A Land of Will - pt II
1201 Words
Willand moved beside the stream of people entering the manor.
Carriages rolled through the archway. Servants with baskets of goods balanced on their heads passed while guards watched from either side.
Willand had to slip past the guards somehow.
After dismissing him from his work at the stables, Lady Mearith must have warned them about him. Which meant walking up and asking politely was no longer an option.
Willand slowed near the side of the road and watched, scanning the line.
A merchant’s cart. A carriage. A delivery wagon. All too crowded. Anything going in was always given more attention than anything coming out.
Maybe he could slip under a carriage—that was impractical. Maybe bribe somebody—all he had was one coin.
He adjusted the paper parcel of pastries under his arm.
Just then—
“Will!” A pair of voices called from behind him.
Will turned. And immediately grinned.
A supply wagon rolled toward the gates. Sitting at the front were two familiar figures—a girl leaning halfway over the side and a boy trying very hard to look like he was driving properly.
They waved when they saw him.
"Castor. Aida." Willand said their names under his breath with a smile that felt suspiciously close to relief.
The wagon slowed. Willand's eyes flicked briefly to the back—folded linens, kitchen sacks. Enough to hide someone if nobody looked too closely.
Aida bounced down before the wagon had fully stopped.
"It's so good to see you!" She hugged him. Then pulled away. "Where have you been?"
Castor climbed down more carefully. "Mother said you work at the forge now."
"Oh." Aida's face fell a little. "That's why."
Willand smiled. "Yeah." Then lightly— "But I thought I'd come see everyone today."
Aida brightened immediately. "That's nice."
Castor narrowed his eyes, then sniffed. His head turned.
"What's that smell?" He sniffed again. Aida copied him. Then both of them looked at Willand.
Her eyes widened.
"...Tsami's?"
Willand remembered the parcel. For a moment, he thought of Harmon, his little nephew. Then looked at the wagon. Eventually, he pulled the wrapped parcel of pastries from under his arm.
As soon as they saw it, both children straightened.
"Would either of you happen to want honey buns?"
They nodded at once. Far too quickly.
Willand smiled. “I need your help.”
The wagon rolled deeper into the manor until it reached the quieter side of the estate where linens and kitchen goods were usually unloaded.
It slowed. Then stopped.
Willand waited. A second later, Aida appeared over the edge of the wagon.
“The coast is clear.”
Castor appeared beside her with a mouth full of pastries. He squinted at her. “You don’t know what that means.”
Willand climbed out. He bowed. “My deepest gratitude.”
Aida smiled proudly and waved as the wagon rolled further away.
Willand adjusted his jacket, then started walking, casually keeping his hand around his face to stop anyone from recognizing him.
He went through roads he already knew, hiding from cooks, cleaners and stable boys leading away horses. Eventually, his feet carried him near the garden.
He stopped behind a hedge and watched from the distance.
The whole garden was fenced round with hedges as thick as the length of a man’s arms. One could not see over it except they climbed up a tall tree—and the gardeners made sure no trees near the garden was tall enough.
Willand watched as servants passed sparsely. Then suddenly, movement caught his eye.
Three small figures rounded the corner.
The triplets.
They were carrying something. A large box with a bow tied neatly over the top. Large enough to look heavy—but from how easily they moved with it, it clearly wasn’t.
Peony led. Darnell pushed. Elara kept glancing around nervously. They were trying not to be seen.
Willand watched them for a moment. Then quietly—
“Psst.”
Nothing.
“Elara.”
Elara froze. She let go immediately, causing the box to tip. Peony stumbled. Darnell lost balance. And the box fell over.
Elara looked up. Her eyes widened. “Will!”
She ran to him. Willand smiled and caught her automatically. He quickly glanced around, worried that someone might have heard.
Elara squeezed him tightly with her tiny arms. “You’re back.”
Willand laughed quietly.
Darnell and Peony managed to carry the box over. A moment later all three had attached themselves to him. And suddenly, Willand forgot to worry.
Elara looked up. “I’m so happy to see you.”
Darnell nodded. “Me too.”
Willand smiled. “I missed all of you too.”
Peony pulled back, then frowned. “Why are you hiding behind a bush like a creep?”
Willand’s smile disappeared. He looked at her. Then smiled again. “Especially you, Peony.”
She grinned.
Willand nodded toward the box. “What are you three doing?”
Darnell answered immediately. “We’re taking Chalice’s dress to the farm to rub dung on it.”
Peony turned. “You i***t!”
Darnell blinked. “What?”
“You’re not supposed to tell people.”
Elara looked uncomfortable. “I don’t think it’s a good idea…”
Peony turned to her. “We’re trying to help. If you don’t want to, you can go inside.”
Elara pouted, causing Willand to step in.
“Hey. Hey.” The three looked at him. He glanced at the box. “Now why in the world would you want to rub dung on your sister’s dress?”
Peony folded her arms. “It’s the dress she’s supposed to wear to see the man who’ll take her away.”
Darnell nodded. “We don’t want her to go.”
Willand looked at them, thoughtful. Then at the box. And finally at Elara.
“I don’t know, Elara,” he said kindly. “It sounds like a pretty good idea.”
Peony looked at Elara triumphantly. Elara looked away. Willand smiled and pinched her cheek to cheer her up.
He looked over to the box. “Come here.”
He untied the bow, retied it around the box, turning it into a long pull and handed it to Darnell. “There.”
Darnell’s eyes widened. “Oh.”
Willand smiled. “Now you can drag it.”
Darnell immediately started pulling and Elara climbed onto the box. Peony followed behind with a huge smile.
“Peony.”
She stopped and turned. Willand gestured for her to come. She ran back.
Willand lowered his voice. “Where’s your big sister?”
Peony pointed. “In the garden.”
Willand nodded, then reached into his bag. His fingers brushed his mother’s medicine—then the smaller vial. He took it out and held it up between them.
Peony frowned.
Willand looked at her. “I need you to give this to Chalice.”
Peony stared at the vial, then at Willand. Curious.
The entire day—
No.
The entire month—
had boiled down to this moment for Willand.
If Chalice refused—he thought, with startling calm—his life might already be over.
- Writer
