The Four Tales Read online

  Simon shook his head and glanced at his new friend. Her cheeks were red, and he worried he’d embarrassed her. He wondered, for a second, what his parents would think if he sent her to them in his stead. Of course, revealing her to his parents would ruin his plan, and she probably wouldn't wish to go. He decided to change the topic.

  “I should get back to these potatoes. Do you want to start making the pancakes? I think the spuds at the perfect moment to start them.”

  Cassie nodded, and they continued to work in silence.

  “Whoever heard of a land dispute after all this time? It’s been four decades since the last war. The Scholars Initiative decided it was best to set up the four kingdoms with specific laws to counter any future wars. King Ammandon is not in his right mind.”

  Cassie listened to her father with wide eyes. She glanced between him, her stepmother, and Simon. Her rescuer had managed to keep her father talking the whole time they ate their meal.

  Petunia had glowered at her all the while trying to coerce Simon into conversation. He was polite but kept his interactions with her short. Aven scowled at his plate, which made Cassie lose her appetite. Aven’s moods weren’t pretty.

  Simon wished he could ask Cassie what she was thinking and what her facial expressions meant because most of them appeared to be a form of surprise. Scooping the last of his fried potatoes, he smiled in her direction. He watched her eyes widen, glance at Petunia, and drop back to her plate.

  His eyes found Petunia’s next. She smiled at him, but her eyes glowered. Nodding, he turned back to Mr. Alasdair.

  “I am positive our king will win this war,” Mr. Alasdair said, as he finished his meal. “King Ammandon will be defeated before you know it! The calling of arms is a precautionary step. Our ancestors strived hard for peace.”

  “I agree, sir. King Tritium will have everything well in hand. It’s a pleasure to hear another thinks the same as I.”

  “Well, of course, my boy! You won't find a doubter hereabouts in the Kingdom of Dalry. We are all quite loyal to His Majesty. No one would think unkind thoughts. Our king is the best king.”

  “I am glad to hear you speak so, sir. I agree wholeheartedly. I’m sure this is a precaution, but it’s nice to know so many are willing to answer the call.”

  “No one wants real war, my boy. They took away technology and all forms of convenience to ensure it. No one wants a war like the last one. However, we’ll move out at first light and let the king know we stand with him no matter what happens.”

  “My family feels the same, Mr. Alasdair. They are very protective of the life we have managed to sustain after all these years. Although, I’m eager to see this signing camp.”

  “It will be a sight, my boy. There isn't any man not willing to stand for king and kingdom.”

  “Yes, sir,” Simon concurred with another smile.

  “Feel free to call me Alasdair, my boy. No need to stand on ceremony.”

  “An honor, Alasdair. Please feel free to call me Simon.” The younger smiled at the older.

  “I suppose we must be off to bed soon if we are to rise with the sun and make it to our destination,” her father added.

  Cassie took her cue, stood, and began to clear off the table. Simon rose to help her.

  “Cassie, me-dear, why don't you leave the dishes and take Simon out and show him where he can bed down this evening? I'm sure Petunia and Aven can help clean up.”

  The plate Cassie held crashed to the ground. Food splattered everywhere as she stood staring open-mouthed at her father. She wasn't the only one. Mrs. Alasdair, Petunia, and Aven were also slack-jawed with irritated eyes.

  “Why do we have to?” Petunia's high-pitched voice had Simon raising his hands to his ears until he checked himself.

  “I think it'd be nice to give her a rest. She and Simon have cooked the meal. No reason you two can't handle the clean up. Go on now, Cassie. Take Simon outside and enjoy the evening weather.”

  Cassie swallowed and nodded but bent to clean up the mess on the floor.

  “Leave it. I'll tend to it, me-dear,” Mr. Alasdair waved them out.

  “Thank you, papa,” Cassie said as she passed behind his chair, and her hand was clasped by his for a brief moment.

  “Thank you, me-dear. Enjoy the moonlight.”

  Cassie looked over her shoulder to find Simon right behind her. His smile was bright and catching. She started to return his grin until she saw the glare Miriam directed toward her.

  She didn’t look around to Petunia or Aven but face forward. There wasn't another sound as they escaped through the kitchen and out the back door.

  6

  “Does your family normally treat you as if you're the maid?” Simon's voice filtered through the dusk as they walked to the edge of the forest.

  A few minutes previous, Cassie had shown him the barn and made sure he had what he needed to sleep there for the night. Hearing this question gave her pause. She wasn't surprised he had caught onto their behavior.

  Cassie wiped a piece of hair from her eyes before shrugging. “I suppose I’ve never given it much consideration. It’s been like this forever. When my mother died, I was sent to my aunt’s house for a few years.”

  “Why didn’t you stay there?”

  “She died, and I came back here. My father remarried the same year I returned. He seemed to think I needed a mother.”

  Simon exhaled and said, “As much as I like your father, in the short time I’ve known him, I’ve got to say that was a stupid idea. You don’t need any of them.”

  Cassie snorted. “I agree with you, but what’s done is done. Over the years, families have tried to consolidate in order to care for each other and save our resources. We know what our ancestors went through, and we don’t want to lose the little we have.”

  “I can understand, but did he have to marry her? Wasn’t there anyone else?”

  Cassie shrugged. “I didn’t ask. We’re farmers, and Miriam’s husband was a clothing maker. There was a discrepancy in the job status, but no one is above anyone else. Not anymore.”

  “Yet, she thinks she could have done better?”

  Cassie shrugged again and ignored the pull of her ribs.

  “Everyone works together though. It’s what the king established. The whole point of a king is to make sure the world works together at its best. We might have stolen the idea from our ancestors, but I’d like to think we perfected it too,” Simon told her.

  “I agree. We harvest the fields for the bakers to make their bread and the cotton to be made into cloth. Everyone works together. The king is generous to everyone, and we do our part in turn. Some people have a little difficulty remembering where classes got us the last time.”

  “Your stepmother and her children, to give an example, believe in the hierarchy?”

  Nodding, Cassie sighed. “I think you could go centuries into the future and still find someone who would believe they have a better plan than their predecessors. We might have a lot less than our ancestors did, but at least the earth is still here, and we’re not all destroyed.”

  Simon clasped his hands behind his back and asked, “You appeared to be surprised by your father's comments at the table. May I ask what surprised you?”

  A crack from the woods had their eyes darting to look at the trees and swaying leaves. A branch, which must have been dislodged from a previous storm, hit the ground to their right.

  “I have to say I'm delighted the branch didn't hit us,” he attempted to joke. The wind picked up around them again.

  “The trees roundabout here will get quite ferocious when the wind kicks up. Perhaps a summer storm is moving in.” Cassie brushed her hair from her eyes once more and angled her body toward him.

  “It's a remarkable sight. However, I think I'd rather know what held your interest at the supper table?” He sighed when she hesitated. “I gather I'm being impertinent. I apologize.”

  Holding a hand to her skirt and a hand to her hair, she wis
hed she’d changed into pants. She wore the dress because she’d needed to do the gardening, and it was easier to hold her books in the large pockets. She liked wearing a dress occasionally, but now it annoyed her.

  Turning her thoughts from her clothing, Cassie contemplated his question. There didn’t seem to be any reason not to answer it. However, she felt it was a very personal note to start their friendship on.

  “As I mentioned, my mother died when I was nine, and she was the light of my father's life. After she passed, he couldn't seem to find his bearings. He continued to work the farm. Our fields are behind the barn.”

  Simon followed her arm and nodded. He could see the flat expanse of land dotted by plants further out. Returning his gaze to her face, he waited for her to continue.

  “When he came home, he would eat very little and head to bed. I became accustomed to cleaning and working around the house. I was up before the sun to fix his breakfast and lunch each morning. The day was spent cleaning, doing the laundry, and preparing the evening meal.”

  She bent down to feel the petals of a budding daisy. “We got into a routine. It didn't seem to matter what I did, father just walked around in a fog.”

  “He appeared quite happy tonight. He’s not normally like this?”

  Cassie shook her head and sighed. Standing, Simon took her arm and turned them to walk along the forest's border. For a second, she savored the feel of her hand wrapped within his arm, and his hand heating the top of hers.

  Glancing at his hand, she contrasted it with her own. His fingers were long-fingered, tan, and warm. Hers were long as well but paler next to his. Taking a deep breath, Cassie refocused on their conversation instead of the nervous twist in the bottom of her stomach.

  “He was different tonight. I haven't seen him so happy and talkative. It was as if he's a completely different person.”

  “So, when did he marry your stepmother?”

  “Father decided to send me to an aunt when I turned ten, who had offered for me to come and stay after mother's death. I lived with Aunt Margaret for five years. She died right after I turned fifteen,” she said.

  Looking around, she lowered her voice and added, “Father brought me home to a whole new family. I can't say he has altered much since the first year after mother's death. I've spent all my time since returning helping to take care of the house.”

  Simon nodded and asked, “Do Petunia and Aven help?”

  “What do you think?”

  “I would wager they don’t help at all.”

  “That's a wager you would win.”

  Glancing at each other, they smiled and continued to walk in silence toward the house.

  “Why do you think your father’s been different?”

  “I suspect it's you. We don't usually receive visitors. Neighbors come by once in a while, but he's rather quiet around them as well. Mrs. Kemyss, Miriam’s friend, also visits but during the day while father is out. I think you cheered him.”

  “Then I’m pleased I stopped to pull you out of the cellar.”

  Cassie laughed and retorted, “Indeed, I’m also pleased. I've been stuck down there one too many times to count.”

  Simon paused before asking, “What do you think of this possible war?”

  “It scares me,” Cassie admitted. “A lot of really good people could die on both sides. I’m sure King Ammandon’s people don’t want to go to war over a piece of land any more than we do. It seems petty after years of peace to disrupt it on the pretext of obtaining more land. Why would he even attempt it?”

  “Men become discontent and bold when they are bored,” Simon theorized.

  “Which is stupid. If anything, after the last war and the devastation of losing whole countries, you’d think he’d be a bit more grateful for what he does have.”

  “You would think so, but as you mentioned earlier, years into the future there will be people who want to change the world for the better. Only it will likely be on the pretext of some slight or illusion of gaining more. Is anyone ever really satisfied with what they have, when they have it?”

  “I don’t think so, Mr. Rupert.”

  “Simon, call me Simon.”

  “All right. Simon. I hope this war doesn’t happen,” Cassie whispered.

  “Me too,” he agreed. “I hate to think of the destruction and damage it will bring.”

  Cassie smiled as they walked further. “There is one good thing I can say happened.”

  “What?” Simon smiled down at her.

  “I got to meet you. It’s not often I find a new friend,” she said.

  “Agreed. Do you think I can write to you?”

  Cassie’s eyes widened, and she stopped walking. “You want to write to me?”

  “If that’s okay?”

  “Yes. It’s absolutely okay.”

  Simon’s eyes were bright in the light from the windows. “Well, I suppose I should say goodnight now.”

  They had stopped outside the kitchen door. “Goodnight, Cassie. Make sure you care for yourself and sleep well.”

  “Thank you, Simon. Sleep well.” She watched him walk away.

  Make sure you care for yourself and sleep well, his voice repeated in her head.

  Lulled into a sense of security, Cassie made her way through the kitchen to get a hot rag. She filled a pan with water and let it boil.

  Cassie felt the tug of her ribs still and hurried to pour it into the hot water bottle with every care. The bag was old and scalded her hands a little as she shifted it from one to the other.

  Ignoring this and with the bottle in hand, Cassie made her way to her room. Changing, her ribs pulled at times as she wrapped them tightly with the sturdy piece of cloth before turning back her covers to climb into bed.

  “How?” Cassie asked, as she looked down upon several, slimy, dead tadpoles. Her body slumped forward, causing her to gasp at the nudge to her side.

  “Why don’t they like me? Why are they always doing this?” she murmured to the shadows.

  It didn't matter how or even when. She knew whom: Aven. She should have known. Even though he was too old for such childishness, Aven disliked being shown up by anyone, especially her. He hadn't liked the set-down he and Petunia received from Simon. This was his payback.

  There was nothing else to do but strip the bed and put on new sheets. It was another twenty minutes before she had done this and cared for the soiled sheets with the dead bodies.

  Gagging a few times, Cassie was able to dispose of them out the back door. When she finally fell into bed, it was with a grateful sigh.

  Lying there, water bottle pressed to her side, she began to think.

  “Perhaps she should have kept the gross little tadpoles and cooked them for her brother and sister to eat the next day?” she whispered.

  Her mind considered the option with a small smile. If they found out though, the retribution would be swift and fierce.

  Unfortunately, her thoughts brought the realization that after tomorrow she would have no father and no friend to save her from the retaliation of Aven and Petunia.

  “I’ll be all alone for the first time ever,” she considered. “I hope father comes home, and I hope Simon returns. If there are any wishes left in the world, please, please, don’t let me lose either of them.”

  7

  Mornings should be outlawed. There should be some sort of mandate that no one is allowed to get out of bed before nine o'clock. EVER.

  Cassie allowed her irritation to take form in her thoughts for a few minutes when her internal clock woke her up.

  Why does it feel as if I just fell asleep?

  Her lids felt heavy and were hard to keep open and focus. She hated mornings. She was not an early riser by choice but by default. Yawning, Cassie stretched out her arms and felt a slight twinge to her ribs.

  “Better than expected,” she told the ceiling. “Now, to get up and start the day as usual. Breakfast for everyone and lunch for father...”

  Sitting up
straight in bed, she remembered Simon. He would be there for breakfast as well. She should pack a lunch for him too. Her eyes traveled to the clock in the corner. Another privilege they had to keep running for as long as possible without technology or an update in batteries.

  The allotment for batteries were sparse and handed out once a year. Electricity was kept at a minimum and only allowed at certain times throughout the morning and night. It was difficult when trying to accommodate everyone’s schedule.

  Most days she saw her father off to the fields with a hearty breakfast and packed lunch. Then she cleaned up and reheated the food before delivering it to her stepmother and siblings. They insisted on breakfast in bed and did not rise before ten.

  “I’ll need to cook him breakfast and lunch as well. I wonder how many potatoes are left in the pantry? I better find out,” she said, and tossed aside her covers to climb from bed.

  “Cold, cold, cold,” she muttered and jumped for her robe. Tying it around her waist, she made her bed before heading to her dresser.

  Thoughts of Simon danced in her head as she put on a fresh, dark green sweater and pants. She didn’t want to wear a dress again today. It had been awkward the previous day.

  The green sweater was long and fit her nicely. She pulled her hair back, realizing yesterday it had been a mess and felt a slight tug of her ribs. Relieved the pain wasn't worse, she concentrated on taming her hair into a pony-tail instead of a bun.

  Getting through today was going to be difficult. Facing her stepbrother and stepsister after father and Simon left made a tight ball form in her throat.

  “Maybe they’ll forget about yesterday with father leaving,” she told her reflection. “Yeah, that isn’t going to happen.” She shook her head.

  Deep breath, small twinge at her side, Cassie could tell she'd be sore for a few days and still had bruises, but she also knew it could have been much worse. She'd made it out of the cellar alive at least.

  Prepared for the day, Cassie exited her room to a very quiet house. She heard a faint rustle in the distance. Her father was stirring about in the kitchen, she was sure.