Bravely(28)

Where was Hubert?

“No talking once the candle is out,” Mistress mac Lagan reminded Merida as she trudged back to her room. Then, as always, “You will grow to like this schedule.”

She didn’t seem to care that she had said it the night before, and the night before that.

No more, thought Merida.

This time, as a heavy-eyed Leezie stumbled toward her bed a few minutes later, Merida snatched her sleeve to stop her. She stood with her in the middle of the room, listening to the shuffling of the footsteps in the hall and all the doors closing. The candle in Leezie’s hand died down to nearly a wick.

Finally, when Ardbarrach had fallen quiet, Merida said, “I hate it here.”

“Yes,” Leezie whispered back, relieved. “I feel like I’m a cow. A cow in a line. Not a nice cow life. One of those cows that—”

There were footsteps outside the door; both girls went still until they’d passed.

Merida whispered, “I think I will go mad if I hear that bell one more time.”

“I haven’t been dreaming and I haven’t had any time to set up a shrine or anything,” Leezie said, then added thoughtfully, “I haven’t even had time to cry. It’s been ages since I’ve had a good long one.”

Merida saw about as much appeal in this as daydreaming about marriage, but that was just Leezie for you. And this was just Merida: “We’re leaving.”

“Tonight?”

“No, we’d freeze. And we need Hubert and the others.” Just saying it out loud was a relief. Tomorrow would be different. Finally. By tomorrow night, they would all be back in DunBroch. And maybe, just maybe, the difference between this place and home would already have been enough to permanently set Hubert on a new path.

Leezie whispered dubiously, “Will they let us leave?”

Merida said, “We’re not prisoners. Tomorrow morning, we get Hubert and we go.”





IT SEEMED very important to stay ahead of the bells.

This was a diplomatic mission, so Merida couldn’t leave under bad circumstances. She had arrived as princess of DunBroch and she had to leave as princess of DunBroch, even if Mistress mac Lagan didn’t think that meant anything. This could not be a bitter escape; it had to be a polite farewell. Courtly. Intentional.

Merida woke even before the first gray light began to illuminate the room. She woke Leezie, knowing she’d have to wake her again, and then tipped up her mattress to retrieve the things she’d hidden there after the first day. She gratefully replaced the dark Ardbarrach dress with her DunBroch green one and tucked the little bear up into her sleeve. Her mother had always insisted she travel with a threaded needle stabbed through the hem of her dress, and even though Merida had scoffed at the time (who needs to do emergency embroidery!) she used it now to quickly restitch the coins and brooch into her skirt. The bow and quiver she strung over her shoulder. Mistress mac Lagan wouldn’t have approved of it as a ladylike accessory, but some things Merida wouldn’t compromise on.

Then she woke Leezie again. “Leezie, get up. We have to do our hair before the bells.”

The hair, the hair! Most noble households thought it appropriate for a woman to simply cover her head with a veil or wimple when out in public, but in Ardbarrach they took the most severe view, identical to the convent Merida had stayed in. Not a single lock of hair was meant to be visible beside a lady’s face. It had to all be braided neatly and hidden away under austere pinned layers of cloth.

Be royal, be royal, Merida thought.

“Ow,” Leezie complained.

“Have you been storing mice in your hair?” Merida muttered, leaning in close to finish tucking the last of Leezie’s hair beneath the veil. It was tricky to see how well she’d done the job in the weak gray light, but surely it was sufficient. In any case, she didn’t dare invest any more time, lest the bells ring and the two of them had to explain themselves to Mistress mac Lagan. “It’s done. Finally. Let’s go.”

At the door, Merida turned to find Leezie at the window rather than at her heels. “Leezie!”

“Wait!” Leezie said. She had saved a bit of bread from last night’s dinner, and now she threw it out the window. When she saw Merida’s bewildered expression, she explained, “An offering for Lugh, for good favor!”

That was just Leezie, too. A ritual or god or religion for all occasions. Merida wasn’t sure what or who Lugh was, but she supposed she’d take all the good favor they could get.

They crept out of their room.

The bells had not yet rung.

It was barely light enough to see their way down the still corridor; the circular stair down to the courtyard level was pitch black. Merida ran her palms along the stone wall as they circled down, and Leezie held a handful of Merida’s dress in order to follow close behind. Merida was reminded of sneaking through DunBroch’s secret passages in her youth. She suddenly thought it seemed like an incredible omission to have never shown them to Leezie, to have kept them to herself. But Leezie was too old for such things now, surely, and so was Merida. She and Merida weren’t children anymore; they were turning into women, and the existence of secret passages meant something different, something having to do with hiding during shocking visits from people like Wolftail, not spending long rainy spring mornings playing hide-and-seek.