rose to gather up her things.

“
Oh! I’d plumb fergot!” Claudia exclaimed. She reached into a fold of her apron and drew out the strand of blue Kara glass beads that Jelena had worn to the ill-fated Sansa feast. She pressed the necklace into Jelena’s hands.

“
Heartmother, I couldn’t possibly…These were a gift to you from the duchess!” Jelena protested.

She tried to return the necklace, but Claudia’s hands fluttered away like fat, featherless birds. “No, no, child. I want you t’ have ‘em. Besides, what’s an old woman like me goin’ t’do with such things, eh?”

“
I’ll treasure them, always,” Jelena whispered, her voice hoarse with tears. She tucked the necklace into her bag where it settled down amongst the few other small things that she could call her own.

Claudia went to the door and held it open.

“
I love you,” Jelena said.

“
I love you, too, child. Be happy.”

Jelena exited swiftly, not daring to look back, afraid that if she did, she would be unable to leave. The sound of the door shutting behind her seemed to boom and echo within the narrow confines of the stairwell, more like a great stone crashing into place, instead of a humble wood door closing on a small room in which an old woman sat alone, crying for her lost child.