Chapter 68 – Coming Home

Wherein Rose comes home, Valentina is welcomed, and Bosra’s knight returns.

Rose and Valentina took the exit at Risban. Valentina was no longer disoriented by the sudden loss of propulsion, though she did stumble a few steps.

With their stone bases, whitewashed panelling, and red clay roof tiles, the houses in Risban looked different from the previous two towns the women had spent the night in, though their general shape was roughly the same.

They found the inn on the town square, next to the town-speaker’s house and the temple. Blackstone Castle was a dark tower in the background. The Crooked Tail’s doors stood ajar, inviting weary travellers to enter and repose.

Valentina was so focussed on today’s destination that she jumped when a goat bleated much closer than she expected. She looked down at the brown creature with its slitted yellow eyes. It bleated again and started nibbling on her coat slip.

"Tssk." Rose shoo’d the goat away. "You didn’t freak out this time."

"Well… It was rather friendly." At least it hadn’t jumped on her, as the goat in the first inn had done two nights ago.

"Come on, let’s get a room for the night." Rose entered the Crooked Tail, nearly a year after her previous visit, on the night she had met Bosra. What had seemed an accident then, now appeared to have been providence. Without the Highlander, Rose wouldn’t have had the courage to actually go to Splendor. And though she was happy to leave the city behind her, the time she spent there had not been wasted.

Valentina followed Rose inside. "From here on out we will have to take the country roads, right?"

"Yeah. We’ll ask around, see if we can hitch a ride on a cart." It was going to be a tough walk to Pinnacle otherwise. As soon as she had stepped off the King’s Road, Rose had felt the full weight of her overstuffed duffle.

"Great," Valentina groaned, dropping her own bag at an empty table for four.

"If nobody’s going our way, we can rent a buggy."

"Great." Valentina did not want to walk for three days without the magic of the King’s Road.

Rose grinned. "Who’s a pretty princess?"

"Oh shush!" Valentina sat down and rested her head on the table. She had not slept well any of the two nights she had slept in rented beds. "Please arrange dinner and lodging for the night, Miss Rose."

"At your service, ma’am," Rose drawled cheerfully. She set her luggage down and saw the publican about necessities.

The food was great. The beer palpable. Valentina ordered wine and was sorely disappointed by the taste.

Rose got up on stage as the common-room filled with people. She introduced herself with a sweet smile and played a popular ditty. Now that she had everyone’s attention, she asked for a ride. A farmer – in town to trade – didn’t mind taking two women and their bags along for a day’s journey.

Just after noon on the third day of slow travel, the women arrived in Pinnacle, stepping off a cart in the village square.

"Thanks for the ride." Rose took her bags and instrument cases from the bed of the cart.

"See you around, Rose." The father-son pair of drivers waved and drove off.

Rose looked around. Nothing had changed, not the wood-carved statue of the town-speaker in the centre, not the banners flanking the temple doors, not the weathervane on the bell tower.

Somehow, she had expected it would have changed, just as she had.

"What now?" Valentina leaned on the alto-violin case. "We wait for dinner time and try to hitch another ride?"

While they could do that, Rose had other plans. "Now we walk."

Feet kicked up ruddy dust as they walked the last stretch. Valentina lamented in silence. She was thirsty, hungry, and exhausted. Though it was obvious how the Fairfields got their name, she couldn’t enjoy the view right now.

Unlike Rose, who whistled and became more springy with every step she took, despite her heavy load.

"Are we there yet?" Valentina asked at the top of a small rise.

"Yep." Rose pointed to a collection of white-sided buildings with red-tiled roofs. Pigs were pink and grey dots out in their pens. Cows were larger blobs out in their field. Sheets hung out to dry in the yard.

"Is that your family home?" Valentina asked. The farm looked like a toy diorama from this distance.

"Yeah. Come on. Mom will have apple-pie and my brothers will help us get our bags up to the bedroom we’ll share with my sister."

Rose ran down the hill, leaving Valentina to rush after her. Halfway down, they met two boys on bay geldings. It was a wonder their elated shouting didn’t spook the horses.

Rose dropped everything and ran their way, heedless of the charging horses. The boys dropped from the bare backs at the same time, hugging their sister tightly as the horses galloped on.

Valentina stayed in the middle of the road, hugging her purse to her chest. Eyes closed, she prayed the horses would leave her unscathed.

A soft nose gently breathing on her face had her look up. Carefully, she patted the bay’s hairy cheek. The horse dropped his head. Valentina continued to scratch behind his ear, as the second horse butted in for some loving too.

"C’mon," the oldest boy said, walking up to his mount beside Rose. "We’ll help you get everything home." He took the reins, took a lock of black mane in his hand and jumped back onto the horse’s bare back.

"Who’d you bring, anyway?" he asked, extending a hand to the pretty blonde stranger.  

"Valentina of Effyne." Noticing her name did nothing for the boy, who was older than she had thought at first glance, she continued: "Rose’s friend."

His face lit up. He wiggled his hand. "Climb up."

"I…" Before she could finish her thought, the other brother had booted her up. Seated behind the first brother, Valentina had just enough time to grab onto his side before the horse turned.

"Don’t worry, Tina," Rose called. "He won’t let you fall!"

The younger brother mounted his horse with a practiced jump and held out a hand to Rose. She gave him two instrument cases to hold before she hoisted herself up behind him. It took some finagling to be able to hold on to everything as they rode to the farm.

A woman who could only be Rose’s mom, dressed in a simple linen dress, her hair done up in a messy bun, rushed down the porch as soon as the boys halted the horses. She enveloped Rose in a crushing hug as soon as the younger woman’s feet touched the ground.

Rose reciprocated. She buried her face in her mother’s shoulder and inhaled the familiar scents of lavender, linen and sunshine. For a moment, the world retracted to encompass only the two of them.

"Ma, this is Valentina, the friend I wrote about." Rose let go of her mother and turned to face her friend. "Tina, this is my ma."

"Hello Mrs Cerdos," Valentina greeted, suddenly shy. The older brother dismounted and caught her in his arms as she let herself slide down.

Rose’s mom pulled Valentina into a tight hug. "Welcome, sweetheart. Welcome home."

Bosra missed her friends. She mentally tracked their progress through the wold-sea. Six days had passed since they left. Rose and Valentina should be in Pinnacle by now, if not already on the Cerdos farmstead.

The Highlander didn’t have time to lament, as the livestock kept her busy. The highlight of every day was working with Beast. The pure sovereign breed had matured a little. He still chased everything that moved – especially when he was bored – but he let himself be directed now, and they both enjoyed riding out at the end of each day.

"Your knight’s gonna return soon." She rubbed the black stallion’s neck from her place in his saddle. Beast snorted and shook his head.

"He is, you’ll see."

The horse pawed the ground, earning him a stern ‘tssk’. Bosra gave a short tug on his reins when he continued. Scouting the countryside, she found what she had been looking for. A column of riders coming to Splendor on the King’s Road.

Ilyas, son of Azat, was not among the first group of soldiers to arrive at the gates, nor among the second. Beast was too bored to wait out the arrival of more troops, and so she rode through the city gates with the road-weary soldiers.

She awaited Ilyas return at home, Beast safely stabled below.

Three days later, she was at work with a pair of dire-goats, when movement by the fence drew her attention. A familiar knight in dented armour hoisted himself up to look over the top rail.

She was happy to see him. Happier still that he looked to be in one piece. She lifted a hand in greeting. Abandoning the goats’ training for now, she walked up to Ilyas. They were of a height now, with him on the railing.

"Kept your horse."

"It has been noted. The brute charged his stable door as I appraised him." Ilyas sounded as prim as always.

Bosra snorted, amused. "He was jesting."

"Thou wilt have to replace the crossbeam. He surely was not jesting."

A grin spread over Bosra’s face. "Happens twice a week. Keeps the black smith and carpenter in a job."

Ilyas shook his head. The deep sadness temporarily leaving his gaze. "It is good to lay eyes upon thy form once again, Bosra of the Golden Bow."

"Same, Ilyas, son of Azat."

He breathed deeply. For a moment, it seemed he was going to say more. For a moment, Bosra wanted him to. 

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