CHAPTER 3: The Official Visit

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“This has gotten out of hand.” I overheard a man behind me, whispering to the other, “Gentry Philcox was furious due to that incident with the housebreaker during the feasting.”

His companion answered in a hushed tone. “Yes. Now, he has tightened control over the entrance and exit. The magistrate has sent a messenger about it to the king.”

The first man exhaled carefully. “We should be careful with every move from now on.”

Jeter and I walked away. They were talking about the burglary that happened two days ago during the feasting at the house of the Gentry.

Someone has stolen from the manor. A golden bracer that was on display has been taken. No Leirran stole it. The soldiers searched every house but they weren’t able to find it. One thing the Commander knows, he is not from this town. The golden bracer must have already exited Leirra yesterday.

How did the thief manage to evade all eyes, especially within the fortified walls of the Gentry's manor? Now the Commander and the rest of the soldiers are under immense pressure. Even without my vision, I can foresee that the king would soon take severe action not just to those guilty but the innocents would be affected as well. Leirra is now vigilant every second. The streets were never empty of soldiers.

Saitriche had not heard of offense for donkey's years and after that event, the magistrate had announced that anyone who is found guilty of theft will have his right hand severed at the square for everyone to witness or face terrible punishment as ordered by the king.

Jeter and I silently went home. Neither of us said a word while we were walking. Our ears tuned to the whispers of others on the streets. Whoever it was certainly left a huge mess here in Leirra.

After everything that had happened to me last week I know my life is far from ordinary now. I’m not just Merryn anymore, I’m Merryn with a curse. I am able to see things before their time. But even with this so called gift I wasn’t able to foresee Christaire’s plans to set me up with the broken window in the refectory. Head nun Bithiah had given me the punishment of cleaning the lavatorium every day, for the whole week and I wasn’t allowed to leave Chancel. Yesterday my sentence ended but nothing went back to normal with all the confusion in the town.

My case was a whitewash. Jeter was my only proof that I was not guilty. I told them I was with Jeter when that occurred but I couldn’t let them ask him. Strange things had happened that day and even though I trusted him of not telling anyone, I became careful especially with the nuns. I perfectly know what would happen next if they find out all about it. That was when I accepted my defeat. I was defenseless.

I just wanted to be a normal girl together with my family and away from Chancel. Isn’t that what every other girl in here wants? I don’t want this gift. I don’t want anything else aside from what I had mentioned but I guess I could never have a normal life.

Later that night while we all were lining up to eat for supper, Bithiah halted us for a while. The Magistrate and the Commander went knocking in Chancel. We greeted them as we were trained to greet couples who would like to embrace any one of us. Bithiah and the Magistrate, with the Commander following him, walked and observed us one by one.
Grisigon, the Leirran Magistrate stopped in front of me. He called Bithiah to his side. “Did you have new girls recently?”

Bithiah shook her head slowly. “No Sir.”

His eyes were boring into me before he turned and left with the Commander. Even the servants of the House of God were questionable and they come in here and accuse little girls?

As Bithiah continued us to the refectory, I caught Christaire’s eyes on me. She must have enjoyed the idea that Grisigon had looked at me like I was doubtful. She probably will come up to me and ask me if I have commanded the evil entities again and I don’t need my vision for me to know that. She would just do anything to devastate me. Like being stuck here in Chancel isn’t already devastating for me.

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