Cursed by Bandits (Once Upon A Curse)

2. Chapter Two

Chapter Two

I shuffled back to my dormitory, the only thought in my head that soon, very soon, I would be off my aching feet and asleep, even if it was only for a few hours. The dance had gone into the wee hours of the morning, and I was having too much fun to even contemplate leaving. Which was why I was now looking at a pre-dawn sky, already dreading waking up despite the fact I had yet to go to sleep or even lay down in my bed.

After an interminable amount of time, I was standing in front of my door. I leaned forward, resting my head on the wooden surface and contemplated whether or not I could sleep in this position, but thought better of it and pushed the lever down.

The door whined as it swung open and I stumbled across the threshold. I unlaced my tunic dress and pulled it over my head. Panic set in as I was briefly stuck, arms up as if I was surrendering, the tunic encapsulating my head. I wriggled until I was free and fell into bed, out of breath from all the struggling.

I lay there with thoughts of tomorrow and the trek home drifting through my mind. My eyes fluttered shut, and I fell into a deep slumber.

What felt like moments later, there was pounding. Loud, vicious pounding. I rolled over, covering my head with the pillow, hoping that would make the awful noise go away.

It didn’t.

“Rowan! Get your lazy ass out of bed! It’s time to go,” Jane hollered, her words followed by more banging on the door.

I winced and attempted to force my eyes open. When that didn’t work, I rubbed the sleep away. Pushing myself up, I peeked out, squinting when the bright light hit my face. I flopped back onto my bed with a sigh.

Thud !

The door swung open. Jane stood in the doorway, hands on her hips. She reminded me of my nanny growing up. That woman also was annoyed by my inability to get out of bed at a reasonable hour. She constantly told me how I would never be a good wife because I was lazy. I didn’t have the heart to tell her becoming a wife was not one of my life goals.

“Okay, Rowan, I have a bucket of water in my hand, and if you don’t get out of bed right now, it’s going to end up on you.”

I didn’t hear the slosh of water. Jane was bluffing. There was no way she was going to dump water on my bed and on me. After my perfectly reasonable calculations, I burrowed deeper. I needed more sleep.

Sploosh .

Cold, that’s what I felt first, so much cold.

Then wet.

I sat up.

My hair clung to my face.

Water dripped down my forehead, my back, my chest and pooled around my thighs.

I spluttered, only sounds came out of my mouth as I was not coherent enough to put together a complete sentence.

I could hear the dripping of water as it soaked through the mattress and trickled on to the floor .

I stood, trying to get away from the cold and the wet. Water sloshed out of my bed and on to the floor as I shifted my weight.

“I can’t believe you did that!” I pushed my hair off my face and the water from my shift and hair caused the puddle on the floor to expand.

“Really? You’re surprised? That seems like a ‘you’ problem since my warning was quite concise.” Jane crossed her arms.

“I didn’t think you would actually do it.” I wrung my hair out and started to braid it. “My bags are packed and I just need to change out of this wet shift.”

“I’ll meet you by the carriage in five minutes. Do not get back in bed,” Jane hollered as she slammed the door to my room.

How could I? The bed was a disaster.

It didn’t take me long to throw on my clothes and braid my red hair into two long braids, my wet bangs pinned back because I didn’t want to put up with them while sitting in the carriage all day long .

“I was about to get you,” Jane said. “I couldn’t figure out how you fell asleep in a sopping wet bed. But knowing you, you could probably do just that.”

“Ha! There’s no way I could fall asleep in a puddle of water.” I shuddered. “I don’t even enjoy swimming.”

Jane chuckled. “Like that would stop you from sleeping.”

I looked at her, eyebrow raised, then shrugged. “You’re probably right.”

The carriage, a resplendent vision of shiny black lacquered wood adorned with elegant gold accents, waited in front of my room, promising a journey in opulence. The luggage was meticulously strapped down, ready for the lengthy trip. Swinging the carriage door open, I hopped in. I stuck my head through the velvet curtains, eager for the journey to begin now that I was awake and not surrounded by the comforts of a bed. “What’s taking you so long? We should have left a long time ago.”

The look Jane shot me would have caused a lesser woman to take back their words. I, however, couldn’t stop myself from throwing back my head with what could only be described as bellowing laughter.

“You’re a pain in the ass. You know that, right?” Jane hiked up her heavy skirts to climb up with me, sliding across the red leather seat to settle herself in the corner of the carriage.

I kicked my legs up on to the seat next to her, smirking. “But that’s why you love me, right?”

“Do I have a choice?” she asked. Her eyes twinkled mischievously.

“Before the Incident, you might have, but now? You’re stuck with me.” I lifted my hands behind my head and laced my fingers together, ready for the long day ahead.

At least the carriage was well-appointed, with its padded leather seats and velvet-lined walls. We were travelling in the very definition of luxury. Something neither of us was used to after our stay at the nunnery. I was surprised my father owned such a glitzy carriage. It really didn’t seem like his style.

“This is—nice.” Her eyes were wide.

Her shock didn’t surprise me. I had a tendency to talk—a lot—especially about my father. He was the type of nobility I aspired to be.

“I can’t wait to show you around Lockersley. Especially the keep. Just imagine walking down a hundred and sixty steps, which takes you to a beach, then climbing back up a hundred and sixty steps to get to the castle gate. Now you’re way above the ocean and you can enjoy watching the waves come and go for hours on end .

“On the top of the cliff is the stone village where I grew up. There’s the castle with the great hall and all our bedrooms, but we have so much else there. Not just the castle and church. There’s a blacksmith and all our horses, the barracks, the dressmakers, and so much more. On the other side of the stairs are woods and a village with my favorite shopkeeps. You’re going to love it.” I clapped my hands together, unable to contain my excited, anxious energy. I had been gone for so long I was worried it wasn’t going to be anything like I remembered.

“I know, Rowan. You’ve told me about this paradise you call home so many times I decided to go with you.” She nudged my leg with her knee.

“I’m sorry, I can’t help it. I’ve missed it so much.” I swayed with the carriage, the motion reminding me of the gentle rocking of a baby’s crib. It could send me to sleep. No matter what I tried to do, from watching the scenery parade by, to taking in the splendid transportation, none of it worked. It wasn’t long before I started to drift off to dreamland.

The last thing I heard was Jane: “Of course you’re falling asleep. Why would I expect anything different?”

The carriage jolted to the side. My feet thudded to the carriage floor and my head collided with the unforgiving side wall. The sudden movement abruptly roused me from my slumber, snapping me back to consciousness. The wheels of the carriage seemed to insist on hitting every bump and rut in the road, causing the vehicle to creak and groan while the clop of the horse’s hooves intruded into the space.

My head throbbed to the rhythmic sound of the horses. I rubbed it where it had come into the unwelcome contact with the wall. As I sat, Jane’s composed figure greeted me.

“I was wondering if there was anything that would wake you up.” Jane smoothed her dress over her knees, and a hint of amusement laced her tone. “I thought you said the roads to Lockersley were well maintained. This feels like we’re in for a wild ride.”

Sleep clung to me, making it difficult to respond to my friend. I opened the curtain and stuck my head outside. We were in my hometown, but it was nothing like I remembered.

Six years ago, the town vibrated with energy. Everything was well maintained. I had never been anywhere else like it. Now it looked rundown. The once-vibrant homes looked dismal with peeling paint. The straw roofs sagged, and the flower boxes sat empty. The people that were out and about barely glanced at the carriage, focused more on their work. Their slumped shoulders and tired eyes made everyone look so . . . sad. The sadness had weaved its way through everything from the uneven road to the tired buildings and dying gardens. In the center of town, shop signs hung by one ring, their creaking the only reminder of the once-bustling marketplace. I didn’t see any food stalls, the general store was empty, and the tavern looked like wild animals inhabited it.

“Stop the carriage.” I jumped out before the vehicle came to a complete stop. “This is wrong—so very wrong.” A lump formed in my throat as I surveyed the desolation. The lively town of my childhood, the place I had gone on and on about to Jane for six years, was nowhere to be seen. Replaced by something I didn’t recognize. What had happened to my home?

Movement out of the corner of my eye caught my attention. A friar walked to the town church. I ran after him as rain pelted the ground, and the smell of water hitting dry dirt filled my nose.

“Friar!” I yelled after him .

He kept his head down and continued on the path to the church.

Catching up with him, I grabbed his arm. “Friar, please, can you take a moment to answer some questions?”

He looked up at me, his brown eyes dejected.

“Tuck?” I couldn’t believe my eyes. Everything about my old friend looked tired, from his eyes to his brown skin and gaunt cheeks.

“Rowan?” His only movement was to look at where I held his arm.

I let go immediately. “It’s me.”

“It’s about time you left that fancy school of yours and came home. We can’t afford to pay for you to be there for another year.” Tuck’s tone was as sharp as his words.

I didn’t understand. Pay for my schooling? “What do you mean? The nuns never charged anything extra, only what my father paid when he enrolled me.” It’s why I always helped with dinner and any other chores, including thatching roofs, fixing doors, building furniture, and planting gardens. There was no way the town had paid for my time at the nunnery.

I reached towards my friend again, only for him to take a step back. My arm fell, rejected.

Tuck scoffed. “That’s not what your uncle has been telling us. ”

“My uncle? What does he have to do with any of this?” My eyes were wide with confusion. My father and his brother, Jonathan, never got along. “Why is he saying anything about me or my schooling?”

Tuck looked at me, like really looked at me for the first time. “You don’t know?”

“Know what?” Dread caused the blood to drain from my face.

“Your father, he’s dead. Some believe he was murdered.”

Thoughts jumbled in my brain. Putting together a coherent thought, much less a sentence, was beyond me. I sank to the ground. My father was my hero. How could he be gone, dead— murdered ? “When—how—why?”

“Rowan, what happened? You’re as white as a ghost,” Jane asked as she walked up to us.

The hostility I had felt from him before was gone, and Tuck sat next to me on the cold earth. “It was about six months ago. I’m surprised no one told you.”

“Six months . . .” I trailed off, clutching my stomach as if that would keep the grief from overcoming me. I turned towards Jane. “Did you know?”

“How would I know? And why would I keep it from you?” Her tone was soft but firm.

“You’re right. I don’t know what I was thinking.” My eyes burned and the dreary town blurred in front of me. “I need to go . . . somewhere . . . not the middle of the road.”

Tuck stood, offering me his hand. “I have just the place.”

I took his hand and followed him without thought, the sound of crunching gravel the only indication that Jane followed.