Read The Mapmaker's War Online

Authors: Ronlyn Domingue

Tags: #General Fiction

The Mapmaker's War (3 page)

Be careful of your brother, Wyl. I know this wasn't your doing, you said.

I wanted to hunt today as well, said he.

Raef hunts what secretly reminds him of himself.

He isn't so swift and strong.

That's not what I meant.

Say what you mean, then.

He is cold and weak.

Wyl took hold of your cloak and halted your steps.

What am I? asked he.

A man of good intention, nature, and cheer.

What are you?

A mapmaker, and a subject.

He took your hands and smeared the blood. He found no wound but touched something carnal and raw between the two of you.

What could be, if it were, would come to a dark end, you said. | spoke it into being then, didn't you? |

Aoife, even you can't see that far in the distance, said he.

You turned your head when you heard Raef call out. His bloody hands hovered at his sides. Wyl waved to him, and Raef stood in wait. Wyl took your stained hand and pressed it to his chest. Your palm filled with the heat of the chase, his shirt, your will. All of it pulled away from your grasp as he left to join his brother.

THE KING ORDERED YOU TO THE NORTHERN BORDER WHERE THE LAND met a wide river. You were told to map as far as you could see on the opposite bank. It was said there was a kingdom on the other shore, but little was known about the people. The King had sent messengers to deliver peaceful invitations, but the watchmen who received the notes only nodded, and no replies came. In his wisdom, the King thought it best to leave the unknown people to their own. For now, he only wanted to know where their fortifications were in relation to his.

You dreamed of a sturdy vessel with a perch to see afar. Wyl found boatbuilders to bend and seal it, bow to stern. The boat still firmly ashore, you traced the dry joints, shook the solid anchors, and climbed the lofty perch. Wyl stood back with crossed arms and tousled chestnut hair. You knew he'd come to see the launch of another good deed done. He would see you away once again, perhaps for the last time.

The night before the maiden voyage, you and Wyl scaled the perch's narrow rungs and sat with legs afloat in the air. You both were in plain sight but in private space. He hadn't spoken again of the announcement he had given you when he arrived. Wyl was intended for another. A matter of alliance rather than the heart. The promise would be sealed the spring after the next.

Ask and you'll have it, said he.

As ever, as always, you said.

Ask, Aoife, whatever it may be.

Can you forgive and forget what I'm about to do?

Then for the first time you kissed him, full under a new moon.

Uncalled-for. What were you thinking? You weren't. You owed him nothing, but his gift was an excuse for the impulse. You had no illusions that he would, or could, choose you over his intended.

Tell the truth.

You desired him. His features pleased you, the rest of him as much. In moments when your concentration lapsed, you caught yourself thinking of him. What he said to you at the plane table. How he moved with square-shouldered confidence. The way he held himself on a horse.

The next morning, you climbed to the highest point on the new boat. You waved goodbye to the boatbuilders, most of your land crew, and Wyl. You felt a rip in your chest as they walked away from the kingdom's shore. Wyl turned to look back once more. Even deep wounds heal, you thought. No matter the cause.

You journeyed out into the seam between winter and spring.

You peered beyond the bare trees for hints of secret forts. It had been said that the other bank had none. So it was that nothing was encountered but animal rustles and rumps, no person or dwelling, for several months. By late summer your hair had turned from bronze to gold. Your curiosity about what lay beyond the river bends turned to daydreams.

When you could resist the mystery no longer, you asked the crew to take the boat to land. They stood in their places with wide, wondering eyes, looking past the bank and into the forest. Birds chirped, clouds moved, water lapped. Then an oarsman cried, Ashore, ashore, men and my lady! Men ashore!

Five young men in blue coats approached the bank and stood in a line. The third raised his hand slowly with his palm toward you, high above his head. You looked down from the perch, and the crew looked at each other. The crew raised their hands, then the other four men gestured in turn. The third man stepped near the boat. You could hear faint voices. Your crew captain shouted and waved his hand to call you down.

You studied the five men in your descent. Blue coats, white belts, flaxen leggings, tanned shoes. Hair long at the crown, swept back, cropped at the skull. Not one seemed to carry a sword, dagger, spear, or club. The third man met your eyes when you stood in front of him and nodded.

Come, said the man in your language.

They refuse to take one of us men, said the captain.

No harm, said the man.

My lady, I advise you to stay. I told them we would leave, said the captain.

You smiled at the captain, who looked unafraid but unnerved. This was an invitation you couldn't resist. You accepted the man's hand as you leapt ashore. He gestured a rectangle. The captain explained they wanted to see the maps, which he didn't want to release. You asked him to gather a selection of drafts. He complied. You noticed the crew had twitches and fidgets. You urged them not to worry and above all to be calm.

Three of the young men in blue stayed near the bank. You walked beside the third man, who gave no name or title but seemed to be their leader. The last man fell in step at the leader's side. They spoke with rich voices in a language you'd never heard. You noticed they were younger than you, barely out of boyhood. You wondered what kind of kingdom would post sentries without weapons. Fools or innocents, you thought.

The two men appeared to utter goodbyes. The leader's companion began to run ahead through the trees. The leader stood still and faced you. Your body tensed. You clutched the maps. When your eyes met, the young man told you there was no danger but explained nothing. He put his hand on his chest and breathed deeply. He lifted his brows, tapped his chest, and breathed again. You smiled and returned the gesture. When you laughed, he laughed, too. You both continued on the long, mysterious walk.

The direction you traveled led you to a large rock. Its placement had to be deliberate, a marker of some kind. He touched it as you walked past.

Then in the distance, a subtle glow rose from the ground and met the sunlight. Your footing felt a shift. You looked down. The forest floor had merged into a road paved with gold. At your toes was the wisdom of the bees, a pattern of honeycomb the length and width of the path. The leader kept his pace, which you tried to keep until you could stand it no longer. You tugged his sleeve and begged him to slow down. He replied with a smile meant for a child.

You and the young man followed a straight road. On either side of it, paths turned off left and right. The houses were sturdy and square, with clay brick walls painted in muted colors and pitched roofs layered thick with thatch. All faced the heat of the sun and had garden entrances, some with herbs and flowers, some with small trees and shrubs. Now and then the land lay open and green, sometimes with a fence, sometimes without, where children and animals ran and leapt. There were sounds of work and play, voices speaking and voices singing. People who noticed you waved and smiled. Step after step fell to gold.

Too soon, you came to the center of the hidden village. Graceful trees shaded glare from the road. You noticed a mechanism the likes of which you'd never seen. A great wheel decorated with inlays of metals and gold reflected chance glints of light. At its back, more wheels of all sizes with notched edges lay quiet against each other. Nearby was a well with a peaked silver roof and solid stone surround.

The leader escorted you into a house longer than any of the others. It had large windows draped in gauzy linen and floors paved with stone. He seated you in a high-backed chair with soft cushions and gestured that you should stay.

He took a mug from a nearby table and went outside. You watched him offer his finger to a little boy, who climbed a small arch of steps built into the well's side. They peered over the edge together as the leader pulled the bucket's rope. He let the child dip the mug and rub a cloth on its side. The little boy accepted help down the steps and followed the leader back to the building. The child paused at the doorway.

You waved to the boy, who returned the gesture with a smile and a phrase spoken in melody, like a bird's song. Then he was gone. Your eyes suddenly filled with tears. Your throat tightened. The leader moved a bowl of fruit, nuts, and hard cheese to a table next to you and placed the mug in your hand. You clasped his fingers. It was a bold gesture. Spontaneous. You did not touch strange men. He let you hold as long as you wished, knelt at your side as you did. Not a word passed between you.

Three people entered the room from an interior door. You released the young man's hand and stood before them. There was a man and a woman, much older than you, wearing linen clothes with beautiful designs at the cuffs and necks and hair streaked with white and silver. The woman wore a headband and the man wore a wristband made of the same blue cloth as the leader's tunic. The third was a woman near your age, who wore a blue skirt, fitted green blouse, and gold pendant at her neck.

Welcome to our settlement. How could we give you more comfort? asked the young woman in your native language.

You found yourself unable to speak, so you bowed first, then shook your head.

Your guardian will wait outside until we've ended our talk.

You nodded.

The three pulled chairs away from a nearby table and circled you. The young woman gave their names. You managed to say your own. The young woman explained that she was fluent in your language and was there to help the other two, who could speak only phrases. The older man and woman were elders who came to the house to understand the reason for your visit.

You told the truth. You said you had been sent by your king to map the riverbanks and mark any fortifications. The three nodded. The man asked to see your charts. The three peered from different angles at what he held. The woman asked who had drawn them, and you said it was you. The three nodded. You realized that the young woman spoke your language with no accent, as if she herself were from your kingdom.

You learned that these people had lived in their settlement for hundreds of years and meant no harm to anyone. Their ways were different, unusual to many, and it was best that encounters were made like hers, by chance, without malice. Their ways were older than your kingdom, than any known to recent memory. They wished to have their peace, and their peace they would gladly share. You assured them that you, your crew, and your king had no ill intents. The three sat in silence.

What do you think? asked the man.

She tells the truth as she knows it, said the woman.

They were silent again, until?

What do you feel? asked the woman.

She will protect us, said the man.

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