The Seasons of Salt

Chapter Nineteen

Cerissa always liked cramming in the big carriage that they only ever got out when they went travelling. Ma found it a chore, travelling, but Da always kept them entertained with stories and things and when he’d had enough of that, they stared out of the windows at the Bridgenford countryside joggling past and that was right grand too. The world was so pretty, and she only ever saw such a little of it. The marshes  hummed and buzzed with crickets and burrowing toads and marshfishers, the reeds swayed at them as they passed like happily waving fingers, the mosses grew thick, green and lush through the wetlands and the willows kissed the water with their budding branches. 

I will never live anywhere but here, no matter what Ma thinks on it. I belong here. I'll not be marrying some other Large Lord from some other county, and have to leave my heart behind. 

They’d hitched up the horses early this morning and the mares had headbutted her affectionately as she walked past, straining to get out of the halters so that they could nuzzle her hair. She'd always liked the horses, of course, and they always liked her, too, but they seemed especially affectionate lately. They'd been straining to get close to her, as if they couldn't bear not to be in the same space as her. The groom had been mighty cross with them, but they had settled once she was squashed into the carriage, wedged between Sy on one side and Jonn on the other. She had her doll, Captain Bess, in her lap and Sy had his, Lord Sylas the Great (Ma had made it for him when he was born and he still played with him even now he was a big boy) but Jonnah had not wanted to bring anything with him for the journey. Ten was too old for toys, mayhap. Da would not let him bring a book – they were too expensive and belonged in the library – but he had let Jonnah bring an old scroll or two and Jonnah made himself sick looking over them as they joggled over the roads, until he went so grey in the face that Da took them off him by force and said he could have them back when they stopped for the night.

They were going south today, which was odd. Usually they only went visiting to neighbour houses or up to see Auntie, every other year. They were trundling down through the length of Bridgenford, the longest and biggest of the counties, and then across to the west to Holdfast and the Peninsula right across the long causeway that got flooded twice a day. Sylas said if they did not cross it quick enough their carriage would sink right down to the Salt Seas and they’d all have to swim. Cerissa was a good swimmer, she was not worried on it.

The new king was going to be there and Da said he had had a new crown made him and all, so as not to keep the taint of the Ferris crown. And there was going to be the grandest party the peninsula had ever seen and all the Houses from all the counties were invited. Da didn't really want to go, but he didn't have a choice. He said all the Large Lords had been summoned to pledge their fealty to the new king, and the Big Bear would be paying attention to those that did not attend, especially from the Borderlands. All folks knew that the Borderlands made or broke the country. The king might thought he ruled the counties, but he couldn't do so without the Borderlands' support, and he knew it. Ma had told Da to hold his tongue, and she had said sharply to all her children that they were not to go repeating any of this, that folks could get in trouble with loose tongues in the capital, but Da had only laughed. Said it was no secret to say what all folks knew. 

Ma had been fussing and fidgeting a lot at Cerissa lately, lest she forget her manners and shame them all, but Da said that she could go to the ceremony, and she was to make sure she danced nicely with all the boys who asked her, only she was not to go accepting any marriage offers from smitten suitors without asking him first. He had said it in his best stern, bearish way, but she knew he was joking. She was not going to marry anyone.

 They travelled quick, even with all the fords and bridges they had to cross. Cerissa longed to get out and ride, but Da said they were travelling too quick to allow for it so they had to keep squashed up in the uncomfortable carriage all day and they were all getting fractious with each other by day's end. 

They stopped on the road at a vassal house, the Henkin's, and Ma said she had to play the good guest and be witty and amusing even though she was right tired and wanted nothing more than to sleep. Ma'd said it was an honour for the Henkins to have them stay the night, for the Henkins were the smallest of the Lesser Lords of Bridgenford, and it was her duty to repay their loyalty with kindness and good manners. So she had to stay up and sit up at the high table the Henkins had crammed into their little hall, and Lesser Lord Henkin had even asked her to sing for them all, so she had had to dredge a tune out of her mind to entertain them. The only one she could think of was the Ballad of Baraba, and Ma had gone all tight-lipped and pink-faced when Cerissa had sung it for them, and Da had bellowed out his big bear laugh. 

"That song is not suitable for a young lady," hissed Ma at her when she had taken her seat again. "You should not even be listening to it, much less repeating it."

But Cissa had always liked the story of the young maid who dressed up like a man to turn river pirate. It had a sad enough ending, true, but Baraba had been the captain of a fleet before she was caught and drowned on the gate. It didn't seem so inappropriate to her. 

The Henkins kept their hunting dogs loose in the Great Hall, and they kept on coming snuffling up to her and Sylas, pushing their cold noses hard into her hands under the table until she fed them scraps of dinner. She decided she liked those dogs best of all the Henkins' household. Far better than Lesser Lord Henkin himself, who was a weasley looking man with watery eyes, or his chinless eldest son, Pobbet, whose hands were so clammy when she had to dance with him. 

They had been allowed to go to bed after that. Cissa had had to share a bed with the Henkins' daughters, Polly and Pippi, another honour for the Henkins apparently. The girls were a little older than she was and they giggled a lot, and asked her a lot of questions about Jonnah which confused and frustrated her when she was only trying to sleep. She longed for Sy instead. He knew how to share a bed without taking all the covers, or spreading his legs out to take up half the mattress, or plundering her sleepy silence with too many questions. 

Sy had not been back to her for a while now, though. Not since Da had come home. She didn't know if that meant the nightmares had stopped, or whether he just didn't want to talk to her about them anymore. She frowned sleepily in the darkness. She didn't have much chance to talk to him about it now, either. Everything had been so busy and confusing of late.

She turned over on the mattress, facing the wall, away from the giggling girls. After the ceremony, she decided. When we''re back home at last and everything has settled down once more, I'll sort it all out then. 

After all, what else were big sisters for?