Page 7 of The Amber Owl (Heartwood #1)

7

Stasya

The big man stood beside her, a solid presence, not touching. She wanted to run, to dash for home. But that would spell disaster. So, she waited, her belly churning. The Commander was angry. Maybe it was because that other man, the one with a dragon on his tunic, seemed to have taken control. There was a look about that man’s sharp features, an intensity in his gaze, that made Stasya think of a hawk, winging after its prey with deadly purpose. That look said he would let nothing and no-one get in his way.

‘Get that cart off the road!’ the Commander snarled at his men. ‘Leonas, Erik, establish some order here. Clear the area of idle onlookers. Find quarters for the new men and get the other carts unloaded. Quick as you can; there’s been enough time wasted already.’ He motioned to Hawk Man, pointing toward a makeshift encampment that had been built next to Vidas’s old barn. ‘This way.’ And to the big man, ‘Bring her.’

It was hard to stand straight. Even harder to put one foot in front of the other. They guided her into the shadowy interior of the barn, which was now, she dimly realised, living quarters for the Commander’s men. Although the place was almost empty, she felt trapped, like a bird in a too-small cage.

One of the guards stayed by the barn doors. The other one, the big man, ushered her into a walled-off area at the far end. A small table; three stools. A shelf, and on it a jug and cups. A pallet with a neatly folded blanket. Her head was spinning and her chest hurt. The horse’s distress had sent her heart into a wild gallop. Calming the animal had drained away her strength. But far harder had been reaching for the tiny mind of the wasp. Nothing there but a wild struggle to escape and the desperate need to keep on stabbing and piercing until the terror was gone. Somehow, she had managed to reach it, to convey, You can move. Turn with care; slowly, slowly. Good. See, light! Air! Creep along to the light. Go free! All the while keeping her gaze on the horse, gentling it as well as she could, splitting her thoughts to help them both at once. Now here she was, and the pain was slowly ebbing, but if they did not let her sit down soon she might collapse on the floor. What did they want? Why was she in here? No, she would not think of fleeing up to the forest edge, of holding Flip close, of letting her tears flow in the safety of her own place. She would not risk Flip. The little dog could become a bird, a butterfly, a beetle, and make her way out of the cottage whenever she chose. A locked door would not keep her in. And if she knew Stasya was in danger, she would come.

‘Sit here.’ Hawk Man was motioning to a stool. ‘Matiss, wait just outside this door, will you? Don’t let anyone in.’

Stasya collapsed onto the stool. The big fellow went back out. Now it was only her, the Commander, and this other man who’d been giving orders not long ago, as if he was senior to the Commander. He didn’t seem old enough for that. What was he, a scholar? A priest?

‘Account for yourself, girl!’ The Commander did not sit down, but stood with hands on hips, glaring down at her.

Stasya stared back at him. Account for what? What was she supposed to say? Words came into her mind and as quickly departed. She said nothing.

‘Speak up! What were you doing out there?’

Stasya heard something, not far off; was that a man groaning in pain? Other men were jeering and laughing, as if enjoying good entertainment. Was that …? She found words. ‘What have you done with Lukas? Where is he?’ Her voice came out weak and wobbly.

‘I’m asking the questions! Account for yourself!’ The Commander thumped a fist on the table, making it rock.

Stasya wrapped her arms around herself. Out there, the groans continued. And the thud of blows landing. Blows hard enough to be heard even in here. That must be the place she’d heard about, where people who argued or wouldn’t work or otherwise annoyed the Commander were locked up and punished. The place that sent them back out – those who managed to get out – as mere shadows of themselves. Why would she answer questions, even if she understood them? Why would she do anything for this vile person? She bowed her head and tried to put both Flip and Lukas out of her mind.

‘Some water.’ Hawk Man filled a cup and set it before her. ‘You’ll be somewhat shaken by your experience, I’m sure. What is your name?’

A sound from the Commander, as if he wanted to interrupt. A sound quickly cut off. Stasya lifted her head, took the cup, drank thirstily. Looked at Hawk Man. ‘What is yours?’

‘You can’t—’ the Commander began.

‘I am Aleksis, son of Feliks. I am senior adviser to the Ruler, Lady Elisabeta. My convoy has brought reinforcements and supplies as requested. I’m also charged with reporting back to the Ruler. And you are …?’

‘Stasya.’ She counted her breaths, in, out, in, out.

For a long while, he simply looked at her, features impassive. He could have been thinking anything at all. ‘I gather you were called in because you have a particular skill with troublesome animals. Useful in a community such as this, I imagine. Unusual situation just now. Explain to us how you calmed the horse. How did you know what the problem was?’

She did not answer.

‘Sorcery. Witchcraft.’ The Commander’s tone was flat. ‘She won’t talk because she knows what the truth will mean for her. Am I right? Am I right, girl?’

Too loud. Too close. Too angry. Like the wasp, this man was buzzing, he was stinging with his words, all the time fighting, as if … as if he felt scared? Trapped? How could that be, when he wielded such power? She shook her head, not looking at him.

‘Commander.’ Hawk Man – Aleksis – again, holding his voice quiet. Not that she was fooled by that. The two of them wanted something from her, and she didn’t trust either of them. Hadn’t this man said he was the Ruler’s senior adviser? ‘This needs more time,’ he said now. ‘If I may—’

‘There is no time!’ For a heavily built man, the Commander moved quickly. Before Stasya could react, he was behind her, dragging off her hat, lifting up her hair, seizing the cord around her neck and bodily ripping the amber owl away. She cried out in pain. Aleksis was on his feet. The Commander was already back on his side of the table, holding the talisman up to catch the light, with a look on his face like that of a cat with a fat mouse ready for the eating. ‘Now tell me you don’t use witchcraft,’ he said. ‘Explain this!’ And to Aleksis, ‘Small, but a very pure specimen. Indeed, finer than any I have seen before, even in the halls of highborn folk.’

‘Show me.’ Aleksis took the owl between thumb and forefinger; moved closer to the lamp to examine it. ‘Mmm,’ he said after a while. Which might have meant anything.

Stasya wanted to leap up, to deliver a few blows of her own, to seize back her treasure and bolt into the depths of the forest, where nobody could find her. She should have taken Lukas’s advice and left while she could. Now she was weak. Weaker without her talisman. Weaker because her dear friend was a prisoner and they were hurting him. Weaker because she did not know how to tell the lies that might get her released.

‘Would you be more ready to answer questions if there were another woman here?’

She stared at Aleksis. The answer was yes, of course, depending on the woman. Irina, yes. Agnese, yes. Marina, possibly. But she shook her head no. To bring any of the village women into this was to put them in danger. The Commander was like dry kindling, all too ready to burst into flaming anger. And Hawk Man was a person of authority, close to the Ruler herself. He was just as responsible for all this as if he’d done it with his own hands. He might have better manners, but he was cut from the same cloth as the Commander.

Aleksis was studying her as if she were some sort of strange creature or plant he’d discovered and found puzzling. She met his gaze with one of her own. She wasn’t feeling brave, but she could pretend. She could be a person in a story, on a quest, the sort who could stand up in the face of danger and know all the right things to say and do.

‘This is a pleasing trinket,’ Aleksis said. ‘The Commander is right, the amber is exceptionally pure. Without flaw. Did you carve this yourself?’

‘A friend made it.’

‘Ah. I think I can guess who that friend might be.’ The Commander’s tone was hideous, full of suggestion. It made her skin crawl. ‘The lad you asked about, Lukas, was it? A very special friend, mm-hm?’

‘Your men hit him and dragged him away. That was his reward for helping rescue your horse. I know they’re hurting him in there.’ Stasya got to her feet, pointed in the direction of the vile sounds. ‘He’s done nothing wrong. Nothing!’ Oh, gods, she didn’t have the strength to stand; her knees gave way, and she sank back to the stool. Pretending to be brave was all very well, but how was she going to get home if she couldn’t walk?

The Commander opened his mouth to say something, but Aleksis got in first. ‘Just one more question, Stasya. Where did your friend Lukas obtain the amber to make this?’

She shrank from answering. This was deeply private. It was between her and Lukas. Nobody else was part of this story, except Flip, of course. But … if she refused to answer, they would try to get the truth from Lukas, and they would not offer him a cup of water and someone to keep him company. She’d have to tell. She had no idea what words they wanted, what a court adviser would expect from her. But one thing she did know: how to tell a story.

‘Once upon a time,’ she began, and the Commander scowled, on the verge of shouting again. Stasya straightened her back and lifted her chin. ‘Once upon a time, two friends were walking in the great forest. Where were they going? Nowhere in particular. They loved to walk and climb and sit a while, listening to the sounds around them: the chirping of birds, the sighing of wind in the pines, the splash of a waterfall. It was a fine day, and they went further than they’d ever gone before, on pathways both crooked and straight, both steep and gentle, finding new wonders at every turn. Above the canopy, the sun moved across the sky, until it was nearly time to turn for home or they would not be back by nightfall.’ She stopped for a mouthful of water.

‘What nonsense is this?’ muttered the Commander. ‘We have no time for this!’

At least he wasn’t shouting. And Aleksis had gone very still, his gaze intent on Stasya. He, at least, knew how to listen.

‘Just a bit further, said the girl. I want to see what’s up there, where the sun strikes down between the trees.

‘They went up, and there they found a lake. The beauty of it took their breath away, for the water was clear and pure, and here the pines stood back, making way for softer trees. The lake seemed to hold a gleaming light, and by its edge was a flat strand. Here the two friends took off their boots and cooled their weary feet in the water, then walked along together in perfect silence.’ Stasya looked the Commander in the eye, then turned her gaze on Hawk Man. ‘And that was when they saw it, on the margin where water met earth. A lump the size of a small child’s fist. They might have thought it an ordinary stone, save that its colour was a dull gold. As the boy bent to pick it up in careful hands, the girl heard the pines singing, and the song they sang was of a lost brother, gone long ago but never forgotten. Amber , said the boy. It must have been washed down the stream. The girl said, A gift . The pines sang, Remember, remember. And they did remember.

‘The boy was good with a knife. When they were back home, he carved the amber to make a little glowing owl, which he gave to the girl on the first day of spring. She wore it around her neck to remind her of the long, slow passage of time, and the joy of friendship, and the sorrow of losing a loved one. While she wore it, she felt the deep, beating heart of the forest as if it were part of herself. And that is the end of the tale.’

For a little, once she was done, Stasya did feel brave. The sounds from beyond the wall had died down. Perhaps they would let Lukas go, and she could help him get home safely, if she could find the strength. She would find the strength.

The Commander was drumming his fingers on the table, frowning as if puzzled. ‘This lake, this place you speak of,’ he said. ‘Less than a day’s walk from here, yes? And you know the way?’

A silence. There were no safe words.

‘Answer me, girl!’

‘You killed the Ancestor. Why would I answer you?’

‘What? What nonsense is this?’ The Commander turned to Aleksis. ‘The girl’s a half-wit, a mad dreamer. She needs the truth beaten out of her.’

I will not be afraid , Stasya told herself. I will write my own story. If ever there was a time to use the other side of her gift, it was surely now. But she would not. Escape that way and innocent creatures might die, while she would surely be pursued, found and punished as a witch.

Outside the room a sudden shout went up, many voices together. ‘Sir!’ someone yelled. ‘Commander!’

The Commander heaved a sigh of exasperation. ‘Deal with her,’ he said to Aleksis, and strode from the room.

Stasya met the considering gaze of Hawk Man. She held her silence. In his quiet way, Aleksis was more frightening than the Commander. That calm regard suggested layer on layer of secrets.

‘Matiss!’ he called, startling her. The big man appeared in the doorway. ‘Find out where she lives and get her home without any fuss.’

A trick, surely. Why would he do this? And what about … ‘First give back my owl,’ she said.

Aleksis’s mouth quirked. Not a smile, exactly. She doubted such a man was capable of smiling. ‘You have a choice, Stasya. Either the owl remains in our custody or you do. That way we can be sure you won’t bolt. The episode with the horse tells me you’re more useful out working in the community than shut up in here. On the other hand, it’s evident that you have more to tell us. Go free now but stay within the village. Be careful with your actions and with your words. Make sure you’re available to talk to us when the time comes. Matiss, get her out discreetly. Quick as you can.’

Before she had time to be surprised, the big man was ushering her out, and she found she could walk, though quick was hardly the word for it. Matiss gestured silence and Stasya complied. Discreetly , she guessed, meant, with as few witnesses as possible . She couldn’t ask what they intended. Wouldn’t ask. Wouldn’t beg for her precious owl. Wouldn’t plead for the release of Lukas, or of his father, or of any of those poor souls shut in that place. The story hadn’t helped. Getting angry hadn’t helped. Her ritual had provided no insights. All she knew was that she could not stand by and watch them destroy the forest.

As she walked home with the big quiet guard by her side, Stasya made herself think of the day’s gifts rather than the losses. A horse saved; a wasp saved; a disaster averted. A man saved from what might have been a painful and terrifying death. And now, a gift of time, though how long it would be before the Commander or Hawk Man called her back for questioning there was no telling, and she would not ask her companion, whose silence was itself a kind of gift. If Aleksis was like a hawk, Matiss put her in mind of a big faithful dog, someone’s guardian and companion. Which was foolish. He, too, worked for the Commander. He shared the blame for the blight that had fallen on Heartwood. Without a doubt, he was one of them .

They reached her cottage, with its cloak of mosses and trailing creepers, its water trough, its neat wood pile. Inside, Flip was barking; she had heard their footsteps.

‘I’ll bid you farewell, then,’ Matiss said. ‘Might be wise to stay home for the rest of the day. Out of sight, as far as you can. And get some rest; you look worn out. Must take a toll, what you did.’

‘Mmm.’ The man was talking to her almost the way Irina might; as if he was her friend. All part of the strange game Aleksis was playing, a game whose rules were a mystery to her. ‘I will.’

After a little, he said, ‘Live on your own, do you? But for the dog?’

She didn’t want to answer that. ‘I don’t have visitors here. I don’t want them. Folk come to tell me if they want me to work, that’s all. And yes, I have a dog. I’d best go to her now.’ It was impossible to ask what she wanted to ask – if he could make sure the Commander did not learn where she lived.

‘Lonely sort of life,’ Matiss observed.

‘It suits me.’

‘I’ll be off, then.’

He was heading away when she spoke again. ‘Thank you for walking me home.’ Because his act of kindness – the escort, the welcome quiet – deserved kind words in return, no matter whom he worked for. Matiss turned his head, gave her a smile and a nod, then went on his way.