A Circle of Crows (6 page)

"I just have a lot to do, Evelyn. I'll be back earlier than last night."

"That is, unless Her Hatefulness decides you should pull all the hair from her brushes, or polish her silver vanity set."

"Yes, we both know that is entirely possible.” And this time, she could not help smiling as well and turned to depart.

Softening, Evelyn said, “Mari, take this muffin with you. You're beginning to look frail. I need you robust, not slight."

"Thank you,” Mari said sincerely and quickened her pace out the door and down the path to the castle.

Even the servants’ entrance to the castle was guarded. Four young soldiers, ranging in ages from nineteen to thirty, stood at four points of the gate to monitor the comings and goings.

"Good morning, Miss Marisol! You are early today!” called Christian, flashing her a smile that could make even the most cynical knees go weak with its beauty. She smiled back and as she did, she slightly moved her blouse to reveal her black opal necklace and she fingered it as she went past. Colin was in charge and only glanced down and nodded as she went by.

When she was safely past, he grinned to himself and rubbed his hands through his hair.

"Miss Mairsol!” yelled Christian, “shall you join us later for a drink? What shall we drink to today?"

"To hope.” And she darted into the entrance. As she closed the door, Colin's voice softly whispered, “To love someone so much is a painful, dangerous thing, indeed."

Once inside the castle, Marisol hurried to the kitchen to obtain the queen's breakfast. One of the old women in the kitchen approached her and touched her arm to get her attention. “Leave it quiet like, Mari. She was up half the night in one of her frenzies."

"Thank you, Helga, I will do just that."

Marisol quietly opened the door to the queen's chambers with her key. She was one of only three servants entrusted with this privilege. The queen, the captain of the guard—who was rumored to use it at all hours since the untimely death of the king—and herself.

As this was a lofty position for such a young maid, she felt the reason this had been entrusted to her was that the queen thought her simple-minded. Marisol rarely spoke in front of the queen, and merely smiled and bowed daily when addressed. The queen thought Marisol incapable of putting two thoughts together, which was just what Mari wanted.

She laid the queen's breakfast in the sitting room and glanced into the bedroom. She was going to prepare the queen's clothes, when she heard, “Mari, come here."

"Yes, milady.” The standard curtsey and bowed head followed.

"Mari, can you cipher numbers?"

"A little, ma'am. I was only six when I arrived, so I have received some figuring, I suppose."

"On your rounds today in the lower levels, I want you to take a parchment and count the number of children there. I want a second opinion, one free of military influence."

"Yes, ma'am. I will do my best."

"It's a shame you are so daft, Mari. You are quite beautiful, you know."

"Thank you, ma'am."

Mari closed the door and smiled ... all was going as she had planned.

Chapter 12

Morgana woke to her second night
in the gloom
as she thought of it. She had decided to start marking each day away from her home on the dungeon wall in an attempt to keep herself oriented. Three days so far ... what she wouldn't give to be lying at home on her bed with Chloe as the sunlight streamed across it. The familiar image of the Jack Russell terrier sprawled on her bed made Morgana smile and tear up all in the same moment.

Three days total so far. She had begun to memorize all the children's names and ages, where they all came from, and how they were enticed here. They had all taken to calling her “Sissy” following Eva's lead. They were so happy to have any sort of order and comfort in their lives, that the crying had significantly decreased since Morgana's arrival and her appointment as overseer of the children. One little boy, Tom, had stopped eating altogether, or so a girl of ten had informed her. But now with Morgana's encouragement and caregiving, he had begun to come around and was now able to sit up on the hay bales fashioned as beds.

"Sissy, what shall we do today?” a little boy named Evan inquired.

"I thought we'd play a game called ‘Let's remember.’”

All the children who were able to began to form a circle around Morgana. Her days of helping out at storytime at the inn were definitely of use now. The familiar taste of tears soured her mouth as Morgana was again struck by a feeling of homesickness. She shook her head as if to ward off the memory.

"Sissy, I'm hungry. When will we eat?” said Susan, a plumpish little girl whose mind seemed perpetually on food. However, a chorus of agreement sounded from all the children.

"You know I can't make the guards bring food, so we'll just have to wait. Let's play the game to keep our minds off our hunger. Who would like to go first?” No one volunteered. “Eva, what about you, hon?"

"Okay."

"Tell me what you remember about your first day here."

"I don't remember much. I was playing outside with my brother John, and Mama was calling us in because the sun was going down. I just had seen a firefly. I thought they were all gone for the summer, so I followed it. I just wanted to catch it. I followed it down to our pond and I was reaching...” Eva shuddered violently, and her eyes glazed over as if to shield her mind from the memory.

"What happened?” Morgan prompted, sympathetic, but more interested in any bit of information that might help her get out of this horrific place they had all landed in.

"The water came up in a huge wave, and out of it came the men.
The bad men.
They grabbed me and pulled me under the water. I tried to scream, but no one could hear me. I could hear Mama calling my name from the house. I tried to answer, but one of them put something over my mouth and I fell asleep...” Eva's eyes began to fill and her lip pouted and trembled, then she promptly began to wail. As if on cue, all the children began to sob as they all wrestled with their own memories of their abductions. Morgana began to gather as many to her as she could and thought,
Perfect, Morgana.

A clank of the sliding metal doors behind them made them start, then stand perfectly still in grim anticipation. A beautiful woman was walking toward them accompanied by a guard. Her beauty was such a contrast to the dungeon, that Morgana recalled a picture she had seen once in a magazine of a diamond amid dark stones by the sea. A guard accompanied her, but nonetheless, when the children saw her, there was a collective sigh.

"Marisol!” Eva shouted and ran immediately to encircle the woman's legs with her tiny arms. Mari looked down and smiled at Eva as she gently stroked the child's blond locks.

Morgana eyed her nervously as the guard departed.

"It's alright,” she said, “I'm the queen's handmaiden and I've come to attend to the needs of those I can. What do you need?"

Morgana eyed her sternly. “More blankets. These children are freezing.And more food. There is never enough for all of them."

"Alright,” Mari said as her eyes darted about the room, counting children. “Twenty in here with you. What is your name, dark one?"

"Morgana."

Indeed, Morgana was the darkest child in the room. Her dark hair and what was left of her suntan from summer vacation made her look healthy compared to the pale, skinny children before her.

"I am Marisol. I will do my utmost to see your requests fulfilled."

She moved out of sight of the guard and stooped down to the gaggle of children surrounding her. When she looked up, her eyes were bright with tears.

"Be strong, my angels.” She reached into a fold of her purple dress and opened her fist to reveal a handful of candy. “Hide it,” she instructed.

Morgana's disposition towards this stranger now visibly changed as evidenced by her face and posture. Her face softened, and her muscle tone changed so drastically, she needed to lean on the wall for support.

"Follow me, Morgana. I will lead you to the morning meal."

Morgana followed her out of the cell and down the long stone corridor. Many passages shot to the left and right.

Finally, a large oak door was opened by another soldier and they entered the castle proper.

Morgana was speechless upon seeing the opulence before her eyes. “Oh my,” was all she could utter.

"Yes, it is splendid. Bought almost entirely with the blood of the queen's conquests.” Her voice and words were beyond bitter.

"What is this place called?"

"It is called Briar Woods. And you are in the keep of Queen Ivana. The castle's title is Sheol."

"Sheol ... that reminds me of something, but I can't remember what. What does that mean?"

"It actually means the common grave of mankind. The king renamed the castle at the end of his life in his despondency over the fate of his people. He was on his deathbed when he gave the decree. It used to be named Zion."

As they passed down the hallway, Morgana spied a map hanging on the wall. To her distress, she was unable to identify any of the landmasses. Her fear continued to grow that she would never see her family again. Her mother's voice was in her head now, and Morgana remembered what her mother had whispered to her in the nights after her father had been killed.

It's me and you, Poppet. I'll always be with you. Be strong and remember the words I say to you and pull them out when you need them, just like a notebook in your heart. Follow your own heart, Morgana. Trust your instincts.
Morgana began to play it over and over in her head like a mantra.

Marisol led her to the kitchens where they filled two large trays and placed them in the dumbwaiter. Then they unloaded the trays onto carts and began to descend again.

"Stop here, Morgana.” Mari led her into a small room and opened a closet. “Change into this. Many people are suspicious of Outlanders. They will be more kind if you are dressed as one of us."

"Outlander?"

"Anyone not from the local shire who comes by way of the portals."

Morgana slipped into a simple gown that was still more elaborate than anything she owned in her closet at home. She felt like she was back in her school's production of
Nicolas Nickleby
; or when her aunts needed her help over Christmas vacation and they had provided her with her own renaissance style dress.

"Morgana, I have the feeling you and I will be able to help one another."

"How?"

"We both want the same thing—to have the children safe and out of here."

"Okay, I'll do whatever you ask.” A glimmer of hope glowed in Morgana's chest; she was almost afraid to acknowledge it.

"Just be strong for the little ones. I can see you are already, as you have not succumbed to the melancholy of your plight."

Good thing I liked Shakespeare in English Lit.

"I will also see that the children get the water they need for bathing."

They entered the dungeon, and Marisol began to turn right.

"Where are you going?"

"Twenty more down this hall,” she said grimly.

The question Morgana had been afraid to ask spilled out of her mouth, “Marisol,what year is it?"

"It is 1879."

Chapter 13

The sun rose and shone on the inn. It would have been a perfect fall day if not for the previous day's events. Raena was the first to rise and sat staring at the coffee maker, willing it to fill the pitcher more quickly. Rachael came silently in and laid her head upon the table, too despondent to speak. Rae walked over to the window and saw Bella shuffling across the courtyard between the cottage and the inn. Bella, too, looked as if she were having to face Morgana's funeral, instead of a day without her. Rae understood this, because Morgana's presence was everywhere at the inn. Rae could not look at one room or place where a memory of Morgana did not exist. As she looked out the window, she could see Morgana and Chloe jumping into the piles of leaves when she was four years old, her beautiful dark hair hanging down to the small of her back in braids.

Bella came into the kitchen and sat at the table with her sister, then laid her head beside Rachael's while taking Rachael's hand. The front door of the inn tinkled its greeting and Sam entered the kitchen with donuts and rolls from the
Daily Grind Café
in town. He looked around the scene in the kitchen with Rachael and Bella's heads laid upon the table. Raena was facing the window, her head bowed and tears falling silently into the sink.

As Sam was a sensitive man, his pain for these women he loved almost overwhelmed him, too. Then he pictured Morgana tackling him outside just three days before and anger welled up inside him.

"Okay. Where are the stubborn, determined, relentless, difficult women I see everyday of my life? I need those women to step forward now."

He had their attention now. Rae had turned from the window and as she wiped her brown eyes, he noticed they were clouding, which usually indicated a squall was about to erupt. He smiled at her. “That's my stubborn sister, welcome back."

Then in unison, Rachael's and Bella's heads rose from the table. While Bella's face was set in grim determination; Rachael still looked uncharacteristically weak, but she made a futile attempt to get her emotions under control. Bella looked pointedly at her husband. She silently thanked him with her eyes.

Rachael rallied, pain and grief feeding the force of the anger and determination she felt now as she said, “Sam is right. This wallowing in pity isn't going to find her. Let's move, I know she's alive."

"Yes, she most definitely is,” said Bella and Rae nodded in agreement.

"Rachael and I will go back to the library and search again. Then we'll try city hall,” Rae spoke convincingly now, the early morning uncertainty fading into a driving need to act.

"I'll walk down to the police station. Cody owes me a favor from fixing his roof after that summer storm, so he won't ask too many questions if I inquire about old records."

Bella looked around the kitchen. “I'll stay here and see if I can locate any more of the previous innkeepers’ letters for information."