Gadolor

Beets and Weeds

They traveled on, often at night, often off the established roads. Sometimes Sebastian led them along streams or certain hills that served as landmarks. The land here was all farms and wilderness, with few big towns. Often, they would see sprawling fields—wheat or corn or grazing cattle—without a glimpse at the houses they belonged to. This was southern Esthena, which her father called Ranch Country.

Entressa longed to see the towns, with their common folk running around trading and gossiping and thatching their quaint wooden homes, but Sebastian wouldn’t let her. “News of us is everywhere,” he said, “The crown is looking for you. It won’t be safe for people to see you for a while.” He was right, of course. But she still longed to see them.

Those hours waiting for him were hard, when he went into towns without her. What fun things was he seeing there? Flowers and maids with pretty dresses? Donkeys with fuzzy noses? But greater was her fear: what if they caught him in one of those towns? Or what if they found her where she sat hidden under bushes or rocks? She imagined stamping horse hooves and soldiers’ armor as they crashed in, sweeping her back to that stone house where the wind didn’t play with her hair, where cold-hearted men planned her whole life.

She was getting a little better with the flint. Once, she even started a cookfire while Sebastian was away. He laughed proudly but said they’d have to put it out because they were near a town and someone might see the smoke. “You would love this place,” he said, “Their haystacks are taller than a horse, and the children make little houses in them. But the sausages were the best.” He rubbed his stomach happily.

“That’s lovely. When can I go into a town?”

“Soon. The longer you stay hidden, the better. The money we brought from Esthen will last a little longer. We’ll have to start working for our food soon. Can you do anything useful?”

“I can read,” she said. “And I can work with numbers a little, though I never liked to.”

“That’s fine,” he chuckled, “But skills like that could get us caught. How many traveling girls know how to read? I only know one: the runaway princess. We might as well turn ourselves in at the nearest garrison. Can you weed a garden or spin wool?”

“I suppose I could,” she smiled adventurously.

“But you never have?”

“No.” Sebastian bit his lip, pondering the problem. Romni’s ignorance of menial tasks could be dangerous.

“We’ll have to risk it,” Sebastian said after a moment, “You’ll need to learn sometime. We’ll need a story that explains why you’re no good at farm jobs. You were a maid to a lady no one’s heard of. When she married, she freed you from service, and you wanted to see the world.”

“Okay.”

“Tell me your name and where you’re from.”

She paused. “My name is Romni and I’m from Esth—” He shook his head. “Someplace you haven’t heard of. I’m traveling with you because I love you and I wanted to see the world.”

“Much better,” he said, “Practice that over and over until you believe it. Remember, you’re a nobody.”

— § —

Two days more, and he let her come with him to a little village. It was a charming place of old but orderly wooden houses. They had painted window boxes and thatched roofs. Neat gardens at the houses’ fronts grew various herbs and flowers.

“Ask her for something to do,” Sebastian pointed to a girl weeding a garden. “I’m going to find a job.”

“Hello,” Romni said, walking up. The girl’s tan face wrinkled as she looked up squinting. She was about Romni’s own age. Romni thought her beautiful—marvelous in an earthy, flowery way. “Can I help you weed your garden? I’m looking for a meal.”

The girl nodded and returned to her work. Romni knelt and inspected the soft ground. A plethora of green sprouts was spread before her, some good plants, some weeds. How could she tell the difference? A careful look at the ones the girl was pulling told her where to start. Soon she was making good progress.

“Not that one,” the girl said softly, “That’s beet.”

“Oh,” Romni said, “What about this?” Her partner nodded. They look the same! Shrugging, she pulled up the offender and left the beet. She had some learning to do. “My name is Romni. What’s yours?”

“Marie.” The girl gave a shy smile from under her bonnet. Romni wanted to ask about all the plants and what they were used for, and what Marie did here in the village, whether she liked living here, and how many brothers and sisters she had. But the shy girl’s silence bade her focus on the weeds. Often Romni would point at a sprout, and Marie would nod or shake her head. She was a patient teacher.

After a while, an aproned woman appeared and called them to dinner. The house was dark and stuffy after the open air, but it was full of warm cooking smells that made Romni’s stomach gurgle. The mother, Marie, her brother, two sisters, and Romni all crowded around a small table. The father was apparently away for the day. The brother was a strong boy who, despite having washed, still smelled like horse sweat.

There were biscuits and cheese and fruit-sweetened oatmeal, with fresh milk that had frothy bubbles on top. Marie’s younger sisters had fun sucking in the bubbles and slurping the milk, though their mother discouraged it. Romni wanted to smother them with questions but refrained, letting the familial talk wash over her.

After dinner, Marie’s mother asked if she would be staying for the evening, but Romni said no. Sebastian wanted to keep moving. The shy girl gave her a rare smile as they parted. She found Sebastian outside the village, drying strips of meat by a fire. They walked a few more miles before settling into a cozy hollow at sunset.

This became their routine. Sebastian and Romni ate armfuls of berries and herbs as they walked between villages, and sometimes Sebastian caught a squirrel. She didn’t like eating them—it was awful to eat something so full of life. Sometimes when she looked a squirrel or bird in the eye, she thought she could guess what it was thinking. They thought about nuts and seeds and worms and leaves, and whether these odd human creatures were likely to eat them. Once, Romni set a squirrel free from Sebastian’s trap when he wasn’t looking.

When they came to a village, they would split up and find someone to give them work and a meal. Romni enjoyed these times, meeting people and learning new tasks. Everything she did was new, and she loved every second. Her eagerness easily replaced her lack of skill. One old woman chuckled as she scrubbed a wooden floor, “Easy, child, or you’ll be scrubbing the dirt soon.”

They walked by day and slept at night. It was an odd life, walking so much. Romni wouldn’t have thought people could walk all day without getting bored. Each bend in the path revealed fresh wonders, often causing her to dance ahead and admire a plant or mushroom or turtle. “Just look at it,” she would say. Sebastian just chuckled and shook his head. These days, she never peered into dusty old books, and she never put numbers together on paper. The people she met treated her simply. Occasionally they talked about the runaway princess with sad faces, and Romni didn’t enjoy that. But altogether she felt as if she were living a happy dream.

Gradually, as her fingers became too few to number the days she and Sebastian had traveled together, the rolling hills became steeper and rockier. The woods here were thick, full of cedar trees on hilltops and brambles in the valleys. Though her feet were already getting tough, she stepped more carefully than before. Romni saw fewer farms, and they all seemed to have cattle instead of crops. She and Sebastian ate only wild food—mostly nuts and berries—and she craved hot fresh bread. But he was cheerful, saying they’d reach the river soon and there would be fish.

It was raining the morning they reached it. A slow summer storm, the kind that lasts all day and gets everything wet, was dripping through the trees and plopping on the rim of her hood, sometimes finding a way to wet her face with a cool drop. The hills had gradually been getting lower, and now the valley opened onto water. They walked up to the brow of a cliff, peering through branches at the water flowing quietly below. Beyond, a flat floodplain lay at the feet of more hills.

They made their way down to the water’s edge and rested under the cliff’s overhang. Romni counted the big drops as they fell from the trees above, splashing onto rock a few inches from her toes. “We’ll follow this stream down to the Oris River,” Sebastian was saying, “There should be people to feed us along the way. And then, it’s across the River and into Lortosa!” He smiled, relishing the thought.

Lortosa. Romni hadn’t thought to ask where they were going. Anyplace with Sebastian was better than slavery in the castle and a marriage she didn’t want. But Lortosa was Sombron’s country, the enemy they’d fought last year, the one who had pillaged her towns and slaughtered her people. With the help of King Lorind and his son, her father had defeated him. Now the enemy was rumored to sit fuming on his throne, cursing her people.

“Lortosa?” She couldn’t imagine what would happen if she went and the enemy found her. “If they find out I’m the princess, they’ll kill me there, or. . .or worse.”

Sebastian shrugged. “Only I know where you came from, and I’ll never tell.”

“But Lortosa is the enemy,” she protested.

“I was born there.” That made her think.

“You. . .you’ll never tell who I am?”

“Never. Why would I rat on you? You’re my girl. You’re my love. I’ll never tell, I promise.” She smiled and laid her head on his shoulder. He hugged her. “Besides, you have more enemies in Esthena now. It’s been a major embarrassment for the crown, you leaving with me. I don’t think they’d be any happier to see you than Sombron himself.”

She didn’t like thinking about that. She loved Sebastian but hated disappointing her father. And Andel seemed like a good man, even if he did want to marry her. He doesn’t anymore, she thought. There were rumors that the prince had gone mad. Sebastian was all she had now, and she would wish for nothing else. Watching the rain splash steadily into gray water, she decided to follow him to Lortosa and enjoy this grand life of his.