Chapter 6

Daelia woke to a sharp kick on her leg and a loud, growling voice above her head. “Oy! Get off my step; you can’t sleep here!”

Scrambling to her feet, she almost dumped Junia out on the ground; the little girl had been sleeping snuggled next to her under her heavy cloak. She looked up at the large, rotund woman who had kicked her. Evidently, the building in whose doorway Daelia had chosen to rest for the night was not empty after all. The raised broom in the woman’s pudgy hands told Daelia it would be better to leave without a fight.

Muttering an apology, she grabbed her things and Junia’s hand, and hurried away. She could feel the woman glaring at her from behind.

Junia looked as though she was barely awake as they trudged slowly along a group of shops, but she was awake enough to smell the aroma of food coming from several of them.

“I’m hungry. Can we have some food soon?”

“I will try to find some, dear, I just don’t know where.”

The little girl gazed longingly into the front window of a shop selling meat-pies and fried sausages, “Maybe there will be a nice man inside who will give me some, like those people yesterday at the market.”

Daelia only quickened her pace; trying to ignore the draw of the savory meat she knew filled the flaky pie-crusts. Every part of her revolted at the thought of begging for food. After all, wasn’t she a Romany? She and her family had been hunting, trapping, and growing their own food for more than two centuries and never once had they been unable to feed themselves.

Yet, here she was, with a young child on her hands and no money.

No, I cannot—will not— beg! I am an outcast, but I still have pride! I shall simply have to find another way to get food.


But she found no food that day or the next day. By then, some of her pride had worn away with hunger. She considered selling the only thing of value she carried, her bow, but quickly dismissed the idea. There was an inborn element of her that would rather die with weapon in hand. Even as the thought crossed her mind, she knew it was foolish.

On the third day, while Daelia was busy pleading with a woman in a fruit and vegetable stand to let her work in exchange for food, Junia slipped an apple from a vendor’s cart into her pocket. After being turned away yet again, Daelia found the little girl crouched down behind a pile of baskets, crunching happily on her stolen piece of fruit. Daelia admonished the little girl thoroughly for stealing; all the while wishing she had an apple herself. She couldn’t pay the vendor back, so she simply took Junia’s hand and hurried away. Her conscience pricked, but the emptiness of her stomach hurt worse. So this was how thieves and pickpockets were made. What was happening to her?

“Hey, you there!”

Daelia stopped in the middle of the street and peered around for the source of the words. Many people bustled around her, talking and making noise. She did not see immediately who had yelled, so she simply continued moving through the crowd towards the large bridge ahead of them.

“You there, girl, stop!”

This time she caught sight of a tall man making his way through the crowd to where she and Junia stood.

To her surprise, Junia cried out and wrenched her hand out of Daelia’s grasp, running over to the man. “Junia, come back here!” The little girl did not listen, so Daelia followed her.

“Do you know this man, Junia?” The little girl, who had the big man by the hand, nodded her head emphatically and replied, “Oh yes, he’s my papa’s friend, Alesius! He comes over to my house sometimes to talk with papa.”

The man called Alesius looked from Daelia to Junia, then back to Daelia. “Why do you have Carran’s child so far from home? And who are you?”

Daelia was so surprised that she was unsure for a moment how to answer, “Her parents have been taken to work for the governor because they could not pay their taxes. She had nowhere to go, so she is traveling with me.”

“But we have no food, and I am so hungry!” came Junia’s quick contribution to the explanation. Daelia’s face went red, knowing that she had not been able to care for the child very well.

Alesius appeared grieved at the news that Junia’s parents were now slaves of the city. He picked the little girl up and whispered something in her ear. She nodded happily in reply to his words. Alesius turned to Daelia, “Thank you for bringing the child this far and for protecting her. I shall take her home to my wife to look after until such time as her parents are released. I wish you good fortune in your travels.”

The man did not trust her completely; she could hear the dismissal in his words. It felt awkward to simply leave Junia in the care of a stranger, but it was obvious that the little girl felt he was trustworthy. So she said farewell to Junia and her new guardian, quickly turning to melt once more into the teaming crowd.

All alone. Again. Even all the times she had spent in solitude in the forest at home had never produced such feelings of isolation. Suddenly, as people pushed past her, she felt as though the air was being sucked out of her lungs. What had at first seemed like an adventure, now foretold of imminent failure. The great city of Parsaena was beginning to feel less like freedom and more like a cage.

If I could only get out of this city, then I could hunt! She said to herself as she crossed onto the wide bridge spanning the Theine River. The view the bridge afforded of Parsaena’s attractive waterway was as lovely as Finneas had said, but she barely noticed, being trapped in her own thoughts. In the woods, I am in control; I can take care of myself. But in this place…helpless! Like a child! There is not even so much as a hare. I am no better at taking care of myself in this city than Junia!

The bow and quiver that bounced against her back with each step seemed to taunt her. To her skill with a bow, many a wild beast had ended up on the Romany table. She longed for the openness of the country. But where would she go if she were to leave Parsaena? If I can live here long enough for Duard to forget about us, then I can go searching for Aiden, Taerith, and the rest.

What was she thinking? Duard never forgot anything. But he’s old, and he can’t live forever. Or can he? Arnan, always the troublemaker, had tried to frighten her as a child by whispering that their guardian was only part human: that he had sold his soul to the devil in exchange for ten-pence. Of course it wasn’t true, and Aiden had almost thrashed him for telling this tale once when Duard was in listening range. Daelia smiled at the recollection of Arnan’s mischief. He had almost driven her to distraction with his troublesome ways sometimes, but now she missed them. He had always had nerve, and was probably fairing well on his own wherever he was.

She leaned over the high stones wall of the bridge to glimpse the black water swirling below. She was angry; mostly at Duard for his hand in her situation, but also at herself. In truth, she was ashamed of herself, embarrassed that she had faired so poorly on her own. After all, she was a Romany, the eldest daughter; the blood of warriors flowed in her veins. She had always wanted to be strong, a rock for her family. All the strength and emotional fortitude she had developed in the years while caring for her family seemed to have vanished the moment she stepped foot in Parsaena; carried away like the waters of the Theine. I am not as strong as I fought so hard to appear. I pretended for so long, I almost had myself fooled.

Daelia sighed in frustration and shifted her pack from one tired arm to the other. Pushing away from the stone wall, she continued on her way to the other side of the river.