Chapter 1
Diantha
‘Does he have to eat like that? He looks like a fucking cow.’
‘Just focus on your plate, don’t stare.’
‘Theres almost nothing on my plate to focus on!’
‘Pretend. Move your food around a bit. And chew slower.’
These aren’t two different people, they’re both me. They are the voices in my head. I think the first one is the real me. The voice I have always had. She is funny, and bold, and alive. If I allowed her to make the choices, to speak her mind, I probably would have been dead a long time ago.
The other voice is quite literally my voice of reason. Her job is mostly to tell the other me, the real me, to shut up. She is polite, and humble and she knows how to make herself small, how to go unnoticed.
Unlike my real voice, she has no pride that stands in the way of submission. She will bow, and beg, and say things like ‘I appreciate everything you have given me’ or ‘I am honored to be your wife’. If I lay it on too thick, he will see right through the act. If I don’t seem thankful enough, he will be upset with me. She knows just how he likes his ego stroked. Sometimes I think she is the voice of my mother.
I go back and forth with myself in my head, and then a third voice chimes in. This is not the voice of who I was, or the voice of what I am, it is the voice of who I am about to become. She is angry, and filled with hatred, she doesn’t have a sense of humor like voice number one, and she is not apologetic like voice number two. She shuts both the others up. Tonight she will kill my husband.
Berrymor
I stood in a narrow alleyway behind a tavern. The smell of stew, ale and fresh baked bread drifted from the kitchens back door.
I had been waiting for at least an hour. My own fault. I wanted to be early. This was the meeting place my escort and I had agreed upon.
I paced up and down, unsure of whether the clicking of my heals on the cobblestones made me feel better or worse, every time I spun around my cloak made a swooshing sound that I quite enjoyed.
The tavern must have closed for the night, because groups of drunk men stumbled by, laughing and cursing. I pressed my back against the wall, hoping that they wouldn’t notice me. To a young girl, alone and unarmed, well, sort of unarmed, a drunk man was the closest thing to a natural predator. I had no death wish. So, I leaned into the shadows and waited for the sound of their laughter to die out.
I was just about to release a sigh of relief when the kitchen door swung upon next to me. I jumped back yelping in surprise. The man standing in the door cringed away, taking up the most pathetic defensive stance I have ever seen.
“What the fuck!” I snapped at him, placing a hand to my chest.
“What the fuck me, what the fuck you! You’re the one lurking in the shadows! Do you have any idea how many times I’ve been robbed in this alley?”
He whisper-yelled at me, and I whisper yelled back. “I don’t know... many times?”
“None actually.” He shrugged, suddenly very casual. “But I mean, it is a very valid fear to have! What are you even doing out here?”
“I’m just, waiting for somebody. And he will be here any moment now so just, do whatever you came out here to do.” He seemed sober enough, but I still positioned myself to the alleys entrance, in case I had to run.
He just looked at me, awkwardly scratching the back of his head.
“I, uhm...”
“What exactly were you coming out here for?”
“Well, the uhm, the lavatory is quite far away so sometimes we come out here to...”
“No!”
“Yes!”
My face must have shown every bit of disgust I was feeling, because a smile began to tug at the corners of his mouth.
“Ugh! That is so gross!”
Now he was really enjoying this.
“Right by that wall you were rubbing yourself against.”
A devilish grin spread across his face, and he leaned against the door frame, waiting for my reaction. I would not serve as his entertainment for a moment longer. I straightened my shoulders and lifted my chin.
“By all means then.” I gestured towards the wall, “continue about your business.”
He looked from me to the wall, and then back to me, shaking his head.
“Mmmm, yeah, I’d rather not. Shy bladder and all. But good luck with your waiting. I hope your friend shows up soon!” He said it as if he didn’t believe me and turned back towards the kitchen.
“Oh, he will!” I yelled after him, childishly wanting to get the last word in. He only smiled at me over his shoulder as he disappeared back inside.
For the fifteen minutes or so that I continued to wait, I thought about the brief interaction. I came up with several better things that I could have said and scolded myself for only thinking about them now. The strangers face also seemed to have been burned into my mind. Strands of dark brown hair that fell over his forehead, a slim, straight nose. A sharp jaw, not too wide or too narrow. I couldn’t remember the color of his eyes, but they seemed kind enough. He was rather handsome. Not that I have seen enough men to make an accurate judgement.
“Berrymor?”
I startled at the rough voice that broke me away from my thoughts.
A broad figure strode down the alley. His face barely visible in the shadows of his hood.
“Curlew?”
This was the name that I was given, I don’t think it is his real name.
“What possible business could a sweet girl like you have at the front lines?”
I severely disliked the way he asked that question, but I was desperate enough to let it slide.
“I was told that no questions would be asked. I am paying you a hefty fee for that exact reason.”
The asshole snickered!
“About that fee...”
I was overly aware of every step he took towards me, and he was getting a little close now. I instinctively backed away. I was just about to retreat another step when my back hit the wall. Fuck
“We already agreed on a set amount, half now and half when we get there. Did something change?”
I tried my best to keep my voice steady but failed miserably.
“That is one of my options.”
He looked up for a moment, as if considering his options. My hands were clenched under my cloak, my gloves damp from the sweat.
“You see, nobody mentioned that you had such a pretty face...”
He was close enough for me to smell the beer on him now. I was a sheep staring into a wolf’s eyes. Face to face with my natural predator. He came closer still, lifting his hand towards me.
A sudden movement caught my eye as Curlew grunted and fell to the ground at my feet, revealing the stranger from the tavern behind him. He was holding some type of weapon. No. Not a weapon, a broom. He had hit him with the handle of a broom.
Curlew’s eyes were open, but lifeless.
“You killed him?” My voice came out squeaky.
“You’re welcome!” He was still holding the broom in the air, his eyes wide, his voice equally squeaky.
“He was supposed to take me to the front lines!”
“Yeah, I don’t think he had any intention of doing that.”
I mumbled a string of curse words to myself, as I shoved him with my foot. He was either dead or knocked out cold. I stepped over his body, beginning to pace up and down once again. Tavern-man lowered his broom, watching me warily. I pulled my hands through my hair, black curls tangling around my fingers.
“Are you okay miss?”
“I am fine. And thank you.”
I was not. I couldn’t think clearly. My hands were shaking. I was almost murdered, and my entire plan was completely ruined, and I did not deal well with plans failing or changing. It defeated the whole purpose of plans. My breaths were shallow, my fists clenched and unclenched repeatedly. I was having some type of stress induced episode.
The man moved in front of me halting my pacing. He leaned the broom against the wall and help up his hands to show me that he meant no harm.
“You need to go to the front lines?” He asked me gently, as if I might fall apart if he spoke too loudly. I probably would have.
“Mhm” it was all I could get out. Tears began to stream down my face, and I could feel a sob building in my throat.
“Well, I have good news for you! I am leaving to go to the front lines as well, you can come with me.”
“You are not!” I said, sniffling and wiping at my face.
“Yeah, I am! And you can just tag right along with me!”
He spoke to me as if I was a child. I don’t blame him.
“I don’t even know you!” I was a mess. A complete wreck.
“Take a deep breath, it’s okay! I will take you. No questions asked. We are going to go inside, and lock the door, because this guy isn’t going to wake up happy. And then we will figure eeeverything out okay?”
“Okay.” I agreed hesitantly.
By the time we were in the deserted kitchen, I had managed to get myself together, mostly. Tears were no longer streaming down my face, but my hands were still shaky.
“My name is Jude Malrick.” He said, pulling a wooden stool closer for me to sit on. He overturned a wooden crate for himself. The kitchen was warm; coals smouldered in the oven and torches on the wall cast the room in hues of yellows and oranges. A large table sat in the centre of the room, littered with left over food and dirty dishes.
“Berrymor, but you can call me Berry.” I held out my hand for him, and shook it, smiling up at me from his crate.
“And thank you, for helping me out there.” I added quickly.
“You really don’t have to come with me. I was just shaken up out there and I kind of lost it for a moment. I appreciate your willingness to help, but I can’t possibly expect you to just leave your entire life behind.”
“Of course you can! I have packed up and left places for far less. I’m a traveller. I can’t stay in one place for too long, puts me on edge.”
I laughed at this; it was still strange to me that there were people lucky enough to come and go through the world as they pleased.
“No really!” He said, confusing my laughter for disbelief.
“I yearn for the road Berry!.”
He pulled a plate of pastries from the table, offering it to me. I took one but spoke before taking a bite.
“We were supposed to leave first thing in the morning. I need an escort because, well,” I gestured to my entire body “I’m a woman.”
“Right. You can’t cross any borders without a male escort. There are a lot of things about our current government that I don’t agree with. I can pretend to be your husband when we reach the border?”
“That is an option, but if I say that I’m married, I will need to get a head scarf. A married women without a head covering is just as bad as one travelling alone. It shouldn’t be an issue, I ca-”
“No Berry, scrap that idea. It will be unbearably hot by the time we reach the border. We will probably spend hours waiting in the sun for a chance to pass through. We can work on our story later; it will give us something to talk about on the road. There are black market traders that can get us false papers in just about every town we will pass through.”
Boy, it sounded like he had done this a million times before.
“You’ll really do this? You’ll come with me?”
“Of course! It will be my pleasure.” His voice was muffled by the pastries he was shoving into his mouth.
He walked me back to the inn I was staying at. Despite our rocky first meeting, I was coming to like Jude.
The feeling was short lived. By the time we met up the following morning, he was as unbearable as ever.
Aveline
“Sometimes, Gary, I wish I was a butterfly.” I watched as the little insect fluttered away. Gary didn’t respond to my confession. Not because he is ill-mannered or upset with me. Gary didn’t respond, because he is a fish.
He is my closest companion, and yes, I do talk to him. Out loud. Yes I think he understands me, and no, I am not a lunatic. I have had him for as long as I can remember. I don’t know what type of fish he is, or what exactly his lifespan is, but I think he must be very old in fish years.
Today I have brought him out to the garden with me. Or at least, somebody brought him here per my request. (I am a princess; I do not carry things.) I broke a few crumbs from the ginger snap cookie I was eating and dropped them into his bowl. They drifted about halfway down before he gobbled them up. He swam around in tight circles, his way of asking for more.
“No more Gary! You will get a stomach ache if you eat too much.”
Ginger snaps are his favorite. He would eat every crumb that I dropped into the water, even if his little belly was full to the brim. I had to be the adult here, I ate the rest of the cookie.
The sun reflected on his scales, shimmering green and hints of silver and gold. He swam to the opposite side of the glass bowl, looking towards the wood. Lately, he always seemed to be staring towards the wall of trees that bordered on the castle grounds. Perhaps, he felt the same as me.
Bored of the same rooms, and the same gardens. Maybe he felt that strange tug towards the woods as well.
