Chapter 5

The clouds rolled rapidly across the sky. Miriam knew that the rain would catch them sometimes before nightfall. She cast one last worried look over her shoulder at the house. Adrian said that he will send people to move the rest of the boxes later. They had minimized their luggage so that they could travel quickly. Miriam carried useful herbs and three books on common diseases, herbs, and remedy recipes in her saddle bag. They left most of their clothes behind at Adrian's order. Once they reach Pelicana, they would have new clothes made.

Miriam helped her father climb up the carriage with her uninjured left arm. She took a quilt from Adrian and tucked it around her father. At her command, Max leaped into the carriage as well. He paced in a circle three times before curling up under Isaac's feet. He sighed contently and rested his furry head on his front legs. Adrian shut the door carefully. Jordan conversed with the coachman. Before Miriam could protest, Adrian picked her by the waist and placed her on the saddle. She glared at him indignantly while he sent her an innocent smile. Jerking on the reins, she guided the horse away from him.

"We need to stop at Triten," she said coldly. "I need to make sure the animals will be taken care of."

"We cannot dally for long," he replied as he swung his leg across his own saddle. "But we will stop if you must."

Miriam and Adrian rode ahead of the carriage. Miriam resolutely ignored Adrian's presence, keeping her eyes firmly glued to the path. Adrian ignored her ignoring him. When he started whistling, Miriam gritted her teeth until her jaw hurt. The wheat fields were on the left and the forest on the right as they rode. Heavy gusts of wind ripped through the trees, moving their limbs in an uncoordinated dance. Shadows splattered across the landscape, constantly moving. Sparse beams of weak sunlight broke through the clouds, then were swallowed up again. Miriam shivered despite her warm cloak. The air was thick with a sense of urgency.

As the first cottage came into view, Adrian saw two girls in the garden picking fruits and vegetables hastily, hoping to rescue them from the storm. The baskets lay at their feet, already brimming. As they approach the house, a small boy ran to the side of the road. His unruly carrot-colored hair stuck out from all directions. His ruddy cheeks were dirty, but his eyes lit up and his smile was bright.

"Miriam! Are you coming in for a visit?" he shouted joyously.

Miriam waved and returned the smile. She shouted back, "no, I'm going to the city. How is your mother doing?"

"She was up yesterday. She wanted me to tell you that she is feeling better."

"Good! Tell your mother to rest well. Ask after her for me, will you?"

"I will! When you come back, can you make me a ball again? I lost mine in the forest." The boy's mouth turned down into a frown.

Miriam stopped her horse beside the boy. She dismounted despite Adrian's murmur of protest. Cupping the boy's cheeks in her hands, she met his eyes seriously and said, "I will."

His face broke into a smile, revealing a gap where a tooth used to be. He hugged her legs, and Miriam tousled his hair affectionately. She bent down and said to him, "Now run along. And be good to your mother and your sisters!"

He nodded, then ran back into the cottage. The girls in the garden gave Miriam a wave before going back to their tasks. Miriam watched them with a smile, then climbed onto the horse quickly. When they started moving again, Adrian asked, "Who are those people?"

Miriam's mouth was still curved in a small smile. She answered, "Harriet's husband passed away last year, and she has not been feeling well. Her children have been great though. They pulled together to take care of their mother."

Adrian glanced over his shoulder at the cottage that was disappearing fast. He shook his head at the thought of those children and their loss of childhood. He pursed his lips for awhile before finally deciding to ask her a question that had bogged down on his mind for quite some times.

"Where did you learn to use the sword?" he began. "It is not a common hobby for a girl."

Miriam frowned, "my father's friend taught it to me. He thought it would be useful for me to be able to defend myself."

She added dryly, "until you came, I had no need to use it against other human."

Adrian chuckled. He appreciated her honesty. As the King's First Counselor, he had encountered more than his share of sycophants. She was a refreshing change, a breath of air after prolonged suffocation. Miriam also had a sharp wit and humor which he enjoyed sparring with. He couldn't remember the last time that he had enjoyed female company so much. Tugging his thoughts back to her sword, he remembered how familiar her strokes had seemed. The memory was like an elusive shadow, escaping just when he was about to grasp it.

"Who is your swordmaster?" he asked.

"Uncle Collin..." she caught herself. "I mean, Swordmaster Collin Macky."

He stared at her, his eyes wide. Miriam didn't notice at first, but when she did, she looked at his expression curiously. Her head is tipped in question. Adrian shook himself out of his shock.

"What's wrong?" Miriam asked.

"Nothing. Wait, did you mean the Collin Macky? One of the King's most successful swordmaster and most prized warrior in all of Erythalian history? Collin Macky, who won a record number of battles on the battlefield? Collin Macky, who saved the King's life more than once?"

It was Miriam's turn to gap at him. He looked at her quizzically, his brows furrowed.

"You mean to tell me you didn't know?" he exclaimed incredulously.

"No... he's always just been Uncle Collin," Miriam said softly. She had no idea that her father's friend had accomplished so much serving under the King.

Not surprisingly, Collin never talked much about his former life as the King's soldier. Miriam was not born yet when he retired, and he saw no reason to tell either Ethan or Miriam about his past. As much as he liked his career serving the King, Collin enjoyed being a merchant even more. He taught both Ethan and Miriam what he knew of swords, which was plenty.

"That's why your strokes looked so familiar," Adrian mused. "My swordmaster William Vals and Swordmaster Macky studied with the same teacher, the legendary Alexander Duvalle."

Adrian proceeded in telling her stories of Collin and William while they were students. William had been wild in his youth, and would often steal out of the castle walls to find willing women and drink despite Swordmaster Duvalle's stern forbiddance. Collin, though reluctant, was inevitably drawn into his mischief. Once, William was returning after a night of debauchery. Collin had lowered a length of rope for William to climb back into the castle. However, William had trouble scaling the wall after one too many drinks. He fumbled and fell into the moat below, causing a big splash. Unfortunately, Swordmaster Duvalle slept directly above Collin and William's bedchamber. He heard the commotion and went to investigate. For their punishment, they were delegated nightly watch duty for a fortnight.

Miriam chuckled despite her determination to dislike Adrian. She couldn't help but ask, "well, did he stop his wicked ways?"

Adrian shook his head. "No, not until he met his wife."

Miriam laughed.

They reached Triten around midday. As they navigated through the streets, Miriam was greeted warmly by everyone. They shot suspicious looks towards Adrian and Jordan, but didn't say anything. Adrian released a sigh of relief when they finally reached Collin Macky's residence without any confrontations. It would be hard for two men to fight against a mob, however skilled they be. As far as he could tell, these people were willing to do Miriam's bidding.

Collin Macky's house was next to his general goods store. The porch of the store served as a site for the townsfolk to gather. Old folks played chess under the shade during the day. Men smoked pipes after dinner there and discussed business. Women watched their children play in the street while trading the latest recipes and gossips. The house itself was well-kept. The paint on the wall was fresh. The small garden in the front was meticulously organized, each plant in its appropriate space— no more, no less. There were pots of flowers hanging from the rim of the roof. The small porch had a rocking chair.