Chapter 5

“Myrddin!” Daelia finally recognized the bird that stood looking her over with beady eyes. She stood at a distance, and then hesitantly took a step towards the massive bird. Why was Wren’s pet here, so far from his mistress? Had Wren sent him to find her? “At least I think you are Myrddin. Do not tell Wren; I never could tell you all apart.”

Myrddin cocked his head to one side, and then the other, watching her slow approach. Daelia had seen what those talons could do to a hare and knew better than to startle him. He opened his mouth and let out a loud squawk.

Daelia jumped back a bit at the noise, but then moved close again. Carefully, she reached towards Wren’s falcon, allowing him to catch her scent before lowering her hand to the leather tube tied securely to his foot. The leather strings were knotted securely, but she worked quickly, not wanting to keep her hand close to Myrddin’s sharp beak any longer than necessary.

The bird remained still as Daelia stepped back, tube in hand, and removed from it a small slip of parchment.

Feverishly, she unrolled it and read the words that Wren had written neatly in ink. The short letter began “Dear brother or sister,” and indicated that she had sent out each of her falcons in search of her family.

“I know that by doing this, I am defying Duard and his direct order,” she read aloud quickly, “However I feel I am somehow right to do so….We need to regard Deus’ will as higher than Duard’s.” The message ended with Wren’s love, and a request for a reply to be sent back with the falcon.

Even now, Myrddin was beginning to eye the open window as if in preparation for departure. Quickly pulling the shutter closed, despite the falcon’s squawk of protest, she ran in to the shop to a wooden chest on the counter. From it she took a quill and a small pot of ink.

She read Wren’s letter through once more and then turned it over, dipping the quill in the ink. She began to scratch hastily.

Dearest Wren,
I thought I should never hear from you again, but this letter has brought me hope! I apologize for the things I have said against your falcons in the past, for today they are quite angelic creatures. Though I know not where you are, I pray you are well. I am faring fine, though I am unsure of where I will go next, as my current situation is looking bleak. However, Deus has been good to me thus far, and I hope to find a solution soon.
I also pray that Duard is kept ignorant of this letter, for I would not wish harm to befall you on my account. If possible, please pass on to our brothers and sisters that I am well. I await news of them.
My love is with you,
Daelia

She rolled the letter up tightly and replaced it inside the leather tube, which she then re-attached to Myrddin’s foot. Sadly, she opened the shutter and watched as, with a beat of his wings, the falcon hopped onto the window sill, and then flew quickly out of sight.

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The day that Daelia had been dreading had finally arrived; Sealen was leaving the city this very morning.

“Are you certain you do not wish to come with me, my dear?” The bearded baker asked, even though he had already asked many times before, “My sister would love to have you—“

“No, Sealen; but thank you anyways.” Daelia hugged him tightly, wondering at her decision for the hundredth time. “I shall never forget how kind you have been to me these last two months.”

Sealen shook his head as he took up his bag and walking stick. “I do not pretend to understand why you would stay here without even a place to sleep tonight; but I do know that you have been a great help to me and wonderful company. I hope that your God can take care of you the way you think He does.”

Daelia smiled, “He will, and I pray that he protects you on your journey.”

The gray haired baker nodded and then set off down the street, waving to her just before he disappeared into the crowd.

Well, there is nothing to stay for now, she thought as she turned to gaze at the bakery, now empty with widows boarded shut. Finneas had left the week before, having used the money from his paintings to purchase a mule that would carry his supplies and remaining artwork back to his family in Wainden. Something about the artist reminded her of a tale her mother Lydia had once told her; a story from the scriptures. She shook her head, Poor Finneas, I hope he finds what he’s looking for.

Gathering up her courage, along with her bundle, quiver, and bow, Daelia turned south and began to walk. She did not know where she was going, but felt certain she would know when she got there.

The glare from the midmorning sun bounced off buildings and muddy cobble-stones, causing Daelia to squint as she made her way through the twisting lanes of Parsaena’s poorest district. Her worn, blue tunic, leggings and simple leather boots were elegant compared to what the residents of this district wore. The area where Sealen’s bakery had been was poor, but as she viewed her surroundings, she realized that there were parts of town in far worse shape; and, she suspected, far more dangerous.

She knew little outside the security of her home and the forest, but she could sense when a situation was not friendly. This she had learned chiefly from Duard and his divisive ways. Rough looking men stood idling in alleys, leaning against cracked buidings with sagging roofs looked her over as she passed, smiling at her in a way that caused her to keep one hand on her bow at all times.

Few children were visible; those she did see sat despairingly on broken crates or piles of rubble left out in the streets. A couple of dirty boys ran out from an alleyway chasing an equally dirty cat and almost knocked her over as they pushed past. One little girl, who sat playing with a bit of rag fashioned into a doll, watched her with big sunken eyes as she approached. Daelia paused. The face of the little girl was so like Ilara’s at that age; the hunger in the expression pulled at Daelia’s heart.

Stooping down in the filthy street, she quietly asked the waif’s name.

“Junia,” was her wary reply. The child’s attention focused on Daelia’s hand as the stranger pulled out of her bundle a bit of rye bread and handed it to her. “My name is Daelia. Are you hungry, Junia?”

The girl’s response was to quickly snatch the food and consume it with astonishing speed.
“Where are your parents, dear?”

Junia shrugged her shoulders and picked at the rag she held, wishing the strange woman would produce more food, “Soldiers took them away yesterday.”

“To work in the fields?”

“I suppose.”

“Why didn’t you go with them? Why are you here by yourself?”

Suddenly, the child’s dark eyes took on a haunted look, “They said I couldn’t come; they said I was worthless because I cannot work. Mama cried, but they wouldn’t listen. She said she was going to come back her to get me, so I’m waiting for her.”

The picture was becoming clearer in Daelia’s mind as she remembered one of her discussions with Sealen.

I’m leaving Parsaena because, if I do not, I will be punished as a debtor to the governor, He had informed her as she helped him pack, Those who cannot pay the tax are taken away to work off their debt. He had laughed mirthlessly when she asked why everyone did not leave. Because many people refuse to be driven out of their homes, believing that somehow, something will happen to make the taxes drop. Some believe that there is still some good left in the rulers of this city. Only when they are being dragged out of their houses and on their way to debtor’s prison do they understand the gravity of the situation. We in Parsaena are a stubborn lot.

Looking at her, he had said in a firm tone, Things will not get better. As long as Severus is governor of Parsaena, things will only get worse for people like you and me.

The heartlessness of the soldiers reminded her again of her own childhood with the Guardian. As she beheld the pitiful little bit of humanity before her, Daelia began to wish she had followed the warning and left with Sealen.

“Will you come with me, Junia?”

The little girl shook her head violently, “I have to wait here for Mama.”

“Darling, your mother is going to be gone for a long time. It would be best if you came with me. Perhaps we can look for someone you know along the way; have you any other family?”

“No; granna died last winter of the fever.” Junia peered at Daelia carefully, then down the street, to the rag in her lap, then back to Daelia, “Are you sure Mama won’t come looking for me?”

Daelia shook her head, gently assuring the small girl that her mother would be away for a long while, and that she would take care of her in the meantime.

Though I don’t know how I shall feed the both of us.

Junia seemed to mull her options over for a moment before agreeing to go with the strange young woman. Taking Daelia’s hand with her own small, dirty one, Junia wriggled off her perch and fell into step, stuffing her doll into the torn pocket of her rough dress.

As they walked together, Daelia looked down at the little girl at her side and wondered what had possessed her to think that she, a homeless, penniless, and almost foodless, outcast could provide for a small child.

Deus, I may have been hasty, but please don’t let us both starve. Her hand once again went to her bow as she added, Or get killed by those shady characters up ahead.