Magnus

A New Beginning


“Please Father, just let me try,” A small dark haired girl pleaded clinging to the frail hand of an old man who reclined in the bed under her.

He chuckled deep and low. “And what good would it be when you are found out?”

Her long dark hair shook back as she looked at him with tremulous hope, “I’ll be careful. What harm would it be? At worst they send me home with a good education and a fine sword arm.”

He chuckled again closing his eyes as the dreaded crease appeared between his brows. “I won’t lie to my king and tell him that you are my son.”

She shrugged again, not noticing the thin veil of his lids closing her actions from view, “So say that you are sending your child and leave out my name.”

He reached out for my hand, “Oh my Hayleigh, you should have been my son, cunning child that you are. You would have been a fine Baron.”

She laughed a warm ringing note that was deeper than most girls her age, but not so deep as to be manly. She softly patted the hand in hers, looking down at it with loving consternation, “No Father I would be miserable at sitting in audience all day.”

He chuckled again, “Then stay away from that prince.”

Her eyes went round and the sound of her breathing, which was the loudest in the room up until that point, stopped. She was not willing to move even a single muscle to upset the possibility of what had just passed from her Father’s mouth.

“I’ll send the letter, but don’t dishonor your family, and still look for a good husband that I would have liked.”

She swallowed hard, but no longer argued the point of the dwindling length of her Father’s lifespan. Finally she nodded, “I’ll see what I can do,” she replied, but there was a sarcastic turn of her full lips.

The not so old, but extremely frail man, closed his eyes again, “I love you little girl. Now go back pack and send in the scribe. I’ll never create a legible note on my own.”

With an audible swish of her heavy silken skirts, she rose from the bed and curtseyed to the old man, “Thank you.” With quiet dignity she minced out as was expected of a Lady of her station, but as soon as the door closed, she grabbed up her skirts in both hands and ran down the halls all breathless and thrilled at the prospect of eight years of trousers and tunic, of sweaty men and the tang of polished swords.

Once the heavy door to her room was closed behind her she stood panting, gazing about her room. None of the little pretty things that she had been given but visiting nobility or family seeking to be named the next in line would go with her, all of them gave her away as a young, not yet betrothed daughter of a Baron. She glanced at the little wooden practice sword and shrugged, they would have nicer ones at school as well. Finally, she came to her closet and the clothes she was going to need. She smiled hugely with a wicked kind of glee as she shoved the dresses aside. She was going to trade her corset for a sword belt and never think twice.

When after a moment or two she was done it occurred to her that there was so little that she could take with her, abandoning all the trinkets of femininity. There in the middle of the bed was a pair of packed saddlebags, but none of them reasonable clothing. It occurred to her that as she took on the role of her Father’s son, she might need to invade the sanctum of a real son to take with her all the things that would make her convincing.

When the door opened with a creak, she shirked back, but the hall was empty. They room across the open landing was locked, with a heavy bolt that had not been pulled back in far too long. Leland’s door creaked it’s protest as her picks threw the latch open without the oil a cast iron piece should have to keep it in normal working order. Inside the room was thick with dust, but otherwise just the same as she remembered it. The bed’s thick linens had not been smoothed down as they should have been and things were piled on top of every available surface. Hayleigh pulled the door closed behind her and tried to think of the things that defined her brother in her recollection. She went to his closet thinking that his things would have to be taken in to fit her, but it had been a long enough time that they pulled appropriately across her shoulders and did not hang badly over her hands.

She carefully picked through the clothes and set some aside near the door. She gathered a few of the things Father had given him for his birthdays. It hurt a little to look at them, but they had their place, a set of sleeve knives, a brass compass, a hunting dagger, and a book with basic code breaking. Father had hoped that Leland would be his heir in all ways, including the intellegencia. Leland had been nice, but purposefully forgetful of his tasks in that area. Eventually Father had given up. Now, Hayleigh would play the part of the dutiful son and have a useful avenue for all the things she was not supposed to have learned in her brother’s stead.

Since Leland had never made it to his twelfth birthday, there was no baronial sword to take with her, but his childhood blade would have to do. It still had the coat of arms on it, but it was small and a bit bent with misuse. Hayleigh looked over her small pile of treasures with satisfaction; she might be able to pull this off after all.

She glanced up at the ceiling and sent a small prayer of thanks heavenward. ‘I hope you are not too angry with me for taking your things. All the same, thank you for giving me this chance. I always wanted a way to become that something more that I feel I can be. So, thank you.’

In the morning, the lean dark haired girl would be Lee heir of Sonjan Keep and no longer Lady Hayleigh. She was grateful that her Father had not bothered to submit the official documentation to give Baronial rule, at his death, to cousin Herrin, thus letting the kingdom officially know that Leland had died with his mother. Sonjan was a small enough backwater that no one bothered enough to check the blood lines that closely. For that Hayleigh was pleased as well. Her barony was prominent enough to merit a place in the Knights’ college, but not so well known as to not be able to get away with a little deceit. Which was probably why her Father had so readily accepted the holding.

She snuck all the pirated things back into her room and tucked them into bags on her bed. As soon as that was done, a knock rang out on the door making her heart race and her shoulders straiten involuntarily. She smoothed her dress front and swallowed before opening to let in the pinched faced Scribe, Landrall, who looked more than a little irritated. “His Excellency has asked that I bring this to you myself and give you care of his signet.”

There was a moment of tension filled silence as she waited to take the parchment and ring. The pulse had again quickened in her chest and her stomach had filled with the fluttering sensation of anxiety. Once her fingers closed around the two gifts, and she had whispered, “Thank you,” the scribe bowed very stiffly still looking pinched and disapproving.

Hayleigh stared at the ring and all it implied. Father was going to die and Hayleigh was to stand as his son. He had accepted his demise and her choice to seek for an unfeminine life of glory and honor, whatever that was supposed to mean or encompass.

She turned the thing in her hand a few times, thinking, before she was willing to try it on. The ring was too big. She bit into the side of her bottom lip, then ducked and pulled a long loose string from the bottom of her full skirt. She sat on the edge of her bed and began winding it around the inside of her ring. Long moments drew out as she worked to make it fit snugly around her finger.

She sighed, turning it on her hand, and lay back. This was the jumping off point and Hayleigh was going to jump. She stripped down to only fine underwear and climbed under the thick covers of her plush bed, having left the window open to let in the night air. Tomorrow was a new day and tomorrow Hayleigh would become a new person.

In the middle of the night, when no one bothered to roam the hold hallways, I snuck into the dust covered room that had been my brothers. He had a wardrobe full of clothes that were a bit out of date, but would serve fine until I could manage Most of all I took his coveted leather vest. Right now I could wear it pulled in tight, but in the future it would be too revealing. But it felt like a hug from – and I was glad of his ghostly company as I slipped back into my room.

‘May tomorrow bring with it adventure and excitement,’ She prayed for herself drifting off to sleep to dream of all the challenges Sir Lee would face.



A Painful Reality

The hills wove constantly and magnificently down from the mountain valleys that stood between Sonjan and the Capital, but the ride was long and hard especially since Hayleigh had never ridden like a boy. The first night she stopped at a hotel and with a stiff upper lip faced the innkeeper, who noticed, but did not comment on the tears standing in her eyes. He, in his compassion sent up a crock of salve. Hayleigh smiled politely at the maid and closed the door, limping to the bed. She cried in bitter discouragement as she rubbed in the numbing concoction.

She was disappointed that she had not even gotten as far a she had hoped to ride. If she had been riding her sidesaddle as she was used to doing, she would be miles ahead of herself. Worse than that, she was beginning to feel badly for herself that she was going to get back up on that wide horse in the morning. With that thought, she flopped back onto the lush pillows, tears creating streams down the sides of her face and tried to rest. But her churning thoughts would not let her alone.

‘I am soft and pampered and nothing like a knight should be.’

She flopped over on her side trying to avoid the self-doubt.

‘One day of riding has told me that I am soft… How am I going to manage the next eight years?’

She flopped again.

‘Am I ready? Can I ever be?’

With such unhappy thoughts, she drifted off to sleep, but fought her doubts through the night as they invaded her dreams in all available forms.

When she finally awoke, it was with great relief that she saw the dawn. She skulked down to the bathroom, dark hair falling into her face and scrubbed, groaning as the hot water touched her sore skin, and resigning herself to sit on the side of the tub and wash from there. That was not Hayleigh’s idea of a nice morning. She was a clean kind of person who liked sitting in warm water and scrubbing every last inch of her skin until it tingled with clean. That was not easily accomplished with blistered thighs. Not that a page would get that kind of luxury. In the next few years, Lee could only expect to bathe in the public baths, which meant no long baths and trying to avoid the other students. She hadn’t exactly figured on how she was going to deal with that. The ride to the city was hard enough as it was. As she got back into her clothes she was grateful got a loose tunic and breaches, which at least kept her walking unencumbered.

With determined steps, Lee went out to the courtyard where the big warhorse was standing impatiently by the Stable master. She rolled her eyes, shook her head, and decided that this was not going to be very much fun. Her breath began to tear out of her lungs more quickly, and her hands began to shake as she grabbed for the reigns. With a great wince, she swung her leg up over his thick back and tried to breathe as she just sat there.

‘I am going to have to toughen up in more ways than one,’ she informed herself and turned his head out for the duration of the long day.

The day was long and hot with many stops to walk out my cramping muscles. Lee should have been there by noon, but it was almost dinnertime when she finally crested the hill to see the sprawling mess of a city and the near frothy filthy waters that were the capital. Father had given her documents for king and court as well as less reputable people in the city. He was a noble man for sure, but in his day father had known more than the king himself about the inner workings of the kingdom and outlands. He had friends in all places, many of which would have been considered unacceptable for a man of his rank, but father had never cared about rank, only usefulness. Maybe that was why he had decided to allow Hayleigh to stretch the rules as she was. He was more amused by the laws than obedient to them although fiercely loyal to his King.

Until his recent sickness, he had been the hand with which the king had moved when official channels or methods were unavailable. Now the king was bound to tradition and propriety. Neither man was better for the lack of a replacement. Father’s sickness had killed Mother and Leland, Hayleigh’s brother. Maybe Father was counting on the King’s lack of credible information to get her over that hump. Or maybe he was counting on the King desiring a replacement enough that he would not look too closely at the child that had been sent.

The new recruit slipped off her saddle with a groan and walked the length of the valley. With every step she bit into her bottom lip more to keep from complaining. Knights did not complain and Hayleigh was not planning to start now. Once inside the city, she was amazed by the number of eyes on her. Lee tried to walk as she imagined a knight would, with spine strait and chin tilted up, but felt silly so gave up and just kept putting one painful foot in front of the other until she came to the gate into the palace compound. The guard held out a hand for Lee’s documents and scanned them over carefully. He nodded and pointed inside.

“Your horse, you can leave with the stable master who will care for your tack, but the rest of these documents need to be given to the king directly. Once you’re done at the stable go to that big white building and ask one of the other pages to lead you to the king.”

Lee nodded, wanting to curtsey, but bowed stiffly. She took the time to brush Machiavelli down carefully and checked his hoofs. Once satisfied with the shinning coat of my horse, Lee was filthy. This was no way to meet a page let alone the King. She sighed, it was time to change her thoughts, and they were far too female to suit a boy her age. Lee had never known a boy to care what his clothes looked like, or the amount of mud caked on his shirt, no matter the situation. She shook her head and made her way over to the white building, still trying not to limp. It was late, but probably not late enough that court was over. The doors, to which she had been directed, erupted with a herd of boys, of varying heights and breadths. They stopped in their tracks and looked at Lee, all colors of eyes appraising me.

She swallowed hard, “Are you pages?” Lee finally managed to say.

A few of them looked over each other and laughed. “Don’t we wish!” guffawed the short dark skinned boy slapping his leg with amusement.

“Are you here to present your papers to the king?” A taller, more serious faced blond asked.

Lee nodded, “That is where I was sent.”

A few of them laughed as little boys often do, for unknown reasons to girls. They turned back to the heavy mahogany doors and swung them wide, which seemed a feat from their sheer size and resplendent decoration. As the chattering mob walked down magnificently tapestried corridors, each work of art covering deep reddish grey stone, Lee listened, trying to place where she was within the palace and where these boys ranked to one another. It was more challenging for her to just walk with them than she had expected, seeing as how walking was a challenge at a plodding pace, but the excited gallop of young boys was by far harder to manage. At odd intervals, there were guards standing in the hall, dressed in bright blue or green or orange, not matching uniforms. Not a single one of them seemed to notice, or care about the boys milling down the passages. These must be the chambers of visiting Lords, or merchant meetings, nothing to bother a bunch of trainees. When finally they twisted their way into larger, higher ceilinged, halls a pair of far more intimidating doors loomed up ahead of them.

These doors were of the same mahogany, but they carried a massive set of pulls. If put in their proper place, they would have been far more suitable on the entrance to a giant’s house. They were burnished until they shone with gold and silver gilt. Almost a whole detachment of guards lounged about the outside of these doors, dressed exactly in the deep purple of the king’s house. Hayleigh’s heart seemed to flutter to a stop as she stood there only for a slit second. After this, there was no turning back. Once she was presented, she had committed herself, no matter what the outcome. The papers Father had given her crumpled a bit as she fussed with them and the boys announced they needed the doors opened.

Hayleigh followed her mob into a room full of chattering, brilliantly dressed creatures. The high walls hung with house banners, shields, swords, maces, and pole axes- all too far up to be of risk to the monarch- and at the front of the hall a dais with throne and waiting king.

An old man and his smiling mischievous son stood at the front of the room looking amused at the appearance of a crew of young men.

“Is the mob here for a reason?” The Monarch called out to Lee and the boys.

“We found another straggler!” Called one of a pair of similar looking boys.

Lee swallowed as the Kings eyes dropped to her. She strode as fluidly as possible up a few steps and bowed. Unfortunately, it was obviously stiff, which made his eyes sparkle all the more with hidden glee.

“A long day in the saddle?” He asked pleasantly.

Lee tried to hold in the Lady-like blush that threatened, and simply nodded, handing over the documents that Father had drawn up.

He looked them over and his eyebrows rose with amusement “Sonjan's child huh? Are you as enterprising as your father?”

Lee shook her head, “I would not presume to think I am as capable as my father,” she replied, automatically demurring.

He laughed, “Humility was not a quality I expected out of you.”

Lee smiled and tilted her head to accept his complement, “I thank you for that Majesty.”

“I accept you to the page program and leave you to the care of the other students, who are to get you settled in a room, with your uniforms. You think you can manage that?” He asked the others.

“Anything you ask Majesty,” the short dark haired one with a big grin replied with a mocking bow.

“You will learn manners, Marcum, before you make squire.” He replied.

The boy bowed, “I wait on training from my king.”

Their unseen force tugged me out of the hall, followed out by the rolling chuckle of an amused King.

Once the cavalcade made their way out into the halls, they clapped Lee on the shoulder and greeted her, pummeling her with far too many questions, and almost knocking her to the ground more than once.

“Hold on men, the man must be starving, he’s been in saddle all day,” the lighter haired twin interrupted.

Lee nodded, grateful for the reprieve.

“To Cookie!” he informed the others, with the gusto of a commanding field general.

“Maybe not,” the oldest of the group disagreed putting his hand on the other boy’s chest. “Luken and Marlon, you go get uniforms. I’ll go down to Cookie’s to get food. Ophir you go talk the maid’s into a bath in Lee’s room. I think if we parade Lee around any longer he’ll fall flat on his face in exhaustion.”

Lee nodded her thanks. Glad that tonight she would be clean without all the difficulties of figuring out how to keep all these friendly boys out of the way. She liked them for the most part. They seemed like nice enough creatures. All bluster and a herd of fun, and yet she was afraid of them for the thing they did not know about her and how she was going to keep those things a secret for such a long time. They were far too smart to be easily fooled.

The last of the group left with Lee was ordinarily brown haired and thick in build. I turned to go back down the hall and ran into him. He chuckled, “Wrong way my friend. I’m Marcus. Let me get you pointed in the direction of bed.”

Lee nodded and he walked down the halls to the quiet corridors with closely spaced doors. He pushed one open for Lee, without another word. The room was small, no, very small, but Lee’s packs were set on the bed. Lee grinned guardedly at Marcus and began to hang all the things in the small wardrobe and unwrapping things to place them on the dresser and desk. When Lee took off her sword, she slung it over the bedpost with a shrug.

“Good enough. I’m Magnus by the way,” The blond who had taken charge earlier appraised the small space. In his hands was a tray of food that’s smells wafted up to Lee’s nose, making her swallow involuntarily. Lee had not realized just how famished she was until the food had come within smelling distance. He plopped the tray down on the desk and Lee sunk down, eating as quickly as her female upbringing would allow. She licked all her fingers and mopped the plate with her bread.

“You’ll have to eat more meat as you grow,” Magnus informed me as Lee as she stood up and began looking blearily at the plate.

Lee nodded, maybe she would. But right now, she was having a hard time thinking strait.

“Sit Lee, before you fall over,” Magnus ordered. Lee obeyed, glad for the chair that was near to her. “We’ll leave you to it,” he continued as a knock rang out on the door.

The door pushed open and a heavy tub and a herd of servants began to parade in with steaming water. The last in and therefore out of the room, was a very pretty maid. The guys laughed at her and teased her that she was to go back to her chores immediately and not dally with a tired noble. Lee managed to get up enough energy to glare at them as they guffawed out the door. To the maid’s surprise, Lee waited until she left before bolting the door and undressing. The water was warm, but not too hot to soak sore legs. Lee scrubbed every inch, the warm water giving her energy, and making her gleefully happy. Not only had she made it to the city, but she had also gotten through the first day with her classmates, and her meeting with the King. It must have been the maid who had slipped a letter onto Lee’s bed while she was distracted by the bath, but she frowned at it when she wrapped up in a towel. It was from Father, detailing the palace and grounds. Lee all but propped her eye lids open to be able to read it all before re-dressing. When she was covered in her brother’s nightclothes, she tucked it into a special lock box that Father had gifted her on her fifth birthday. She knew he could open it, but the series of locks were hard to pick and it was extremely secure.

Once the box was locked, Lee had nothing left, but the energy to climb into bed and fall deeply asleep. Only vaguely did she notice the servants come in to take away the bathwater while she slumbered.

When Lee later woke to find this, she berated herself that she needed to be more on her toes. Considering the web of lies she was already weaving, Lee was going to need to be alert to survive here.



Day One

Someone pounded on Lee’s door. She rolled over ignoring them.

“Get up!” someone yelled from the other side of the door, “We’re hungry!”

She grinned, ‘I loved men’s natural attraction to food.’ Lee yawned and opened the door. Today already felt like a better day. Her legs were still raw, but not as bad as they had been with a good cleaning and lots of sleep. Lee ripped on pants, hissing as they pulled over her thighs, and a shirt.

“It wasn’t locked,” Lee informed the band of boys outside. She must have been the last guy there. They were all in different stages of wakefulness, hair still tousled from the night. Yet there they were, accepting Lee as a boy and one of their comrades. For the first time, Lee thought this might be a workable plan. At least for a time. With those ideas in her head, she quickly brushed hair and teeth then joined the all male cavalcade moving down the hallway.

Breakfast smells wafted down the corridors as we neared the mess hall. The normal raucous noises that usually emanated from such rooms were obviously missing, and were replace the quiet shuffle of servants and soft crash of platters as they were placed on the long table in the middle of a cavernous room. There was a head table, but it looked strange considering the little troop were the only boys their age in the room, but what were they to expect being the first year of a new royal knight’s school. Lee smiled thinking of all the testosterone around, knowing that all the other females within any distance were serving food.

Ophir clapped Lee on the back, “It’s okay little man, they’ll bring food to you still.”

Lee nodded, letting him think that food was what she was interested in. Lee was elbowed out of the way as a platter was placed in front of her. She rubbed her arm and looked with irritation at the woman who had jammed into her. The maid glared back and Lee was tempted to stick her tongue out at her.

“Relax scrapper, you need to make nice with the ladies that work in the kitchen, not make them hate you in particular,” Markus waived a knife at Lee, holding utensils at the ready

Lee shrugged, “I don’t mind annoying women, even if they have food.”

Nicolau laughed, “I like most women when they have food.”

“Spoken like the true stomach that you are,” Lee teased back, raising her glass to him in a mock toast.

He shrugged and we sat waiting for the signal to allow us to begin our meal.

After food, Lee was assigned to help bring dishes down to the kitchen. There in the middle of the melee of cleaning stood a man who could only be Cookie, with sweat pouring down his face, shouting orders to everyone there and directing with corrective slaps from his wooden spoon. Lee grinned at him, knowing exactly who this was from my father’s detailed accounts of the palace staff. She was glad to see the happy grin under the roar of his orders.

“Come on Trainee move,” another woman pushed Lee from behind. She growled at her and went to the sink to drop off her dishes to the washers for the day.

Lee thought with great irritation, ‘It will be good when I am a page and excused from these kinds of mundane things.’

“You!” Called Cookie from the midst of the tornado.

Lee looked at the man and grinned.

“Lee?”

She laughed, throwing her head back, “In the flesh!” He knew as much as my Father had said he would and Lee didn’t need to remind him of her name.

He nodded, “Come see me when all these,” he motioned to the staff, “Go to bed.”

Lee nodded to him and went out to find her class mates who waited impatiently in the middle of the hard packed dirt yard. They looked at each other and wondered who was going to kill them, at least Lee did, and who they could manage to kill. There were not so many of the latter in Lee’s calculations. Lee was the shortest of the boys and thin, but most of them were relatively thin. A few of the guys had significantly harder muscles than Lee did and they made her swallow hard with anxiety. The teacher was even more terrifying. He was older and lean in the way that only the best of athletes can be lean. He had the permanent frown lines in his mouth, which bespoke the number of grim looks that would fill the rest of her days. He demanded that the students stand in a line as he walked before and behind them detailing all the things that they lacked.

Lee wanted to be brave and glare back like a few of the others did, but he was the meanest looking man that she had ever known and looked down at her feet as would be expected of a proper girl. He was not impressed. Lee felt stupid, and sure she would make an even bigger mess of this before it was done. Orders were yelled and Lee really did try her best to keep up with everything, but kept tripping over her feet or someone else’s. Gone was the happy carefree feeling of the morning. She was miserable in swordplay and slow at running exercises. In general, Lee was a total failure when it came to arms class. She dragged off the field, feeling useless and altogether as though she was not possibly going to succeed. The tall blond, skinny guy clapped her on the shoulder.

“No worries little man. I’m Nico? Anyway, you’ll catch on, most of us have been being pummeled by our fathers just like this since we could walk. You have just had the luck of escaping that kind of Father’s love for awhile.”

Lee smiled, “Not me. Father stuck knives in my hands and taught me to pick pockets.”

His look brightened, “Really, now that is something that I could use a hand with.”

Lee chuckled back, the warmth of acceptance spreading through her again like spring sunlight, “If you teach me how to use that long pointy thing, I will teach you how to pick pockets.”

“What about locks?” He looked shrewdly down his two inch advantage.

She shook her head, “No I think I will save that lesson for another trade. Besides, I hear there are new kinds of locks I need to learn on here in the palace.”

Nico shook his head, short blond hair flopping as he did so. “Alright, but I hold you to your promise. You have to teach me.”

”Nothing of value, promise? And nothing from the poor?”

Nico nodded, “I think this will be the best lesson of them all.”

She put her hand on his shoulder, “I think you may be right.”

Dinner had been amazing and Lee wanted to curl up into a ball and sleep it off, but she had a meeting to attend. Once the evening bell tolled, she hauled herself up from her place at the desk and motated down the unending stairs to the kitchen. There in the empty room sat the big cook.

He pushed a steaming mug and plate of cookies at Lee. She sat quietly across the counter from him and smiled.

“Hello Tanamair,” Lee greeted him using his birth name.

He grinned wrinkling the corners of his eyes, “Hello Hayleigh,” he replied equally amused.

“Are you planning on sharing that little bit with the court?” She inquired.

He chuckled, “What good’ll tha’ do me? ‘Sides you’ll need a few of us on ye’re side to keep tha’ secret for ye. There’ll be days when ye canna contain it. Like I said to yer pa, I owe him a lot an’ have no problem caring for ye to fill tha debt.”

Lee smiled back with a little bow of her head, “I am sure that he would accept that.”

“How is ‘e? ‘E says no worse far the weir, but I know ‘im.”

“He’s doing badly. Tired often and weak regularly. He’ll probably never get better. Whether that is from the sickness or the deaths of Mom and Leland, I’ll never know. I hazard to think the second did the most damage.” She continued to relax in the comfort of his company.

He nodded. “You expect him to live long?” He picked up a snack in his massive hand, dwarfing the sweet.

Lee shook her head and quietly sipped her drink. It was warm and sweet and heated that part of her heart that had begun to chill with the conversation.

“Who’s running the place, really?”

Lee shrugged, “The house keeper and the spymaster.”

He grinned with unsuppressed mirth, “Darren ruling a barony is actually funny.”

Lee smiled and nodded. The skinny rat faced spy frequently balked at the domesticity of the job, but he kept on because father had loved him as his son. Darren had stopped frequent attempts on Lee’s life when she was little. He had given Lee her first set of knives and taught her how to use them. (Have Darren come when Magnus chooses Keelin) “He doesn’t do the job because it’s fun.”

“No,” agreed Cookie, “He counts ye and yer da as Kin.”

Lee nodded, “And we love him for it.”

Cookie chuckled, “Had you known him when he was young you’d find this conversation amusing too.”

Lee shrugged and quoted her mother, “What do I know when I stand here at the beginning.”

He nodded to Lee, “Ye have much of yer mother in ye. Humility an’ quiet wisdom are things your father never acquired.”

“Oh Father is quiet with what he knows regularly.”

Cookie smiled, “Maybe, but I am certain that he was never humble.”

Lee snickered at her cookies.

“Little one you can always come to me. I will always stand with you so long as you stand in places where your father would be proud.”

She smiled sheepishly, as the heat rose in her face, “My father doesn’t always obey laws.”

Cookie’s eyes twinkled, “Aye, but h’ was always careful to only break silly laws an’ hurt no one accidentally.”

Lee understood, “Thank you.”

“Now get to bed little pup. Ye’ll need lotsa sleep to outgrow these lads shortly.”

I stood and bowed to him deeply, “Thank you and good night.” The silence of the night clung to me as Lee made her way back to her room, attempting to imagine a younger father and Darren. She bolted the door, pulled off clothes and snuggled into bed. Glad of a strong ally. Somehow having someone to guard her secret made her feel all the more safe.

Discovery- Chapter one

Eva sighed rubbing her neck; it was kinked from sitting in the car for so very long. Her brothers were bopping along to music and her sisters were snoring softly as the car plodded along yet another stretch of highway on its way to their new home. Mom was in the front seat with oldies music playing softly so as not to disturb the differing tastes of her offspring. Dad was in the passenger seat reading the paper from home. The van was not only carrying all of Eva’s family, but a small trailer of the mom’s best paintings, which she had been unwilling to entrust to the moving company.
Eva was so excited for the new house, which would be bigger and afford Eva her own room, though not necessarily for the new town. This was a small place, nothing like the big open skies of New Mexico. They were driving to Washington State where all the horizons were hemmed in by trees and mountains. Eva sighed pulling at a piece of her rust colored hair and noting how much more frizzy it was managing to be in the humidity. ‘Yuck, who likes humidity?’ She was sure that no hair looked better in this kind of weather, and if some did, well, she inherently disliked that person’s hair.
What had woken her was not the change in barometric pressure or anything of great note, just that Mom had turned off the interstate onto a less perfect road that led into the woods. The view opened up to a little town and too many more trees. Mom pulled off into the parking lot of a hotel and everyone began to rouse from their revere, glad to get out of the car.
“No, no,” Dad chided, “Stay by the car, I need to check us in first.” He swung his long legs out of the door and stiffly made his way to the little lit office. Eva watched the silent movie of him laughing with the keeper, almost hearing the conversation in her head.
A commotion broke out between her sibling and mother shushed them with a glare.
“Don’t ruin this trip now. You have done so well for so much of it.”
Eva grinned, that was such a mom thing to say, but like always, it worked. Dad came back with the room keys and began motioning people out of the car. Caleb and Joshua climbed out and began teasing. Katharine and Christine just gazed away from where they were standing eager to go back to bed. Mother grabbed Frankie and Dad grabbed the complaining baby Gertie. Dad motioned the boys into the first room and they plunked down their packs as close to the door as possible. Then he sent Eva, Katharine, and Christine to the last and placed mom and the babies in the middle.
“Now, we are all tired. I expect that you will all get in your pajamas, brush your teeth, and go to bed. We have been driving a long way and the little kids need to sleep. So please, don’t make me come talk to you tonight about being loud.” Dad pleaded.
Everyone mumbled a reply and all the doors closed. The girls were asleep quickly, having not really woken up. Eva did not bother to remind them to brush their teeth, since they had both plopped down into the same bed so she had the other to herself, which was worth any irritation from dad. Eva pulled out her jammies and tooth brush and hummed to herself as she got ready to turn in.
There was a knock on the door. It was dad. He looked at her sisters and shook his head. “Hey I was thinking that you and I should go in the morning and make sure everything is ready at the house. Before everyone else gets up, whad’ya think?” Dad’s grin was undeniable. He looked like a movie star and as the oldest, Eva enjoyed the attention.
“I think I can manage.” She replied.
“Alright then I will only knock on the door once. See ya early.”
Eva grinned, she loved doing things with Dad, and he always made sure that she did not feel the weight of having to help with that many kids. He made everything fun. Eva hopped into bed with a grin pleased with the prospect of the morning. Tomorrow was going to be the start of new and great things. Maybe she would even stay at the house and make cookies so it smelled really good for all the little kids that would no doubt be grumpy about having to get into the car yet again. Maybe senior year in a new place would not be so bad as she thought. At least it was a good jumping off place for dreams.
Dad’s knock in the morning was very early, but Eva was energized and excited. She hauled her hair up into a ponytail and dressed quickly. Dad was smiling when she pulled open the door and slipped out.
“I thought you could use some breakfast just the two of us what do you think?” He grinned putting his arm about her shoulders.
“You know I love breakfast.”
“Huh,” he replied, “I must have forgotten that.”
Eva grinned, Dad never forgot anything.
Breakfast was pancakes at a little café. They were good, but did not hold a candle to Moms. Not to mention that the syrup was not exactly high quality. Like they had mixed syrup with water and heated it until it was barely runny.
Dad polished off his hash brown and looked up expectantly. “You ready to go?”
Eva nodded and they were off again in the misty morning green. They pulled up to a long drive and an appealing house at what seemed to be the edge of town. It was nice, much bigger than the place they had lived before. Eva might actually have some peace and quiet here without her siblings all being pilled on top of her all the time. She bounded in the door behind Dad and began talking over with him where all the paintings that Mom had created would hang. They laughed and joked as they worked, getting everything in place in short order.
“Alright Muffin cup, let’s head out to get the family,” Dad offered holding the door.
Eva shook her head, “No. I think I want to stay and try out the kitchen. I figured the babies will do so much better with fresh cookies.”
Dad grinned, and kissed her on the top of the head, “You are such a good big sister. I am so proud of how you look out for them. Now no flirting with boys while I’m gone, remember we expect you to be a doctor.”
Eva laughed, “Dad I think I would have to walk five miles to find another living soul and who knows if they’d be male. Besides, I am going be in the kitchen. Oh and by the way, I love moving companies.”
Dad nodded, “Me too, it would have been a mess to pack and unpack all of you by ourselves.” kissed her one more time, and drove off.
Eva hummed through the batter, grinning as she imagined what they were going to say when they got there. She looked out the window a few times, across the magnificent turquoise water that lapped at the small fishing village below, wondering what was taking so long. Then Eva decided maybe Dad was taking them all out to lunch as well and stifled her worry. Eva was bored with the wait, so she went outside to weed. The constant thumping of the water against the break-water soothed Eva and the brine smelled somehow familiar. There was so much to do, but she was already concocting great plans for a garden and flowerbeds. A few places in the tiny town boasted bright roses beds and bright pink peonies. The doorbell rang and she dusted off her pants, glad Dad had given her enough warning to meet them at the door. When she swung wide the door she did not find the expected big van and a herd of family. It was a lone officer, dressed in the most horrible color of forest green.
“Hi,” she greeted him, apprehensive of new people when she was alone as all good city girls should be.
“Are you one of the Homesteaders?” He asked.
Eva nodded, “Yes Sir. I’m Eva.”
The man looked all the more chest fallen when she confirmed her identity. He swallowed and Eva began to really worry. Something was really wrong.
“What?” She demanded.
He looked away, “I need you to go for a drive with me. Your family has had a bit of an accident.”
Eva swayed. “A what?”
“If you’ll just go for a ride with me. I promise you’ll be safe.”
Eva nodded, terror flooding through her veins. “Are we going to Forks? The hospital is in Forks?”
The officer shook his head and opened the car door for her but did not reply.
Eva rocked herself in the back of the car lumbered down her steep hill and on through the unchanging green. When they arrived at the hospital at Forks Eva was relieved. But the officer shook his head. Her stomach fell again. They went inside and a hush fell even among the nursing staff. Eva began shaking. They took the stairs not up to the patient rooms, but down to the basement. Eva wanted to retch. When the officer directed her through the doors with the big letters M-O-U-R-G-E on them she began to cry. The workers did not so much as ask her for anything, but led her into a foul smelling room with a metal table in the middle.
“You need to tell us if this is your family,” the officer said softly.
Eva nodded, tears still pouring down her face.
The first was dad. “Richard.”
Then mom, “Marie.”
“Caleb.” “Joshua.” “Katharine.” “Christine.” “Frankie.”
Eva dropped to her knees when they showed baby Gertie. There she sobbed, rocking on her knees for what seemed like hours. The world had stopped turning. Time slowed and pulled out like some painful kind of taffy, leaving her in an abyss of confusion. She stood there for a long time, as moments ticked by like hours. Eva was not sure what to do next or how to breathe let alone proceed with her normal life. What must have been hours later someone spoke to Eva.
“Come on Eva. Let’s get you out of here.”
Eva blinked shocked that she was still in the same place, let alone the same world, but nodded to whomever the voice belonged to. She could not see through her tears. A hand pressed her down into a seat and a softer female voice began prattling at her.
It took her some time to understand that this was a social worker who was trying to tell her she would be placed in a foster home.
She glared at the woman, “I have a house thank you. I was there when your officer so graciously picked me up and destroyed my life.”
The woman took her irritation in stride, “Yes, but you need someone to look after you.”
Eva shook her head, “Thank you, but no thank you. I am eighteen and I can take care of myself. Now if you will leave me to my grief.”
The woman frowned and stood up.
The officer asked her to sign papers and told her the police report would be out in the morning if she wanted to read it. She just looked at him, glazed.
“I want to go home, please.” She pleaded. The doctor put a small bottle into her hand saying to take it if she needed it. She took it, uncertain what it was or what else to do with it.
He gave her one nod, walked her back out to the car, and drove her home. It was a long drive through breath taking vistas and thick temperate rain forest, Eva’s mind numb as it tried not to believe. She stared out the window without seeing. Eva wished he would just always drive so that she would not have to go on with life alone.
“Do you have other family that I could call for you?” The officer asked as the car stopped.
Eva shook her head, looking down the long drive .
“Are you going to be alright?” He asked.
That was the stupidest question in the whole world, of course she wasn’t. How was she ever going to be all right again? “I’ll be fine.”
He nodded, unconvinced, but almost understanding.
Eva stood in the drive while he drove off, the red tail- lights fading behind the trees. She fell to her knees again, sobbing. Finally, she pulled herself into the house and made herself eat. Mom would have made her eat. She brushed her teeth. Dad would have made her brush her teeth. She curled up in the middle of their bed and after more tears, fell into a peaceful sleep, feeling oddly comforted and not as alone as she had been.

Daciana and the Beast- chapter one

It was a long cold trip up the Pacific coast line. As to why I was going there... I had no solid idea. My best guesses were that my Mother had picked my step-father over me and that I was now being sent away. It felt like the modern day equivalent to banishment. Not that we did that any more, but here I was being banished to the cold regions northward. I liked imagining myself a damsel in distress and being the martyr as I rode on the front of the cruise ship standing against the blowing winds of the frigid North. I closed my eyes and thought of the cruise liner as old wooden masted ship that my mother had chartered to send me off. I imagined the crew as seedy pirates that I was trying to keep a distance from. I watched as the ice slipped by and then as we came near to the entry into Cook Inlet. The ice became less sparse and I decided that it was time to go inside.


We disembarked in the early morning and it was off to the train station with me. I rode north and into the mainland watching the vistas of the train window. I ate in the dinner car as we stopped in Anchorage, and then continued on Northward. We stopped in the city of Wasilla, more than an hour past Anchorage. At the station I found my two trunks on the platform. My father was standing there by them looking as plain and sturdy as always. He had little that was extraordinary about him; he was just so very good. He packed my things into the back of an extended cab truck. I threw my pack in the front and climbed in after it. Once we were both inside I said hi to him. He smiled and said it was nice to see me. Then we were off through the little town and towards what would now be our house.

Between the middle of nowhere and nowhere was my father’s house. It was not in the city proper, but farther out in the country. Again the feeling of a real banishment washed over me as we drove across the ice covered country side to the small, thick walled outpost that was both the Fish and game office and my father’s house. It was dark green on the outside which made it easier to see in the white landscape. We pulled into the garage, which he told me was a luxury around here. Frankly I found the word luxury more than a bit ironic considering. Once out of the car, the temperature wasn’t that much better. I shivered from top to bottom. We went into what I figured was the smallest room in the world. It only contained hooks for coats and organizers for boots. I kicked off my boots and stood on the mat, unwilling to take off my coat. Dad smiled. He understood in his quiet male way.

We went through another door and were into the house proper. It was nice, simple and very much a bachelor pad that was centered around a TV, but better than the entry had made me expect. There was no art on the walls to speak of, but pictures that he had taken, tacked up with multi-colored thumb tacks. I smiled. In so many ways, men were so much simpler than women. They required food, TV, and a comfortable place to sit. This was taken care of by a scroungy lazy-boy that goodwill would even turn away.

He caught the direction of my gaze and looked a little bit abashed, “We’ll go into town this week and get you a place to sit.”

I laughed at him, “Can we get me a new one?” I teased.

He looked down at me and nodded.

He directed me to the bedrooms; luckily there were two of them. I had probably the larger of the two. It was an odd shade of age bleached green. It didn’t bode well for the long term liability of the decor.

“Can we get paint when we are in town?” I asked.

Again he smiled and nodded.

I tossed my pack on the unmade bed and dad had already gone outside to fetch my trunks. I sighed, so this was my life, a little green room, in a little green government building, in the middle of a big white nowhere.

I wondered what I was going to do, a girl from the big city in the middle of nowhere. I knew only my dad, I had no idea where the closest neighbor lived, but it could not be close considering that I had not seen any other housing for twenty minutes before we had arrived at the outpost. I had my laptop, but I began to worry that there would be no internet. I had not brought the cell phone; mom had been kind enough to cancel it for me after telling me there would be no reception here. I had never been a huge reader; maybe living in this place would make me learn. I gave up on the room and went back to the kitchen.

Now here was somewhere that I knew. It didn’t have all the tools I was used to, but it was a kitchen all the same with a stove and at least one knife. I opened the refrigerator door and to my horror, there was milk, cheese, and something covered in foil. The freezer wasn’t much better, it was filled with TV dinners, all pre-made of course. I closed both doors and put my forehead on the fridge, then beat it a few times in frustration.

“Are you planning on helping the fridge to grow?” dad asked in an amused voice.

I jumped a foot still holding onto the fridge handle.

“Because I know for sure that it doesn’t work.” He continued to tease.

I pursed my lips, “I was just expressing my disgust with your fridge’s lack of ability to fill itself,” I informed him, a bit defensively.

He smiled, “I know, also something we will have to remedy.”

“Tonight,” I replied, “I am not eating TV dinners.”

“And you used to be such a non-demanding child.”

“We all grow out of hot dogs and macaroni every night, eventually,” I replied.

“Well, let me put in a call to a friend of mine. We can get some basics at the local store, but somehow I think that the basics are not going to be up to par for you.” He turned to go through a door on the other side of the room. Then he stopped, “You want to see the office?”

I laughed, “Of course.” He had this way of making me feel like a little girl with the simplest of things. Nothing had changed. This was still my daddy.

“Who is this friend?” I asked as he disappeared into the also space office.

“Huh?” he asked looking up from the phone, “Hi, San? Its Blair... yeah, she’s here. She’s good, I think... A little disappointed at the lack of good food... well, maybe you’ve found a friend who can appreciate your tastes... I know, thanks... can we stop by?.. I understand... okay, whatever you think best... we’ll head out soon.” And he hung up the phone.

I was lost, “Was that a yes, or a no? I couldn’t tell.”

He smiled that Dad smile, “A yes, but he’s not up for company so he’ll leave it in a special place for us.”

“Cryptic. So, huh what kind of name is San anyway?”

He thought about that as he began hauling the second trunk in from the entry, “It sounds European to me, but I never asked.”

“As usual dad, you go for the good guy, no more information necessary route.” I waited for him to finish.

“What can I say? I am a man,” as if that explained it all.

We were back in the car in no time at all and cruising across the white plains.

“Dad?” I began, “Do you mind if I turn on some music. It is eerie how quiet it is when we drive out here.”

He laughed, more of a bark of humor than anything, “So long as it’s not terrible.”

After a few disagreements we settled for a mellow oldies CD I had brought to placate him. We could not have gone more than a few songs away from the outpost when we came to a large slope. It was hard to see when the whole countryside was white, but the road was definitely sloping down. Suddenly in the very close proximity was an unbelievably large house. It looked more than sturdy, built with thick stone and two stories high.

“This looks like a castle.”

He laughed again, “It does.” Again the male need for only the obvious frustrated me.

He went to the front door, motioning me to stay in the car. He came out only moments later with two heaping boxes of very fresh produce. That was even more peculiar than the huge castle of stone in the middle of the artic. How did someone grow such great produce in a stone castle in Alaska? This was someone that I needed to meet. Maybe he had it all shipped in and made his money supplying all the local restaurants... but there were no local restaurants. There was no local anything.

Dad opened the back door and put the boxes on the back seat. I inhaled deeply. It still smelled of warm earth. There were mushrooms, and all kinds of lettuce, there were vine tomatoes, and herbs of every variety. I smelled each one gratefully. They reminded me of warm wet Seattle. Of summer and gardening while my mom did other things inside with work. There were even mint leaves. Not that I made tea, but they reminded me of my old garden where a plant of mint grew between the walkway and the chimney. I had pulled it out a number of times, roots and all, but it always grew back. I had never used them for anything, but they smelled of home.

“Oh,” I remembered, turning around into my seat, “I forgot to ask if you have the internet.”

He laughed at that for real, “We may live in the middle of nowhere, but I work for the government and they require that I send weekly reports on various subjects. To get them there before spring, I have to have e-mail. You will also be pleased to know that it is a satellite uplink, which is the highest speed, except for when we are white-ed out.”

“White-ed out?”

He smiled again, “No snow comes down from the sky, but sometimes it blows around so hard that it might as well. You can’t see a foot.” His eyes never left the road.

“Gee that sounds pleasant.” Another thrill waiting for me here.

We arrived back at home and I packed one of the boxes of produce into the kitchen possessively. I plopped it down on the counter and dad set his beside mine. I opened the fridge and began piling them in order across the empty shelves. I was excited to find cucumber and squash of many varieties at the bottom. There was almost every vegetable and fruit that I could imagine stacked in Dad’s fridge. This was a definite improvement.

“Now to the store,” he said with a little sarcasm.

“We need to, I bet you don’t even have Olive oil,” it was meant to be a jab, as it would have been to my mom or anyone else in the city. Dad just shrugged his why would I and headed out to the car again.

Once in town we had a large list of chores. We began at a furniture store, which surprised me, until I thought that we were beginning with dad’s most important priority. We chose a chair I could comfortably sit sideways in. Mom would have disapproved of my choosing method, but I knew I would never hear my dad tell me to put my feet down. That would be too many words for no good reason. Then to the home improvement store for paint and to my surprise curtains and kitchen towels. I went with a desert orange and red. I was going to have way too much time on my hands so I might as well pick a complicated paint scheme. Especially if it would make me feel warmer. I was sure I was never going to thaw. I was introduced to everyone, by name, not that I would remember a single name, I was never any good at that, but they all seemed to know me.

Finally we headed to my favorite store, the grocery store. It was more of a grocery and various other things store. I dithered in the baking isle for a long time. In the end, dad decided that I should “buy it all” which really just meant I should hurry up and decided. That would have been too many words.

I winced as the one cashier announced “Two Hundred twenty three dollars and ten cents.”

Dad took it in stride, but didn’t hand the man money, “I believe there is something else for me. A special order?”

The man nodded and dad turned to me, “You should take this stuff out to the truck.”

I pushed the cart out and began putting bags in the back of the truck. Before I was done, dad was outside with a large box, still wrapped in paper.

“What is it?” I asked, putting another bag inside.

“You’ll see,” he replied and turned the engine over.

Now I was curious. Was it for me? How much money did my dad have that he had just dumped so much on my first day? I finished unloading and climbed into the passenger seat. I was quiet the whole way home, imagining all the good things it could be. It was too big to be a CD. It was too little to be a stereo, unless it was really expensive. It was too square to be new sheets....

We unloaded all the groceries through the little entry and again met in the kitchen to put them away. He handed them to me and I found them homes. At last all the bags were empty and I stood waiting for my gift.

“Should go get the chair,” he said, mischief giving him away as he went out to the truck again.

I gave up and began making dinner. It was dark already, but it had been going that way since we left the grocery store. I made pesto pasta with the fresh basil and tomatoes. We had French bread and fresh green beans. Dad had not even bothered with my gift until we were done, sitting in newly assembled chairs in front of ESPN.

“So, did you want to see what was in the box?”

I laughed. Dad didn’t need words and it really wasn’t a question.

He got up and fetched me the box. I tore away the brown paper to reveal a food processor. “Oh dad, thank you.” It would save me so much time and I loved kitchen gadgets.

I got up and hugged him, then sat down with the box in my lap to watch a show with my father. The one that wanted me. I was not in his way and that was nice. Better still, he gave me things I liked and not just the things that were trendy for kids my age or on sale. He was a good dad. Quiet, sturdy, good.

I fell asleep in the chair still holding my food processor. I heard my dad chuckle at me as he directed me to bed. I lay down on the bare mattress and he threw a blanket over me. I promised my drowsy self that I would unpack my sheets the next day.

A week passed with few changes.

I dropped Marie a line when I had finally figured out how to hook up dad’s wireless internet and could type in the peace of my room.

Dear Marie-

How’s Seattle? Is Patrick still being annoying? I think sickness of snow will be my constant sickness for the next few months. Dad is just as I remember him. The strong silent type, but always good. He brought me a food processor, wasn’t that nice? It is the most advanced tool in his kitchen.

-Daci

She replied with in an hour.

D-

To put it succinctly, Patrick sucks. I can’t relay many of the details, but I remember being furious. He kept saying the most ridiculous crap. Haven’t seen him in days. I wish I didn’t miss him at all, so I have been drowning my sorrows in a tall guy named Russell. Cool about the kitchen stuff, I know how much you dig useless appliances. Wish you were here to cook for me. Are there any high points about nowhere land, yet?

-Marie

Dad and I fell into a regular routine. I made dad gourmet meals and thanked him frequently for my kitchen supplies. All he ever said in response was;

“I should be paying you.” Or “Had I known what a good chef you were, I would have demanded your company sooner.”

In truth it was just very nice to be appreciated.

In the interim I was surprised to find that there had been no snow storms. I asked dad about this and he smiled his knowing smile and told me;

“Don’t worry, it will come. It always does.” From anyone else’s mouth it would have been an irritatingly patriarchal remark, but form dad it was just the truth.

It was Tuesday of my second week with dad when at our normal breakfast he cleared his throat.

“Yes?” I asked.

He looked serious, “I have a trip to go on. I have to check on some animal populations and will be gone for about a week.”

I blinked at him dumbly.

“I wanted to know what you would need while I was gone.”

Still dumbfounded, “A week?”

“Yes,” he waited for it to sink in.

“Transportation,” I replied, picking up my pancakes and sitting across the dinette from him.

He smiled, “Maybe I should spend the day teaching you how to drive the Artic CAT.”

“Drive a cat?” I shoved a bite into my mouth.

“Yes, it’s a snowmobile. It'll get you anywhere, but it is just a little slower than the truck on roads.”

So after breakfast we bundled up and spent the next few hours driving the CAT. I was almost as exciting as a motorcycle, but bigger. It was loud as it roared to under my seat, and it gave off the most comforting warmth. There was a huge storage bin attached to the back, which made it a bit unwieldy, but with it I could easily cart quite a bit around.

At lunch time we came in for warm tomato soup and sandwiches.

“Have you come up with anything else you will need before I go?” he asked, picking up on the conversation from the morning.

“Supplies,” I replied.

“After how much you spent at the store, I figured it would tide you over for longer than that.”

“No,” I disagreed, a little irritated at the implication of being so spendthrift, “I don’t need more from the store, and I need more veggies.”

“Oh,” was all he said, but the worried look on his face said so much more. I wondered at how that could be so much more to ask.

“Can’t you call your friend?” it seemed too simple to me.

“My friend is… complicated,” he muttered into his soup.

“I could pick it up,” I offered again just trying to be helpful.

This seemed to concern him more. After a few more moments he nodded his head in ascent, “I will call him.”

My curiosity was aroused. Especially as he continued to react so badly. Was he a recluse? Was he afraid of young girls? What could be so bad?

Dad called later as he had promised; only this time he closed the office door and I could hear none of what was said. I turned on a show to wait for him and pretend like I could manage to ignore this puzzle. I had a recipe book across my knees to keep me busy during the commercials. I could wait him out.

When he opened the door, he was wearing that very serious look that said ‘this is an adult matter and I expect you to be serious,’ “Daci, I talked to San. He said he would get supplies gathered for you. You can pick them up in the morning, but you must only go in far enough to get the boxes. He isn’t much for company. So, don’t disturb him.”

I nodded and the serious look left his face.

“Well, on to more exciting things. Let’s watch ESPN.”

He always thought that would be such an exciting highlight to me. It never was, but it was nice to be with dad, doing something he liked. Even if I thought that the big burly announcer had a brain the size of a pea.



It was very early when dad left. I heard the truck rumble to life not far from my room, but I rolled over and snuggled back down into my pleasantly warm bed. I was not getting up yet. Eventually I caved to the necessity of emerging from my bed. I wandered around the kitchen finding breakfast, and then sat at the table to read my father’s note.



Daci-

Went to work. Back in a week. When you go to Sandulf’s be cautious. Just get your things and get home. Don’t worry; he’s not bad, just reclusive. You can go into town if you need to. There is money in the desk in the office, don’t spend it all in one place, leave receipts. Make sure and shower, daily. Don’t do anything stupid.



Dad



I rolled my eyes. A boy note written to a boy. Someday, dad would realize I was a girl. I shoved the note away and kicked my feet up onto the table. Today was going to be good. I would have full reign of the shows I watched, no more ESPN for me. First, I thought I should go to get produce. That required a shower. It was noon, by the clock on my nightstand, when I finished primping and getting ready for the day. Normally I would not have taken that long, but I had no male company so there was no one to tell me otherwise. Not that it made much difference; I had to pile on herds of clothing to keep myself warm. Today was especially bad, it was blowing wind, and the sky was clear and cold.

I turned on the CAT and went back inside to pull on my scarf and a thicker pair of gloves. I waited another minute before bracing myself to head back out into the cold. The engine roared to life under me and a happy burst of adrenaline began coursing through my veins, also adding to the warmth. It was a long drive down the road to the castle house. I wondered a few times if I was going the wrong way, but I could not be because there were only two ways to go on the road and the city was the other way. I finally came to the steep hill and knew I was close. Ahead loomed the castle walls. Unfortunately, the wind had picked up fiercely and I was chattering as I located the house. I hadn’t seen the storm rolling across the sky. I would have had I looked away from my destination, but I hadn’t looked. As I came up to the front of the house, the first wave of the storm hit me, nearly throwing me from the CAT.

That was the first moment I turned to see unending sheets of white coming down. I began chattering harder. I could not drive the CAT home in this weather. I wanted to panic. First thing was to get inside. I would just sit inside the door for a few hours while the storm passed. I would not bother dad’s friend, but I was not so stupid to think that I was going to try and get home. That would just be a recipe for getting dead.



I pulled the key quickly from the CAT and dashed for where the front door had been. Already I could not see feet in front of my face. I found the handles and shoved open the door. It took more than a little effort to close them behind me. I slid down to the floor, my back against the glossy thick wooden door. The floor was oddly warm. I put my head in my arms, which rested across my knees. This was not how I had planned today to go. I was looking forward to hours of monotonous female TV. I looked up and saw the boxes of vegetables sitting next to me. I pulled an apple out and crunched into it. At least there was good food to eat.

Once I finished the apple and put the core down next to the box I began to wonder if I should open the door to see if the storm had passed. I stood up and made to haul at the handles.

“I wouldn’t,” a very deep rumbling voice came from the other side of the huge vaulted entry. I turned to scan the room, looking for a huge man who could make that voice. It was almost James Earl Jones, but maybe more like Mr. Jones after smoking four packs a day for years. It sent shivers down my spine, but not all of them were of the bad variety. I looked across the immaculately polished tile floor. No one. Up the beautifully kept double stair, no one. All the other dark mahogany doors around the entry were closed. I saw no one.

“Where are you?” I asked, no response, “Is that you Mr., Sandulf?”

“Yes,” he replied. The hall echoed to the point that I couldn’t place the sound.

“I am so sorry to have intruded like this. I meant to obey and not bother you. I just got caught in the storm...”

“You were supposed to come in the morning,” he replied, voice at once enticing and flat with irritation.

“Well,” was all I replied. I wanted to spew out a remark about his lack of manners, but bit my tongue, not wanting him to throw me back out into the snow.

“Could I get a drink?” I asked.

There was no reply for a few moments. “The kitchen is the second door on the left.”

“Thank you,” and I went for the door. It swung open easily and the polished floor continued on into the well lighted, but still empty room. I was amazed. It had all the tools of a real professional kitchen; I ran my hand over the stove with envy. Six gas burners. Two convection ovens. Granite counters tops all around and satin finished cabinets with spotless Titanium handles.

‘Oh the work I could do here,’ I told myself.

I looked in the cupboards until I found glasses, well not real glasses, but goblets. They would hold water and that was all I required of them. I went to the sink, again spotless, as if a cleaning crew had been in here only moments before. I traced the edge of the sink with my index finger. It was so beautiful, how all these things were so perfectly arranged. I was more than a little envious. Even the water seemed to have a rare perfection about it. I set the glass down by the sink after drinking and then went back to the entry.

“Thank you,” I said to the hidden Sandulf.

“You have a bit of a hard choice ahead of you,” he began, his voice at once a bit darker than it had been.

“And what choice is that?” I replied to the stairs.

“You have come here just as a week long storm has hit. You cannot safely head home until it has passed.”

“Oh....” I had really made a mess of this, “What is the choice?”

“What we are to do now.”

I waited and thought over my words carefully, not wanting to offend, especially considering what I had just learned. “Can I ask you something?”

There was a long pause, “One thing.”

“Am I so bad that you don’t want to even come out and talk to me?”

He barked a laugh out. “I am the so bad one, little girl. I don’t come out to spare you.”

“Oh, so you are the hunchback of Notre Dame huh?” I meant it as a joke, to try and lighten the mood.

“I am far worse.”

I hung my head, “then how shall we proceed?”

Again he paused. I waited looking at my toes trying to imagine what could be worse, was he bad inside as well, or was he so badly disfigured that he imagined himself unworthy to be seen.

“I will direct you to your room.”

“I am sorry you don’t want to be seen. Can I ask one more thing?” I continued, this time talking to my shoes.

“Yes,” the reply was very quiet.

“Are you worse inside or out?” I waited for the reply.

“Quasimodo was very good on the inside; it is hard to be as good as he was. Unfortunately, I am worse in both ways.”

“I have a hard time believing that such a kind voice could come from someone bad. Besides, my father likes you.”

There was again a long silence.

“What is your name, daughter of Blair Hickey?” It was again in a softer, almost regretful voice.

“Daci,” I replied with a smile, “Daciana, it means She-wolf. My father has always loved animals, so he named me one.”

This must have intrigued him enough to continue, “Well, she-wolf, I would ask if you are willing to submit that faith of yours to trial?”

I smiled, “You challenge my resolve? To what?”

“If you are so certain that I am good, I will let you see me. But, I must ask that if I am so bad that you do not wish to see me again, you tell me.”

“A common courtesy, but I will ask one in return. I am a little girl as you have said, and less quick than I would like to be. If I am frightened please forgive me and give me time to make the choice as to what I should do. As you said we do have a week.”

“As you wish... Are you prepared?”

I was sure that I was. In this beautiful place, so much perfection, he was going to be not so bad and I schooled my face to say so. Unfortunately I could not hold the look of indifference as long as I wanted to. From the shadows under the stair came an animal. He walked on two legs, but was covered with long black hair, the kind that would look right on a perfect faced model from India. His face was still in shadow. I imagined a werewolf, and I began to get nervous. ‘This is a man,’ I told myself, but my inside quivered without pessimism. He stopped half way into the light so that I could see his face. He had bright green eyes; they looked full of worry and scorn, not for me but for himself. I began to relax looking at those eyes, they were human.

I took one step towards him. He stepped back. I scowled.

“How am I supposed to decide if you are good if you don’t let me get a full look at you?” I demanded. It was easy to be angry. It washed all the fear away.

He was startled by the reaction. I took another step forward in experimentation. He didn’t move away again. I smiled at that. At least he was willing enough to trust me. I still on the other hand had a hard time not imagining him eating me. He looked like a creature out of a horror film. I was now close enough to reach out and touch him, but I did not. I looked at his hands, they were mostly human. He had claw like nails, but they probably would look normal if they were better cared for. He was completely covered in hair, and to my great amusement only wearing hair. He was taller than me, but so were most people. He might even have been as tall as one of the basketball players that dad made me watch all the time on ESPN, but TV might have skewed my perceptions. I supposed that other than the very heavy coat of hair that obscured most of his body, he was mostly normal, if very tall.

I was smiling at the idea when I got back around to the front of him.

“So you laugh at me,” he was severely offended.

“No, I was just amused with myself for one of the things I put on my mental list about you.”

His eyes warred between wanting to be offended and curiosity about what I found so funny.

“Don’t you want to know?” I teased, batting my eyes. I could imagine him as a man especially if I could begin to get him to react like one.

“What?”

“I was amused that you were wearing no clothes.”

He looked amused. “Not the reaction I expected. Let me show you to your room.”

We went up the stairs and followed a long hallway to its end. On the way there I continued to pester him.

“You like to be alone?”

He shook his head, “You don’t find many people willing to give me the shadow of the doubt, most would shoot me for a trophy. Not a good first impression.”

“I meant tonight.”

He stopped. He turned slowly to look at me.

“I don’t suppose you get TV?” I asked his green eyes.

“I do…” he replied, turning back to the hall.

“Are there any shows that you like?”

“There are…”

I pursed my lips, “not much of conversationalist are we?”

He stopped at the end of the hall, “Not much occasion.” He pushed open the door to his left.

It was a round room, which was beautiful in and of itself. I gasped. My eyes must have been popping out of their sockets. ‘W-O-W’ I said with my lips.

He chuckled again, and I understood the animal quality to his voice, “you are an odd person Daci, you gape at a well appointed room, but at a creature who talks like a man, you make jokes.”

“There are some things worthy of awe and some worthy of curiosity. This room, and the kitchen I might add, are worthy of awe. You, are worthy of curiosity, so far you have given me no reason to fear you.”

“Other than how I look,” he replied with great certainty.

“I have found that the most vile creature in the world often inhabit the most beautiful of bodies. You may turn out to be the opposite.”

I went over and ran my hands across the wood of the bed and then the sheets. Everything in this house was so perfect. I reached down and ran my hands in the rug, it was plush and soft, so much so that I sat and pulled off my shoes to wiggle my toes in it.

The curtains were heavy brocade velvet and the glass revealed only white, of the snow outside. I ran my hand over the leather inlay in the matching desk. Everything in this room was awe inspiring. I half expected that he had left me, but I turned back to see him watching every move that I was making.

‘I am amazed,” I informed him.

I guessed that I could see him smiled, “I enjoy you being amazed.” He replied, “But it raises one question for me. Are you amazed for the sake of being amazed, or because a creature such as me is surrounded by things such as these?”

I pursed my lips, put one hand on my hip and thrust it out to the side in irritation. “You ask me not to judge you and yet you have now decided a few times that I might be insulting you. I make you this promise, I will tell you directly any time I feel like being insulting. And in return I will ask that you actually do give me the benefit of the doubt.”

“You didn’t answer the question.”

“I just like how they feel and smell thank you. I would like them even if you looked like Adonis.”

He sounded very bitter in his reply, “If I looked like Adonis...”

I turned and looked him strait in the eyes. “Get over it. I don’t look like Aphrodite either.”

He was taken aback by that. I shrugged and began exploring again. Attached to the room was a bathroom to rival the roman baths. It was all tiles, maybe marble, but I had never seen marble before to know the difference. The tub was massive, easily big enough for San. It looked so inviting. I touched all the surfaces and looked hopefully out the window, but it was still just white opaque snow.

“What would you like to do, since it is still storming?” San asked.

“What do you do all day in a frozen waste land?”

This amused him, “There are quite a few things that we can do. I have a large house if you want to explore, I have a solarium we can go look at the plants, or we can go play video games.”

“Video games?” I was very sarcastic, “You like video games? Can you even play?”

He got defiantly male about his response, “I am actually very good.”

That made me laugh. “You are surprising too... What games do you have?”

“I have so many that I am not sure how to name them all for you.” He turned and gestured for me to follow him.

“I was really just asking, I think I would rather see the solarium. I have been curious about your produce since we came here last time.”

“Well, I can say of a certainty that you will not be disappointed.”

“So, that leads me to another question. Do you mind?’

He stopped, “Was that do I mind as the question or do I mind if you ask another question?”

“Do you mind if I ask another question.” I replied.

“By all means.”

“Do you think you are a bad person? And if so, how did you come to this conclusion?” I was very serious about this.

“I think I am not a good person. And I would say that my life has said it is true.”

“Well, that is silly.” I retorted, irritated by his off the cuff manner.

“You are saying that my method is silly, or I am.” He continued to lead me across the house, past the stair and in the opposite direction of my room.

“Both. I think deciding you are bad because of bad circumstance is ridiculous.”

“So, now I am ridiculous?”

“If I were to use your criteria, then I am a bad person too, just because of what life has given me.”

“Then, maybe I am wrong. You are not a bad person.”

“Neither does it seem that you are.”

“That remains to be seen.”

He brokered no room for further discussion as he came to the end of the hall. It was none the different from the one that held my room; one could easily be confused as to where you were. He opened the door quickly and I was surprised to be looking into a two story solarium. The ceiling was glass panels with lights hanging almost a story down in some places and very high in others. That was not the most amazing part. The most amazing things were the plant life. This was no ordinary solarium. It had a raised bed garden, a raised bed orchard, and all varieties of food that could be imagined. I walked down the stairs in front of me in amazement. It was fabulous, a little piece of a fertile world within the artic realm. The air was warm and wet. I basked in the feel.

Once at the bottom of the stair, I stopped and sat on one of the raised beds. The earth within was dark and fertile. I scooped up a handful and smelled it. It was the smell of childhood. It was the smell of my garden in Seattle. I loved the smell of plant worthy dirt. I looked over the fragrant tomato plants at the apple trees.

“Do you like this place?”

I turned and looked at the still startling San. “Yes, very much. I could spend years here.”

He smiled that for some reason made him very happy. “I have.” He turned from me and went away towards the orchard. I followed, curious about the other secrets of this house. On the other side of the orchard was a long rough wood potting table. It held files of seeds and baskets with innumerable tools, fertilizers, and composts.

“Would you like to plant something?” he asked me as he reached the table.

He knew I had followed him, and why would I not have, he kept showing me more interesting things.

“Is there anything that you do not already have growing here?” I asked rhetorically as I walked up right next to him to see what he would have me plant.

“There are a few things that I struggle to grow.” He handed me a small seed from a packet and pushed an old cracked enamel pot towards me.

I pushed the soil around for a moment, thinking what to ask, “How deep does it need to go?” I looked up at him. His smell amazed me. It somehow was very nice, potent and almost animalesque, but really good almost enough to make me want to smell him more closely, but I resisted.

“It actually does not matter.” He replied.

“How can it not matter, it matters with everything.”

“Well, maybe I should say, I do not know. I have never successfully grown this plant.”

I laughed at that, “You, an expert gardener have never successfully grown this, and you ask me a mere novice to help you? Are you expecting beginner’s luck?”

“Stranger things have happened. That is why they call it beginner’s luck.”

I thought about that, again he seemed to be asking an unrealistic question, but what would it hurt me to try. “What is it?”

He took a moment to answer as if deciding how much to tell me. “A rose.”

“A rose, a hybrid of some sort?”

“Yes,” but his smile was crooked, “of some sort.”

“Well, most roses like a half-inch of soil and maybe do you have vermiculite?”

He liked the answer. “How much would you like?”

“I think half- vermiculite, half-soil,” I told him. “Do you have and rooting hormone?”

This also surprised him, “Yes,” he handed me a small container. I looked for a pair of gloves, but there were none on the table, so I opted for a tiny spade. I dropped the seed in the hormone and then shoveled it out again. It was covered by white powder. I plopped it into the pot and covered it with a bit of soil. I looked up at him expectantly.

“Where should I put it?”

“Anywhere you like, but you should look in on it regularly and see if you have more luck with it than I have.”

“Somewhere with other roses,” I told him, “I don’t think it would do well to try somewhere that was set up for other plants.”

He nodded and began leading again. Past the potting area, past the orchard, in another direction from the garden, was the rose garden. It was magnificent, and so fragrant. It not only contained roses, but flowers in amazing abundance. They were so magnificent. One area was empty, right at the heart of the flower garden.

“Is this area seeded?” I asked.

“No, I hadn’t decided what to put there yet.” He looked at it in irritation.

“Well, this will do fine then.” I set the pot on the ground in the bed and began looking for a watering can.

“What are you seeking?” he followed my gaze.

“Water.” I replied distantly.

“Here,” somehow he had a can in his hand in moments.

“Thank you.” I watered the little seed carefully, watching the soil absorb water.

“Would you like to help me with other things around here, you seem to have a talent.”

That was all that needed to be said and I most willingly was up to my elbows in soil, quickly forgetting that it was either the middle of a snow storm or the middle of the tundra. The day was very nice, we talked, Sandulf and I about small things, favorite colors, favorite things to eat, good books, good movies, good friends, unfortunately I had more in the last Category then he did, and understandably so.

It was getting very late when he asked another question, “Would you mind if I proposed a game?”

I was amused, “Don’t you think we are a little old for games?”

“No, this one I think we are not. I would propose that you come up with one question every day about anything you want. Sometimes you can stretch it to two questions if one does not quite cover it. And we will begin our conversation every day with those questions. You can go first and when we have exhausted the subject, I will ask you mine.”

I smiled, “Fair enough.”

“So, I ask you my question for the day. What is your favorite breakfast food?”

“That is easy.” I replied glad for a simple question, seeing, as I was very tired. “Eggs Benedict. I love hollandaise sauce. My grandmother used to make them just for us and they still give me the feeling of well being and acceptance.”

He nodded and then began leading me to my room. Once there he turned to leave, “I didn’t get to ask you a question,” I yawned in mid-sentence making it less effective. He still turned and waited for the question.

“You don’t seem tired, do you sleep?”

“No,” he replied, “But sleep well, Daci, I will see you when you wake up in the morning.”

“How will I find you?” I asked.

“I will find you.” And he was gone.

I looked at my filthy clothes, “and what will I wear?” I shook my head. I should have come with clothes, but I hadn’t known I would be a house guest for a week. On the counter by the sink was a toothbrush, in package, a hair brush, face soap, and other female hygiene items. I was so grateful. Maybe clothes would appear in the morning too. I bathed in wonderfully hot water and lots of soap. I climbed into bed in my underwear, pulled out the laptop he was letting me use and set about typing a note to Marie.

Mar-

Weirdest thing, you’ll never believe me if I tell you all the details. I am snowed in with what amounts to a beast. As in side show looking guy. He’s got a bad temper and assumes the worst whenever possible, but I think there may be something good in there. Maybe that is just me being classic me and going for the crazy, but there it is.

-Daci

When I finished I set it down by the bed and was within moments asleep.



I dreamed very little and morning came quickly, not that the light changed that much, it was impossible to see any light, due to the thick snow that continued to fall. I yawned and looked over at my clock that said I should be up already. So, I trudged to the bathroom and found my clothes clean and piled by the sink. Now I wished I had gone to bed naked. I showered again to get the smell of sleep off of me, brushed my teeth, and got dressed. I jumped back up on the bed to check if I had a response yet.



D-

What kind of freak show are we talking about here? Too many arms or snake boy? And please tell me after all we’ve been through that you are not serious about him. Oh and no more Russell. I gave him up and started going after a burly Mexican guy strangely named John.

-Mar



I shook my head at her as I responded.



Marie-

He’s… strange. Frankly a bit too hairy for any normal guy, but the simple look of his brilliant eyes makes me shudder. The good kind of shuddering, the kind that makes you want to reach out and make-out with someone. You’d be impressed with how tall he is. His house is something else altogether. He even has a garden inside! Not that you can grow one anywhere else.

-Daci



I close the computer again and took my brush with me and combed out my hair as I went down to the kitchen. My stomach was protesting to my getting up process, and I would have to find food quickly to quiet it. I entered a quiet kitchen and found a grapefruit in the fridge as well as a knife, spoon, and sugar. As I ate I contemplated what my question for the day should be. What should I ask? There were so many things that I wanted to know.

I decided to wait for him to ask his question first, they always led me to something good to ask. I left the rind of the grapefruit sitting on the counter, unsure what else to do with it. San would tell me.

Where was San? Maybe I should go out to the green house. I would be there if I had a choice.

I wandered out to the solarium and went among the many rows of plants, breathing deeply of the damp air. I looked for him among the vegetables, but he wasn’t there. I looked in the orchard, but couldn’t find him. I finally came to the rose garden and there he was, sitting next to the pot I had planted, examining it closely.

That made me smile, “You know roses take quite a bit of time to sprout,” I told him from feet away.

He was startled and put the flower down quickly. Once he saw me he relaxed again.

“I didn’t expect you for a while still; I understood that people of your age like to sleep half of the day away.”

I shook my head, “why would I want to with such a lovely garden to explore?”

He bowed in thanks, “I have worked a long time on this place, I am glad that it brings you joy.”

“So,” I tried to change the subject to a more comfortable one, “What are we doing today? More roses?”

He smiled, “No, today we have to work on the cacti.”

“You grow cacti?” I looked around in astonishment.

“Not in this room, but yes, will you help me?”

“What else is there?” it was rhetorical, but he didn’t understand that.

“Well, I suppose we could...”

I interrupted that, “I was being factitious.”

He nodded, “Then to the cactus?”

“Yes.”

The stone wall against the rose garden also contained a door, this one led to a very hot and dry room, although not extremely unpleasant. It was full of sand. I stopped to take off my shoes.

“Be cautious where you step without shoes,” he warned me.

“Okay,” I tied my shoes back up. With my luck I would find the worse cactus and step on it. We walked through huge bright pink flowered shrubs, and purple ones, and yellow ones, there were saguaro cacti stretching up towards the ceiling, but not the kind with only two arms like you see on post cards, but some had ten or more arms and the little ones had none. There were palm trees too. I liked the one that looked like a big pineapple sitting on the ground. They were all trimmed to perfection.

There was a potting table in this room as well, and there were small round cacti sitting in little pots, which they filled to the brim.

“These have outgrown their little homes and are ready to be transplanted.” He picked up a few pots and directed me to do the same. We walked over to a raised bed and sat down on the edge. It had larger varieties of the same cacti. He handed me a very thick pair of leather gloves and began by dumping the little cactus on its head in the open soil.

“What are these called anyway?” I asked as I toppled my little cactus into the soil.

“They are called yellow barrel cactus.”

“So, I have come up with my question for the day. Are you ready?”

“I am. Ask away.”

“Why a garden?” I asked.

“Do you mean why grow a garden?’

“Kind of. I mean, why did you choose to grow a garden? What was it about a garden that you liked?”

“That is easy enough. I have a hard time helping people because of how I look. As you might guess, they don’t readily except me, and I am not so willing to be rejected that I seek them out. So I garden.”

“So you don’t mind being alone?”

“It is peaceful here and I have all that I need. More than most.”

“Don’t you miss people?”

“I did. Until I had the pleasure of your company.”

I stopped and looked at him. I knew my big question for the next day; today I would continue to explore this one.

‘But I still am unsatisfied.”

“I will try again. I would like to help people, but they do not like me to be close to them. The plants on the other hand don’t seem to mind my looks too much.”

I giggled at that and pulled another cactus from its pot and made a hole for it in the ground.

“They need my help. All they ask is time and I have more than enough of that to give them.”

“So, you are here everyday with the plants?”

He looked at me, “Yes.”

I nodded.

We spoke about the plants for most of the day. At lunch time he invited me to have a meal with him, I accepted as long as I was not the meal. He almost found that funny. We went back to work on the cacti in the afternoon. After lunch he posed his question to me.

.