A Young Adult Fantasy Novel by Debra K. Dunlap
Gwenllian’s idyllic life takes an unexpected turn when the Red Uniforms destroy her village, forcing every adult to fight to the death. In shock at the demise of her parents, the fifteen-year old girl realizes she must assume responsibility for 16 orphaned children.
Leading the young refugees on a journey to what she believes is a place of safety, Gwenllian stumbles across a most surprising sanctuary. Joined by an old man, who teaches magical skills, but possesses few himself, an old woman who travels with only a crazy goat for company and an aggravating shape-shifting boy, the children struggle to establish a life for themselves in the hidden refuge.
The concealed settlement thrives and grows, becoming a target for the wrath of the King. Desperate to protect the hidden sanctuary, Gwenllian struggles under the tutelage of the old man, seeking to learn to control her previously unsuspected magical powers.
When she discovers a powerful family secret, Gwenllian faces a difficult decision—relinquish her responsibilities or learn to re-shape her own destiny.
Rubyar on the Mountain
by Debra K. Dunlap
Published by MuseItUp Publishing at Smashwords
ISBN: 978-1-927361-46-7
Copyright 2012 Debra K. Dunlap
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To my present and future grandchildren—
May your lives be filled with love and magic.
Gwenllian huddled beneath the thicket, watching as her home burned. The village resounded with shouts and the clash of swords. Her twelve-year old brother, Amery, clutched her hand so tightly her fingertips felt numb. Despite her pounding heart and churning stomach, she could not tear her eyes away from the scene before her.
A soldier darted from one home to another, grinning as he held a burning torch to each. For a moment, tiny flames licked at the base of the potter’s cottage before bursting into such a wild conflagration it seemed the world was on fire.
Bernie, her father’s closest friend, stood trapped in the midst of three soldiers. One of the three laughed and thrust his sword into Bernie’s chest. After wiping his blade on the dead man’s tunic, he left the lifeless body in the dirt and ran toward the sounds of the fiercest fighting.
Only the memory of her mother’s last words kept Gwenllian from screaming. “Stay quiet and don’t move. The other children will join you here soon. When the red uniforms leave, go to the lake home. You’ll be safe there. Take care of your brother and the others. I go now to fight at your father’s side.” Mother had kissed them before pulling branches down to conceal them. Her face gleamed with tears as she clutched her sword and ran toward the center of the village.
Children crowded into the hiding place, most shoved into the thicket by a parent. A few straggled in without guidance. Gwenllian dashed out once to snatch a toddler sobbing as he wandered alone. The child quieted instantly when she held him close. Thank God, our parents demanded we practice the emergency drills. Her face grew hot at the memory of her frequent complaints about the drills.
She held her breath as a soldier lumbered near the thicket, unbuttoning the front of his trousers. As the man relieved himself, she glanced at the terrified faces of the other children, willing them to remain silent as they had been taught.
The smoke thickened as daylight dwindled. The younger children slept cradled in the arms of older children. Those awake stifled their coughs by tugging their shirts up over their mouths as they peered in silence through the brush.
The red uniforms had torched every home, and most had burned to the ground. Bernie’s body lay sprawled in front of the thicket. Gwenllian stuffed the hem of her gown into her mouth to silence the screams she felt building inside her chest.
The sharp metallic clang of sword-on-sword and the angry shouts finally died away near dawn. The whoops of the red-uniformed victors drowned out the wails of the wounded and dying. When a short invader with a scraggly, blond mustache found the village wine stores, the whoops increased in enthusiasm.
Carrying bottles of wine and singing loudly, two men staggered past the hiding place. “Oh, I’m a soldier in the king’s army! We fight for the crown, we do! We’ll steal your cows, leave yer men bleeding, and yer women will cry boo-hoo!”
“Arh, enough o’ tha’singin’.” A thin, gangly soldier clapped a clumsy arm around his companion’s shoulder. “Lesh find us another jug o’ this wine and maybe a friendly maiden, eh? Wha’ do ya shay, Bob?”
Bob hiccupped. “No maidens around here but might be shum more wine.” He tossed his empty jug on the ground before weaving his way to the storehouse. Eventually, all the invaders lay slumbering in a drunken stupor, warmed by glowing embers of the homes they had earlier torched.
The children stayed hidden and silent throughout the night. The young ones slept, and in the dim light of the dying flames, it proved difficult to see the faces of the older children who remained awake. Gwenllian wondered how many understood the significance of the surcease of the fighting. None now live to defend the village. Mother! Father! Our homes, our parents—everything gone! Except us.
Bina, the twelve-year old daughter of the weaver, whimpered softly and crouched. Gwenllian’s arm snapped out to jerk the girl to the ground. Using the hand signals taught to every Rubyar child, she indicated the girl must relieve herself without moving elsewhere. After the child had urinated and used her hands to scrape dirt over the dampness, Gwenllian squeezed her shoulder, trying to ease the girl’s embarrassment.
Even the older children now slept, fatigued as much by terror as the late hour. Only Gwenllian continued to gaze over the smoldering ruins as a horse galloped into the center of the village.
The rider, in dark armor that gleamed blood-red in the dawn light, leaped from the horse. “Drunken louts! Arise, fools!” He kicked viciously at the men slumbering on the ground.
One sat up and held his hands to his head, poking his neighbor with a toe. “Bill, wake up! It’s ’is lordship, it is.”
Bill responded with a groan and staggered to his feet. Soon all had awakened and stood in a ragged semblance of military stance, staring at the ground and cowering at the approach of the dark-haired man. “Prepare to depart. We ride to the Royal City this day.”
I have heard that voice! Shocked, Gwenllian stared as the tall stranger lifted the helmet from his head and shook his long black hair. Her sudden sharp inhalation sounded loud, even to her own ears. The stranger glanced around in suspicion but fixed on a nearby drunk. He slapped the unconscious man with the flat of his sword and failing to gain a response, stabbed the point through the man’s chest.
Gwenllian covered her ears with her hands to drown out the gurgling sound of the man’s dying breaths.
It’s the peddler! He sold the ribbon for my hair and the horse to Father! The stranger had arrived just before sunset in a wagon pulled by a plodding, sway-backed mare. Father’s eyes glowed at the sight of the magnificent black stallion tied to the rear of the wagon, but he was a shrewd bargainer. He spoke not of the horse but walked with his arm around the stranger’s shoulders, introducing him to the men while the women eyed the stranger’s stock of iron pots and fabric.
In the end, Father returned with the stallion, a bolt of deep blue fabric for Mother, a set of carved pipes for Amery, and a lovely red and gold ribbon for Gwenllian. “Ah, girl, soon you will be a woman with a man of your own, and you’ll not want a ribbon bit from your old father.”
He smiled as he spoke, but Gwenllian had thought his eyes held a touch of sadness. She threw her arms around his neck and whispered, “No, Father. You’ll always have my heart.” Father handed the pipes to an excited Amery while Mother tied the ribbon in Gwenllian’s long, red hair.
Remembering that day not long past, Gwenllian lifted a hand to the ribbon in her hair and choked back a sob. The last gift my father gave to me.
A voice drew her attention. The false peddler spoke to his subordinate. “The last known Rubyar village and that means the last of the Rubyars! They put up quite a fight for such a small group, but I never doubted the outcome. Have the men followed orders with respect to the bodies?”
“Yes sir, all destroyed as you ordered.”
“Very well. I suppose it’s time to inform His Highness.”
Gwenllian thought she detected a hint of sarcasm in the man’s voice. He continued, “These fools have destroyed anything of value by burning everything. I planned to retrieve my stallion, but now…”
They strode out of Gwenllian’s hearing range. She clenched her fists as the tall man kicked at a soot-covered vase. Blaise finished painting that vase only three days ago. She’ll be so angry! Overcome by the realization that the beautiful, vivacious Blaise would never again be angry about anything, Gwenllian covered her mouth and wept without sound.
She felt a hand touch her shoulder. Amery gave her a questioning look. She lifted a finger to her lips, but he understood the need for silence. He signed, “Will Mother return soon? I’m hungry. Can we go home to eat?”
The children had not eaten since the previous day’s noon meal. It was a miracle none of them had awakened during the night crying for food. She had to find something to feed them. She peered through the brush and saw no signs of movement nor heard any sounds. The red uniforms had departed. Waking Bina with a soft tap, she signed that Bina should help Amery watch over the children and keep them hidden.
Gwenllian crept out of the thicket, turning back once to make sure the other children remained hidden. Skirting Bernie’s corpse, she walked through the charred remains of all she had known, stifling the urge to cough in the acrid air. She turned her head, unable to look, as she approached three motionless bodies face down in the dirt.
I have to know. Fighting nausea, she knelt beside the bodies. These are invaders! She felt a momentary burst of triumph at the thought that at least some of the invaders had not escaped unscathed. Where are our parents? Could they have escaped? As soon as the thought occurred to her, she realized it was impossible, wishful thinking. The grownups would have fought to the death to protect their children.
Stepping carefully to avoid the smoldering timbers and hot ash, her search lasted only a short time. Bits of clothing and a boot were visible in the smoldering ruins of the storehouse. The invaders had thrown the bodies of the slain into the storehouse and torched the building. Why? Armies don’t bother with the bodies of the enemy!
She heard footsteps behind her and whirled.
“I’m sorry. I tried to keep them hidden, but they wouldn’t listen. They want their mothers.” Bina wrung her hands, and her eyes filled with tears.
The surviving children stared at the destroyed storehouse, which now served as their parents’ final resting place. Kendal, the twelve-year old son of the local woodworker, tore his gaze from the ruins to look at Gwenllian. “Our parents are dead, aren’t they? Are they in there?”
One, two…fifteen. Only sixteen children alive, counting me. Gwenllian’s eyes widened. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she put an arm around Kendal’s shoulder, knowing there was no way to soften the blow with the evidence before their eyes.
“Yes, our parents died protecting us. I will care for all of you.” She hugged Kendal and used the hem of her skirt to wipe the tear-streaked soot from his face. The children moved closer to listen. “We all miss our parents and feel sad, but we can help each other. If we work together, we will survive.” Someone tugged at her skirt. “What is it?”
Eyes wide, Amery pointed and whispered, “Something moved. Over there, in that junk by Lanie’s grandfather’s house.”
Gwenllian ran toward a soot-covered hand waving feebly from beneath the rubbish. “Someone’s alive under that stuff! Come help!”
Before they had time to dig, the hand flung aside the charred lumber. The children held their breath and watched a body slowly crawl from beneath the wreckage.
Gwen stared at the ash-encrusted face for only a moment. “Lanie!”
White teeth smiled in a filthy face. “Yep, it’s me! Damn, my arm hurts.” Lanie, Gwenllian’s best friend since both were toddlers, made a futile attempt to brush ash and soot from her clothes. “Well, let’s get busy. I heard the little ones cry and you give the orders to search for food…that’s when I woke up.”
“Woke up? Lanie, explain! What were you doing under that junk? How did you survive under a stack of burning wood?” Gwenllian stared at her friend and gestured toward the storehouse. “There are things you should know.”
Lanie’s grin faltered. “I know, Gwen. I saw what happened. Gramps sent me to the field to check on Mazie. When I got back, I crawled between the boulders behind our cottage. I knew Gramps had chores for me.” She hung her head and pulled a well-worn book from her pocket.
Gwen understood. She often disappeared with a book, too. “You could not have known this would happen.”
“I know, but still…” She wiped her eyes. “I looked out when I heard the horses galloping into town. The fighting all took place here. I couldn’t get to the hiding place without the red uniforms seeing me, so I stayed. When Grandfather’s cottage burned, part of it fell on the boulders. I guess something hit me on the head.”
“Lanie, your arm is burned, but you know how to fix it, don’t you?” Amery chewed his bottom lip.
“I do know how to treat it, and you can help me get my grandfather’s bag from the springhouse. There’s an ointment that’s good for blisters, boils, and burns.” She gave Amery a reassuring smile. “Now, let’s help your sister find something to feed these poor little ones.”
Gwenllian hugged her friend. “Will you stay with the two youngest children? Bina has cared for them since…well, since…” She gestured toward the younger girl who sat nearby with a toddler in each arm.
“Of course. We’ll talk later, after the others are asleep.”
“Okay, everyone, listen. Nobody wanders alone. Travel in a group, minimum of two in every group. Keep quiet because we don’t know how far away the red uniforms have gone. Bring any food or blankets you find back here to Lanie.”
The children scrambled, but Amery followed Gwenllian. “Where are you going, Wennie?”
Gwenllian gave him a wan smile. Amery had called her ‘Wennie’ since he was a toddler unable to pronounce her name. “To the field. Maybe the red uniforms didn’t find the animals.”
She inhaled deeply as they reached the meadow; the scent of the tender, green grass was a relief after the choking smoke. Amery reached for her hand at the sight of the older ewes lying motionless.
“They must have carried off the younger sheep.” Gwen sighed. “And no goats…I hoped we might get milk for the little ones.”
A dark shape burst from the trees at the edge of the field, careening toward them. They’ve come back!
“Run, Amery!” Gwen gathered her skirts and darted after her brother. He slowed, and she knew the shock of their parents’ death and the lack of sleep and food had sapped his stamina.
The footsteps, muffled by the meadow’s soft grass, pounded closer. Had a horde of invaders followed them? She risked at glance behind her. Tripping over her skirts, she fell onto a dead ewe. The musty scent of it filled her nostrils.
“Ugh.” Rolling off the dead sheep, she struggled to disentangle her skirts and stood. No invader chased them, desirous of their death.
A stallion stopped short of stepping on her and nickered. She wrapped her arms around his neck and breathed in his horsey-scent, feeling the first sliver of hope since her mother shoved her under the scrub brush. “Amery! No, wait, come back. It’s Jester! Jester’s alive!”
Jester pricked his ears forward as Amery approached.
“He has a scratch on his leg, Wennie. We’d better tell Father right away…Father. Gwen inhaled sharply. “Father…”
Tears spilled from eyes as dark green as Gwenllian’s as Amery’s shoulders slumped.
“We’ll take him with us. Lanie is as good at doctoring animals as people.” Gwen put an arm around her brother. “We will take care of him and each other. Father and Mother would expect that of us. We’ll put Jester in Blaise’s barn, since it didn’t burn, and get Lanie’s bag from the springhouse before we go back.”
The others had returned by the time they arrived at the barn. The children gathered wood while Gwen organized the found items, and Lanie spread ointment on her burned arm. “Ahh, much better. How can I help? Bina has the little ones again.”
“Would you look for greens or herbs? We’ve only grain to cook for dinner. A few herbs would improve the taste. It’s too early for berries.”
After a bland but filling meal, the toddlers napped while Gwen and Lanie watched the youngest children play. “They may forget for moments at a time, like this, but they will never truly forget. Heal but scar. Ugh! They need a bath.” Gwen gestured toward a small boy with a face nearly obscured by a covering of soot and dirt.
Lanie said, “We all do. The creek?”
“Yes.” Gwen snapped her fingers. “Let’s take everything to Blaise’s barn. There’s plenty of hay we can use for beds, and it will be cleaner than sleeping on the ground.”
First complaining at the idea of a bath, the children played and laughed as soon as they were in the water. Gwen opened her mouth to remind them to be quiet but snapped it shut. They’ve lost their homes and their parents. Let them make a little noise. If the red uniforms come back, we’d never escape a second time anyway.
Gwen first washed Lilly and Didi and then herself. She left the babies happily playing in shallow water with Bina and joined the others. The children’s laughter lifted her spirits, and she put recent events from her mind until the waning daylight jerked her back to reality.
Later, after nestling the children in beds of fragrant hay, Gwen whispered to Lanie, “We can’t stay here. The red uniforms could return anytime.”
“You’re right, but where can we go? We’re both only fifteen…how can we take care of so many children?” Lanie twisted a lock of hair around her index finger.
“Mother said we’d be safe at the lake home.” Gwen’s voice trembled at the memory of her mother’s face. “Maybe going to a new place will help us leave the bad memories behind us.”
Lanie patted her friend’s shoulder. “We could fish and pick berries at the lake. If we leave soon, we could dry food and prepare for winter, just as we’ve been taught.”
“We’ll spend tomorrow and the next day preparing for the trip. On the third day, we’ll start for the lake.”
They scrounged an amazing variety of useful items: chipped pottery from the midden pile, bits of fabric useful as diapers for the babies, a few pieces of clothing and horse blankets found in the barn, the last of the winter stores from the springhouse, and several tools.
“We can’t carry all of this, and it’s too much to pack on Jester in a bag, if we had a bag.” Lanie wiped sweat from her brow and gazed at the heap of found items.
“Let me think.” Gwen plopped onto the ground and put a fist under her chin. “Let’s build a frame for Jester to pull. If we cover it with a blanket, we can use it to haul our supplies and maybe the babies can ride on it.”
Kendal wrapped a leather scrap around a saw blade discovered in the ashes of his father’s shop with the handle burned away. Gwen and Lanie watched him march toward a grove of trees with his head held high, Amery at his side as designated assistant.
“They should be playing games and tormenting their sisters, not acting as carpenters.” Gwenllian sighed.
“Like you said, we all must help, or we’ll not survive.” Lanie spoke softly. “And look at them…you can see how proud they are to be chosen for such an important project.”
“Let’s just get to the lake. Life will be easier there, and maybe they can just be children, at least part of the time. It isn’t easy for me to act like an adult. Just imagine how hard this is for them.”
* * * *
It took only a short time to tie the frame together with scrounged leather straps. “Ok, let’s give it a try.” Gwenllian shook her head at the improvised conveyance. She walked to Jester’s head and grasped the lead rope. “Giddyup!”
Jester walked only a few steps before the poles came apart with a loud snap, startling him. He jumped sideways and stepped on Gwen’s toes.
Amery gasped. “Wennie, are you okay?”
“Yes, yes, I’m fine. Damn! It does smart, though.” She hopped on one foot to where Kendal and Amery squatted over the poles. “Here, Lanie, hold the rope for a minute, will you?”
“You know Mother gets mad when you say that.” As soon as he spoke, tears filled Amery’s eyes.
“It’s okay, Amery. C’mon, help me fix this. The design is okay, but our leather is old and weak. The strap broke, see?” Kendal clapped a hand to Amery’s shoulder, and the two boys retied the frame using extra straps softened with a bit of cooking grease found in the springhouse.
The children gathered to watch the second trial run as Gwen led Jester down the hill from the barn and back. Everyone cheered and crowded around the two boys to thump them on the back. Gwen smiled at Kendal and Amery’s beaming faces. “Our first triumph! Good work, boys.”
Amery and Kendal grinned at one another. “Our second triumph comes at dinner. We have a surprise for you. A little something we cooked up with the help of Cassia.” Amery nodded toward a tow-headed girl, scuffing the ground with a bare toe.
Gwen smiled at the three younger children. “Okay, finish with whatever you’re doing. Lanie and I will unhitch Jester and take care of him.”
Early that evening, Amery and Kendal led everyone to the river. “Ta da!” Amery gestured toward a beaming girl, who stood near several smoky fires built beneath improvised fish racks. “Look at what we learned from Cassia.”
Rows of fish hung from the racks, drying in the smoke. Fish wrapped in leaves steamed in the heat of a fire built under stones. “Cassia used to hunt with her mother and fish with her father. We helped do the work, but this was all Cassia’s idea.”
“Oh, this is wonderful! The dried fish will last for days, and we’ll get to the lake quicker without stopping so often to look for food. You should all be very proud of yourselves.”
After dinner, Kendal stretched and gave an ostentatious yawn. “Isn’t it time for bed?”
“Yes, I agree.” Cassie rubbed her eyes.
Soon, several children rubbed their eyes while others yawned. A loud snore sounded.
“What’s going on? I know you can’t all be that tired.” Lanie narrowed her eyes.
Gwen smiled. “Yeah, I know what a battle it usually is to get Amery to bed.”
Kendal gave her a sheepish grin. “Well, the sooner we go to sleep, the sooner morning comes, right?”
Lanie grew silent.
“Off you go then.” After the children bustled off to bed, Gwen turned to Lanie. “What is it?”
“I guess I suddenly understood why they wanted to rush to bed. It’s a way to leave this behind, the terror and loss, I mean. It’s hard to leave but impossible to stay.” She gulped. “I can’t believe I’ll never see Grandfather again.”
Gwen listened in silence, staring into the fire.
Lanie patted her friend’s arm. “Your parents were very brave fighting side-by-side.”
Though silent tears rolled down her cheeks, Gwen felt a fierce pride in her parents’ courage. “What happened to your grandfather?”
“He fought near your parents. It’s hard to believe he could wield a heavy sword at his age, but he did. Your parents tried to get to him when he fell, but they couldn’t. There were just too many red uniforms. If our village had a wizard, your parents and the rest would yet live.”
“Father said those of wizarding blood were dying out. It’s too late for us anyway.”
Gwenllian lay awake long after Lanie fell asleep. How do I keep so many young children safe on such a long journey? We can leave this place, but the sadness and loss will follow us.
“Come in, come in. You must be weary, Rob.” Enan Dei removed his heavy crown and hung it unceremoniously on the armrest of his throne. He stood and waved a well-manicured hand toward the fireplace. “Let us refresh ourselves while we speak of your journey.”
Rob lifted the helmet from his head and shook his long black hair. “My thanks, Your Majesty. I have much to tell but would indeed appreciate a meal by a warm fire.” His eyes narrowed as he watched the king traverse the small room. Well, well. Would you look at that. The man is getting old and soft. Not even a jeweled belt can hold in his gut. Nor can a linen shirt hide those flabby arms. And what happened to his dark hair, once his pride? Now it’s white and thin. Naught but a frizzy white halo about his head.
Rob snorted and coughed to cover the sound. Halo, indeed. The old reprobate is practically quivering with eagerness to hear that the Rubyars are on the way to extinction.
Enan Dei sank into a soft chair close to the fire but cast a longing glance at the throne across the room. He clapped his hands, and a small army of servants entered bearing trays and platters of assorted delicacies. “Yes, yes. Sit them there on the sideboard and leave us. You, the one with the wine, fill our glasses and leave the bottle here.” He indicated the small table beside his chair. “Now leave us.”
Rob filled a plate with the king’s chosen foods and presented it with a flourish. As he piled thick slabs of venison on his own plate, Rob cast a furtive glance toward the corner. It’s true. The crazy old bastard has put a throne in every room. “Well, my lord, we have hunted and destroyed all known Rubyar descendants. Now we must wait for word from our scouts before proceeding further.”
Enan Dei’s face wrinkled in distaste. “Must you speak so bluntly? I prefer to think of these activities as protection of the crown. You are aware the Rubyars may all be traitors desirous of injuring my person. They may well all be murderers!”
“Of course, Your Majesty. Forgive the indelicacy. I thought you might wish to know your orders had been carried out, particularly with respect to the bodies.”
“Yes, yes. The evidence, uh, bodies were burned, then? As I ordered?” The king’s fingertips twitched on the arm of his chair. “Good. I want there to be no chance that any escape by feigning death. It also removes the possibility of any sort of martyr’s burial to rile up the population.”
“Rest easy, my lord. It is finished.”
Enan Dei drained his goblet in one gulp and refilled it. “I have an idea. Nay, an inspiration. It’s about those red-haired Rubyars.”
That’s certainly not the first bottle emptied in this room tonight. Rob used his napkin to wipe the wine slopped by the king’s unsteady hand. “Tell me, my liege. What is your idea? I am sure it will prove brilliant.”
An hour and three bottles of wine later, the king snored in his chair. Rob leaned back in his chair, rested his booted feet on the table in front of him, and contemplated the slack face across from him. I could kill him easily, so easily. Yet, why bother? The old sot will kill himself soon enough. He never did have the stomach for doing what needed doing. Like ridding the country of that meddling do-gooder, Emmerich Leith Rubyar. Disgusted by the sight of drool pooling on the king’s white linen shirt, Rob clapped his hands. “Come! The king has need of your services.”
Two burly, male servants entered the room, evincing no surprise at the king’s condition.
“See that he gets to bed.” Rob shook his head and strode from the room.
Gwenllian surveyed the assembled children and hesitated, feeling a lump rising in her throat. “The occasion requires some sort of speech, but I’m not sure what to say. You’ve all contributed to our efforts and done a wonderful job. This journey took three weeks when we traveled with our parents. It might take us less time because we have fewer possessions to carry and no elders needing rest. We’ll follow the river trail so we will always have water. Remember, stay near one another. Let’s go!”
Gwenllian led Jester to the storehouse ruins. The children followed in silence, pausing only to snatch wildflowers. One by one, each child dropped a flower onto the charred timbers and stepped back. Gwen placed her flower and reached to remove the bedraggled ribbon from her hair. She folded it carefully and tucked it into a pocket so she wouldn’t lose it during their travels. Mother and Father, I swear I will find him and see that he pays for this.
Grasping Jester’s rope, she turned and walked from the village. The children followed without speaking.
That first morning passed quickly with the children rushing ahead, excited to reach the lake home. Unaccustomed to responsibility for so many young lives, Gwen developed a headache trying to keep everyone together. “Ugh, how did our parents do it?” She sighed. “Peter and Devon…no sword fighting during the day!”
When the group paused so Lanie could tend the boys’ scratches, Gwenllian frowned at the offending boys. “Wait until we stop for the evening before you mess around, okay? We’ll never get to the lake if we have to make stops for injuries every day.”
By dusk, energy levels waned and tempers frayed. Lilly and Didi wailed in hunger. A fistfight broke out between two young boys. “Let’s stop for the night.” Gwen rubbed her aching temples and pointed at a group of girls. “You. Please help Bina feed the babies some of those leftover grains. Amery and Kendal, help Cassia set up a cooking fire. Lanie and I will unload supplies for dinner and take care of Jester, while the rest of you collect pine boughs for sleeping.”
Standing with his fists planted on his hips and chin lifted, a small boy stared at Gwen. “Do it yourself. You can’t tell me what to do. You are not my mother.”
“Your name is Wilym, isn’t it?” Gwen wrinkled her forehead, thinking. “You’re right. I am not your mother, but someone has to be in charge.”
“Who says it has to be you?”
“Wilym, I don’t have to be in charge, but someone has to take care of the children. Our parents are gone.”
He burst into tears. “I miss my parents! I don’t want to go to the lake without them!”
Gwenllian put her arms around Wilym. “We all miss our parents. I promise you I won’t always tell you what to do. We will have council meetings so that everyone shares in decisions. First, we have to get to the lake so we have a safe place to live. Then nobody will tell anybody what to do.” She looked at the children who had gathered to watch. “Every voice will be heard.”
Wilym regarded her a moment before using his sleeve to wipe tears from his face. “Okay, Gwen. C’mon, everyone. Let’s help set up camp.”
* * * *
They soon learned to pace themselves, and the next week’s travel proceeded with amiable tempers. Gwen paused at the top of a hill to wipe sweat from her forehead. “Whew! I can hardly wait for a swim in the lake.”
“Me, too. How much longer do you think, Wennie?” Amery spoke, but Gwen noticed the other children listening with interest.
“Hmm, maybe a week. Maybe a week and a half. Jester could use a break from hauling our contraption, so we need to take a day off…” She broke off and held a finger to her lips.
The children froze at the sound of a voice singing in the forest below the hill. Gesturing for Lanie to take Jester’s lead and the children to wait, Gwen crept down the hill toward the voice. Crouching behind a tree, she peered at the trail.
An old woman with long gray hair in need of a wash and combing ambled down the path. Her shabby cloak, too short by several inches, shook aside at each step, revealing a toe poking through the tip of each worn shoe. She carried a stout stick in her left hand and tugged a goat’s lead rope with the right hand as she sang.
“If to me you can be true, just as true as I—” The singing stopped. “Ye blasted goat!” Dropping her staff, the woman swatted at the goat, which had snapped its mouth shut over a clump of gray hair. “Cursed thing!” She grasped her own hair and pulled. The goat, apparently tiring of the flavor of dirty hair, opened its mouth. The woman, hair released without warning, tumbled backward onto the path.
Gwenllian clapped a hand over her mouth to smother a giggle. Shaking dust from her clothes, the woman stood and gazed straight at the tree where Gwen hid. “You may as well show yourself, girl. I hain’t et no girl yet.”
Stepping onto the path, Gwenllian curtseyed. “Good day, mistress.”
The woman nodded in return. “Your name, girl? You must be daft, wandering alone in the forest with all the goings on of late.”
“I am called Gwenllian, mistress. I do not travel alone.” She watched the goat nibble greens beside the path. If I tell her we travel without adults, she might try to sell us to the next peddler she meets!
The woman’s shrewd gaze held Gwen’s eyes. “I am called Moira. Are you from one of the villages attacked by the red uniforms?”
Gwen couldn’t think of a safe answer.
“Girl, old Moira can be trusted. More than I can say for this pesky goat.” She picked the lead rope from the path and pulled at the goat. “Let’s go meet your traveling companions. Perhaps some of you have need of me.”
The goat’s bleating reverberated around the forest. Only Lanie stood on the hilltop, holding Jester’s head.
Gwen smiled to herself. Good. They’ve learned caution. “It’s okay. You can all come out. This is Moira.”
The children slipped silently back into the clearing, looking to Gwen for reassurance.
“Oh, my, my.” Moira covered her mouth with her hand for a moment and turned to Gwen. “You are the oldest?” She clucked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “I can give you a day, girl, but no more. I have business in the north.”
Gwenllian shared a puzzled look with Lanie and then gestured for the others to set up camp while Moira examined the babies. “First things first. You have done a fine job of caring for these children, but the babies need milk. Everyone gather round, and I will teach you to milk the goat.”
As promised, Moira spent one day with them. She taught everyone a few tricks for starting campfires. She showed Cassia how to tickle a fish and helped Kendal fashion a new handle for his saw blade. She taught Bina to braid Lilly’s baby-fine hair to keep it clean and untangled. She showed the younger ones the difference between green and seasoned wood and joked with Amery as they prepared the evening meal. As dusk fell, she explained healing techniques to Lanie and gave her herbs from pouches hidden within her many layers of clothes.
* * * *
Gwen woke at early dawn to find Moira watching her with an intense gaze. The woman jerked her head toward the trees, and Gwen rose in silence to follow her. “Yours is a difficult task, girl. I shall seek you later, but must now depart. Remember, a true leader is not someone who tells others what to do. A true leader searches for her followers’ strengths and strives to find the best way to use those strengths to benefit all.”
She stopped walking to look directly at Gwen. “You may keep the goat. The cursed thing is the bane of my existence anyway. Now, others have spotted red uniforms in nearby villages. Your brother is a fine young man. Let him and his friends scout ahead for you. It will occupy them and give you advance notice of difficulties.”
She placed a hand on each of Gwen’s shoulders. “Do not let despair overwhelm you. Leadership requires a great deal of courage and selflessness. Here, I nearly forgot.” She withdrew a small leather packet from her clothes. “Keep this. Wrap your ribbon with it and keep both safe. Do not yet wear it. I shall seek you when I can.”
She ambled down the hill, once again singing, but paused to call over her shoulder. “I knew of the ribbon because I questioned the young ones about you.”
Gwen watched until Moira was out of sight and then turned her attention to the leather packet. She gasped at the sight of the small ruby set in a woven gold band. Slipping it on her finger, she gazed at the blood-red sparkle and sighed before returning it to the leather packet with her ribbon.
“Good morning, good morning!” She smiled at the tousled heads peeping from their chosen sleeping places. “Yes, Moira left this morning, but she promised to return soon. Now, let’s have breakfast. Today is play-day, and tomorrow our journey resumes.”
* * * *
They departed the hilltop campsite the following morning, rested and alert. Amery and Kendal ranged ahead in their new role as scouts. Lanie and Bina carried the babies in shirts tied on their backs, the improvised packs provided by Moira. The babies cried far less now they had milk to drink.
“Moira was right when she called this goat pesky.” Lanie called out to Gwen, who led Jester down the hillside.
“That’s a perfect name for her! Pesky it is.” Gwen laughed as the goat tugged its rope free from Lanie’s hand. Pesky evaded all attempts to capture her and ran to Jester’s side. “Since she seems so fond of Jester, let’s take off her rope. Maybe she’ll follow him.”
She did. The younger children giggled at the sight of the goat cavorting at the side of the tall, quiet stallion as Pesky followed Jester throughout the day. Lanie laughed. “You know, I think she’s in love.”
“Well, I’ll unhitch Jester, and the two lovebirds can graze together.” Gwen smiled and glanced at the darkening sky. “Would you have the children gather firewood? It looks like a storm, so we’d best set up camp early.”
Gwen heard the children’s voices in the distance as she petted Jester’s velvety nose and scratched behind his ears. “Okay, buddy, let’s get this unhitched so I can feed you. I still have a bit of grain saved. Hey, where’s Pesky?” Surprised that the goat had left Jester’s side, she glanced around the clearing.
What’s that smell? Something sort of musty, musky…
Gwen froze as a huge bear crashed into the clearing and headed straight toward her. Beady eyes glittered as the bear lifted itself onto its hind legs, an imposing eight foot height. The hair stood up on her arms, and without thinking, she stepped in front of Jester, who could not run with the conveyance still hitched.
The bear dropped to all fours and charged toward her as Pesky crashed from the brush. The fearless little goat ran straight at the bear and dropped her head to ram the huge creature. Startled, the bear sniffed the air once and wheeled back to the forest, crashing through the brush as it ran.
Gwen realized the children stood at the forest edge, Lanie in the forefront holding her arms wide to keep the others from entering the clearing. As the crashing sounds diminished, the children rushed to the goat.
“Pesky’s a hero!”
“Did you see her slam into the bear?”
“Let’s give Pesky a medal.”
Still numb, Gwen watched the children frolic with the goat. She stumbled on weak legs to a fallen tree and sat, dropping her head to her knees.
Lanie gave Gwen a shaky hug and said, “I have never been so scared in my life, not even when the red uniforms burned the village. Were you terrified? Don’t ever step in front of a bear again! What would we do without you?”
“It happened so fast I didn’t have time to be scared. Not until now, anyway. I think I might be sick.” Gwen clutched her stomach. “There must be a cub somewhere close. When I saw the bear rush toward us, I knew I had to do something…poor Jester couldn’t run hitched to our belongings. You would be fine without me. I don’t do anything that the rest of you couldn’t do.”
“Are you kidding? You are the glue holding us together! You keep everyone calm and organized. You make sure the children are cared for, and you make logical decisions, like leaving the village for the lake home.” Lanie paused. “You’ve kept us focused on survival.”
“Thanks, Lanie. I think you’re wrong, but I still needed that.” Gwen shook herself and looked around the clearing. “Speaking of survival, let’s set up camp.”
* * * *
Three days later, Amery and Kendal rushed excitedly back from their forward scouting positions. “Gwen, Gwen! It’s Rusty Rock. Right ahead of us.”
Gwen laughed as the children gathered around the boys, everyone talking at once. “Okay, okay! Let’s hear what he has to say.”
Amery swallowed and closed his eyes for a moment. “Rusty Rock is only an hour ahead of us, maybe two.”
“That means we can reach the lake tonight if we don’t stop for dinner. If we feed Lilly and Didi now, everyone else can eat while we walk. Tonight we sleep in real beds in our summer houses.”
Although they passed Rusty Rock at noon, they did not climb the last hill until dusk. Two conveyance straps broke, necessitating repair stops. A six-year-old disappeared, requiring a prolonged search that led to the discovery of the child napping beside a stream where she had stopped to play.
“I hoped we’d reach the lake in daylight so we’d have a chance to set up beds and cook a good meal.” Gwen sighed. “Well, at least we can sleep under a real roof.”
Lanie patted her shoulder and grinned. “Meh, don’t be so impatient. Tonight, we’ll sleep in whichever house has space for everyone, and tomorrow you can get things organized.”
“No, you two come back here. We all stay together.” Gwen watched the two younglings, heads hanging down, creep back to the group. She stood on tiptoe, looking for the lake, but a thick growth of timber and brush blocked her view. “Amery, Kendal. You stay with the group, too. No need for scouts…we’re going home.” She turned to Lanie. “We might as well start getting them used to the idea that the summer homes are our permanent homes.”
Lanie bobbed her head in agreement and wrinkled her nose. “Ugh, what’s that smell?”
As they rounded the last corner in the path, Gwen pulled Jester’s rope to stop him. Lanie moved forward to peer ahead and then returned to clutch Gwen’s arm. The younger children crowded around them to stare in silence.
The entire summer village, every home and outbuilding, had burned. Nothing remained but ash heaps and a horrible, acrid scent. Gwen felt despair welling up in her chest until she heard the quiet sobs of the children around her. She wiped the tears from her eyes and straightened. “Okay, remember the cave we used to play in when we spent summers here? Let’s set up camp there tonight. We’ll decide what to do in the morning.”
Pesky shot past Jester and gamboled into the center of the ruins, pausing to nibble at greenery sprouting between heaps of ash. The goat ignored all entreaties to return until Gwen led Jester in the direction of the cave. Rushing to the stallion’s side, Pesky shook her head as she followed the horse.
“Hang on. I think she has something stuck in her mouth.” Gwen released Jester and knelt to peer at Pesky. “Yes, there’s something stuck between her teeth. No, don’t bite, Pesky.” She pulled something from the goat’s mouth and gasped. “Lanie, look at this! Red fabric from a uniform. It’s stuck on a bit of wood. Maybe it tore on the corner of a house or a branch. It must have been laying in those weeds she ate.”
They stared at one another. Lanie looked close to tears. “Our parents and our village. Now this. Why?”
“I don’t know, but the soldier who sold Jester to Father said something about the ‘last of the Rubyars.’ Someday we will find out, but now, we need to take care of the children.”
They covered the cave floor with pine boughs and settled the children to sleep. Jester, tethered to a tree near the cave entrance, grazed contentedly with Pesky at his side. “I am going for a walk. I need to think.”
Lanie settled herself on her makeshift bed. “Just be careful, okay?”
Gwen walked along the lakeshore, passing the ruined summer homes and wondered what it had to do with their village and parents. Why? Why did this happen? The last of the Rubyars? She began to climb, pausing once to look in the direction of the destroyed lake homes. They could rig a sled, but they couldn’t build homes by themselves. Besides, the red uniforms could return anytime. Where will we live?
She sat on a moss-covered boulder, ignoring the slight dampness. The lake below her shimmered in the moonlight, and the earthy scent of the forest surrounded her. An owl hooted softly, rousing her from drowsiness. Lanie would probably be worried. Better get back.
Gwen stood and stretched, glancing about for an easy path down the hill. The moonlight silhouetted a dark shape just beyond her. A strange compulsion drew her toward the vine-covered mound. Why, it’s an old dwelling! I wonder if we could make this habitable.
A feeling of power grew within her as she touched the moss-covered stones. She jumped back and stared at the wall, sure it was her imagination working in the spooky moonlight. It’s just…this place is huge!
Ignoring the odd feeling, she stepped to the wall again and searched for an opening. Under a thick covering of fragrant, flowering vines stood an ancient wooden door. Reinforced with heavy iron, the door resisted her efforts to open it. She pushed for what seemed like an eternity, stopping twice to rest her aching arms. Ancient iron and wood creaked and groaned. Finally, the door budged slightly, and she squeezed through the opening.
A room of huge proportions dwarfed her, the ceiling above lost in darkness. Moonlight gleamed through narrow slits high in the wall, illuminating an unbelievable sight. Stone columns, fantastic traceries, wall niches. She stood in no simple, stone dwelling.
She had stumbled upon a deserted castle.
Although moonlight lit the ceiling, darkness swathed the lower section of the cavernous space. Gwen stepped carefully along the edge of the room, keeping a hand on the wall. When she tripped over an unseen object and tumbled to the floor, she spent an anxious moment feeling about for the wall. She rubbed her bruised knee and sighed. The answer to their problems would have to wait for daylight.
She scrambled down the hillside, falling twice in her haste. A horse dragging a frame could never manage the steep incline. They’d have to find another path to the castle.
The return walk seemed to take forever, and exhaustion nearly overwhelmed her by the time she arrived at the camp. After checking on Jester and Pesky, she settled herself on the ground at the cave entrance to wait for daylight.
* * * *
Traveling through the forest at the base of the mountain took all morning. The trees grew so thickly it proved difficult to find a path wide enough for Jester to haul the conveyance. The older children seemed disheartened. Didi and Lilly fussed. Amery and Kendal sulked over Gwen’s request that the boys remain with the group.
“This better work out, or they’ll mutiny.” Gwen wiped sweat from her forehead and looked at Lanie.
“They’ll be fine. Finding everything at the lake burned scared them all over again.”
“I know. I just hope everyone is as excited about the castle as I am. I’d like to run right up the mountain, but I suppose we’d better take a rest stop. Maybe the other side of that clearing.”
Unhitched from the frame, Jester grazed in the clearing, Pesky at his side as always. Gwen leaned against a tree, watching the younger children play a game of tag. “I do not know where to travel next if the castle proves unusable.”
Lanie opened her mouth to reply, but a stranger’s voice spoke from the edge of the clearing.
“Good day to you. Be at ease. I mean you no harm.”
Gwen whirled to face the voice, and the children rushed to group themselves behind her. Jester pricked his ears, and Pesky stared at the strangers. A thin woman approached, holding her palms outward. She wore a faded but clean blue dress and had pinned her slightly graying hair on top of her head. “I saw you crossing the clearing while I worked in the garden. I’m Letty, and this is John.” She pointed at the man, who raised a battered hat in greeting. “We live right there.”
Gwen looked in the direction the woman pointed and saw a small cottage, nearly hidden by trees at the edge of the clearing. I should have let Amery and Kendal scout ahead! Stupid, stupid mistake.
“We haven’t much, but we can offer you a meal.” Letty smiled. “We’ll have to eat outdoors. I don’t think your lot will fit in the cottage.”
After a simple meal of boiled potatoes and greens, Letty fussed over Didi and Lilly, washing their little faces and combing their hair. John leaned close to Gwen and Lanie. “Are you from one of the burned villages?” At Gwen’s nod, he continued. “Our cottage escaped the notice of the red uniforms. Too small for them to bother with, I guess. Other groups like yours have passed this way, although yours is the only group we’ve seen without adults.”
“Why are the red uniforms burning villages? Have you any idea?”
“Nothing but rumor, girl, but we’ve heard it’s orders from His Majesty the King. Seems to think there’s a threat to his throne.” John spoke softly. “You know he murdered the old king? Yes, well, perhaps he fears another will do the same to him.”
Gwen stared at him. “What has that to do with the villages?”
“None know, but it is certain that any who escaped the destruction must remain hidden for their own safety. Where do you plan to travel?”
Gwen hesitated, glancing at Lanie, who gazed at the nearby mountain. “We haven’t decided.”
“Ah, you know of the ruins of Rubyar Castle.” John smiled.
“Rubyar Castle? I don’t know what you mean.” I must be careful of him. He may be a poor woodcutter, but he’s a smart man!
John smiled. “Lass, I know the countryside in these parts. This cottage belonged to my father, and I spent my childhood roaming the hills. I know of the ruins on the mountain top.”
Crestfallen, Gwen stared at John.
“You need not fear Letty and me, child. I have no supernatural powers that helped me guess your intent.” He gestured toward the chicken coop set near the side of the cottage. “Something’s been in our chicken coop the last few nights. Killed two hens. Went out last night to check on the chickens and spotted someone tumbling down the mountainside.”
Gwen hung her head. She had made enough noise to alert every red uniform within a hundred miles.
John patted her shoulder. “Nay, nay, nothing to be embarrassed about, lass. We watch for stragglers from the villages and try to help those we can. That leads me to something…” He stared across the clearing and cleared his throat. “Me and Letty, we always wanted children. We’d be proud to care for your two youngest, raise them as our own. It’s true we haven’t many possessions, but we’ve plenty of love to give. And you’d have an easier time of it without babies.” He glanced toward the cottage where Letty sat holding both babies in her lap.
Gwen stood and straightened to her full height. “We care for our own.”
“We’d rather have the lot of you, but we haven’t the space or the food.” John’s voice held a note of sincere regret. “If you settle in the castle, we could help from time to time. And the little ones would be close enough for you to visit as often as you wish.”
Lanie gripped Gwen’s arm. “Maybe we should consider the idea. It might be best for Lilly and Didi.”
“It is not for us alone to decide.” She gestured toward the children in the clearing. “We must discuss this with the others.”
They gathered on the far side of the clearing, sitting in a circle on the ground. Gwen explained John and Letty’s offer to care for Lilly and Didi.
“Seems a good idea to me.” Wilym tapped his chin with a finger. “We might not always be able to find the right food for babies.”
“But we don’t know these people will be kind to Lilly and Didi!” A younger girl spoke, frowning.
“That’s easy enough to find out.” Amery glanced at his friend. “If we’re living right up there on the mountain top, Kendal and I can pop down to check on them.”
Kendal nodded. “They’d never even know we’re watching them.”
“Bina, what do you think? You are the one who cares for them most often.” Gwen waited for Bina’s answer.
“I know that none of us likes the idea of letting the babies live apart from the rest of us. We are all family now, but I think it’s probably best for Lilly and Didi to have parents and a home.” A single tear rolled down Bina’s cheek.
“They wouldn’t get cold in the winter if they lived in a house.” A young boy piped up, his face serious.
“Does anyone else have anything to say? Let’s vote on it.” Gwen snapped her fingers. “I know! We could ask Letty and John to agree that Lilly and Didi, when they’re older, can choose where to live.”
“And we’ll watch over them to make sure Letty and John take good care of them.” Amery and Kendal nodded at one another.
“Let’s vote.” Gwen refrained from voting. “Okay, it’s unanimous. Let’s go talk to the new parents.”
“Of course they may choose where to live when they’re older.” John smiled. “You may visit them whenever you wish, and we will bring them up the mountain to visit you.”
Letty wrapped her arm around John’s waist. “We will love them and care for them as if they were own, but we will never let them forget they are part of your family.”
Gwen felt a lump rising in her throat as she gazed at the babies sleeping on a blanket in the shade, little faces scrubbed clean and hair freshly combed. “Let’s go while it’s still daylight.”
She hitched Jester to his conveyance and led him across the clearing.
“Wait! Wait a moment.” Letty rushed from the cottage and across the clearing. “Here. It isn’t much, but it’s fresh. I just baked it this morning.” She handed three loaves of bread to Gwen before rushing back to the babies.
Before the cottage disappeared, Gwen glanced back. John and Letty sat near one another, each bouncing a smiling baby. Father spoke truly—the right thing isn’t always the easiest.
* * * *
Despite everyone’s best efforts, dusk had fallen by the time they reached the summit of the mountain. The ruins loomed high above them in mysterious dark shapes and an owl hooted nearby. The children pressed close to Gwen and Lanie.
Gwen gestured toward the boys. “There is a door right over here. Amery, Kendal, come help me get it open.”
Lanie tied Jester’s rope to a tree while the others worked. With a loud screech, the ancient door opened just wide enough for them to slip inside. Even with only dim moonlight as illumination, the room awed everyone into silence.
Gwen stared at the columns holding the ceiling high above as she felt the strange sense of power grow inside her again. She shook her head. “Exploring will have to wait for tomorrow. Let’s take care of the animals and find a place for everyone to sleep. Lanie, will you stay here with the youngest? We don’t want to lose anyone in the dark. Amery and Kendal, would you unhitch Jester? Bring him and Pesky inside. The rest of you, come with me. We’ll gather pine boughs to make beds.”
* * * *
The clop-clop of Jester’s hooves on a stone floor roused Gwen the next morning. She scraped a few pine needles from her cheek and looked for the source of a nearby giggle.