This is the second installment of a fantasy story that I am posting here. You can find the first installment here. 

II.

Bordertown, Kalambra

The day was bright and cloudless but the sun offered no warmth. The two younger priestesses cinched their pale blue robes more tightly about themselves and scowled down at the mud that was soiling their hems, while the two older priestesses stepped forward to greet their newest novice, their faces schooled to conceal their discomfort. Jezelah Delgah moved tentatively to meet them, looking small and lost in her brand new robes, the rapidity of the small puffs of mist in the cold air betraying the quickness of her nervous breaths. The priestesses embraced her each in turn and the small crowd that was gathered looked on with awed pride.

Andra stomped her heavy boots against the ground and rubbed her gloved hands together, wondering how her sister was managing to keep so still in the simple novice robe, while she herself was freezing in her thick leathers and heavy, fur-lined cloak. Jezzie glanced towards where she stood slightly separated from the other townspeople and she smiled reassuringly, glad when the younger girl was able to manage a small smile in return. She was proud to be entering servitude, Andra knew, but she was also terrified, sad to be leaving their mother and it was only Andra’s reminder that she would also be leaving their brother-in-law that had convinced her not to change her mind and stay on the farm where she had been born and lived all the twelve years of her life.

“I am glad I was never chosen for a priestess,” she said, when her sister had turned her attention back to the other women.

Davin snorted. “A lucky escape, I’m sure,” he said, but there was no harshness to his words and he pulled her towards him and enfolded her in his warm embrace, kissing the top of her head affectionately. She threw a playful elbow into his ribs but grabbed his arms before he could move away from her, pulling him closer to her and leaning her head against his chest.

He was right. The priestesses of Ylla were paragons of feminine virtue – pious and demure and chaste – and she was nothing of the sort. As a child she had made herself into the son her father had always wanted but never had; at Jezzie’s age she had fought to join the Watch as an apprentice and had succeeded, despite strong opposition. She was many things, both good and bad, but a likely candidate for a priestess she was not.

The eldest of the priestesses finished her ritual blessing of Jezelah and Andra looked across the crowd for her mother. She caught sight of her brother-in-law instead, his eyes fixed firmly on her and disapproval emanating from him like vapour. She glared back at him and knew Davin must have spotted him also when she felt him stiffen. He tried to pull back from her, wanting to save her trouble later, but she clung to him tightly, refusing to capitulate to Gareth in any way.

Gareth looked away and Andra smiled smugly to herself, but as she glanced around she noticed that others were throwing looks her way also and that two of the women in the crowd were very obviously discussing her in unkind terms. Her smile faltered at this reminder that her brother-in-law was not the only person who disapproved of her. “Perhaps I should go into the Wastes, after all.”

She spoke to herself, but Davin answered her. “That’s not a life,” he said. Andra said nothing in reply, not wanting to hurt him, but the thought was clear in her mind: Neither is this.

She wandered aimlessly about the town, waiting for her shift to begin, not wanting to go home. She couldn’t face the thought of home without feeling her anger rise immediately to the surface. Not just anger at Gareth, but also at her mother for letting him declare himself as head of their household, and at her half-sister for choosing such a boorish man to marry. At her father too, though such anger was always accompanied by stronger feelings of guilt. He hadn’t chosen to leave them; it was not his fault he had died.

She found herself at the door to the inn and considered going in to eat. Davin had asked her back to his parents’ house but she hadn’t felt like company. She did not even really feel like eating, and truly it was not the thought of food that enticed her. She drew her hand back from the door, resisting the temptation of planting herself in a corner and drinking until the inn closed. She could. Manus would have no trouble finding someone to cover her shift, and she knew he wouldn’t blame her for it. But she refused to let herself wallow. She was better than that, stronger than that.

She turned from the door to see Manus striding towards her. He hailed her and she frowned at the grim look on his face. “What is it?” she asked.

The door opened behind her and a man stumbled drunkenly out, blinking into the sudden daylight. He caught sight of them, grinned and sketched a wobbly salute. Andra smiled back. “Not working tonight?”

The man shook his head; stumbled with the movement and grinned again. “Nope,” he said. “Enjoy the cold.” He put on a serious face and gave another salute. “Captain,” he said, and walked unsteadily away.

Andra turned back to the Captain of the Watch, to find Manus still frowning after the other man. 

“Let’s go back to barracks,” he said. “This is a private matter.”

They walked the short distance in silence, Andra nervously hurrying to keep pace with the captain’s naturally long stride. She was a tall girl, but he was a tall man and stood head and broad shoulders above her. He opened the door and held it for, and she preceded him into the gloomy interior of the barracks.

He shut the door behind them and looked quickly about to ensure they were alone. “Gareth has made application to the Council to have you declared as shameful to the family,” he said.

Andra gaped at him in disbelief, too shocked to find words to respond. “The Council refused, of course. They’re not stupid enough to risk angering the Watch. But Gareth reminded them that they are bound by law to investigate.”

She stared at him. She knew of the law, but it was so little used that she was not familiar with the intricacies of it. “How-” she started and stopped, not even knowing how to ask the question that would give her answers she sought. She opened her mouth to try again, but Manus stopped her.

“It doesn’t need to be a majority of the town. There only need to be enough folk for the Council to form a reasonable opinion that your family suffers as a result of your reputation.”

“What does that mean?”

 “They’ll look for any men who refuse to trade with your brother-in-law, any women who habitually snub your mother or sister.”

He spoke calmly and kept his face deliberately free of emotion, but she had known him all her life and she could read his anger in the rigidness of his body; the straightness of his spine.

“They’ll find them,” she said, and he nodded.

“Yes they will,” he agreed.

“And then they’ll send me to live in seclusion with the priestesses.”

“Not necessarily. Gareth will have the option of marrying you to a man that he deems suitable.”

She laughed, completely without humour. “I would rather go to live with the priestesses.”

Manus watched her for a moment in silence. She looked away, unable to meet his eyes when tears were gathering in her own. “I won’t let this happen,” he promised, his quiet words still loud in the silence of the empty room.

Andra shook her head. “Don’t fight the Council, Manus,” she said. “I’ll find my own way.”

It was a long, hard climb from the barracks to her night’s post in the mountain pass, but Andra was glad of it. It gave her time to think, while the exertion left her no energy for emotion. She was being unfair to her mother and sister, she decided. She couldn’t assume that they even knew of Gareth’s plans, let alone supported him in them. She couldn’t imagine that her mother would so easily agree to have her daughter disposed of, especially so soon after she had lost her youngest daughter to the priestesses. And while her relationship with her older half-sister had never been an easy one, she knew that Bianca respected her. Even if she hadn’t, she had certainly respected and loved her stepfather and she knew that he had been proud of his daughter. No, she decided. They couldn’t know. She would go to them and tell them, and they would put an end to Gareth’s plans before the Council could even begin their investigation.

She felt calmer for a while, but her solo watch on the ledge above the mountain pass was long and cold and her thoughts would not relent, wavering between absolute faith in her mother and sister and the certainty that Gareth had somehow convinced them that what he was doing was in her own best interests. As the night slowly passed she wished repeatedly that she had taken up Manus’ offer to change shifts with Nyko and go instead with Davin to guard the mountain road. She wanted to talk with him, in part to distract herself from her own thoughts, but also because he would reassure her and in the long, dark night, she craved reassurance.

She heard them before she saw them. They were trying to be quiet and making a better than fair job of it, but in the silence of the night every tiny pebble that was dislodged underfoot made a sound that travelled for miles. She estimated there were more than two, fewer than five. She stayed in place until she could see them, and counted three dark shapes making their way through the dark. She made her precarious way from the ledge down to the narrow path as quietly as possible, counting on their noise to hide her own.

She waited until they were almost on her before she challenged them, her sword already in hand and easily within striking distance of the first of them. They were forced by the path to walk single file and they almost walked into each other as they stopped suddenly. She noted that they didn’t though. Their reflexes were good, they were heavily armed and they travelled under cover of darkness. She blew the whistle in her mouth before asking them a single question, already deducing that whatever business they were on, it wasn’t good. She was too far away from anyone for the whistle to bring help, but it would let the others of the Watch know that someone was attempting to cross the border.

They responded by reaching for their weapons, but Andra had the advantage and she had buried her sword in the first man’s flesh before his own was out of its sheath. She pushed him backward into the others as she drew her blade from his belly but the man behind him simply pushed his companion easily aside, sending him toppling over the edge of the mountain and out of his way. Her only advantage now was that the narrowness of the path prevented them from attacking her simultaneously.

The man before her began to attack. He was skilled and though she fended off each stroke, he left her no time to mount her own attack, pushing her backwards as she struggled to maintain her defence. He was bigger than her, stronger, and his strokes were heavy, each one jarring her arm. She walked backwards, glad she knew the path so well, and finally finding an advantage as his own unfamiliarity with the path caused him to stumble slightly. She attacked, got him on the defensive long enough to reach with her left hand and draw her other sword from its sheath.  She cursed herself for not drawing both to begin with. It was arrogance, pure and simple- outside of training she had never had to fight anyone who matched her skill.

She was on a more even par with both swords, but still the sheer strength of his attack continued to drive her backwards. She risked a quick glance at the man behind, and saw he was following, ready to pounce should the second of his companions fall. She couldn’t keep going as she was. Her right arm was already growing weary; even if she managed to defeat this foe, she would have little left for the last. The path widened slightly and she stepped into a little nook in the side of the mountain and put her back to the rock. She knew she was more open to attack from both of them now. If she gave them even a second to rearrange themselves she would be forced to fend them both off at once. She was slightly protected by the rock face and the man in the front moved to where he could get at her, so focused on her that she doubted he even noticed he had put his back to the edge of the path. She blocked his strike and moved her whole body forward. He took a reflexive step back, close to the edge, and she used her body weight to push him backwards. He swung his arms wildly to try to catch his balance, but in vain.

She turned to meet the last man’s attack, but too late. His sword caught her in her side and all she could do was pull him to her and hold on with all her strength as she too, fell from the edge.