Chapter 50 Stasya
They were in an open, grassy space shaped like a shallow bowl.
It seemed the entire community of Forest Folk had gathered to meet the travellers, to greet them with some formality, and to share a meal afterwards.
A crowd.
She’d never been comfortable in crowds, though this, at least, was a quiet, orderly one, and those who were setting out food and drink, or greeting friends, or helping others find a spot to sit, were doing so without any fuss.
Flip had taken bird form and was up in the trees somewhere.
Right now, Stasya would have liked the little dog by her side to remind her that she could be strong even with so many folk around.
Failing that, she would use her breathing and the reassuring presence of Mother Rowan to keep her calm.
That awkward conversation with Aleks had hardly helped.
Just as well she’d spoken to Matiss and Karolis afterwards, while Aleks conferred with Markus in private.
That had helped her make sense of things.
I, too, will hold the light, she told herself.
I, too, will be strong.
Nobody was leaving right now, or even soon.
There was time for thinking, for planning. There was time for all of them to make up their minds. Or to change their minds.
She was seated beside Mother Rowan.
That placed her more prominently than she really liked, since the wise woman’s age meant she was provided with a low bench and she’d invited Stasya to share it.
Everyone else sat on the grass or perched on the mossy stones that dotted the clearing.
Lukas was there with Shadow by his side.
He looked as if he was trying to be invisible, not easy for a man of his height, especially one with such a head of curls.
Dear Lukas.
She’d hurt him badly.
But once he’d really thought about it, surely he’d realise she couldn’t go back.
The settlement had been home for a long while, but it would never be again.
A few latecomers settled into the crowd, and suddenly the place was full of anticipation.
Not a hush, exactly, for it was always quiet here.
Kadri stepped forward, a fresh circlet of flowers on her head, and addressed the assembled folk.
‘Greetings, all, and welcome,’ Kadri said. ‘In particular, we welcome our visitors from the world beyond our border and congratulate them on a gruelling quest bravely achieved. We greet them with both joy and sorrow, since their coming means we will be bidding farewell to a beloved member of our own community.’ She inclined her head, smiling, toward Markus. ‘Our son. Our boy, now become a man, and with a destiny before him. Markus, will you speak to our people?’
He rose to his feet and moved forward. A fine-looking man, a strong man, a man whom others would follow. In an old tale he would be the handsome prince, the leader of men, the hero who saved the day. But he had his own story, and that was of a lost boy found, and found again.
‘My people,’ Markus said.
‘My family.
I owe you my life, my sanity, my health.
You will always be dear to my heart.
I could go on all day, but I’ll spare you that, friends.’ He gave a rueful smile; a soft ripple of laughter passed through his audience.
‘In time I will be leaving you; I need not explain why, for by now everyone must know.
Whatever comes of my journey back to the place of my birth, I make you a solemn promise.
Whether or not I am elevated to leadership of the Northlands, I swear to live by the values you taught me as I grew up, as well as those I learned early from my father.
I will do everything in my power to protect this realm as well as the human lands I may be entrusted to rule.
I will honour the forest and all it holds; I will never allow it to be exploited for gain.’ Murmurs of approval from the crowd.
The whisper of the trees, the songs of the birds, the movements of creatures large and small came to Stasya as an echo of that feeling.
All were content; this was a true son of both realms, a treasure indeed.
‘Although I will be leaving you for now, I will not leave you forever.
I pledge that as Ruler of the Northlands, once a year I will come back to visit you.
You know well the ways that can be done without attracting undue attention.
And Master Aleksis and his comrades are expert at handling such matters in their own world.’ His gaze moved to the three men sitting at the front of the crowd.
He glanced across at Stasya, giving a little nod.
‘They faced challenges on their way here; they endured loss, sorrow, hurt.
It is never easy for outsiders to make their way to the Hermit.
Some obstacles, I know, exist for precisely that purpose: to keep human folk out.
Some owe their presence to darker elements of this realm.
Some, this time, came from those who followed Master Aleksis’s team with ill intent.’ Markus looked direct at Mother Rowan.
‘And some were designed as tests, to determine the courage, the fortitude, the worthiness of the man who never gave up his dream of finding me.
Tests, also, to prove the qualities of his chosen companions.
It was known they were coming; it was known what they sought.
I am sorry for the ill you suffered on this journey, my friends.’ His voice was suddenly uneven, as if tears were close.
‘A brave leader; a stalwart team.
Our deep thanks to you.’ He cleared his throat.
‘And now, I think, it is time for a story.
After that, we will eat and drink.
We will sing and dance. We will celebrate what has been achieved and what is to come. Mother Rowan, will you tell a tale?’
The wise woman did not get up, though her smile as she looked at Markus was that of a proud parent who sees in her child all that she has hoped he might one day be. ‘Stasya, perhaps you should tell a story,’ she said, putting a gentle hand on Stasya’s shoulder. ‘Will you do that for us?’
For just a moment, the old fears came back. Who did she think she was, standing up to speak in front of such a crowd? Had she forgotten how much she hated to have everyone’s eyes on her, expectant? But she had to do it. What Karolis and Matiss had told her had changed everything.
She rose to her feet. Lukas was watching her from a distance; he gave her a smile that said, You can do it . Aleks was watching her. He acknowledged her with a grave nod. Time to step forward. I can be brave. I am the Storyteller. This was a kind of test. Whatever she decided to do in the future, she would keep on telling tales. That was part of her very existence.
She stood before her audience, taking time to breathe. Flip flew down, alighting on her shoulder to appreciative murmuring from the crowd. A dove, messenger of peace.
The words came. ‘On the way here, around one campfire or another, we told a lot of stories. Old ones, new ones, funny ones, sad ones. Now and then I told the tale of our own journey in one form or another. Perhaps, now, my companions of that journey might help me with the telling.’
She told the beginning, but gave the odd group of travellers new names: the Leader, the Protector, the Acrobat and, for poor Pavel, the Quiet One.
She was the Storyteller, Lukas the Farmer.
Flip, she called the Small Companion.
The Leader was seeking a lost friend; the others were his comrades.
The story flowed well, and there was no need to ask for help until the characters had reached their destination after a gruelling journey during which they lost the Quiet One, whom they would always remember, and came close to losing more.
She told how his steadiness and care for others made the Protector beloved of all; she told how the Acrobat was strong in both body and spirit, generous with his knowledge and as apt with healing as he was with wielding a weapon.
The Quiet One’s story was sad; in time, his friends would make sure his family learned how he had stood up for the good cause in the end.
He would never be forgotten.
The Farmer was a brave man who’d been drawn into the adventure despite himself; along the way, all had come to admire his strength and courage.
‘At last, they had reached their destination, and there was the lost boy, now a fine man well equipped to take his true place as Ruler of the realm. With only a few words, the Heir made it plain he would rule with justice and forbearance. He would guard the forest and its creatures as carefully as he would the human folk of his territory. He knew and understood the uncanny folk whose secret realm bordered his own, for it was they who had raised him in tolerance and understanding of all things. He would be a Ruler for the powerful and the wealthy, for there was no escaping that, but he would also be a Ruler for the folk who farmed the land and the folk who baked the bread.’ An image of Irina flashed through her mind, bringing sudden tears to her eyes. She blinked them back. ‘But how could the Leader and his companions get the Heir safely to the court? How could they ensure he was treated with justice and fairness when he declared himself? Some would resent this claim and try to prove it wrong. They might seek to do the Heir or his followers harm. The Leader pondered this; it kept him awake at night. His mind was burdened with dark possibilities, despite the careful work his team had done in advance to smooth the way. He wondered how they could get the word out to the people without putting the Heir at risk.’ She glanced over at Karolis with a smile.
‘The Acrobat came up with a daring plan,’ Karolis said, rising to his feet. His stance suggested he was preparing to fight, or perhaps to dance: perfectly poised, with the light touching his auburn hair to flame. ‘He and the Storyteller would join up with a team of travelling entertainers – musicians, dancers, folk of many talents – as they moved around the Northlands from settlement to settlement. They would not tell the Heir’s story openly; that was far too risky. But they would tell tales of a peaceful realm where all folk were treated justly, and the natural world was honoured, and disputes were settled not by blood and violence, but by discussion, negotiation, regular meetings from the smallest village to the largest township. A place where leaders were not distant, but present to hear the voices of their people with respect and to take action when it was needed. Those tales would not be dreary pronouncements of how things should be. They would be full of delight and fun!’ A gasp from the crowd as Karolis performed a backflip, landing on his feet with a grin on his face. ‘Fortunately, there were two among the Leader’s small group of comrades who were perfect for this job.’ Karolis nodded to Matiss, and the two changed places. Aleks was speaking to someone sitting behind him; she wished she could see his expression. He knew about this general idea. Karolis had put it to him some while back, but likely not in such terms.
‘Now you might think,’ Matiss said, his voice deep and soft, ‘that with so few in the Leader’s team, this might be a risky choice. The Farmer would be going home; this was not his quest, and he had pressing matters to attend to. That left the Leader with three companions. If two joined the travelling players, he would be left with only one. Just as well that one was the Protector.’ He looked at Stasya, smiling. ‘I like that name well,’ he said. ‘But, of course, those who came on the journey were not the Leader’s only supporters. They were scattered across the Northlands, from within the Ruler’s court itself to the far borders, from isolated farms to fishing villages to every corner of the land. Men and women who, as well as their ordinary lives, handled the secret business of preparation for the Heir’s arrival. Yes, even though the Leader and his companions had journeyed without knowing if the man they sought was alive or dead, the support for their cause was gradually growing. Through the travelling players, more folk would be awakened to the possibility of change. They would learn that the realm could be a better place.’ Matiss paused, taking time to look around his audience. His expression, now, was utterly serious. ‘It was fortunate indeed, then, that within his team the Leader happened to have, not only an Acrobat who could sing, dance and play tricks, but also a skilled Storyteller.’
Time for Stasya to speak again and bring this to a conclusion. ‘While those two were out working their magic among the ordinary people, the Heir would live in a safe place, well guarded, and study those things he would need to know to take up his new role. The Leader and his Protector would move with subtlety and caution among the powerful, the wealthy, the folk with influence. The folk who might be valuable allies or dangerous enemies. They would journey beyond the borders of the Northlands and talk to people in the neighbouring lands. Only when all was prepared would the team gather once more and bring the Heir home.’ She looked out at the assembled Forest Folk, all of whom were silent, their full attention on her. Mother Rowan’s expression spoke for her. Well done, my dear. ‘The Heir would always have two homes: the one where he was born and lived as a child and where his destiny lay, and this one among the Forest Folk, the home where he was raised to be a fine man, fit to lead with justice and compassion.’ Stasya looked directly at Markus. ‘I know he will honour both in his future life.’ Gods, she was actually finished. She’d got through it. ‘And that’s all from me,’ she said, as Flip arose from her shoulder and flew in a circle over the crowd as if in recognition of a deed well done.
Folk rose then and moved about, while some began to set out food and drink. There was a low buzz of conversation. For a little, Stasya lost sight of the others. Suddenly she did not want to be here, with so many people milling about. She made her way through the crowd until she found a spot under a tree whose name she did not know, something small and compact with a friendly look to it. She sat down with her arms around her knees and bowed her head. For a moment, just a moment, she longed for her little house on the edge of the forest, and the old days with Flip and Lukas. Things had been so much simpler then. But … she’d never have met Aleks or Matiss or Karolis. She’d never have come to the Hermit and met the Forest Folk. She’d never have encountered Mother Rowan, who had opened a magical door on the future. How could she even think of wishing that away? It was her life now, and although it was often confusing and sometimes terrifying, she wanted it with her whole heart.
‘Stasya?’
There he was, looking down at her. His sharp features were softened by a smile such as she had never seen on his face before.
‘Thank you,’ he said.
Stasya patted the ground beside her in invitation, and Aleks lowered himself to sit.
‘You really want to come with us,’ he said. ‘After being offered an opportunity to stay here.’
‘When our work is done, when Markus is established as Ruler, I’ll come back here. The Forest Folk will make sure I reach the Hermit safely.’
‘You set that up, the three of you. When?’
‘Not long ago, while you were talking to Markus. The others had a few honest words with me. They may have explained a little about why you seemed so reluctant for me to stay with you.’
‘I was wrong, and I’m sorry.’ He took her hand in his. ‘It troubles me to see you hurt. I will worry about you every moment you’re gone with these travelling players, even though you’ll be with Karolis, and if anyone can protect you, he can. You are one of us, Stasya, an essential member of the team. I insulted you by treating you as anything less.’
Finding the right words was easy now. ‘And I’m sorry. For using your story that way when it’s so personal. But it was the only way to make you understand.’
‘A striking demonstration of your storytelling skills.’ His smile was crooked now. He lifted her hand to his lips, just for an instant, and Stasya felt the touch right through her body. Then he released his hold with a sigh. ‘A long road ahead,’ he said. ‘With its own kind of trouble. Sometimes I think it’s better for folk who take on such tasks to be quite alone. Sufficient unto themselves. I’ve always wondered how Matiss and his wife do it, both of them working for our cause, hardly ever seeing each other.’
‘There’s a bond, I suppose. Strong enough to survive even a long parting. And perhaps the end of this trouble is in sight. You found the lost boy. You rekindled hope, Aleks.’
In the silence that followed, what lay unspoken between them seemed vast and terrifying and wonderful all at the same time. One day, Stasya thought. One day maybe I’ll tell him what I feel. Maybe one day I’ll understand it. Maybe I’ll tell him straight out, not in a story. If I’m brave enough. ‘We should go back,’ she said, looking over to the clearing where folk were eating and drinking, and there was music: a harp, a whistle, a little drum. Was that Karolis dancing with a woman of the Forest Folk?
‘I suppose we should.’ Aleks got to his feet, reached out a hand to help her up. Quickly, before she could change her mind, Stasya touched her lips to his cheek and made him smile again. One day , she thought, we too will dance.
The End