Sly

Chapter Eleven

Sly

The Festival of the Hunt was upon the Midlands before we knew it. 

The people of Swamp wasted no time in trying out their new candles, and Jexa was exhausted as he reported to Davery each dawn before trudging home to collapse. They tried not to wake me up, but I could still hear the hushed conversations about who was in trouble, who had no food. Even with arranging the trade of essential food and goods for Swamp, hearing people's pleas for help and settling disputes, the Daggers just had too many desperate people and not enough resources. 

Jexa, of course, had his dock work. Graham foraged in the Godswood for anything to aid the poor of Unays, which was a risk both because the Godswood was off limits to non-royals and because the forest itself would retaliate if he made a move it didn't like. Davery kept to our table mostly. Marking his map, plotting by candlelight, directing supplies where they were needed the most. 

Marak had lived all his life as an apothecary, and while he still made enough coin to live by, he found time to concoct medicines for the temples to disperse. I was probably the most thankful for him and his wisdom in medicine. The flooding season would be ahead of us, and with it the wet fever.

Dirk found time to drill me on combat in every spare moment we had. So relentless was his last-minute training, that I was almost relieved when the festival finally arrived. 

Almost.

It was early morning when I arrived to fulfill my duties to Panther's house. My back ached as I went up and down the stairs for a good hour packing everything the muses wanted to bring. This would normally not have been so many bags to take for three days but they had instruments, fans, gowns, and other tools of their lavish trade. Heavy tools, that were cumbersome to carry in the Midlands heat.

When I was finally finished loading the hired wagon and the muses were done with hair and face paints, it was late morning. I sat on the driving bench by the hard woman who drove the mules. She eyed me once, told me to mind my fingers near the mules' mouthes, and then paid me no attention after that. 

Noted.

The muses were in the wagon with the luggage. The twins Moon and Star weaseled their way to the seats behind me and proceeded to tickle and poke mer when I wasn't paying attention, each blaming the other when I glared back at them. Their anatics did little to endear me to the hard woman driving the wagon. 

Orchid sat beside the shy River in the back seat and they practiced a complex series of hand movements, presumably for a dance. A much better use of time than Star and Moon's mischief. Panther and her second in command Fae appeared to rest on the smother stretches of road, causing me to wonder if they weren't planning on sleeping tonight.

"Ah, we're close." Fae murmured, watching the approaching gates loom near. 

My heart raced. I hadn't been this close to the palace. Ever. I wondered at the building made from stone, unlike the painted clay that made up the rest of Unays. Swamp in particular couldn't afford to build with anything so sturdy. The stone remained cold and gray as the day it was dug from whatever far off land it hailed from. Certainly not the Midlands. The walls reached three tall stories into the sky, already towering over the high cliff they were perched on. The tallest point in the Midlands, and visible for leagues. More than once I'd watched its long shadow crawl across the lake and fall over the tiny homes below. I was glad to note that Orchid, Star and Moon were also quietly impressed. At least I wasn't alone.