sparrow and lion

Chapter 4: runaways

Wren met his betrothed one evening in the summer of his eighth year and, the subsequent morning, he and Leo ran away from home. They took with them only a small retinue of servants, two quivers of arrows, a bow, Leo's favorite dresses, a small wagon filled with desserts, and the captain of the guard.

The lord, still abed after a night spent drinking and socializing with the patriarchs of the courts he was trying to seduce with his prepubescent pawns, hadn't the slightest idea anything was afoot. The lady, herself distraught over how perfectly Wren's bride-to-be matched him, approved the escapade. Running away was good for children. She had never done so, but her eldest sister had run away at least half a dozen times in their youth, and she was now fifteen years married to a renowned musician who still treated her to flowers and bonbons every day and never complained about the cost of tailoring dresses to her ever-expanding waistline. The lady's own match was far less desirable - the musician, she was sure, would never force her sister to trade any of their seven children for court favors - and she was almost certain it was her own meekness that had brought about such misfortune for her own children.

And so, when the captain came to notify the lord of the noble children's impending escape, the lady waylaid him, provided him a map, and sent him and the children on their way. Covertly, of course. Running away feels far less fanciful when your parents approve.

Wren, of course, saw nothing the matter with their entourage or the towering supply of tarts and cakes. He was only eight, after all, and it only made sense. And he went along with it.

Leo, of course, saw everything the matter with their entourage and the towering supply of tarts and cakes. She was already eight, after all, and it made no sense whatsoever. But she went along with it.

The estate was an elaborate one at a major city near an important port. Those three summers previously, when the children had raced through the tangle of alleys between the new district and the old, it had been fish bones that jabbed their tiny feet. And no one - child or adult - can truly think clearly in a city stinking of rotting fish, so the group wound its way north, away from the city and the sea. There were peaceful meadows and quaint villages and tranquil woods that way. The roads were oft patrolled and the woods were oft hunted and the greatest danger the children might face was a sugary stomach ache or the sight of a frightened rabbit that Leo would break her own heart chasing but failing to catch.

The only real danger lay slightly to the east, in the cavernous mountain range that towered there. It was made of vicious predators and rockslides and rumors of a weather witch who summoned storms on a whim.

But the children rode ponies and were surrounded by loyal servants. There was no danger for any children to be had.

For any normal children.

And, if it had been only Wren or even Wren and nearly any other child in the world, it would have been as safe as the lady imagined.

But Leo was not any other child.

And so, in the dead of the fourth night of their journey, when Leo knew the guard was as far from their ponies as he could possibly get, she awoke Wren and motioned him to follow.

Wren, used to rude midnight awakenings and strange adventures, complied in silent obedience.

And, before the guard had noticed their departure, daybreak had come and the children were gone. Their ponies were still there, of course, lending to the illusion that all was well, but, upon further inspection, the captain's sleek stallion and the pack mule who had been carrying Leo's dresses were missing.

As, of course, were Leo's dresses.

You can never be too well dressed for an adventure.

The children did not speak as they left the summer behind to climb the winter mountains. Wren knew that something was wrong. Not a single treacle had been eaten these past days and treacle was Leo's favorite. Wren was a child, but he wasn't an idiot. It was just that he knew better than to speak in moments like this. Leo wasn't an idiot, either, but she hadn't the slightest idea what was wrong. She knew only that everything was wrong. She felt a deep, pounding rage that made her too sick to eat.

The girl's name was Eileen and she was perhaps the prettiest person Leo had ever seen. Long, silky hair. Big, bright eyes. Smooth skin with no hint of scrape or scar. Even her mismatched assortment of baby and adult teeth was charming. She smiled at Wren and talked to Wren and knew how to make him smile back and how to get him talking.

And Leo hated her.

Or, rather, she hated turning to tell Wren something only to spot him across the courtyard talking to Eileen instead. She hated that, when Eileen had told Leo not to pour soap into the courtyard fountain, Wren had agreed with her. The duke's two spoiled brats had come face-to-face with Wren, their favorite target for ridicule, and spoken kindly to him because Eileen was there. When Leo had spat her insults at Wren's tormenters and sent them away, it was she who had looked bad in front of everyone. Not even Wren had been grateful for her intervention.

Eileen made Leo useless.

And, if she was useless, then what use was there in even existing?

It was something that had long bothered her. Why was she here? The lady loved Wren more. The lord hated them both but hated her harder. The servants liked her, but adored him. The only person in the world who loved her best was Wren himself. And Eileen was going to take that away from her. She could see it. Her life had begun in that alley three years ago and it would end the day they took him away from her. If you matter to no one at all, do you even exist? If you exist but don't matter, then what is the point?

They stopped only twice as they traversed the steepness of the mountains. Once when the black stallion stumbled into a snow-covered hole and had to be left behind and again, several hours later, when Leo layered her three favorite dresses for warmth and abandoned the others in the snow.

The sun began to set and the air got colder. "Where are we going?" Wren asked.

"Up there," she said. She pointed her finger to the tip of the tallest peak and Wren didn't question it. Leo didn't know where they were going at all, of course. She just wanted somewhere Eileen wouldn't go. A place where the guards couldn't find them and drag them back to the household where they'd have to get married in twelve years and never see each other again. Maybe they would find a cave to live in with a pack of tamed wolves or perhaps they would find the weather witch and she would teach them magic. Leo didn't know. She didn't care. All that mattered was that no one take Wren away.

"It's cold," Wren said.

"We'll find a cave," Leo said.

"There's one." Wren pointed. The mule followed his finger and trudged a path through the deep snow towards it.

Which, of course, is when things went wrong. Because things must always go wrong at some point. Usually when one least suspects it. And, in this situation, the thing Leo least suspected was a giant, angry bear.