Chosen: Book 1 in the Dragon Queen series
18 – The Edge of the Kingdom

An hour after dawn, we found our first sign of civilisation. A wooden pier jutted into the river, and a cart track ran clearly away from it into the trees. And a road would lead somewhere. After a few minutes’ walking, we caught sight of roofs through the trees, smoke twisting into the air from domestic fires.

“Just as I feared we might starve before we reached home,” Brunna joked.

My mood lifted, too. I just hoped the place would prove big enough for a store or a market, somewhere we could barter work for food. And that it didn’t house any mages – or hunters. Before we reached the village, I tugged my collar higher to cover my damaged throat.

The road widened as the village came into sight. The settlement had clearly grown up around the sawmill built off to one side. Closer to us, houses lined the street. A few chickens scratched at the ground and I saw a tethered goat venture as far as it could reach to get a look at us as we approached.

It was blissfully normal after our adventures being mugged, drugged, and tortured by Muirland City’s mages and then walking into the mountains to meet sneering fae and savage hunters. The village was quiet, with a rumble of background noise coming from the sawmill – conversation, even a voice raised in song amongst the grind of the saws. I hoped the occupation of the villagers was a good sign. If they were busy working from dawn to dusk…

“There.” Brunna pointed to one of the buildings. A wooden loaf sign hung from the eaves. The village bakery.

Chickens scattered as we hurried towards it.

The heat struck us as we stepped through the door, the warmth of the ovens at the back of the building radiating towards the street. The floor creaked and a red-faced man stepped into sight; the baker, I presumed.

“Good morning and welcome,” he said with a smile. “Have you come for the best bread in Muirland?”

He was so cheerful, so normal, I couldn’t help smiling back. “We’re passing through.” Alerted by the delicious smells inside the warm room, my stomach rumbled loudly, Brunna’s belly adding a growl.

The baker laughed. “You’ve come to the right place.” He spread an arm to show the breads and pastries set out at his counter. “What can I get you?”

And now came the sticky moment. “We’ve no coin. Do you have any jobs we could do in exchange for a loaf?” I braced for refusal. This man didn’t know us. “We’re not afraid of hard work.”

He looked us up and down, arms folded. I tried to look useful and entirely trustworthy. His face split in another smile. He looked as though he didn’t know how to be angry or mean. “I’m sure I can replace something you can do.” He jerked his head at an oak bench that ran alongside the counter. “Sit down and we’ll discuss terms.”

Brunna and I scurried to do as we were told. He placed a spiced roll and a glass of milk before each of us. I stared at him.

“Eat up, then,” he chided. “I’ll get little work from starving workers.”

The roll was still warm from the oven, the goat’s milk tasty and refreshing. I tried to eat slowly, but it only took moments for both to vanish.

“There’ll be more when you’re done,” he promised, “Provided I’m pleased with your work.”

“You will be,” I assured him. Brunna nodded in eager agreement.

“For you, lass—” he addressed me first, “—it’s cleaning. You can scrub today’s pans while I take a break.” He switched his attention to Brunna. “You, boy – there’s always wood to be chopped.”

Brunna gulped down the last of her roll and nodded.

The huge bread oven in the back yard of the building had a deep sink built alongside it. It was a clever design, which meant the water heated while the bread baked. The metal trays he’d used for the day’s baking almost filled the sink. One had already been scrubbed and left to dry in the sun; I guessed we’d disturbed the work with our arrival. The baker pointed out the hard brush and block of salt used to ensure the pans were scoured clean, then he directed Brunna to the pile of wood. He vanished back into the bakery and left us to work.

I grabbed the brush and got to work, joined a moment later by thuds as Brunna began to chop the rounds of tree into more useable-sized pieces.

Three hours later, the baker returned. His smile widened when he saw the shining pans and the stack of wood. “You’ve done a good morning’s work. Come, pick what you want to take with you.”

I rolled my sleeves back down, fastening my cuffs as I followed him into the bakery. Much of the morning’s bake had been sold already, but he gave us free choice of the remainder. And he was generous.

We were wrapping up two loaves each, when a young boy ran into the bakery. “Grandpa, Grandpa, come see!”

“Now, now, where’s the fire?” the baker asked, wrapping an arm around the boy to hug him close.

“It’s a travelling show!”

“No!” The baker played along, exaggeratedly disbelieving. “Here? It’s impossible. No one comes to Wooddage.”

The boy shook his head, hopping from foot to foot. “It’s true, it’s true! They’re going to perform for us!”

“Well, that should be quite the sight.”

The boy tugged on his arm. “I’ll show you.”

We wrapped up our bread quickly and headed out after them.

Much of the village was still at work, but it seemed as though everyone left behind had assembled at the roadside as the brightly-coloured waggon rumbled into sight.

Brunna gripped my elbow. “Alliss.”

I nodded, my eyes widening as I took in the sight.

The horse pulling the cart slowed. The driver dropped the reins, while the figure beside her stood tall and threw his arms wide. “Good people of Wooddage, prepare to see the most remarkable show ever to grace the streets of Muirland!” He looked straight at Brunna and myself. “If you doubt our skills, just ask Brun and Alliss there – they’ve come all the way from Besserton to watch us!”

Col winked and jumped down from the waggon’s front board. He clapped my shoulder with a grin. “Fancy meeting you here!”

“Brun? Alliss?” Mim’s grinning head appeared around the back of the cart, craning to see. “Whatever are you doing here?”

I cleared my throat. The villagers were watching as though we were part of the entertainment. “It’s quite a long story.”

Col hugged our shoulders. “We love stories.” His tone held an invitation, but I wasn’t going to recount our adventures in front of everyone.

“What are you doing here?” I turned the question around.

“Business wasn’t good in Muirland City,” Col explained. “We decided to move on.” He glanced back at the wagon. “Rea thought we should go southwest immediately, but I said we should push on to the edge of the kingdom and let the people out in the wilds get the benefit of our show.” He spread his arms wide, performing for the curious villagers who currently made up his audience. “And it seems I was right.”

Mim had scrambled to the front of the wagon, plopping into the place beside Rea that Col had vacated. “This is as far as we go. We’ll turn back west tomorrow. We could take you up if you like.” Her eyes gleamed, as though she desperately wanted our company.

Brunna’s face lit up with anticipation. I spoke before she could make any promises. “I’m sorry, we were just leaving.” I turned slightly to indicate our parcels.

“Oh, but—” Brunna turned to me and lowered her voice. “Please, Alliss. I want to go with them.”

“How did your business fare in Muirland City?” Rea called, sparing me from Brunna’s pleas. She got down from the wagon and began to remove Oak’s harness. Most of the villagers drifted away, to make ready for the forthcoming treat. A few children gathered around to watch the preparations. “Are you still looking for a cure for your father?”

I shook my head. “No. I have one.” I decided not to mention the mages and the role of the fae.

“The city was a disaster.” Brunna was more open. “We were attacked, then a healer drugged us and handed us over to the mages. A dr—” I shifted my foot, pressing my weight onto Brunna’s to shut her up. “Ow!” she pulled away. “What’s that for?”

“There’s no need to tell everyone everything,” I murmured.

Rea’s sharp eyes flitted over us. “Attacked?”

“That sounds like a story for the fire,” Col observed.

“You will come with us, won’t you?” Mim asked the eager question, her gaze jumping from Brunna to me and back. “We’re planning to go all the way to Besserton.”

“Why would you do that?”

“Why not?” Mim tugged at the ties on her tunic. “I said we should add Besserton to our circuit.” Her gaze found Brunna, whose cheeks turned pink. Had they arranged this?

Mim slid her gaze from Brunna to me. “We wanted to check in on you, so we could be sure your story had ended happily.”

“That’s very kind,” Brunna murmured.

I watched them both – my story, or Brunna’s? I thought I was the only person who knew why she’d wanted to leave Besserton, but I suspected Brunna had confided in Mim, too.

“Thank you. That’s very kind.” I cleared my throat. “Truth is, we have no money.”

Mim beamed. “You can pay us back with your company. It will only take a week to reach Besserton.”

Rea agreed. “Don’t be daft. No charge. You’re almost family by now.”

My heart swelled, my throat too thick for words.

Brunna grinned. “We’d be delighted to join you.”

Mim jerked her head. “Pop your parcels in the back. You can help us set up. You know what to do – unless you’ve forgotten already.” She hopped back onto the front of the wagon and vanished inside. Brunna and I walked around the side.

“I haven’t forgotten,” Brunna promised.

We helped set up the stage for the troupe’s performance. I followed instructions. Brunna made herself invaluable, seeming to know what to do without being told.

Our journey to Besserton was arranged. I wondered whether Brunna would stay home after that. I’d been tied up with Dragon and then with Dragon’s loss on our way to Muirland City, but while I’d been occupied, Brunna seemed to have spent her time training for a future far different to the one her mother had arranged for her.

Proof came as the sun dipped below the horizon and the village gathered to be entertained. Most of their show I was familiar with. Tonight, there was an addition.

Brunna and I sat on the edge of the circle that met the stage, closest to the performers. Just when I thought the show was over, Brunna stepped forward and stood on the edge of the stage. There was a rustle of expectation from the crowd, then she began to sing, clicking her fingers to form her own accompaniment. Her voice soared, pure and clear, sending shivers of emotion down my spine.

I’d heard Brunna hum as she went about her chores back home, but I’d never imagined she was capable of anything like this. The audience hushed. A calm fell over the scene, everyone concentrating hard so they wouldn’t miss a note.

Her eyes were closed, face upturned. She was one with the sound. And her secret was surely out now. This wasn’t the voice of a boy.

No one seemed to care. She sang one song, then another. Mim crept forward to sit beside her, shaking a tambourine to strengthen the song. And then Col and Rea joined in with a drum and a pipe and the tempo sped up, song becoming dance as Col urged the villagers onto their feet and the performance ended with joyous energy.

Mim passed a hat around after that. The villagers found coins if they had them, or gave other gifts if they didn’t: wraps of smoked meat and soft cheeses were part of the payment, while the baker told us to call in at dawn and he’d give us bread for the journey.

While the villagers found their beds, we dismantled the stage and climbed into the wagon to sleep. Brunna lay closest to the back, with Mim behind her.

It took me a while to fall asleep. The change in Brunna had taken me by surprise. I thought she’d been running away from Besserton with no particular destination in mind, but she’d found a new family with the entertainers. I was the one left feeling like I didn’t properly belong anywhere, in limbo until I arrived back home and returned Pa to good health.

We left as early as we could the next day, the wagon rumbling along a track barely wide enough to accommodate it. It was a sunny day, so Rea took the reins while the rest of us walked behind.

Brunna and Mim walked side-by-side, Col and I following behind. The entertainers shared the story of their time in Muirland City – or not in the city, as it turned out.

“The job for our patron went well,” Mim said. “The problems started when we tried to get another engagement in the city.”

Col took up the tale. “The mood’s changed against the Surranese,” he said, with a glance at Mim. She walked with her head high, uncaring of others’ opinions. “They stopped us and questioned Mim about the abduction of the princess – as though she’d know anything about the matter!”

“Wait – the what? The princess was abducted? Princess Jurelle?” He surely couldn’t mean any other, but the idea was too unlikely.

Col nodded. “The news is that the princess was abducted by a group of Surranese rebels to prevent her marriage to the Surran king.”

“I didn’t want to be arrested, so we decided not to pursue work in Muirland City,” Mim said. She lifted a slim shoulder. “We can work anywhere. I’m not foolish enough to go where I’m not welcome.”

I shook my head. Such drama! It made what had happened to us fade to insignificance.

“You were right to steer clear,” Brunna confided, her fingers brushing Mim’s arm before falling back to her side. “The mages turned out to be no help at all. They attacked Alliss and myself.”

Their eyes fell on me. I hitched at my collar again, uncomfortably aware of the marks on my neck. “It’s okay, we got away. And here we are now.” I summed up our situation. I didn’t want to mention the dragon, any of the dragons we’d come across, nor the fae. I feared the troupe’s welcome might grow cold if they knew the mess I was in. And talking about it might make it real; I didn’t want that, either. “I’ll be glad to get home.”

Silence fell. I wondered if Brunna might express an opinion about her intentions when we arrived home but she held her tongue. Her future seemed obvious to me, but perhaps she wasn’t sure herself what she planned to do.