Chapter 2
ELOWIN
Birdoswyn Abrecan Cranhawc-Hazelthorn.
The name was taller than he was.
He was nothing like I’d been expecting. I supposed I didn’t know exactly what I’d been expecting when Aldian had sent me to fetch him, but it wasn’t this.
He was short and delicate looking, with brown eyes, freckles, and ludicrously long hair.
He was wearing some sort of complicated doublet with far too many laces and leggings that looked gossamer thin.
His soft shoes wouldn’t survive the first puddle on the walk to Everend Market.
His mother evidently thought the same.
“Is there…” she asked in a lyrically ascending note, peering around me at the children who’d escorted me to the house. “Is there a carriage?”
“No,” I said. “There is no carriage.”
The three of them stared at me.
“My apologies,” I said. “I wasn’t told one was expected. Uh, I’m Elowin, the prince’s envoy.”
“And how long is the walk to Everend Market?”
“Two days.” I looked again at the young man I’d been sent to fetch, taking into account his small stature. It would probably take two of his strides to match one of mine. “Perhaps three,” I amended.
“That’s quite a trek. Are you sure there isn’t a carriage?” She peered past me again, as if hoping one might magically appear by virtue of her wishing hard enough, and her lips pressed together in a thin line when the rutted dirt path remained carriage-free.
“I’m quite sure,” I said. I got the impression that Birdoswyn’s mother had been expecting a lot more fanfare for the collection of the Fyreham Lathian, but the truth was, the tradition was centuries out of date.
I’d been sent at the last minute after a letter had arrived for Aldian advising him that the Lathian would be attending the marriage markets and requesting that an escort be sent to collect him.
I’d barely had time to pack a rucksack, let alone lay hands on a carriage.
The trip here had been pleasant enough, but then I was someone who enjoyed my own company, and it was no hardship spending time outdoors.
Now I wondered if the return journey might be too much for the prince’s potential future husband, who looked like a stiff breeze might carry him away.
I still wasn’t quite sure what to make of him.
“I don’t mind if we walk,” Birdoswyn said, stepping forward and causing his impressively long hair to fan out behind him. “It sounds like fun.”
Lucky, since it wasn’t like he had a choice. Still, I appreciated his positive outlook—although his outlook wouldn’t carry him along a forest path any more than those flimsy slippers would. “Might I enquire as to whether you own any other shoes?” I asked. “Something more…”
Sturdy. Practical. From this century.
I settled on, “Suitable for the road.”
Birdoswyn—goddess, that really was a woeful name—glanced down at himself and gave a rueful smile. “Of course. Let me go and change.”
He turned and disappeared back up the narrow staircase, and after a moment his mother remembered her manners. “Would you like to come inside while we wait?”
I accepted her offer gratefully, and she led me through the house to a small parlor.
The decor was painfully old-fashioned, with woven wall hangings in muted shades of navy blue, ornate candlesticks on the mantel, and carved oak chairs.
The room looked like it might have been decorated by my grandparents. Or perhaps even their grandparents.
I took a seat, which creaked ominously. I pretended not to hear it and instead accepted the offer of a glass of elderflower cordial and some food while we waited.
Several loud thumps and bangs floated down from upstairs, along with what sounded like a single muffled curse word, and I pretended not to hear that either.
Birdoswyn’s mother held out a plate containing crackers with what was possibly cheese balanced on them. I took a bite of one and instantly regretted it. The cheese tasted like betrayal and sadness. I managed to get it down and refused the offer of a second one.
In an effort to chase the taste away, I took a cautious sip of the cordial—and then immediately took another larger sip when the flavors burst across my tongue, surprisingly tart and refreshing and with a hint of bubbles.
“This is delicious,” I said.
Birdoswyn’s mother gave a pleased smile. “There’s a touch of Birdoswyn’s magic in that.”
“It’s lovely,” I said. I drained the rest of the glass, which was probably bad manners but I couldn’t bring myself to care, not when it felt like I was tasting the bright splashes of color that might be found in a springtime garden.
I licked my lips and asked, “So your son is gifted in earth magic?”
“Yes,” his mother said, a little too firmly to be convincing. “He’s very talented. Which I’m sure Prince Aldian already knows from the letters I’ve sent. I’m sure they’ll be an excellent match.”
She looked so hopeful that I didn’t have the heart to tell her that the only thing Aldian knew about her son was that he existed, so I just nodded.
The clattering stopped, and then there was the sound of footsteps treading lightly down the stairs. “That will be Birdoswyn,” his mother said, leaping to her feet.
I followed her out to the kitchen, where I found Birdoswyn waiting.
“Is this better?” he asked. He’d changed out of the ridiculous doublet and pretty but impractical slippers and into a far more sensible shirt and breeches and a pair of well-worn boots.
His rucksack was stuffed so full that it was in danger of tipping him over backward, and his hair was still loose, but he looked more prepared for a three-day walk than he had before.
The fingers of one hand twisted nervously in the hem of his linen shirt, and I felt a stab of something like sympathy for him. I flashed him an encouraging smile and said, “Much better. And it’s a pleasant enough trip to Everend Market.”
“I’ve never even been outside of Hillstowe,” he said, “so it will be an adventure.” Then he grinned widely, and with his face wreathed in smiles he was nothing short of adorable. I wondered if maybe the prince would be interested in him after all.
We stood there awkwardly until I cleared my throat and said, “Thank you for your hospitality, but we should be on our way. We do have quite a long journey.”
“Of course,” Birdoswyn’s mother said. She leaned in and gave him a quick hug. “Just think, next time we see you, you’ll be marrying the prince!”
Something like doubt flitted across his features, there and gone again in a second before he squared his shoulders and said, “Of course, Mother.”
His parents both bid him farewell, and we walked through the small wooden gate at the end of the garden path, where a cluster of villagers was still watching and waiting.
It wasn’t quite a crowd, but some enterprising fellow was selling roasted chestnuts all the same.
I got the feeling this was the most exciting thing to happen in Hillstowe in a long time—perhaps ever.
The not-quite-a-crowd parted for Birdoswyn and me to pass.
He paused as we started walking along the path out of town and cast a glance backward, and I prayed he wasn’t going to insist I fetch a carriage after all.
But when I followed his gaze, I found the villagers were all smiling and waving him farewell.
He waved back one last time, then fell into step beside me and we began the long walk back to Everend Market.
We’d been walking for less than an hour when I became aware that Birdoswyn was struggling to keep up. He was doing his best to hide it, but his rucksack was bouncing against his back, the leather straps creaking with every step, and when I glanced back he was a good ten feet behind me.
“Alright?” I asked him.
He wiped his sweaty brow with his sleeve. “Yes.” A valiant lie. “Will we be walking much longer before we take some rest?”
I looked back down the road we’d come. Long grass waved in the breeze between the old wheel ruts left by carts. Trees dipped their leafy branches toward the ground. “I think if we went back to the last bend, we’d still be able to see Hillstowe.”
Birdoswyn blinked at me. “Oh, I see. You’re saying that we still have some way to go before we can stop, is that right?”
“If you’d like to get to Everend Market before midsummer, then yes.” Midsummer next year at the pace we were making. “Your rucksack looks very heavy.”
“It’s fine.”
“And you’d be cooler if you tied your hair back.”
His jaw dropped. “I am a genteel elf. My hair might be plain brown, but I do not wear it tied back like a common laborer! I am a Cranhawc-Hazelthorn, and the Fyreham Lathian!”
“I remember,” I told him with a sigh and closed the distance between us. I could see the straps of his rucksack digging into his shoulders. “What in the goddess’s name have you packed in there?”
His fingers tightened on the straps. “Just necessities.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Show me.”
Wrinkling his nose, he eased the straps off his shoulders. His rucksack hit the ground with a heavy thump. He crouched down in front of it and unfastened the flap. When he opened it, I caught a glimpse of colorful fabric. “It’s my good clothes.”
“And what’s under your good clothes?” I asked, folding my arms across my chest.
Birdoswyn’s face grew pinker as he lifted a stack of clothes out of his rucksack to reveal a book.
And then he lifted the book out to reveal another book.
And another. And another. By the time I could see the bottom of his pack, six very large and obviously heavy books rested on the ground.
Birdoswyn looked up at me with wide, pleading eyes, as though he was afraid I was going to tell him to leave his books in the middle of the road.
I stared down at him and really wished I’d asked to check his rucksack before we’d left.
As I watched him, a sparrow fluttered down from a nearby tree to inspect Birdoswyn’s belongings.
His face lit up with a smile, and he held his hand out to the sparrow.
It hopped fearlessly into his palm. Its brown feathers were the same shade as his hair, the ends of which currently brushed the ground as he crouched.
“Pack it back up,” I said, and Birdoswyn reluctantly farewelled the little sparrow. When he was done, he rose to his feet again and reached for his pack. “No. I’ll carry it. You can take mine.”
My pack, with one change of clothes and a couple of bags of nuts, dried peas, and cheese for the journey, was a lot lighter than his.
“Thank you, Elowin!” he exclaimed, his eyes bright and his smile even brighter. “I know they’re only books, but they are my favorites!”
I gave him my rucksack and hefted his onto my back. I’d be feeling the strain in my shoulders by tonight, I was sure. “It’s alright, Sparrow.”
His eyes widened. “Sparrow?”
“Your real name’s a mouthful,” I told him.
“It was my great-great-great-grandfather’s name,” he said, his nose wrinkling. “He was the one who earned the lathian.”
“Well, it’s still a mouthful. And Sparrow suits you. Your hair’s the same color.”
His smile seemed hesitant, and a tiny divot appeared at the top of his nose as his brows tugged together. “Brown?”
“Brown,” I agreed. “Like a sparrow. Is it alright to call you that? I won’t, if you don’t like it.”
He thought for a moment. “No, it’s alright. I am quite fond of sparrows, even though they’re very common.”
“Me too,” I said, and he looked faintly surprised as though it was a strange admission to make. “Now come on, there’s a farm a few miles ahead that sells cider and cottage pie. We’ll stop there for lunch.”
Sparrow gave me another smile and fell into step beside me.
After eating lunch at the same farm I’d breakfasted at, we set off down the road again. Sparrow’s rucksack was fuller than before since he was now carrying a bottle of cider and two cold pork pies for when we got hungry again before dinner. It was still a lighter load than mine.
“What books am I breaking my back for?” I asked as we crested a gentle hill, following the wheel ruts dug there by generations of carts. “Your earth magic volumes?”
“Oh,” Sparrow said, flushing. “No, it’s books on birds, mostly. I like to watch birds and to learn about them. Which could be a kind of earth magic, I suppose, since earth magic is so closely aligned with the natural world, except I’m afraid I have no affinity for birds. I just like them.”
“No magical affinity, maybe, but that sparrow hopped right into your palm earlier.”
Sparrow’s flush deepened. “Well, you said we weren’t far from Hillstowe. Perhaps it was one I used to feed on my windowsill, and it recognized me.”
I hummed my agreement, and we walked a little while longer.
The day was warm but the breeze was cool, and our journey was a pleasant one.
Still, I’d be glad when we were at Everend Market and my duty was done.
I was supposed to be enjoying all the sights of the market, though my interest was in the stalls, not the Marketplace Pavillion where marriage matches were made.
I’d been itching to see the mechanical wares of the Gearwick traders for months now, not wasting my time on a trip to Hillstowe and back. However cute Sparrow was.
Evidently, I wasn’t the only one thinking of our journey.
“Do you suppose we’ll meet any bandits on the way to Everend Market?” Sparrow asked me worriedly.
“You’re more likely to be accosted by butterflies than bandits around here,” I told him. “So, no, I don’t think there’s any danger of bandits at all.”
Sparrow nodded. “And if there was, at least I have a royal guard beside me! I don’t think I’d be much use in a fight.”
A royal guard? I was so taken aback at his assumption that I didn’t correct him. Just laughed in surprise and said, “You might do better than you think.”
“Well, I hope not,” he said. “I wouldn’t want to be in the circumstances where I had to find out, I mean. Oh, look! A robin!”
He darted off to the side of the road to inspect the red-breasted bird, and I wondered exactly what, and who, he and his parents had been expecting to turn up to collect him.
A carriage, obviously, and a royal guard.
The Fyreham Lathian, on Prince Aldian’s end, was a polite invitation to Everend Market, the sort of social invitation you made to an acquaintance out of an abundance of good manners rather than any actual want.
But it seemed as though the Cranhawcs of Hillstowe had been expecting something much grander. An entire parade, probably.
But it was hard to think of Sparrow as someone that entitled and greedy when I saw him smiling as the robin hopped along the branch toward him.
I watched him for a moment longer, then said, “Come on, we’ve got a ways to go before we can stop.”
I set off down the road, and Sparrow hurried to catch up with me.