“Well, I’m looking forward to seeing it. You must be. You must be ready to go home.”
Austra lifted her shoulders diffidently. “I’m not sure what home is now,” she said. “Everything’s changed. I don’t know if there will be a place for me anymore.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean I don’t know if Anne will still want me as her maid.”
“Maid?”
She looked surprised. “Didn’t you know?”
“I didn’t. I thought you were cousins or friends.”
“Well, we were friends.”
He glanced back at Anne and lowered his voice. “I’ve noticed you two haven’t been very friendly lately.”
“We had a fight on the ship,” Austra admitted. “I said some things I shouldn’t have.”
“Well, you’ve known her for longer than I have,” Cazio said, “but she isn’t the easiest person in the world to get along with.”
“She used to be, to me,” Austra said.
“But something’s changed.”
“Yes. She’s changed. Something’s happened to her, and she won’t tell me what.”
Cazio tugged at the mule, who seemed interested in something on the side of the road. “Well,” he said, “you tell me her father and sisters were killed, and someone’s making a pretty good effort to kill her, too. That’s probably had a bit of an effect.”
“Of course. But it’s more than that.”
“Well, I’m sure you two will make up soon,” Cazio said. “Or at least I hope so. I hate to see such long faces.”
They went another few steps in silence. “I’m glad you’re here, Cazio,” she said. “Anne is the only friend I ever really had.”
“I hope I’m your friend,” he said.
“You feel like a friend,” Austra replied. “But not like Anne.”
“No? What sort of friend am I, then?”
“The sort I rarely even dared to imagine,” she replied.
Feeling strange and oddly guilty, he slipped his hand into hers.
Malconio was right. His interest had always been in Anne, though what drove him crazy about that was that he couldn’t exactly say why. But Anne was difficult. She still thought she was in love with this Roderick fellow. He’d thought by showing Austra some attention, he might get Anne to look his way—a lot of women were like that. At times he thought he might be succeeding. At others he felt he was wasting his time.
But meanwhile he had succeeded all too well with Austra. There was no mistaking her affection.
To his surprise, he realized he was genuinely starting to return it. She was kind and intelligent, and in her own way every bit as pretty as Anne. Oddly, every time he looked at her, she seemed prettier. Austra was the sort of girl you wanted to hold and comfort, and tell everything would be all right.
But he still wanted Anne.
A little after noon, they reached the great Vitellian way which was, finally, a real road, wide enough for carriages. One passed them, and Anne watched it go by longingly. She and Austra had traveled to Vitellio in such a carriage, with all the luxuries she had grown up expecting.
Now she was returning home with an ass.
There was one way the two journeys were similar—Austra hadn’t been talking to her much in the carriage, either. She had been punishing her for trying to run away. That argument had been fixed with a promise. She didn’t think this silence could be so easily broken.
Austra had Cazio now, anyway. The two of them had been holding hands all day.
They stayed that night in a barn just outside of Pacre. The farmer spoke a little king’s tongue, and told them they would be crossing into Hornladh soon. Her heart quickened a little at that, and she asked him if he knew where Dunmrogh was. He said it was in the east, but wasn’t sure of the way.
That night she lay awake, feeling guilty for not thinking of Roderick more. She knew she loved him, but so much had been happening.
Deep down, she knew it was more. Cazio had planted doubts about Roderick, and though she knew he was wrong, she couldn’t get them completely out of her mind. She needed to see him again. Was he in Eslen or back home in Dunmrogh?
Perhaps when they reached Paldh, she could find a courier to carry word to Dunmrogh that she was coming home.
The next day, the fields gave way to expansive vineyards that ran over the hills all the way to the horizon. Anne remembered them from their trip in the carriage—she remembered that she had never imagined there were so many grapes in the entire world.
She glanced over at Austra, who for once wasn’t walking twenty yards ahead of her.
“The Teremene River must be up ahead,” Anne ventured. “If I remember from your journal.”
“I think you’re right,” Austra said.
“That was clever of you,” Anne went on, “keeping that journal. At least we know where we are. How many days do you think we are from Eslen?”
“It was five days by carriage,” Austra said. “But we didn’t travel all day, and we spent two nights in Paldh.”
“Six days, then, or seven do you think, if we press hard?”
“That might be right,” Austra allowed.
Anne bit her lip. “Are we going to continue like this?” she asked. “Not talking?”
“We’re talking,” Austra said.
“You know what I mean.”
Austra sighed and nodded. “It’s just—I still love you, Anne, but sometimes I think you can’t love me.”
“That’s nonsense,” Anne said. “You’re my best friend. You’ve always been my best friend. And I still need you.”
“It just hurts, the way you keep shutting me out.”
“I know,” Anne said.
“But you aren’t going to stop.”
Anne sighed. “Let me think about it. But can we call a truce for the time being?”
“We aren’t at war.”
“Well, I’m glad to hear that,” Anne said, trying to sound bright.
They chatted after that, speculating about how things would be in Eslen. It wasn’t as comfortable as it once had been, but it was better than the silence.
After about a bell, Austra asked for a break so she could answer the call of nature.
“I’ll join you,” Anne said. “The morning wine’s gone straight through me.”
Cazio and z’Acatto took the opportunity to sit. “Take your time,” Cazio said. “The ass needs a rest.”
The two girls strolled up a hill through long rows of grapevines, until they couldn’t see the men anymore. Anne wished it was the season for grapes—the dried fish and hard bread they’d purchased with her hair hadn’t been good to start with, and she was really sick of it now.
“What’s that down there?” Austra asked, when they’d finished what they climbed the hill to do.
Anne peered in the direction the other girl was pointing. The hill sloped down away from where they had left the men, to form a little valley between it and the next hill. A line of willows marked a stream, but before the stream there was what first appeared to be an irregular wall of red brick. Then she saw there was more to it.
“It looks like some sort of ruin,” Anne said.
“Can we get a closer look?” Austra asked.
Anne didn’t really feel like it—she had had enough of explorations and adventures to last a lifetime. But Austra was talking to her again.
“A small look,” she granted. “We shouldn’t delay too long.” They made their way down the hill. The formal vines ended halfway down and picked up on the next hill, but the valley was unruly, grown up with wild vines, brush, and bushes. The ground was littered with bricks.
“It must have been a castle, or a mansion,” Austra said, when they drew nearer.
Anne nodded in agreement. Grapevines concealed most of the structure. One wall still stood higher than their heads—the rest had crumbled almost to the foundations. Still, they could see the outlines of the rooms that had been there, and it had been a house of considerable size.
Now that they were down here, it was also apparent that there were more buildings, or what had once been buildings. Yet there was something odd about them. Even in ruin, there was something familiar.