The Chosen Read online

  Kathryn didn’t believe in curses. Lord and Lady Blackwood’s eruptions, which occurred at least once a radian,were the result of two highly opinionated people living together for far too long. Had she just been an observer in the manor she might have found these explosive arguments amusing in their pettiness, but of course that was not the case. The quarrels always began with either the Lord or his Lady finding something wrong with her or with her actions and then they would begin to punish herappropriately. The other would make some snide comment about the touchiness of the other and for the next turn of the radian-glass the manor’s corridors would echo with heated voices. Experience had taught Kathryn that if she stayed she’d sorely wish that she hadn’t. She’d also learned that if she ever wanted to slip away to be alone, there was no better time than when the argument first began and the Lord and Lady were at each other’s throats.

  Quietly she slipped through the halls and corridors that made up Blackwood Manor. Small for her ten years, Kathryn had learned to use her lack of stature and ability to blend in to develop the skill of shadow movement. Lady Blackwood had given her innumerable opportunities to practice the acquired talent until she could almost believe she was invisible to the manor residents. Perhaps she was. No one ever seemed to take notice of her—until they wanted something that is.

  Reaching the manor’s main entryway she waited for the perfect opening. It wasn’t long in coming. Silently, she slipped behind a maid burdened down with linens as she opened the door to the courtyard. With a dullthud, the heavy wooden doors closed behind her. Slowly, Kathryn let out a breath. The manor was the easy part. Now she had to manage to make it across the various courtyards and down the hillside without being seen.

  Normally this wouldn’t have been a problem at daybreak, however today was the King’s birthday and the entire realm was in celebration.

  Including Blackwood Manor.

  Spotting an opening she moved forward, using the shade and other various objects littered around the courtyard as cover, being careful not to disturb anything or create any noise. Taking refuge under a wagon she waited as a throng of servants carrying plucked mallard and quail passed before slowly emerging out from under the wagon.

  Suddenly, Kathryn felt a tremendous tug on her arm and was pulled into the nearest hut. When she realized where she was, her fear slowly subsided. Claude, the manor’s baker, was her only friend and even that had to be kept secret.

  “’Ello young miss,” he greeted her quietly, kneading a large ball of dough and adding another handful of flour as another group of servants hurried by. His monstrous hands dwarfed the dough he was working with and numerous white scars broke the dark skin with scattered bands and spots of white. “Where be you off to this morn?” As he talked to her, Claude reached up and opened several cabinets, searching for spices above and below the countertop, his large frame making the normally spacious bakery seem inadequate for him.

  Kathryn glanced in the direction of the forest. Claude, shaking his head in bewilderment reached into the warming oven. “I’ll never understand why ye love that haunted wood,” he said as he slipped her a small handful of fresh berry tarts secreted in a linen pouch.

  Kathryn nodded a thank you and then soundlessly slipped out of the hut.

  Behind the hut was a small crack in the protective wall that surrounded the manor. Over the years, Kathryn had enlarged the aperture slightly so that she might slip through more easily while also taking great pains to disguise the breach. If the manor’s contingent of knights and men-at-arms found her secret entrance it would prevent her from leaving until she could locate another one.

  Once outside the walls she picked her way down the rocky hillside toward the looming forest just beyond the base of the mound where Blackwood Manor stood. Large boulders and jagged stone littered the steep incline, providing excellent shelter from the sentries above. When it rained the trip was a nerve-wracking slip-and-slide trek through slick mud, but it hadn’t rained for several days and the solid ground made finding a sure path effortless.

  The forest was her sanctuary. It was the one place in the kingdom where people weren’t yelling, beating, or demanding something of her. Here she could stand up straight and wander slowly through the trees and underbrush without fear. Three years ago she had discovered the tranquility and peace of the forest and had since returned every opportunity she got. As she slipped past the giant evergreens that served as the guardians of the forest gates her senses were assailed with the smell of fresh pine, fragrant flowers, and humble dirt. The dirt and pine needles beneath her feet felt like the silks and satin used to create the gowns Lady Blackwood wore. In the early morning radians, mist shimmered around every tree, bush, and boulder like an elegant cloak, hiding the ordinary beneath. Kathryn moved forward and the mist clung to her like another layer of clothing, as if it was trying to hide the tattered sheath she wore beneath its glittering mantle.

  Early in her visits, Kathryn had discovered that while the forest seemed to have a calming effect on her thoughts and feelings, the effect of water went much deeper—soothing as well as calming. Fascinated by water in all its forms, she felt especially drawn toward moving water. She loved to watch it sparkle and shimmer as it fell to the pool below or tumble over rocks in a small creek. Years before she had found a waterfall within walking distance of the manor. Desperate for comfort, she headed there now.

  Her waterfall could be heard several minutes before it actually came into view and she paused to listen to the peaceful sound. Water was one of the two things in life that could make her feel alive. When she had trouble sleeping, she would recall the sounds of its gentle rhythms and immediately feel comforted. On her third visit to the waterfall she had discovered that she could sit and watch the water pour over the rocks and lose any sense of time and place. Lady Blackwood had not been pleased that her personal slave had disappeared for four radians without an explanation and Kathryn winced reflexively, feeling the ghosts of that particular beating. Ever since, whenever she ventured near water, Kathryn kept a close eye on the position of the sun so as not to be late again.

  When she reached the falls itself, she stopped and gazed at the plummeting water, feeling the spray permeate every fiber of her being, rejuvenating her. On the left side of the falls, a small ledge jutted out from the rock about seven meters above the forest floor. It was her favorite place to sit and listen. Clamping her teeth onto the small bag that Claude had given her, she reached up and began to pull herself up to the ledge. Experienced in the climb, it was only a few moments before she had perched herself on the ledge and was opening the bag. The tarts Claude had given her were her favorite. She never got treats like this in the manor so she savored every bite.

  When she had first started slipping off into the forest Claude had been the only one to notice. One day he had grabbed her, just as he had done this morning, and confronted her with it.

  Terrified, Kathryn had kept her eyes on the ground, waiting for the blow to come. To her surprise Claude had then handed her a warm biscuit and said, “I won’t tell.”

  From then on, whenever Claude caught her sneaking out, which wasn’t often since Kathryn worked hard to make sure no one ever saw her, he made sure she had some sort of treat to take with her. He also made sure that the Mistress of Blackwood Manor didn’t suspect her slave was slipping outside the gates, how he managed that Kathryn couldn’t comprehend. Lady Blackwood insisted on knowing everything that went on in her manor.

  Licking the last of the mixed berry filling off her fingers Kathryn climbed down from her perch. As much she loved the forest, she knew that she couldn’t stay long or the Blackwoods would become suspicious. She also had to be more careful climbing down; the climb wasn’t as easy going down as it was going up. She’d missed a foothold or handhold once or twice in her early adventures and fallen into the pool below.

  The first time she had fallen she had been more angry than fearful of the water. She’d watched the village children swim for year
s and that first time she’d hit the water she had immediately began to try and copy their moves. The moves came so quickly and instinctively it was almost as if she and the water were meant to be together. Panicking had been the last thing on her mind, and she was puzzled as to how people could have a fear of drowning. Swimming turned out to be one of the few activities that she enjoyed, however the Lady of Blackwood Manor did not appreciate her servant returning from her chores dripping wet so Kathryn only had the opportunity to swim if it was raining out.

  Once her feet were on the dirt again, she decided that it was time to scout the area to make sure there were no intruders that could stumble upon her unannounced. She carefully made her way across the lea that formed just below the falls and headed for a large rocky crag that overlooked the terrain. Following a game trail that zigzagged amongst the reeds, clusters of typha, and through a copse of evergreen and deciduous trees she quietly approached the mount. After a several minutes of climbing she reached the top and took in the beauty of the forest and the small glen that embraced the tiered pools formed by the falls below. Satisfied that she was alone, she decided to head back for a few more minutes of tranquility. She was halfway down when she heard a small sound. Immediately she stopped and listened.

  There it was again!

  Unsure, Kathryn slowly finished climbing down and then stood still, the rock’s large shadow covering her, offering protection against the unknown. Again she heard it.

  It didn’t sound human and that was the only reason Kathryn followed the sound to its source. The sound led her to the edge of a clearing and there, at the base of a large oak tree was a baby bird, its gray feathers were caked in mud and it appeared to be soaked through. It let out a pitiful cry as she approached.

  As the sound of the cry reached her ears, Kathryn felt something she had never felt before—compassion. She felt sympathy for the little bird, a creature smaller and weaker than herself, and she gently reached out and picked it up. The poor thing was more dead than alive and it seemed all the strength it had was to let out a weak call. Tucking the bird close to her chest Kathryn tried to warm the shivering creature. To her surprise the little bird actually began to worm its head inside her bodice, as if hiding itself away from the world.

  The sound of horses and footsteps tore Kathryn’s attention from the bird and to the other side of the clearing. People. The knowledge sent Kathryn into a state of panic and she raced back into the cover of the trees, finding temporary shelter in the dark shadow cast by a rocky overhang. How did I miss hearing them earlier? she thought to herself.

  Lord and Lady Blackwood’s argument must have been short if her mistress had had time to send knights after her wayward servant. If they found her, they would drag her back to Blackwood Manor and throw her before her mistress…and she knew what would happen then. The Lady of the Manor was famous for her lack of compassion and mercy. Would she be hauled into the dungeon again or simply given the worst beating of her life? She wasn’t sure, and she really didn’t want to find out.

  The sounds were becoming louder and more distinct and she shrunk back even further into the darkness, desperately trying to become one with the shadows. The bird let out another weak call, briefly drawing her attention away from her own fate. What would the knights do to the little bird currently cupped in her hands?

  Even as she asked herself the question, she already knew the answer. They’d kill it. And they’d do it without blinking an eye or feeling one grain of guilt or remorse for taking a life, especially such a small and helpless one. What was the life of a bird compared to the number of times they’d nearly taken her life?

  Kathryn couldn’t let that happen. She would protect the baby bird for the simple reason that no one else in the kingdom would. Voices startled her out of her silent resolve. Angry with herself for letting them get so close without seeking more substantial shelter, Kathryn quickly slipped further into the darkness surrounding the meadow.

  Every instinct told her to run, but curiosity won. How had Lady Blackwood managed to order her guards into the forest? Kathryn had never seen anyone venture close to the forest let alone travel into it. Once she had seen Lord Blackwood order a small contingent of knights into the forest to apprehend a thief and every one of the knights had refused to breach the evergreen walls that protected the errant bandit.

  As the sounds grew even closer, Kathryn cocked her head and listened closely. She could hear the sounds of horse’s hooves, the jangling of saddles and bridles, and the sound of men conversing with one another. What she did not hear was the sound of armor. That could only mean that these men weren’t knights, but it didn’t necessarily mean that they weren’t from the manor. Archers and lowly men-at-arms did not wear any metal armor or chainmail but instead were issued heavily padded clothes.

  She waited, curious to see whom Lady Blackwood had sent.

  Finally they stepped into view…and Kathryn found herself exhaling in relief. There was no way in the kingdom that the travelers were from Blackwood Manor.

  Kathryn had never seen adults like the ones who stood before her. There were three men and a woman. All four wore masks that obscured their facial features. Could they be bandits? The first man was tall with hair the color of the sky on a night when the moons were black, the second man was shorter and had hair the color of fire, the third had hair the color of copper cooking pots and was the shortest of all, half the size of the first, reaching only to his waist. But it was the woman who enchanted Kathryn. She was tall and slim, with hair almost equal to the ebony color of Kathryn’s, and skin like newly fallen snow. Their clothing was colored in various shades of green, but the cut was unlike anything Kathryn was familiar with. The men wore shirts that had baggy sleeves and their tunic reached to their knees. The woman wore a dress that was slit in three places up to her knees. Underneath she wore leggings the same color as her dress. All four wore knee-length boots. On the front of each of the men’s shirts and on the woman’s bodice was an emblem. Too far away to make out the details, Kathryn could see what looked like the vague outline of a dead tree embroidered into their clothing.

  Kathryn watched as the group began to walk around the clearing, talking amongst themselves, moving around as if they were looking for something. As they walked around they took off their masks. A few of them wandered past her hiding place and Kathryn was able to study their features. The men had the same look that many of the knights at Blackwood Manor had, a careworn but stony face that told Kathryn that they were extremely dangerous. These were no strangers to killing. Even more surprising was that the woman wore the same expression, only more forlorn as if she regretted all the people she’d killed in her lifetime.

  As her eyes scanned the entirety of the meadow a third time Kathryn observed what she thought was a shrub in the middle of the glade.Strange,she thought with a frown. There wasn’t a bush there before. As she stared at the bush she began to notice a sound— a deep guttural moan. Before her eyes, the shrub she had been studying began to grow…and grow…its stem reaching upwards towards the sun, growing thicker with every minute, the silk-thin skin twisting and cracking into rough bark. Fragile saplings grew into sturdy limbs as a fully mature evergreen tree grew high enough to provide shade from the sun. The group began to unpack saddle bags, spreading out items on a blanket that had been placed in the shade of the new tree. Kathryn stifled a gasp and stepped further back into the shadows, the low hanging branches completely obscured her view into the meadow, but also protected her from prying eyes.

  These were outcasts—magic workers. The ones who could kill with merely a thought, the ones banished from the rest of the kingdom because they were dangerous. Steeped in the black arts, the outcasts were often possessed by spirits who enjoyed creating pain and suffering. It was said that they were the descendants of the Wanderers.

  Turning Kathryn hurried back to her waterfall. Staying low and carefully retracing her previous route to her hideaway, she finally arrived at her destination and sat
down on the nearest rock. She had never actually seen an outcast before and something about them both comforted and frightened her. Her mistress had told her horror stories of what they were capable of and what they did. The stories were enough to terrify any child but to Kathryn they held a deeper threat. She could become an outcast.

  Years ago she had found she could move water just by thinking about it. When the Lady of Blackwood Manor had discovered Kathryn’s previously dormant talent, her mistress had flown into such a rage that Kathryn had yet to witness another like it. Finally it had been explained to Kathryn what such a curse meant. Those who were cursed were banished from the kingdom, those who were foolish enough to return risked certain death. The Guardians protected the kingdom from the cursed and the Wanderers and those who faced a Guardian were rarely heard from again. Kathryn’s very life was in danger if anyone found out. Both the Lord and Lady of the manor had made Kathryn promise never to attempt to move water again. It would bring the curse down harder, they explained.

  For years Kathryn had kept her promise, but now, for the first time since she promised Lady Blackwood, she felt an irresistible urge to try again. She paused. What harm was there in making a tree grow or water move? As she debated in her mind, the urge grew stronger until it couldn’t be ignored. Reaching out with her mind Kathryn tried again.

  Staring at the water she tried to make it ripple in the collecting pool. It remained calm. She tried again, concentrating harder this time, the water still remained calm. Taking a deep breath Kathryn cleared her mind of all the warnings and commands Lady Blackwood had given her and imagined the water rippling before her in tiny waves to the sandy shore. Slowly, as if being persuaded to move drop by drop, the water began to move in gentle waves. Elated at the small victory, Kathryn imagined a small splash forming in the middle of the pool. It took a few tries, but she eventually managed to get a small splash to dance around the water. As she played, Kathryn found that it became easier and easier to get the water to do what she imagined.