Gadolor

Lortosa

Sebastian didn’t talk to her much for a while. His expression was cold, and he only spoke to her to tell her what to do. She did everything she could to appease him, trying to keep up with his quick strides, gather as much food as she could, and cook their meals. She even half-heartedly tried to trap a rabbit but was glad when the snare failed.

There were some women washing their linens in a stream nearby, and Romni decided to join them. She gathered up Sebastian’s square of canvas, which served as a tent, along with all their extra clothes, and bundled them down to the rocky shore. A dozen women crouched over the water’s edge, gossiping and scrubbing garments. More were spread over the warm gravel to dry, with children running between them, wearing various amounts of clothing, who hoped in vain to escape their baths.

The women clearly all knew one another and Romni was shy at first, but they welcomed her and gave handfuls of soapweed for her to use. It was wonderful to plunge into the task and forget her troubles. She was amazed at how dirty their things had become. The cold water was refreshing, and the sun was warm that day. Romni supposed her body could use a wash too, so she slipped underwater and scrubbed herself down.

A woman downstream teased her neighbor, “Edna, your son’s tunic is soiling my linens. You’ll have the whole river brown before you’re done.”

“Nonsense,” Edna retorted, “Yours is so filthy, it’s coming upstream and soiling mine.” So the women gibed back and forth.

Romni waded out and lay in the sun. When wet, her brown hair always took a reddish tinge. One of the older women said, “Your red hair is pretty, child. Long ago all our kings had hair like yours. A few still have it.”

“Ay, hair like fire, those maidens had,” another said, expanding the story.

“A strong people they were. The women could bear thirty sons in their youth.” Romni smiled at their wives’ tales. She wasn’t afraid anymore of being recognized as the princess. They were far from Esthen, and she realized something about her had changed. Would the people there even recognize me?

But those thoughts were soon swept away by the great river Oris. The stream Sebastian had been following flowed into the Oris with a great mixture of brown and blue water, and on the opposite shore was a bustling town. This was the river Prince Andel had swam when he turned the course of the war. True, it was much smaller upriver, but to brave this swirling torrent was an impressive feat. She was glad to have gotten away from him.

They stood atop a hill, taking in the sight. Beside her, Sebastian laughed. “The Oris! Say goodbye to Esthena. Lortosa awaits, land of color and song and dance.” There’s no going back now. They went down to the shore and paid for a ferry to take them across. The brown water swirled and gurgled around the boat, gradually separating Romni from her country, her people, everything she had known. Lortosa greeted her, land of her enemies. But of course, they weren’t her enemies now; she wasn’t the princess of Esthena anymore.

Sebastian had turned giddy. As soon as they left the boat, he dashed ahead, making her run to keep up. “Look, look, Romni,” he said, running down a busy street, pointing toward an open space that was full of people, “The market is the best place.” She giggled, infected by his excitement. The market was so noisy with laughing and bleating and snorting and shouting that Romni thought her ears would get too full and burst. Everywhere vendors were selling things: bright woven cloths, sparkling jewelry, an ornate dagger, and every kind of food. Sebastian led her around, pointing out interesting things. Somehow a big yellow fruit ended up in his hands, which had thick skin and tasted very sweet. The juice ran down her chin and tickled her neck. The place was five, no, ten times livelier than the market at Esthen.

He kept talking that night, where they slept in a quiet alley, about all the adventures they would have. “There’s more people here. I think it’s worth putting on a show.”

Romni gave a gasp of delight. “Juggling? Oh, do it, Sebastian. I wish you’d been juggling before.”

“It isn’t worthwhile without a lot of people to watch and give money.”

An idea suddenly struck her. “Sebastian, I could juggle too. You could teach me how, and people would be twice as impressed.”

“It doesn’t really work that way,” he said, thinking about it. “I don’t think it’s worth teaching you. But here’s something you can do. When I start juggling, pretend you don’t know me and act very excited. That will help draw a crowd. Usually, the hardest part is getting the first person to stop and watch.”

“Pretend I don’t know you? Is that honest?”

He laughed. “You’re worried about that? You can’t be the perfect little princess here. This is Lortosa. Besides, you do like watching me, don’t you? Good, then watch me juggle and tell everyone who walks by to watch me too.”

— § —

They tried it the next day. She wandered the streets alone for a few minutes, then found him standing on a corner, the juggler just beginning his act. He turned a cartwheel, jumped in the air, let out a great shout, and tossed a handful of stones in the air. They soared above his head—his teeth gleaming in a smile as he looked up—then he was juggling, tossing them up one at a time in a hypnotizing pattern. Romni stood dumbly for a moment, then remembered her job.

She started with a big belly laugh, which she’d seen a fat man do when he was impressed. But since she didn’t have much of a belly, it sounded more like a cough. A group of children was there, and she called to them, “Look at this!” calling also to anyone who walked by. Her own frenzied energy surprised her. Already several people had paused, chuckling at his skill. It was wonderful to watch his carefree tricks.

By the time it was over, Romni was sweating and her throat was sore, but she was happy. Sebastian’s pan was half full of coins. She hadn’t seen that much money since leaving home. Sebastian was all laughter. His arm grabbed her around the shoulders and hugged her. “Well done, girl,” he said, kissing her, “Well done.”