Leslie Moore - Griffin's Daughter

Jelena had no expectations that she would be allowed to celebrate the holiday with the family this year. She had never been invited before, despite the protestations of her cousin Magnes, so this year should be no different. This also no longer bothered her much. She was content to spend the holiday with Claudia, as she always had. The two of them would celebrate by eating their own little Sansa cake together.

Magnes was Duke Teodorus’s eldest child, future Duke of Amsara, and the only member of the Preseren clan who treated her like family. Magnes had been her only friend and playmate during their childhood. Three years her senior and by virtue of his station, he suffered no adverse consequences by befriending her. When they were together, his mantle of protection shielded her, and the worst of the bullying ceased.

Magnes had taught her to read and write, to ride a horse, and to shoot a bow, which she now did with great skill. Jelena loved him dearly, as much as she loved Claudia.

Break time arrived, and Jelena stopped work to get her breakfast along with the rest of the kitchen staff-oatmeal with dried apples, mild yellow cheese, and fresh bread, hot from the oven. Jelena collected her food, and with a mug of honey-sweetened tea to wash it all down, settled into a corner to eat and wait for Claudia.

The older woman soon appeared, and after getting her food and having a few words with some of the other staff, she waved to Jelena and sat at the kitchen’s long trestle table, which ran along the back wall. Jelena almost never sat at the table with the others unless Claudia sat with her. She rose from her corner and went to join her foster mother.

Since both of the duke’s children were now adults, Claudia’s services as a nurse were no longer needed by the family. She had therefore been put in charge of the castle’s laundry. She still acted as the castle midwife and informal healer for the staff, dispensing advice and herbal remedies. She also served as liaison between the staff and the duke if a serious health problem requiring the services of the district physician arose.

Claudia patted the bench beside her, indicating that Jelena should sit. Her clothes were still damp from the moist air of the laundry, and a few stray wisps of wet, gray hair straggled from beneath her linen cap. She had a slightly quizzical expression on her face as if she were trying to make sense of something puzzling. “Saw yer uncle the duke just now, afore I came t’get my breakfast. He told me to tell you to come to his study straightaway. I told ‘im you’d still be eating, so he says oh well, then, have her come when she be finished. Now, what d’you suppose he wants with you this mornin’?”

“ I have no idea,” Jelena replied. Her uncle rarely paid any attention to her at all, much less summoned her into his presence. He seemed to prefer that she stay away from him. A vague sense of unease sent tiny prickles down her spine, like spiders skittering over her skin. What on earth could he possibly want with her on this particular morning? She found that her appetite had deserted her, and the food that she had already consumed had turned to rocks in her stomach.

“ I’d better go now,” she murmured, pushing her dishes aside.

She stood up and removed her apron. Claudia took the garment from her and draped it across her shoulder. She reached out and squeezed Jelena’s hand in reassurance. “Nought to worry ‘bout, my girl. He prob’ly just wants to invite you to eat with the family this year, is all.”

“ After all this time?” Jelena shook her head in disbelief. “I think it must be something else.” She gulped down the remainder of her tea and left the kitchen by a side door. In order to reach the castle keep where the duke had his private quarters, Jelena had to first negotiate a maze of tables that had been set up in the yard for the public feast.

Jelena rarely entered the keep. Since she had no official place in the ducal family, and her duties did not involve chambermaid’s work, she had almost no reason to cross over its massive stone threshold. The few occasions when she had been inside, it had almost always been at the invitation of Magnes. Despite their long and close friendship, she had only ever been to his private quarters once, and that had been several years ago when they were still children. Both she and her cousin recognized the impropriety of her coming to his chambers now that they were grown.

Jelena remembered the way to her uncle’s study from the last time she had been there, a little over three years ago. The day of her fifteenth birthday, the duke had summoned her to tell her she had officially come of age now, and could choose to stay at Amsara Castle to live and work, or she could leave. If she chose to stay, she would remain his ward until he could arrange some sort of match for her, if possible. At the time, she felt as if she’d had no other choice. She had chosen to stay, for where else could she go? As difficult as her life was at Amsara, she knew no other home.

The keep’s massive, iron-banded oak door stood open. Jelena stepped through and stood a moment, blinking owlishly while her eyes adjusted to the dimness.

Dust motes swirled and danced in the shafts of sunlight spilling down from slit windows set high up in the walls. Ancient banners hung from wooden poles set at regular intervals into the stone. The grunts of horses and the good-natured shouts of men-at-arms at their morning exercises drifted through the open door. An elderly wolfhound lay in a patch of sun near the great hearth, soaking up the double warmth of fire and solar heat. His tail thumping rhythmically upon the stone floor, the dog’s liquid amber eyes tracked Jelena as she moved farther into the room.

“ Come here, Ghost,” Jelena called softly to the dog, and the old beast climbed laboriously to his feet and ambled over to her. He pushed his massive, grizzled head into her hands and stared up adoringly into her eyes.

In his prime, Ghost had been Magnes’s favorite hunting dog and his constant companion. Despite his ferocity in the field, he had always been patient and gentle with people. Now, stiff and slow with age, he spent most of his days either lying before a fire or sleeping in the sun.

Jelena bent to press her cheek against the wiry fur atop Ghost’s head, breathing in his musky aroma. She had always loved this dog for his sweet nature and because he belonged to Magnes.

With a final scratch behind the ears, she left Ghost at the foot of the stairs leading up to the second floor of the keep. Climbing took too much out of him now, so after uttering a soft whuff of farewell, the big dog went back to his patch of sunshine.

Jelena made her way up the stairs and down a short corridor to the polished oak door of her uncle’s study. Before knocking, she smoothed her skirts and made sure that the tips of her ears were hidden beneath her hair; concealment of the most elven of her features had become automatic. This simple act of protective camouflage somehow always made her feel a little safer and stronger. She drew in a deep, shaky breath, and rapped firmly.

“ Come!” a deep voice called out from within.

Jelena pushed the door open just wide enough to slide her slim body through, closing it carefully behind her. She paused, her quick, hazel eyes taking in the scene before her. Dark, heavy wood and shadowy corners made up her uncle’s study. A small fire burned in the stone hearth to her left. Tapestries hung against the walls, depicting various scenes from the Stories of the Gods. Numerous cases and tables were scattered about the room, all serving as display areas for an extraordinary collection of scale models. There were models of ships, siege engines-even a complete replica of Amsara Castle itself. All had been lovingly constructed out of wood and metal by the duke’s own hands. The smells of dust and wood smoke infused the air, and a telltale tickle in Jelena’s nose heralded a sneeze, which she quickly stifled.