Rachel Starr Thomson

It’s been a while since I posted some of my own work as a passage, so this week I’m featuring an excerpt from Taerith — one of my later books and my contribution to The Romany Epistles. In this scene from Chapter Four, Lilia prepares for her wedding to a king she does not know, her thoughts conflicted and searching for hope.

Beyond the fields around the castle the dark fens lay, blotting out the landscape for miles around, criss-crossed by roads that were torn from the swamps and upheld by hard labour and pain. Farther away, Lilia could see the beginnings of the moors, and there, glinting under the sun’s searching rays, the river. Grey-blue eyes appeared before her face: Taerith’s eyes. She shuddered and turned from the window. There was a bed in the tower room; she made her way to it, and sat with her head bowed so that she need neither look at the world without or her reflection within. She feared herself just now.

A sharp rap at the door put Lilia’s heart in her throat. She rose, smoothing her skirt with trembling hands. A thousand nights at home she had dreamed of a knock at the door and all that it could mean: the mysterious strangers, the legion of adventures that might ever wait on the other side. But the servant who entered, head bowed and voice mumbling and low, carried with her nothing of promise.

“You are wanted below, my lady,” the servant said.

Lilia smiled at the woman, hiding her feelings as best as she could so the servant wouldn’t feel uncomfortable. “Let me follow you,” Lilia said. “If I try to find my way alone I will be lost.”

The woman lifted her eyes to Lilia’s face for a moment, but no emotion in them responded to the plea in the young woman’s tone. She simply nodded and turned to go. Lilia squared her slim shoulders, picked up the hem of her dress, and began her descent from the tower.

Steep stone steps led downward in a sharp spiral, a close, colourless passageway that existed only to transfer travelers from one little world to another. Lilia had often thought of such passages that they did not have any claim themselves to placehood. They led to places full of memories, warmth or cold, horror or happiness, but they were only stretches of grey limbo without sympathy or character. But into what very different worlds they might lead! Her hand trembled as she reached out to steady herself on the stone. The servant woman did not look backward at her. Lilia had hoped that the woman’s presence would make her feel a little less alone, but her hopes were as futile as the spiraling stairs were unflinching.

The descent took them down to the realm of celebration. From somewhere below Lilia heard shouts and cheers. Her cheeks coloured–she heard Annar’s name in the chorus. He had presented himself to his people. She would be next.

The noise grew louder with every downward step. She felt faint, and tried to calm the fluttering in her stomach by smoothing the satin of her gown over it. At last they were plunged into it; they were on a level with the crowd; the new world was just on the other side of a wooden door. Lilia closed her eyes, drew a deep breath, and heard the creak of the hinges as the servant woman threw the door open. She stepped out into the open air, under the shadow of an awning.

Immediately the old woman was replaced by new attendants, young and fair, with their arms full of yellow blooms and their cheeks flushed and rosy. In their midst Lilia looked like a pale slender flower grown from the frost. The crowd hushed as she stepped out from the shade of the castle into the cold winter sun. They had formed a close-packed circle around a polished platform, built by the king’s men at the entrance to the small chapel in one corner of the courtyard. The crowd filled the courtyard to its very edges. Young boys perched in the few trees that graced the ground, weighing down the branches like an awkward flock of adolescent cranes. Others had climbed the steps that led up to the castle wall, and used the stairs as precarious seats while guards patrolled the parapet above them. The rich stood nearest the platform, with military men and representatives of Mother Church, while the poorest tried to worm their way closer. Many stood outside of the castle walls altogether, and crowded the road.

You can read all of Taerith online at this link. Enjoy!

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