The Amber Legacy (8 page)

And then the scene morphed into a bitterly frosty night, and she was standing on battlements, gazing down on a dark sea of soldiers pocked by fires and torchlight. She was conscious of people beside her on the battlements, people she knew were her family but not her current family. When she raised her hands before her eyes she saw that they were wrinkled and mottled, the hands of an old woman, hands like Emma’s hands, worn by time, and the people beside her were her grandchildren. She knew all this, just as she knew that she was going to die.

‘Can you hear me?’ A shadow blotted the light. Meg squinted. A face formed. A man’s face. She sensed rather than saw details, but something in the shadowy vision told her he was young and handsome. ‘Take it easy. You’ve had a very nasty blow.’ She went to sit up, but a sudden throbbing headache held her down. She groaned. ‘I know how it must feel,’ said the man. ‘I’ve been knocked out twice.’ His voice was melodious and strong. She squinted against the light, but all she could make out were his blond locks and square shoulders. A hand pressed under her neck to cradle her head. ‘Here. Slowly. Drink this.’ A vessel touched her lips. Water. She
was
thirsty. ‘Not too quickly,’ he warned, and he lowered her head gently. She wanted to ask questions, but her head hurt too much and she was terribly, terribly tired. She closed her eyes.

Dragons weren’t real. She knew this as she knew the seasons. Yet she was standing in a crowd of terrified people milling in the courtyard of a castle, fires raging, bodies scattered through rubble, staring up at a warrior who’d mounted the battlements and was standing alone, sword burning with a fierce white light, waiting for the dragon to wheel and come again to attack the castle. And the massive creature flashed into vision, black wings like a fruit bat, eagle-like talons extended to snatch the warrior from his perch. And the warrior swung his sword with precise ease, and light exploded as the blade sliced through the dragon’s leg.

‘
C
an you hear me, Meg?’

She opened her eyes gingerly to find that the light had changed. It was dull and this time she was staring up at a thatched ceiling with dark wooden rafters. Strips of daylight peeped through gaps in the thatching. ‘Mum, she’s awake!’ She recognised Daryn’s voice. Then his face appeared.

‘Stand back a little,’ Dawn ordered. Daryn’s smiling face withdrew and was replaced with Dawn’s serious expression. ‘Can you hear me, Meg?’

‘Yes,’ she answered.

‘You’re a very lucky girl. Horseman Farrier found you and the horse. He brought you back. Why did you do that?’

‘Is Nightwind all right?’

‘The horse is fine, a few cuts.’

She closed her eyes again. Although her mother was still talking, Meg wasn’t concentrating on the words. Horseman Farrier found her. But the man who’d given her water wasn’t Horseman Farrier. She was sure of that.

Though she’d never seen the Queen, she knew she was standing before her, and all of her courtiers. The
woman was as old as Meg’s mother, and she was dressed in golden robes and a green cape adorned her shoulders. Her hair was gold, peppered with multicoloured gems. She was smiling, as if she was pleased to see Meg. Then her head rolled off, and so did the heads of everyone around her.

The rain came and went in six days, filling the wells, and lifting the river until it crept over its banks to flood the village market for a morning. Meg’s concussion eased, but she was as surprised as her mother at how the heavy bruising and the cut on her forehead healed and vanished within a day. ‘It mustn’t have been anywhere near as nasty as it first looked,’ Dawn decided as she wiped the eucalyptus healing ointment she’d bought from Emma on Meg’s skin.

‘Magic in Emma’s ointment,’ said Meg facetiously, but her inner mind questioned her disbelief.

‘It must be,’ Dawn agreed. ‘She knows more than we can ever hope to understand.’

‘I don’t feel sick anymore. I think I should get the plough into the soil,’ Meg suggested. ‘Where are Daryn and Mykel?’

‘Daryn is already turning the soil. He’s hitched the bullock by himself. You can rest.’

‘But I feel normal.’ Meg threw back the yellow blanket, climbed out of her bed and stretched.

‘You have the blessing of Jarudha on you to have recovered so quickly,’ her mother remarked.

Meg snorted and laughed. ‘Oh, sometimes you make crazy comments. Since when have you been religious?’

‘I’ve always believed in Jarudha,’ Dawn replied, smiling. ‘Faith is free and private.’

‘But you’ve never said anything to me.’

‘That’s because you’d never listen, girl.’

‘I might.’

Mother and daughter laughed. ‘I think you should rest for at least another day,’ Dawn advised. ‘Head injuries can be very unpredictable. It’s still raining on and off.’

‘At least let me help with some cooking.’

Dawn stared at her daughter, and giggled like a little girl. ‘That blow to your head must have knocked some sense into you.’

Meg poked out her tongue. ‘I still won’t wear a dress, so don’t get too many ideas.’

While the rains passed during the ensuing days, mother and daughter shared time cleaning and cooking and feeding the two bigger boys, who’d decided that they could do the heavier duties while the river was high and flowing quickly and fishing was too dangerous. Meg tended to Nightwind whenever she could go outside, using Emma’s healing ointment on the horse’s cuts. ‘You’re collecting an impressive set of scars,’ she said, as she brushed his grey coat one afternoon, under the cloudy sky.

‘He’s lucky he has you to care for him.’ Several paces away was a man dressed in a leaf-green tunic and light earth-brown trousers, with a khaki raincoat draped over his shoulders to keep off the light misty rain.

‘Who are you?’ she asked.

‘My name is Treasure,’ he replied in a formal manner. He bowed, and advanced a step. ‘I’m sorry to intrude on you, but my horse has injured his fetlock and I was hoping someone in your village had something I could use to heal him.’

He was handsome. His hair was light blond, and it hung down across his finely chiselled features. She’d never seen hair so light. ‘Are you a soldier?’ she asked warily.

He hesitated, and glanced beyond Meg in the direction of her home. ‘I am,’ he said.

‘Where are the others?’

‘Others?’

‘Others. The army.’

Treasure smiled. ‘Oh. No. See, I’m a scout. I’m sent to check things out before the army arrives.’

‘Then why were the others here a few days ago?’

The stranger was on guard. ‘How many others?’

‘A dozen.’

‘Where did they go?’

‘I’m not sure. I think they rode south. I thought if you’re a soldier that you’d know that.’

‘Towards The Whispering Forest?’

‘I’ve never heard of it.’

‘That’s where they would be heading,’ Treasure decided, as if for his own benefit. ‘Were they the Queen’s soldiers?’

‘They wore the golden serpent,’ she replied. He stepped back a pace and looked around, as if he was uncertain of his situation, and something stirred her memory. ‘Why are you so nervous?’ she asked.

‘I’m not meant to be seen by anyone. That’s what being a scout is about. Not even my own army is meant to know where I am, or to see me.’

‘That’s weird. How do you fight if no one sees you?’

‘I only talk to my superiors. I tell them what I’ve seen, and then they make their orders based on what I tell them.’

‘Do you fight?’

‘Yes. When I’m needed.’

His voice was familiar. ‘Did you find me in the gully?’

Treasure’s face creased into a warm smile. ‘Yes,’ he said.

‘Did you help Horseman bring me home?’

He rubbed his hands against his hips. ‘Horseman? No,’ he mumbled. ‘I was going to help, but a man from your village came and I had to stay out of sight. I stayed to check that you were in good hands, and you obviously were. I presume that’s who Horseman is? How’s your head?’

Meg raised her hand and held aside her red hair. ‘It’s all healed.’

Treasure’s expression showed genuine surprise. ‘That’s remarkable. It didn’t look too good when I found you.’

‘I think it was this ointment,’ she explained, holding up the small blue pottery container. ‘Do you want to take it for your horse?’

Treasure checked again that no one was watching them, and came forward. Closer, Meg saw that he had odd-coloured eyes, one blue like a hot sky, the other grey, like the smoke from burning fresh bark. ‘Everyone stares at them.’

She blushed and looked down. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘No, that is perfectly fine. I’m used to it. In fact, I like being different.’

‘Here’s the ointment,’ she offered, handing the container to him.

‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘I don’t want to sound too forward, but would I be able to get some food and drink?’

Meg looked back at her house. Her mother had the fire going. ‘You can come and eat,’ she offered. ‘I’m sure my mother won’t mind.’

He shook his head. ‘I can’t risk it. You wouldn’t be able to bring something to me, would you?’

‘I can try. Where?’

‘The gully where I found you?’

‘I’ll bring something there just before sunset.’

‘Thank you,’ he said, and he smiled and bowed. He checked the surrounding countryside again, before walking briskly towards the bush.

Meg waited until the stranger had disappeared into the mallee before she returned to brushing Nightwind. His secretiveness puzzled her. His voice was smooth and he spoke precisely, as if every word was important, and his accent revealed that he was not from anywhere in the local region. He was also fascinatingly handsome with his unusual eyes and white-blond hair. His mannerisms reminded her of Button, but the stranger was much more refined, as if acting and speaking politely were natural to him.

Button. Now that the soldiers were gone, she was surprised that Button and the other young men who’d gone into hiding to avoid being forcibly enlisted by the Queen’s army hadn’t returned to Summerbrook. Perhaps they were making certain the risk had passed. The stranger’s presence showed that their prudence was wise. She hoped Button was safe. She stopped brushing the horse, put him in the barn, and headed for the house.

Taking food and drink to the stranger was more complicated than she’d expected. The evening meal was still not ready as the sun sank in the western hilltops. Meg tried unsuccessfully to engineer a quicker preparation and finally despaired of taking Treasure a cooked portion. ‘I’m giving some scraps to the chickens,’ she told Dawn.

‘Take Peter for a walk,’ her mother suggested. Peter grinned eagerly at his big sister.

‘It’s still raining,’ she said.

‘No it’s not,’ Dawn corrected.

‘Peter will get a cold. And I’m in a hurry,’ Meg argued. She checked that her mother’s attention was drawn to Peter when he began to grizzle at being left behind, before she scooped carrots and an apple into her pockets. She also grabbed a chunk of pumpkin
cake. ‘I’m hungry,’ she said when she saw Dawn staring.

‘What about the rubbish?’ Dawn asked.

‘Oops,’ Meg apologised briskly, and she scooped the food scraps into her hands. She hurried towards the chicken run, which was always left open so that the chickens could roam, and dumped the scraps at the coop, before she headed for the gully.

The sun was setting the hilltops afire as she remembered Button describing the sunset. Where was he hiding? She realised she missed his attention and wondered if she was falling in love. The gully was in shadows when she reached it. She scrambled down a steep slope to save time, taking care not to spoil her cargo, and approached the spot where she’d tethered Nightwind the night of the storm. ‘I’m glad you came,’ said Treasure, as he emerged from the bushes. He searched the surrounding countryside, and apologised when he saw Meg’s uncertainty. ‘I’m sorry. I have to be very careful. It’s important that I’m never seen.’

‘Why did you let me see you then?’

With a disarming smile, he replied, ‘You were hurt. And you are very beautiful. I couldn’t leave you there.’

Meg blushed. ‘I’ve brought you some food. It’s not much. I couldn’t get cooked food. Mum was too suspicious.’

Treasure accepted her gift. ‘I am grateful. I’m very hungry. This is wonderful. Thank you.’ He leant towards her to kiss her cheek, but she pulled away. ‘Oh, sorry,’ he said quickly. ‘I did not mean to offend you.’

‘No offence taken,’ she said. She laughed nervously. ‘I didn’t expect you to do that. I mean, I don’t really know you.’

‘I understand,’ he said, smiling widely as if the whole situation amused him. Silence separated them for a moment. A murder of crows crossed the orange sunset,
heading for their rookery. ‘Do you mind if I start eating?’

‘No. I’ll leave you to eat. If I’m gone too long, Mum will start to worry. It’s probably been too long already.’

‘Do you know where the river bends south? Over a fall?’

‘Yes.’

‘That’s where I’m camping from two days after tomorrow. I was thinking that your horse needs to be exercised. You could bring him to visit me one afternoon. If that’s at all possible.’ He laughed. ‘That is, if you want to see me again?’

‘I’d love to see you again,’ she replied, and inwardly cursed herself for sounding too enthusiastic. ‘But I can’t ride.’

‘It’s not far. Walk him there, and I’ll teach you how to ride.’

‘I will. But where are you going tomorrow and the next day?’

He looked across the bush and said, ‘I have to scout some places. It’s not far, but I want to move carefully.’

‘Is it dangerous?’ she asked.

He laughed. ‘No. I’ll be safe. It’s routine work. I do it all the time.’

She hesitated, not really wanting to leave, but when she saw him staring she said, ‘I’d better go.’

‘Thank you for your kindness,’ he said, and when he leaned forward to kiss her cheek she let him. ‘I will wait for you in two days’ time—in the afternoon.’

Her body tingling, her cheek glowing at the point where his soft lips had pressed, she walked out of the gully. At the top, she broke into a gentle run, smiling as she trotted towards the yellow lantern light of her home, enjoying the cool air caressing her face and arms.

‘What took so long?’ Dawn asked, as Meg entered. ‘I was starting to worry.’

‘I checked Nightwind,’ she replied. ‘I think he needs to be exercised. It will be good for me to exercise him as well.’

Dawn lowered the dish she was wiping over the wash bucket. ‘That horse should have been given to the soldiers, Meg. If they find him here, they’ll say we stole him.’

‘We’ve got witnesses who will tell how we found him. If any more soldiers come to the village and see him, I’ll give him to them. But he still needs to be exercised. I could even learn how to ride him.’

‘Why?’

She met her mother’s querying gaze in the yellow lantern light, shadows playing on her face. ‘Because I’d like to.’

Dawn chuckled as she put down her drying towel to approach her daughter, shaking her head. ‘There’s no need to learn how to ride. Young women have nowhere to go on a horse. Even men in our village don’t have to learn how to ride. Where would they go?’

‘I thought it would be fun.’

‘Exercise Nightwind, by all means. But don’t do anything foolish.’

House chores completed, lanterns and candles out, her brothers and mother asleep, Meg climbed into bed. She opened a shutter on her window and looked out at the night where the moon and stars, hidden behind cloud, left the world in darkness. A strong, cold breeze ruffled the leaves and made the night sound as if it was in constant motion. Her attention was diverted by a padding sound entering her room, and a heavy shape leapt onto her bed. ‘Leave room for me,’ she whispered as the dingo curled up. She reached back to stroke Sunfire’s coarse fur, and she stared out at the night, thinking of the blond stranger with the odd-coloured eyes, wondering where he was sleeping and how he was
keeping warm. Her cheek still tingled, and she tried to imagine what his lips would feel like pressed against her own.

Before dawn, she woke from a strangely unsettling dream. In the dream, she had been standing on boards, wet, creaking boards, and she could hear material cracking overhead, as if it was catching the wind like drying sheets on the clothes line. Everywhere she looked she could only see water, dark grey and heaving water that reminded her of the river in very rough weather, and yet it stretched on further than she could ever imagine water could stretch. The boards beneath her were moving, rocking, and she was puzzled by the unsteadiness of everything in the dream. And she felt a longing like an emptiness that hurt in the deepest section of her heart, as if she had lost the most precious of her possessions, and that longing was drawing her across the eerie water. She sat up on her bed and stroked Sunfire’s fur, recalling the elements of the dream, puzzled by what she’d felt, until it faded with the darkness into sunrise.