The fourteen archers who had ended the war set up a school so that those blessed with gifts could learn to use them as instruments of peace and justice. They became more famous throughout their lives as the stories of their exploits, both during and after the war, were told over and over again.
Fathers passed these stories on to their sons and grandsons and mothers to their daughters and granddaughters. And so it continued from one generation to another; history became stories, stories became legends, legends became myths, and myths became children’s tales. The Great War was all but forgotten and none could remember a time when Guardians had never existed.
The most inescapable prison we can ever find is our past.
The strongest chains,
Our Fears
The thickest walls,
Our Pride
The strongest bars,
Our Memories
The cruelest jailer,
Ourselves
~
Princess Maira of Rima
circa 2500 years before the Great War
Kathryn knew she was being disobedient but she didn’t care, her only goal was to escape from her master and mistress. After fulfilling her duties, she had left the two shouting at each other loud enough to wake the entire region of Rima. It was the second time this morning an argument had erupted between the Lord and Lady of Blackwood Manor and, Kathryn knew from bitter experience, that it wouldn’t be the last. There was a legend that said that a great and decisive battle of a two hundred year long war had been fought where Blackwood Manor now stood. If Lord and Lady Blackwood were any indication, the battle had never ceased to end. Some servants whispered that the land had been cursed, so that the fighting would never end.
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 he
r
appropriatel
y
. 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 dul
l
thu
d
, 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 years 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.