Page 3 of The King’s Commander

Chapter Two

Aedre

Murwood End

God be praised, it is, at least, a blessedly sunny day. We have so few of them here, even in summer, and the sun is a necessary part of my plan.

“Is that jasper?” Anna, the cobbler’s wife, peers over my shoulder. “Tis a most unusual color, no?”

It is. Which is the precise reason I’ve choosen it.

Whatever she may think, the cobbler’s wife does not need her husband to fall in love with her again. She needs to see herself as Anna, a person whose worth is not dependent on anyone else. I’ve visited her so often, she’s given me three new pairs of shoes as payment, yet she still refuses to heed any of the advice I offer.

My amma says to save the jasper for when I have no other hope for healing. With luck, this will bring Anna some peace.

“Aye, ’tis so for a reason,” I say.

Then, just as the sun hits the deep red stone, faint lines of grey appear. She gasps and leans closer. Clutching the stone to my chest, I mentally recite the words my grandmother taught me.

Spred manns Hoc, fide tum boll. Boll tum fie, Hoc manns Sprend.

I open my hand, the lines now gone. “Take it.”

Anna looks at my hand as if it’s poisoned. A familiar tug in my chest reminds me that even the most ardent supporters of my practice have been taught to mistrust it. But Anna has known me since childhood, and she gingerly takes the stone.

“Hear me, and this shall be our last meeting.”

As always, she glances down the road at the overgrown path that leads away from Murwood End. Her cottage sits on the northernmost edge of the village. Beyond us, the road leads away from the only home I’ve ever known to lands I’ll likely never see, if my father has his way. It is safe for my kind here. For me and Amma, for our ancestors. Not so beyond the Loigh Mountains.

We attend to each other once again.

Taking her hands in mine, I say the words that are more important than any spell.

“You must love yourself above all others. When you can do that, your fate will begin to change course.”

Is she ready to listen to my words?

I’m unsure, so I squeeze her hand shut with the talisman inside. “If you’ve any doubts, put this in the sunlight as I’ve done today. Squeeze it as a reminder of my words, and consider them well.”

She nods with the same solemnity I had when Amma first showed me this spell. I asked Amma, more than once, if it works because of the way the sun strikes the stone, the words I utter or the Garra blood that runs through my veins, but she always answers the same way. Does it truly matter? I suppose it does not, but sometimes, like today, I wish I knew the answer.

“You are not the cobbler’s wife. You are Anna. Daughter of a fierce voyager and the kindest soul in these parts. Aye?”

“Aye,” she whispers.

“’Twas weakly done.”

“Aye,” she says again, but her voice is still not adamant enough for my liking.

“I cannot hear you,” I lie.

“Aye,” she says more loudly this time. For now, I’m satisfied.

I release her hands. “You will have no need of me after today.”

It is more of a hope than a prediction, but it wouldn’t help Anna to tell her so.

“How can I repay you, Lady Aedre?”