Chapter 50
Maylie
Thirteen winters old
A FLURRY OF knocks at the cottage door.
‘Coming,’ Maylie called. She wrung the cloth in her hands and draped it across Tadrie’s forehead. Her aunt lay in bed, eyes closed, wheezing.
More knocking.
‘I said, I’m coming!’
Maylie marched to the door and kicked it open, frowning. A nasty, late-summer sickness was running rife in the village, and she expected this was a request for yet another draft of tonic to settle a stomach.
‘Your sister needs you,’ said Chrisanie.
Maylie was so shocked to see him that it took a moment to register what he had said. She looked at the ruffled wisps of his dark hair, then down at his clumpy boots and back up again.
‘You’ve got to come quick.’
Maylie occasionally spoke to Chrisanie at the schoolhouse. They walked the same route home in the afternoons and would sometimes stroll side by side through the village, chattering about this and that. But Chrisanie had never come knocking for her before.
‘It were just announced that Ravie will wed,’ said Chrisanie. ‘And your sister got upset in the main square.’
Maylie winced. ‘Ravie will wed?’ She was not really surprised.
‘Yes. A girl from Morccia. The mams have arranged it. ’Tis the news everyone’s talking about this morning.’
Maylie could easily imagine the state her sister would be in now. She glanced behind her at the dark room. A hump lay in the bed on the far wall, moaning.
‘I can’t leave.’
‘I’ll watch your aunt till you come back.’
‘You’re sure?’ asked Maylie, but she was already stepping outside.
Chrisanie nodded, though he looked uncertain, as if he had surprised himself with his offer of help.
‘Keep the cloth on Tadrie’s head cool,’ Maylie instructed. ‘And don’t open the curtains. The light hurts her eyes.’ She hurried down the path towards the village; then, after a few paces, she stopped and called, ‘Thank you!’ over her shoulder, before breaking into a run.
Hot and panting, Maylie burst into the main square. She heard the screeching sobs of her sister before she saw Esmelie, slumped beside the doors of the Sanctuary. It was a shockingly public and dramatic reaction even for Esmelie, but Maylie’s sister had been acting strangely recently.
The minster hovered near by, sometimes bending to whisper a few soothing words, which went ignored, before desperately looking about for help.
The rest of the villagers had resolutely turned their heads away, but Maylie could see them glancing and whispering to one another.
It was not difficult to guess what they were saying.
‘Here’s your sister!’ cried the minister in relief when he saw Maylie.
Esmelie’s loud keening did not waver.
‘We should get her home,’ he added.
They hoisted Esmelie upright and half dragged her out of the square. She hung between their supporting arms, crying all the way, her brown curls falling over her face.
When they reached their cottage, Maylie dragged Esmelie over the threshold and said, ‘I can manage now.’
The minister tried to protest, but Maylie insisted. Pap might be in his bedroom and if he came out to find the minister in the kitchen, there would be a whole different sort of scene.
‘I’m at the Sanctuary if you need me,’ said the minister, before finally disappearing in a flutter of purple robes.
As soon as they were alone, Maylie crept up to Pap’s bedroom door and listened. All was quiet inside. He must be out. That was some good fortune.
‘What’s happened?’ she asked, turning back to her sister.
Esmelie gulped. ‘I went to get bread from the bakery and Beatrovie asked if I’d heard the news of the upcoming wedding.
She took great pleasure in telling me all about it.
’ Esmelie wailed and covered her face with her hands.
‘It can’t be true. Ravie won’t take that other girl.
We’ve promised ourselves to each other.’
Maylie chewed on her lip. Their aunt had warned Esmelie many times that one of the Governor’s sons would not be wedding the daughter of the village drunkard. But Esmelie had always insisted otherwise.
Maylie poured a cup of milk from the pitcher on the table and handed it to her sister. It was a little sour, but better than nothing. ‘What does Ravie say?’
‘I’ve not seen him yet, but he’ll be as upset as I am. He loves me.’ Her voice wobbled and she burst into a fresh gush of tears.
‘But if Ravie’s mam’s decided it …’ Maylie’s voice trailed off.
In the Mountain villages, the mams presided over the weddings of their offspring and no match could be made without their blessing.
‘I don’t care.’ Esmelie sat up and wiped the back of her hand across her face. Her eyes were pinched and red. She took a deep breath. ‘We’re going to run away together. We’ve been planning it.’
Maylie stared.
‘Don’t look at me like that, May. You’re coming too.’
Maylie sat down on one of the hard, wooden chairs at the table. Their cottage was larger than Tadrie’s with a kitchen and two bedrooms, but it was sparse and plain. Most items had been sold to settle Pap’s debts.
‘We can’t leave.’
‘What else are we going to do, May? There’s no reason to stay.’ Esmelie’s jaw was set, her gaze steady and fixed.
‘But, Auntie—’
‘She’s dying. And when she’s gone, we’ll be all alone. With Pap.’
Maylie gulped. Tadrie’s health had been declining for several winters, and lately she had grown even weaker, the round, solid woman replaced with a shrunken, frail figure.
Maylie had been trying to ignore it, but her sister was right.
Tadrie would not recover from this sickness.
The end was fast approaching, and no elixir or potion could stop it.
‘I’m Auntie’s apprentice,’ said Maylie. ‘Silicia needs me.’
‘Those people don’t care nothing for us! Didn’t you just see how they treated me? Pap will sell Auntie’s cottage and he’ll drink or gamble the flecks away. You need to be realistic.’
Tears bit the back of Maylie’s throat. She sniffed.
‘I’m sorry.’ Esmelie climbed to her feet and put a hand on Maylie’s shoulder. ‘I’m not trying to upset you, I just want you to see that you have to come with me. I won’t leave you here alone with Pap.’
‘But you’re only sixteen winters old.’
Most girls did not wed before their nineteenth winter; they waited to be free of the Maiden Sacrifice first.
‘It doesn’t matter,’ said Esmelie. ‘We’ll lie about our ages and change our last names. No one will be able to come after us.’
Maylie chewed at her lip. ‘If you run away, Ravie will definitely go too?’ she asked.
‘Of course. He loves me.’
Maylie wanted to believe it. She sighed and rose to her feet. ‘I need to get back to Auntie,’ she said. ‘I left a friend watching over her.’
Esmelie took a sip of milk and winced. ‘Ravie and I can’t wait too long, May,’ she warned. Her voice was soft but firm. ‘We want to leave before midwinter.’
Maylie paused by the front door. ‘Where will you go?’ she asked.
‘To the capital. To Tormale.’ A dreamy smile stretched across Esmelie’s mouth. ‘I’ve always wanted to see it. And you will come too, won’t you?’
Maylie sighed. ‘I’ll think about it,’ she muttered. ‘I need to get back to Auntie now.’
But even as she turned away, Maylie knew there was no question of her staying. She would follow her sister anywhere.