Stronger than Bone (11 page)

(Present Day: 237 Cycles into the Light)

Charity watched her father practicing with his sword. He had been at it all day and he was sweating profusely. She could tell he was in even better shape than he had been in the hidden valley. All signs of softness to his body were gone. His muscles were hard and defined, and his shoulders seemed broader. She couldn’t help but feel proud of him for working so hard, and worried at the same time. There was something troubling him since the valley.

They had travelled continuously for many days, and then yesterday, he suggested they rest for a couple of days before continuing on. She could tell something was weighing heavily on his mind, but when she asked, he said it was nothing.

She watched her father practicing many times while she was growing up. He even taught her some basic swordsmanship, and she loved it. She didn’t know of any other girls who were allowed to learn weaponry the way her father allowed her. Now she understood the reason for it all too well. She shivered, thinking of the one time in her life she needed the strength and ability to wield a weapon, and she silently thanked God that her father prepared her for it. Charity knew that he saw things differently though.
“He probably thinks it was his fault that I was in danger, and that he is a bad father because he raised me this way.”

She turned back to her target and threw her knife again. With a solid “thunk” it hit the tree and stuck. She walked over and retrieved it for the hundredth time of the day and tucked it back into her belt. Charity sighed, tired and bored she called out to her dad, “I’m going to make us some dinner.”

Cuddles hopped up and playfully bounced after her as she left camp to collect firewood. Charity smiled and reached down, giving her a pat on the head before continuing on. Cuddles kept darting in and out of the bushes while Charity picked up dry, fallen branches for the fire. After a few moments Charity realized Cuddles had not come back after her last endeavor into the foliage.

“Cuddles,” Charity said in a conversational tone. “Come here girl.”

She stood still and waited for any sign of movement.

“Cuddles!” she called, louder this time. Still there was no response. Charity sighed. This was not the first time her dog ran off and ignored her calls to come back. The last time, she reappeared after a couple of hours, soaked and muddy, and grinning from ear to ear. She had obviously gone on a grand adventure and was entirely pleased with herself regardless of any worry it caused her owner.

Charity, had a pretty good load of firewood by then, so she turned and walked back to camp. When she arrived, she was surprised to see Cuddles sitting politely and soaking up affectionate attention from a beautiful, dark haired woman Charity had never seen before. Unable to reconcile what she was seeing, Charity stood frozen, eyes darting from her dog, to the stranger, to her father, and back. When her father noticed her, he smiled and beckoned her to come join him.

Charity had a flood of conflicting emotions running through her mind. On one hand she was almost brought to tears by the sight of a woman out here in the woods after all of the terror and roughness she had endured. She was growing up and she craved a woman’s companionship and guidance for a multitude of reasons. On the other hand she was suspicious and immediately protective of her father against this unknown woman who just magically appeared in their camp.

As she stepped closer and placed the pile of branches near the fire pit, she looked more closely at the woman.
“She really is beautiful,”
thought Charity as she took in the long, wavy dark hair and olive skin of this woman whose age was impossible to discern. The woman smiled and her brown eyes sparkled with sincere, motherly warmth. Charity’s heart melted.

“Charity, meet Ms. Joszette. She apparently has a cottage not far from here. Cud….your puppy found her while she was out collecting herbs and led her back here,” her father said. “Joszette, this is my daughter, Charity.”

Joszette stood and approached her gracefully. “Good afternoon Charity,” she said with an accent Charity had not heard before. “You are a very pretty girl. I can’t tell you how happy I am to find another woman after so much time alone in my cottage. Will you and your father join me for supper tonight? And your puppy too, of course,” she laughed and smiled again so sweetly.

Charity looked at her father for approval. He nodded with a smile.

“Thank you for the gracious offer Ms. Joszette,” he said rising to his feet. “We are very happy to accept. They gathered their things and followed her through the forest.

A little while later, Charity looked around the cottage in admiration. She sat at a small dinner table with Joszette and her father, mesmerized. There was so much to see. There were dried flowers arranged in beautiful patterns hanging on the wall and from the ceiling, and shelves full of collected things and crafted things. There were dolls made from natural materials such as twigs, leaves, and pinecones, and intricate sculptures of elegant human and animal form captured in stone or carved from wood. Charity began to notice all of the hand tools tucked away neatly in the corners, and she realized that Ms. Joszette must be the artist who created all of these figures.

She noticed Ms. Joszette smiling at her and suddenly felt ashamed for being so nosey.

“I am glad you admire my work Ms. Charity,” she said warmly. “I haven’t had anyone to share them with in a long time. When I was much younger I used to create works of art in the castle. Can you imagine?” she laughed as she said that, as if it was absurd to think she could ever hold a place at court.

Charity didn’t think it was absurd. She was mesmerized by this woman. She was spell bound by her motherly grace and beauty, and she was ready to believe anything about her.

The three of them stayed up late, laughing and sharing stories and enjoying the delicious food Joszette cooked for them. Charity was in disbelief at how happy she was spending time Ms. Joszette and her father. Even Cuddles, snoozing peacefully by the fireplace, seemed at home here.
“This must have been what it was like when my mother was alive,”
she thought.
“He is smiling again and all his worry seems to have disappeared.”
There was no denying it. There seemed to be a connection between her father and this woman, and Charity was not opposed to the idea. She was hopeful for it.

Long after midnight, as she lay in the bed Ms. Joszette made for her on the floor, she wondered at all of the things she had learned tonight. Ms. Joszette had been an artist at court for the King when she was younger, and it had been somewhat scandalous since she was a woman. Her skill was undeniable though, and she was protected and allowed to practice doing what she loved. Eventually, a handsome and modestly wealthy man swept her off her feet and married her. That was the end of her court service, and the beginning of a much more rewarding experience. She and her husband had a beautiful little baby daughter that brought her more joy than she had ever known. Charity smiled, remembering how happy it made Ms. Joszette to share those memories.

Their large country estate, which included the forest they were in now, was sacked by invading rebels two years after the war in which Prince Thurmond died. That was 18 years ago.

Her husband and daughter, along with most of the people who lived and worked on their land, were killed. Charity was heartbroken for her. Ms. Joszette said that for many months afterward, she wished that she too had not survived. Then one day, she decided that she was not respecting their memory by staying defeated. She took charge of her life once more and sold off the estate. She sold all of it with the exception of this forested area. While she was ready to get on with life, she was not ready to jump back into society and to be around other people. She hired an old woodsman and his son to build her this cabin, and she lived here alone ever since.

Charity marveled at that. How courageous she was to live on her own for so long. She couldn’t imagine the cold winters and dark nights all alone. She suddenly felt sad for Ms. Joszette and wished they could stay here in the cottage with her. Then none of them would be alone again.

But those were the wishes of a teenage girl. The world seldom works in such a happy, worry-free way. Charity closed her eyes and curled one arm around her sleeping puppy. She drifted off to sleep with a half-smile on her lips.

Lynn’s head was spinning.
“How on earth did we find ourselves in the company of this amazing woman?”
he thought as he lay on the floor near the door.
“I haven’t felt this way since Charity’s mother was alive.”
He looked over at the bed of blankets where Charity slept and marveled that she was already thirteen years old. They had not officially celebrate her birthday since it occurred during the unpleasantness in Hidden Valley

He revisited the conversation and events of the evening, looking for something he missed. He tried to find anything that would show that this really was too good to be true and he was being foolish. He couldn’t. Joszette seemed perfect, and for some strange reason, she seemed to genuinely like him.

He sighed deeply, wishing that circumstances were different. They were not, and he was enough of a realist to know that they probably never would be.

(Present Day: 237 Cycles into the Light)

Corvis took Chase’s offered hand and climbed out of the pit. He groaned as he stood fully erect for the first time in three days. His men were being helped out behind him, and one by one they were going through the same process and stretching their sore muscles.

“Well, Lieutenant,” said Captain Martin with mock formality. “I do believe you and your men are in need of a bath,” he said with a chuckle. “I’ve ordered the bath tents readied for you all. Go, get clean and relax. Have a hearty meal, and then meet me in my tent for an assignment. It’s good to see you back on your feet Corvis.”

“Thank you sir,” said Corvis with a stiff salute. When the Captain had moved on, he turned to his men. “Okay Sergeant, get the men to the bath tents and then to the mess tent. We have work to do, so don’t soak too long,” he said
.

“Oh good Lord, a bath is just what I need right now,”
he thought as he left his men and headed straight to the bath tent.

Far to the west, Guy watched from an alley across the street as investors and merchants walked into and out of a well, guarded building. The building he watched was a stronghold for the wealth of visiting merchants, royals, and in this case, pirates. It was a fortress, under guard by the King’s own soldiers, and rumored to be impenetrable.

From the shadows, he carefully watched every person who seemed to take interest in the bank. He subconsciously rubbed the small key hanging around his neck. From time to time he casually looked around to make sure he was not being watched as well.

Guy had no intention of seeking out and meeting his uncle, a man whom he had never met. He had no desire to ask him for a job or a place to live. He had another option, and although it involved great risk, it was exactly what he planned to do. He intended to walk past the guards and straight into the treasury. Then he would walk out the same door and past the guards with a fortune of gold in his hands. More specifically, he intended to walk out with Curly’s fortune of gold in his hands.

In confidence, Curly told him about his “investment” in the capital treasury. He had pulled the key up and out of his shirt, where it hung on a chain, tangled in his chest hair, and winked at Guy as he told him. More than any other reason, including stabbing him, Guy knew that the key would bring Curly after him. That’s why he avoided coming here when he first escaped. In retrospect, he probably should have come here first, since he had a good head start back then. By now Curly would be on his feet and thoroughly pissed. Most likely, he would be watching for Guy here at the treasury.

This was the second day Guy spent watching the treasury. Yesterday he was farther away, on the other side of the treasury building and wearing a different cloak. Even so, he knew a one legged man would draw attention, and he took great care to stay out of sight. So far, he had not seen Curly or anyone else that he thought might be working for him. There was no way to be sure though, so he tried to be patient and just watch for now.

As the sun began to go down and the treasury closed for the day, Guy turned and walked with a hitched gate down the alley and away from the bank. He was beginning to feel more confident that his enemy was not in town after all.

After only a few minutes of walking on the cobbled backstreets, he entered the Inn where he was renting a room. The Gift of Hindsight was a cheap place to stay with passable food, and most importantly the keeper asked no questions. Guy took a seat at a table in the back corner, conveniently situated next to the hallway. The hall led to his room and the only other way out. He sat back and waited for the serving girl to take his order.

Hannah, the serving girl, was short and plump with rosy cheeks and a playful smile. As near as he could tell she wasn’t a prostitute exactly, but she spoke like a sailor and was certainly not a prude. If it weren’t for the risk of catching something he might have considered playing her games.

“What’ll it be handsome?” she asked with a teasing smile and leaning against him so her ample bosoms pressed against his arm. “How about something warm for you after a long day, handsome” she said with a giggle.

“How about some meat, in a pie or a stew, and something full of alcohol to drink?” he asked.

“Meat and drink for the cute one,” she said with a wink, and she turned toward the kitchen.

Guy simply nodded and smiled. The smile turned to a grimaced as she walked away to place his order.

A few minutes later he was eating a surprisingly flavorful meat pie and washing it down with a somewhat less appealing pint of ale. He took his time savoring the food, but gulped the ale in an attempt to just get it over with. Guy watched the serving girl talking up another patron, who obviously liked the attention, and smiled to himself.

He finished the last bite and sat back, feeling quite satisfied.

“My, my, you must’ve been hungry. You’ve swallowed the whole lot,” the serving girl teased as she cleared his table. “Can I get you anything else?” She leaned in close and whispered, “Maybe something…sweet?”

Guy, slightly less picky after the food and drink, pondered the obvious innuendo for a moment and then sighed. “Tempting, but no. I have a long day ahead of me tomorrow, and I need to get some rest.”

She leaned in closer and whispered, “I can draw you a bath if you like.” She smiled and her eyes were positively sparkling with mischief.

Guy stood and tapped his wooden leg. “I’d love a bath, but unfortunately, this one is borrowed and I promised I wouldn’t get it wet,” he said in a friendly but completely serious tone.

Hannah looked puzzled and nodded her head slowly as he walked past her into the hallway toward his room.

She stood there in confusion for a moment before shaking her head and turning to greet a new customer who was just walking in.

“Oh my, you’re a big one,” she said with a smile and a wink. The big man winced as he lowered himself into a chair, and then returned her smile and wink saying, “You have no idea young lady. Bring me something hot to eat and keep the drinks coming. Oh, and if you draw me a bath after, I might let you join me.” He gave her a swat on the bottom as she giggled and headed for the kitchen. The big man took off his cloak and draped it over the seat next to him. His shirt was unbuttoned down to the middle of his barrel chest exposing a carpet of curly hair. He looked around at the interior of the Gift of Hindsight and grunted in satisfaction. This place would do for lodgings while he waited for Guy to try and steal his money.

Just then, three unsavory men walked through the front door. The big man waved a hand and they joined him at his table. Curly smiled to himself as he opened his purse and dropped some coins on the table in front of them. They all sat down. These men were his type of men. They were the type that would do anything for money. Even better, they were the type that would do anything for just a little money.