Chapter 5
SPARROW
As the shadows lengthened and dusk grew, there was no farmhouse or tavern in sight, and I felt guilty for having got caught in a bush and delaying us for several hours.
I was worried that we might have to sleep by the side of the road like Elowin had said—and yes, while it was good enough for the birds, I had never done it before, and I wasn’t at all certain I would cope as well as a bird—but then we caught sight of something up ahead.
It appeared to be a campsite made up of two carts, two horses, a canvas canopy with bright pennants streaming from the top, and six or seven elves in colorful clothing arguing good-naturedly around a fire about the best way to cook the fish they’d caught.
“Oh, well, these elves look like they know what they’re about!” someone yelled cheerfully, pointing at Elowin and me as we approached, and the rest of them turned to look. “Do you know how to cook fish, friends?”
“I’ve cooked a fish or two before,” Elowin said, and his answer was met with cheers.
We were greeted with cheerful salutations as we approached, and I stepped closer to Elowin, suddenly thinking about bandits again. I was also conscious that my hair was tied back, and while it was practical, it wasn’t proper.
And then Elowin held his hand out, and his knuckles brushed the backs of mine, and I realized it didn’t matter if these elves knew I was a genteel elf with a noble name. I turned my hand and laced my fingers with Elowin’s, and he smiled at me as we drew closer to the elves around the fire.
“Are you joining us?” one of the elves asked.
“If you don’t mind,” Elowin said.
“You’re welcome,” the elf said. “We have plenty of fish to share.”
He had dark skin and the most astonishing hair.
It was thick, like ropes, and he wore it coiled on top of his head, with the pointy ends sticking out of the coils like the leaves of a succulent that was reaching for sunlight.
He also had earrings in both his ears, and not small, delicate jewels.
Instead, he wore thick metal studs and clasps all the way from his lobes up to the pointed tips of his ears.
He even had a metal stud through one of his nostrils!
“Then we’d love to join you,” Elowin said, releasing my hand so he could take off his pack. “I’m Elowin, and this is Sparrow.”
“Silrisar,” said the elf with the astonishing hair, and he proceeded to introduce the rest of the group.
I forgot their names the moment he said them, fascinated by the way I could hear his earrings clinking and rattling as he nodded around the group.
I wondered if it sounded like a cacophony to him, or a song.
The elves made space for us around their fire.
“Are you heading to the market?” a woman asked, sitting beside me when Elowin and Silrisar went to inspect the fish and presumably decide how best to cook them.
“Yes,” I said. “Are you?”
“We go every year,” she said.
“Every year?” I blinked at her. “Have you not found a marriage match yet? You’re very pretty.”
She laughed as though I’d said something funny, and the bangles around her wrist rattled as she patted my knee.
“How sweet!” Her dark eyes danced. “There is a lot more to the market than marriage. Alariel wants to buy some new goats, Silrisar needs new components for a water wheel, and I’m after some more of the enchanted salve I bought last year which was both soothing and warming.
And those are only the items we know we need.
There are always hundreds more to discover, things we don’t know we need yet.
A few years ago I bought a charm that ensures our cows will always give only the best milk, and it still works as well as it did the day I got it. ”
That sounded very useful indeed. I wondered if anyone at the market sold charms that made sure your chickens always laid.
Perhaps I could buy one for Ismeray. Or perhaps there was even something for sale that would make life easier for my parents.
A cheese-making charm? My mother hated to make cheese, which regrettably showed in the final product.
And my father often complained that his eyes grew tired after reading.
Perhaps I could buy him some spectacles.
I brightened at the idea of giving them gifts, then remembered that I would have to send them home to Hillstowe instead of watching them unwrap them in person.
Still, they could write to me and let me know they liked them. It wasn’t quite the same, though.
I watched as Elowin and Silrisar took the now-cleaned fish and laid them in a large pan on the fire.
One of the other elves produced a stack of wooden cups, and someone else brought out a large flagon of cider, and very soon we all sat around the fire talking and laughing as we waited for our dinner.
The stream that ran alongside the campsite burbled and splashed in the background.
Elowin sat next to me, our shoulders brushing together, as the dusk darkened into night and the firelight shone on the handsome planes of his face.
The fish was good, and the cider was very strong.
I only drank one cup, mindful of how unwell I’d felt this morning.
It seemed very unfair that something that tasted so nice could be so cruel afterward.
Warmth filled me as I sat beside Elowin, sipping my cider carefully as the conversation went on around me, and I wasn’t entirely sure it was caused by the alcohol.
Silrisar and the other elves had been traveling for four days already, and they came from a town northeast of The Glaes. They spoke of it happily, telling us stories of their friends and neighbors that made us laugh.
“And where are you from?” one of them—I think it was Alariel—asked me.
“I’m from Hillstowe,” I said, and they looked at me blankly. “It is east of here.”
“It’s a small place,” Elowin said. “Populated mostly by chickens and goats.”
It was the sort of thing that I might have taken as an insult, except he said it with a smile. Besides, I liked the chickens and goats.
“And Sparrows,” Silrisar said with a wink that made me flush for some unaccountable reason.
“And you, Elowin?” Alariel asked.
“Emberleigh,” Elowin said.
“Hillstowe,” one of the other elves mused. “Hillstowe… I have heard of it, I think. To the north of the Quicksilver Mountains?”
I nodded.
“Yes,” the elf said, sounding pleased to have placed it.
“You remember when I was in Gearwick with Rhalyf?” The other elves nodded and hummed.
“I asked if there was a road through the mountains, thinking it would cut a few days off my journey home, and they said, ‘Oh, can you imagine? You’d only find yourself smack bang in the middle of Hillstowe, and five hundred years in the past!’”
“Oh,” I said, blinking as the others laughed.
The elf offered an apologetic smile. “I’m sure it was an exaggeration. The elves of Gearwick are all techheads who think that if you’ve never seen an astronomical clock, you’re hopelessly uncivilized.”
“I’ve never seen an astronomical clock,” I said in a very small voice.
“Lots of people haven’t,” Elowin said, putting an arm around my shoulders. “Hillstowe is somewhat traditional, but it’s very nice.”
I sat up a little straighter and smiled at him.
“So you’ve decided it’s time to find a match?” Silrisar asked me.
I nodded, grateful for the change of subject. “I’m going to meet Prince Aldian as the Fyreham Lathian, and when he sees I’m a suitable partner, he’ll marry me,” I said. “And then my parents will receive the royal dowry, and my mother won’t have to make her own cheese, and everyone will be happy.”
Silrisar blinked. “Oh. And you’ll be happy with that arrangement, will you?”
“Why wouldn’t I be? I’m marrying the prince. It’s a great honor!”
Silrisar tugged on one of his many earrings. “Well, as long as you like him, I suppose.”
“I haven’t met him yet,” I said, “but I’m sure he’s very nice.”
“Oh,” said Silrisar. “I thought you must have… at some point…” He cleared his throat. “Well, then. That’s very interesting. Good luck to you, Sparrow.”
“Traditional,” Elowin said again, exchanging a glance with Silrisar. “Another cider, Sparrow?”
“Yes, please.”
And after that, Silrisar changed the subject, and nobody talked about Hillstowe, or me, again.
Idid not like peeing in the woods. I liked taverns that had chamber pots. The woods were very, very dark, and what if I peed on a sleeping rabbit? I’d never forgive myself. The rabbit would probably have opinions as well.
“Hurry up, Sparrow,” Elowin said.
“I’m looking for the right tree.”
“There was nothing wrong with the last five!”
“I think they can still see us from the camp.” I let out a little screech as Elowin loomed out of the darkness right in front of me. “Oh! You scared me!”
I couldn’t see his expression, but I heard his sigh. “Hurry up, Sparrow. I would rather go to sleep than spend half the night traipsing around in the woods waiting for you to take a piss.”
My face heated up at his language. “Well, maybe this tree will work.”
“Maybe it will,” he agreed in a tone of voice that suggested it had better.
After checking for rabbits and other small animals, I turned my back toward him, lowered my leggings, and started to pee. The sound of the stream hitting the undergrowth was loud in my ears, and I jolted when moments later it was joined by the sound of someone else peeing.
I looked up, shocked, to find Elowin standing right next to me with his own leggings halfway down his thighs. It was too dark to see anything—not that I looked! Well, accidentally perhaps—but still. Peeing was private, especially for a genteel elf.
It seemed to take forever, but eventually we finished up and silently started the walk back.
It was a lot farther to the campsite than I’d realized, so perhaps my concerns that someone would see us had been unfounded after all.
As we walked, Elowin said, “If it makes you feel any better, Prince Aldian often pees in the woods.”
“Really?” I stopped walking and stared at him, open-mouthed.
“Really,” he said, the flash of his smile cutting through the darkness. “Aldian likes the outdoors, and more than once he’s ducked behind the nearest tree.”
Something about the way he said it caught my attention. “So do you know him quite well, then?” It occurred to me that maybe I’d underestimated Elowin and he wasn’t just any guard. Perhaps he was the prince’s personal guard.
“Well enough,” he said, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. “Come on, let’s get back to camp.” He set a brisk pace, and before long the campsite came into view.
When we arrived back, Silrisar nodded in the direction of an empty bedroll under the canopy. “I hope you don’t mind sharing.”
“We’re not taking someone’s bed, are we?” I asked doubtfully. “That seems rude.”
He shot me a wicked grin. “Trust me, it’s fine. Alariel’s more than happy to share my bedroll.”
Oh. I hoped my blush wasn’t too obvious in the firelight.
Elowin had already pulled off his boots and turned down the bedroll, and I hurried to take my boots off too.
I glanced around to see what the etiquette was—nightshirts or no?
—and discovered that most of the elves were peeling off all their layers down to their thin braies.
I was breathlessly pleased that Elowin did not.
He kept on his leggings and shirt as he made space for me on the bedroll.
Which was good, because I wasn’t sure I would be able to sleep with that much gorgeous skin on display.
With that much impropriety on display, I meant.
Because it turned out falling asleep was difficult enough with Elowin’s body pressed warmly against mine, his breath brushing my ear, and his scent as distracting as any fine perfume.