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Table of Contents
Bonus Books Section
Callie’s Guardian
White Tigers of Brigantia
(Book 1)
By: Lisa Daniels
Chapter 1
The Fickle Wheel of Fate
Callie rubbed her hand along the back of her neck, trying to stretch out the muscles. Spending an hour digging for the roots and insects that she needed for the lunar potions was always such a pain—literally. Then again, it was one of the few times when she got to leave the cottage for more than an hour, so it was difficult to hate the task. As the village’s apothecary, Callie spent most of her day working with people and potions, so she tried to enjoy every outing where she could be alone and away from her job. But this was the one chore that she found nearly impossible to enjoy. Her arms and neck ached, and the dirt under her nails would be there for the next three days if she didn’t use a very pungent cleaner that always gave her a headache. She wasn’t worried about the mud now on the back of her neck because a little rubbing made it feel a little more relaxed. Nor did she care about the dirt now in her long, black hair. Only she would know it was there anyway. Every time she did this particular chore, Callie arrived home looking like a forest dweller. Looking forward to her bath, Callie strung the pouch with the tiny mushrooms to her belt, then picked up the full basket and headed toward the road that would take her home.
Though she wasn’t fond of digging up roots, the apothecary had learned years ago to appreciate everything she had. Callie knew exactly how fortunate she was. She had been abandoned as a baby at a butcher’s home. Apparently some butchers had been desperate enough during the Falstone Famine that they would use people to make sure they had meat to sell. It was only through remarkable good fortune that she had ended up being adopted by the apothecary and his husband. They were incredibly sweet, and the village depended on them for virtually everything because the next apothecary was nearly a week away by horseback. As she was growing up, the villagers had frequently told her how much they adored her parents. It wasn’t until she was seven that Callie had learned she was adopted, and it was a bit later than that when she learned why they had needed to adopt a child. The couple had been more than happy to raise a child into the profession because they loved to instruct, and the rest of the village didn’t seem to have either the interest or aptitude for the work. The villagers were glad that there would be someone to take over once the two men were gone.
It had meant that Callie had been treated very well, even if some of the kids had made fun of her for being different. Almost everyone in the town had light brown hair and brown eyes. Callie’s hair was black and shiny, and her eyes were a startling bluish-grey that her dads said reminded them of an ocean they had once visited. Growing up, Callie had dreamed of traveling, and her fathers had indulged her fantasies. At one point, they had even begun to plan a trip. Then the villagers had learned of the plans, and the whole thing had been postponed indefinitely. It was the first time that Callie had faced the truth of the world she lived in—the village could make personal decisions for anyone. All that was needed was a vote, and whatever you wanted could be denied. Over time, she learned just how far that went, but it was only on a small scale. The villagers could choose who a person married and when the marriage happened. That was nothing compared to what the kingdom could do, though. The kingdom could decide that everyone within a village would need to be shipped off to where they were needed. Usually that meant the military, and the only use for untrained villagers was as fodder for a major battle. Anytime a village or town could not pay the ever-increasing taxes, everyone would be taken. The lucky ones were sent into the military, the unlucky ones became slaves of the royal family.
Callie learned all of this from her fathers when she tried to complain about how unfair it was they couldn’t go away. Having been so pampered, the young girl had not been accustomed to being denied anything. It took a year before she stopped complaining, as she started to notice more of the world around her. The kids who picked on her stopped coming into the shop because they had to start working in the fields to pay for the kingdom’s taxes. By the time she was 15 years old, Callie had helped save the lives of four of the kids who used to come into the shop, and had seen nearly as many die from illness that came from working in the hot fields. Though she had been pampered growing up, she was also incredibly intelligent, and she knew that not being able to visit an ocean was a small price to pay for the luxury of working in a shop instead of in the fields.
The year she turned 15 had been a very difficult year for her. Not only did she understand the horrors of the kingdom, her fathers had been killed. They never found out who it was because it happened when they had been taking a day trip several villages over. The intention of the trip had been as a test of Callie’s abilities. Once a villager was 15 years old, they were considered an adult.
The day had started full of excitement. Her fathers had been excited about their first trip in two decades, and Callie was excited to have the chance to be unsupervised. There was nothing unusual over the course of the day, and she conducted business with little problem. Once the busy hours were over, she ate her favorite meal and hoped that her parents would come home late so that she could have some time to herself without doing chores or preparing for the next day. When they had not returned by sundown, she pulled out a work of fiction that a passing troupe had given her. Her fathers did not approve of the stories because they were afraid that she would grow resentful of being tied to the village. Even more of a concern was how she would read late into the night and then be difficult to wake in time for work the next day. Without her fathers around, Callie crawled into bed and giggled as she opened the book that she had hidden in her room for just such an occasion.
A few hours later, she was fast asleep.
When the sun rose the next morning, Callie woke to the sound of knocking, and at first it confused her. Opening her eyes, she quickly realized that the sun was much higher than it usually was when she got up. Wondering why her fathers hadn’t woken her earlier, Callie scurried around the room getting dressed. Her mind was working furiously, and it finally decided that the only logical explanation was a fantastic surprise. Eager to go see what it was, she dashed out the door. It was only as she was rushing toward the knocking sound that she realized that the shop wasn’t open yet. Frowning, she got to the door and yanked it open.
“Oh, Callie! Thank the gods, someone is here. Michechel was chopping wood for the community when an ice wolf attacked. He was able to bury the axe in the thing, but it nearly ripped his leg off first. Where are your fathers? We need to get to him now because the horses are in the field for the next seven hours.”
Callie was frozen for a second. Spinning around, she said over her shoulder, “Hold on, I will find them.”
“Please hurry!” The villager, a middle-aged man named Jathram, was clearly torn between staying and returning to Michechel.
The shop and home were not large so it did not take Callie long to realize that her dads weren’t home yet. A quick look out the window and she saw that the horses weren’t in the stable. With a frown, she shoved the strangeness of the situation into the back of her mind. There was a much more pressing problem to face. Michechel had always been one of her favorite playmates, and lately she had begun to think of him as perhaps being a bit more, so the idea of anything terrible happening to him was not something Callie was willing to accept. Grabbing the things she thought she might need, Callie ran back to the door.
“Sorry, Jathram, but I don’t think they are back yet. I can handle it.”
She didn’t wait to see what his expression was as she threw the door open and hurried out of her home.
“Wait, Callie!” Jathram screamed from behind her. “How are we going to get to him?”
“The same way you got here. Pick it up!” Callie had lifted the hem of her clothing and started running. She had never been a great runner, but the worry gave her a swiftness Callie could never have achieved on her own. Though Jathram hadn’t told her where it had happened, Callie allowed her instincts to lead her.
Almost unable to breathe when she arrived, Callie leaned over and panted for a second as she neared the scene. The last thing she wanted was to appear unprofessional in the face of an emergency because she would need people to do what she said. That required an air of authority that would be difficult if she was out of breath and disheveled. Stealing herself for a horrific sight, the young apothecary tried to put on the kind of air her fathers used when dealing with emergencies.
As she rounded the small building near one of the primary wood chopping areas the villagers used, Callie immediately felt sick at the sight. Michechel was extremely pale, and he barely seemed conscious.
Shoving her emotions aside, Callie immediately began barking orders to the two people who were with him. They quickly scurried away to get water, rags, and other things that she ordered.
Getting down on her knees, Callie opened the bag. “I was hoping to see you this week. All you had to do was ask. You didn’t have to go and get mauled, you know.”
Michechel let out a little laugh. “You have my apologies.” He reached up and touched her face as Callie started to try to save his leg. “I guess I should tell you that my parents have already chosen my wife. This is about the only way to see you now.”
Callie let her hands work as her mind tried to shut out what he had said. She knew that the village got to make these kinds of choices, but she had recently started to hope that maybe she would be allowed to pick her spouse. Michechel would probably have been her choice. It wasn’t like they had promised each other anything—what would be the point? But they had met up a couple of times at night away from the village, and the time had been pleasant. A couple of enjoyable strolls around a little pond in the middle of the forest, and an innocent kiss the last time. Though he was more than two years older than her, Callie had found him to be good company. It hurt, but Callie couldn’t let it affect her.
She smiled at her patient. “I would prefer that you get your wife pregnant and come visit often. That’s definitely preferable to—” Unable to bring herself to acknowledge what such an injury would mean, she changed the subject. “Your birthday is coming up. Apart from saving your leg, what would you like?”
The other villagers had returned. Callie immediately sent them away again, hoping to get a little more time alone with Michechel. It would probably be the last time, and even though it was a terrible situation, she wasn’t ready to lose the illusion that she had built about her future. After the other two villagers were gone—back to her home to retrieve some poultices—she turned back to Michechel.
His faint smile let her know that he understood what she was doing. It was one of the things that she really liked about him. Michechel was far more intelligent than most of the other villagers, and he knew that she had sent them away to be alone with him. “Actually, if you can keep me alive, I will consider that the best birthday present.” Michechel grimaced as she began cleaning the wound. “I don’t think that there is much that can be done for the leg now.”
Callie fought back the sting of tears. Acting much stronger than she felt, she said, “I accept your challenge.” She reached into her bag, leaving bloody prints on it as she pulled out a small blanket. She put it on the ground. “Lie down.”
“I am.”
Reaching out, she pressed Michechel’s head onto the blanket. “I said lie down. Don’t you know how to follow directions?”
“Yes, ma’am.” He smiled and closed his eyes. Almost as soon as he did, Michechel’s breath slowed down.
Concern coursed through her, and Callie feared that she might be too late. She had done almost everything her fathers had taught her, but he was still bleeding. Closing her eyes, Callie took a deep breath, then suddenly her hands began to work. It was almost like a trance. Only vaguely aware of what she was doing, Callie let her instincts work. There was a vague voice in her mind, instructing her to do things that made no sense.
“Wave your hands over him to slow his heart.” She did as she was told. “Very good. Now place your hands on the bone.” Her stomach lurched, but Callie did as she was instructed. She had no idea how much time had passed, but when she opened her eyes, Michechel’s leg was reattached to his body. There were stitches, but something told her that was just for show. Falling back, she felt completely drained.
A noise from behind her attracted Callie’s attention. “We brought it! What do you need—”
Callie turned to look at the two villagers who had finally returned. “He needs to be put to bed. I’ve stitched him up, and I think that he will be able to walk in a month or two.”
“That’s impossible!” One of the villagers rushed forward. “It was completely—” His eyes moved over Michechel, then he turned to Callie. “How did you do it?”
The lie came without her even thinking about it. “One of the medical books had some theories in it. I simply tried them out.”
The villagers shared a look, then leaned over to pick up Michechel. At their touch, he woke. “Callie?”
Struggling to get up on her own, the apothecary looked over at her patient. “Yes, Michechel?”
He gave her a weak smile. “Come by my parents’ hut later. I know how to answer your question now.”
She nodded. The two men lifted him and carried him home.
Callie stumbled back toward her home. She was only vaguely aware of the state she was in over the next hour as her legs had trouble carrying her. One of the few thoughts she was aware of was that Michechel had invited her to see him at his parents’ home. Maybe he was going to ask them to give him Callie as a wife. Hope helped her move forward despite how drained she felt.
To her surprise, Jathram was waiting at the door of the shop almost like a statue. About the only movement he made was to wring his hands. As Callie approached, he looked at the door. “Um, Callie, there are some men here to see you. If you want, I can, um, talk to them while you clean up.”
Callie gave him a weary smile. “It’s okay, Jathram. I think he will be okay. You can tell the men that we don't have anyone for them today.”
Jathram bit his lip, clearly torn about what to say. Finally, he looked up at Callie with hope in his eyes. “You mean Michechel died?”
Callie frowned, “No, no, no. I mean I think that he will be able to walk again.”
Jathram looked shocked. “Not possible. I saw—”
Callie shook her head. “Time will tell, but I have a few books with some theories. I tried a couple of them out, and I think that it worked.”
Jathram shook his head, “I don’t even think they could have saved him.” A cloud passed over his face and he looked at her. “They aren’t here about Michechel. These men are from Frotham. I think you should go clean up, and, um, get dressed.”
The strangeness of the appearance of two men from one of the nearby villages seemed odd, but that was quickly forgotten as she realized what Jathram was trying to tell her. It was only then that Callie realized that she had not gotten dressed before going out. Her eyes looked down at her clothes, and she realized that she had not been holding up a dress but her nightgown as she had run to Michechel. The gown was almost see-through, and she suddenly felt very self-aware. Squeaking like a mouse caught by a cat, she covered her chest and ran to the back of the shop to a door that led to the hallway with her room. She quickly opened the door and ran to her room. Her cheeks were a bright red as she pulled off her nightgown. There was a small sink near her closet with fresh water she had placed there the day before. Washing her hands and face, she looked in the mirror to make sure that all of the blood was gone before picking out a dress for the day.
Checking again in the mirror to make sure she looked alright, Callie’s mind was still focused on the fact that she had just let Michechel see her in the most inappropriate clothes she could imagine. No wonder he had started by telling her that his parents had chosen a bride for him—he must have thought she was trying to seduce him. Then the invitation to his home made her feel hopeful again; maybe her actions had won him over after all.
Emerging from the hallway, there was a wide grin on Callie’s face as she looked at the two visitors. “Hello, gentlemen. How can I help you?”
The two men turned and looked at her, then they looked at each other. “We are here to talk about your fathers.”
“Oh, they went on a trip yesterday and haven’t returned.” She wasn’t sure why they couldn’t just ask her for help, but it wasn’t too surprising that people unfamiliar with the village didn’t know that she had years of training.
One of the men pulled a seat from the small waiting area. “If you would please sit down, Callie. We need to talk.”
***
Four years had passed since that terrible day. Michechel had made a full recovery, but Callie had never made it to his home to find out what he wanted for his birthday. She had two funerals to plan. Michechel had gotten married less than four months later, and now he and his wife had three children.
Callie let the basket swing by her side as she walked along the road, the memories of that day occasionally haunting her. She looked up at the sky and sighed as a small drop of rain hit her face. Unfazed, she shook her head and began to hum. Within 10 minutes she was completely soaked, and puddles began to form both in the road and along the sides of it.
The sound of a carriage hurrying behind her caught her attention, and she stepped to the side of the road. It was strange that a carriage would travel through here because the road really wasn’t often used by the kind of people who had carriages, and it was risky for the horses given the large holes. It certainly wouldn’t be a comfortable ride for the occupants. Moving as far off the road as she could, Callie continued to make her way back to the shop, trying to walk around the puddles.
Suddenly she was knocked off her feet, her body flying like a rag doll through the air. She was fortunate enough to have a large puddle soften her fall, but it also completely covered her in mud. She was only partially aware of the sound of the carriage halting. It was only when a man’s voice rang out that she looked up, the anger growing in her. There had been plenty of space. The horses could have killed her. Balling her fists, Callie knew that much of her work had just been undone—she could see the basket broken in the road with most of the contents crushed by the horses’ hooves and carriage wheels.
“What do you think you are doing, peasant? Do you have any idea how expensive these horses are? They are worth more dead than you are alive.”
Her eyes shifted from the demolished basket to the man. She was prepared to respond, letting her anger show, but then Callie’s eyes saw the shimmering metal that was approaching her.
The man laughed, “I see you understand the situation. It’s not like anyone is going to notice. I should let my servant do this, but I feel personally insulted by what you did, and the best way to teach others is to dole out punishment yourself.”
Callie’s eyes watched as the man approached her, waving the sword side to side as a way to increase her fear. When he reached her, Callie knew there was nothing she could do. This was a noble. If she were to try to fight, the men standing around the carriage would kill her. If she ran, they would kill her.
The sword was drawn back. “Good. Very good. I love it when the sheep accept their fate.” She saw the malice in his eyes, and Callie knew in that moment she wanted to live. It was the only thought she had as the sword began to move toward her heart.