#hopefully fate will take me to another hidden gem like this soon... for now ill continue my reread

[just-spacetrash]

📖

[illuminating-dragons]

Dancing With A Dream

Summary:  Ten years before the events of 'Have Fun Storming the Castle', Maria Montoya begins her search for the six-fingered man. But before she can begin, she meets a woman that she's known all her life.

            Maria Montoya was twenty-two, and she hadn’t yet lost hope.

            To look at her you would never guess that ten years ago she was a poor child in Spain. Now her clothes were neat and well fitted, there was gold in her purse and she carried a fortune in steel in her sword. Her hair was tied back in a    tight bun, her eyes were clear, and she was fit and healthy.

            You had to be when you’d spent ten years learning how to fence.

            Maria had finally run out of people to learn from, after crossing the ocean twice (you have to in order to get back where you started). Three weeks ago, she’d left Spain for the last time, after visiting her father’s friend Yeste.

            “You’ve spent ten years learning how to fence?!” Yeste asked, baffled. “And for what, to kill a killer? Molly—”

            “Maria.”

            “Maria. Your father doesn’t…there is no need for this. I am sure that he is proud of you, and that you will find peace as he has.”    

            “He cannot be at peace until his murderer is dead.” Maria refused to listen to any protests. “I cannot say how I know this, Yeste. There has been no sign, no dream. Yet I know my father is not resting. Not yet. I have to beat the six-fingered man. I have to kill him.”

            Yeste sighed. “You are as stubborn as your mother, you know that?”

            “No. I have no memory of her.”

            Yeste coughed. “Of course, she died when you were born. Forgive me; these past years have not been kind.”

            Maria looked around, saw the empty bottles, and said nothing.

            “Your mother was a very strong woman,” Yeste went on. “And she used her stubbornness to conceal any weaknesses. That’s part of why your father fell in love with her in the first place.”

            “Then this will honour my mother, as well as my father,” Maria decided. “Test me, Yeste. Test me, and see if I am ready.”

            That day Yeste, who was once a judge for fencing before he began to make swords (not as good as her father, but well enough), called her a wizard. It was the highest ranking, achieved only by another fencer by the name of Inigo, who’d died many years before.

            “You could never have beaten him,” Yeste told her. “But he would never have beaten you.”

            Once he was sure she wouldn’t stay, Yeste was as supportive as he’d always been. He packed her a bag full of lightweight jewels, got the tailors in town to teach her how to make clothes perfect for fencing, and finally gave her a hint of where to start.

            “I did meet the six-fingered man,” Yeste said with a grimace. “I rue the day I ever gave him directions to your home. His accent wasn’t from around here, as you may remember. I believe they speak that way to the northeast.”

            So Maria exchanged one of the gems for coin, bought passage on a ship, and sailed to Guilder.

            Guilder was warmer than she’d imagined; the soft summer breeze took the edge off the burning heat. It was also quite a bit larger, and Maria couldn’t afford a horse. It wasn’t a problem—she’d run daily for the last ten years, and she could cross between the different noble homes quite easily.

            She was full of hope—it wasn’t likely that she would get the six-fingered man her first try, but all she needed was a lead. Nobles were close, weren’t they? They would know who she was seeking, and even if they lied she would still find something out. Soon she’d spoken to every nobleman’s servant (and several nobles who actually wanted to speak to the only living fencing wizard), and there was nothing, not a whisper. One servant suggested that she go to France; that’s where she would get the best gossip. Another argued that she should go to Florin first. “You can get to France from there just as easily. Besides, everyone knows that Florinese people are insane.”

            Just a quick word from me, the author. Yes, I know, some of you are screaming about why Maria didn’t find Count Magnussen then, if she went to Florin. In a horrible twist of fate, Count Magnussen was on his honeymoon with his very patient and long-suffering wife, far away in Spain. He wouldn’t return for another six months (honeymoons can be as long as you want if you have no restrictions), by which time Maria was already gone. Besides, he didn’t rise to power until just before John left Sherlock. Before that, he was a simple Count who lived in one of the most remote places in Florin, and he kept his sixth finger hidden as much as possible. Alright, I’ll stop chiming in.

            So Maria decided to sail to Florin, but the next boat wasn’t coming for four days. Until then, Maria decided to sleep in trees as often as possible. She felt no discomfort from them, especially with her new long cloak (strictly for warmth, not for fencing—you could be shredded that way). And trees, unlike inns, were free.

            One morning she awoke to the feeling she was being watched. Peering down, Maria saw a woman with a plain brown dress and braided dark hair staring up at her.

            Maria leapt down from the tree, somersaulting on the way down. She straightened, bowed, and said, “I cannot marry you.”

            “Good lady, have we met?” the woman asked, her brow furrowing. “I don’t believe so. Why on Earth would we marry?”

            So Maria explained. About how when she was younger and training, she had no friends because she was always travelling. So she’d made up a girl, a friend who understood everything and who kept her company the many nights bruises and guilt kept her awake. And as Maria got older, the girl was no longer her friend, but her companion, and they slept in each other’s arms.

            “So you have been dreaming about a girl for ten years?”

            “And she looks a lot like you. And I must find the six-fingered man, and so I must keep moving, and I cannot marry you.”

            “You are mad,” the woman said. “You have no chance to win my heart.” She walked away. Maria watched her go, and then shrugged. She turned back to the tree and climbed up to retrieve her sword. If she was going to stay here for a few days (and she had to wait for the boat, so she was), she still needed to practice.

            After a long day of fencing with shadows and running up and down the hills, Maria went to sleep under a new moon in a new tree. She woke before dawn, because someone was shaking her. It was the woman from the day before.

            “What’s happened?” Maria asked drowsily. For a moment she thought she was still dreaming, but no…her lady wore her hair loose.

            “Where exactly were we living, in this fantasy of yours? In trees like this one?” The woman shook her head. “You have no chance of winning my heart.”

            “Can I at least know your name?” Maria asked.

            “My name is Jan,” the woman said. “And yours?”

            “Maria. Maria Montoya. Come here, you must be tired.”

            “I have to go to work,” Jan answered. She let go of the branch. “My work begins soon in the castle.”

            It was too dark to watch Jan leave, and Maria was grateful. Her head felt strange; a buzzing sound seemed to ring in her ears.

            That mystery was solved a moment later, when Maria noticed the wasp’s nest dangling above her. But even when she leapt out of the tree and made for a different one, she still felt odd. Her arms and legs felt weaker than they should, and her chest ached.

            She must be getting ill. That was all. Maria decided she would sleep later, and hopefully the pain would be gone.

            When Maria got up, it was nearly noon. She took a long bath in the river nearby, letting the warm river water soothe the aches in her joints. After another long run and some hot tea, she felt much better, but the ache returned the moment she decided not to sleep in a tree that night. The thought that Jan could find me more easily seemed to set off the ache, and although she tossed and turned, Maria didn’t fall asleep until the moon was nearly set.

            She was awoken by Jan once again, first thing in the morning. “And where would I be, in this life you’ve dreamed for us? I cannot fence—should I take up dancing so we can earn coin? It’s just foolish. You have so little chance of winning my heart it’s not funny.”

            “I leave tomorrow,” Maria answered. “I will not bother you anymore, Jan.” Not that she’d really been bothering Jan at all; if anything, it was the other way around. But Maria knew how to be kind.

            Jan sucked in a deep breath of surprise. “So you haven’t found the six-fingered man?”

            “No. I’m going to Florin tomorrow afternoon, and I hope to find some information there. Who knows, I might even find the man himself.”

            “Why does this mean so much to you?” Jan asked. “Who is he?”

            “He murdered my father,” Maria answered. “And he stole my name.” She told Jan the whole story. The woman played with her braids as Maria spoke, but Maria knew she was listening intently.

            “I hope that you find him,” Jan said sincerely. “Are you very good with your blade?”

            “I am a wizard,” Maria said simply. “Would you like to see?”

            If you didn’t know Maria, you might call what she did showing off; pulling out every trick she had, every fancy maneuver. But she wasn’t really showing off—she just wanted to show Jan what she could do. When she stopped she was breathing hard, and Jan was watching with wide eyes.

            “Did I scare you?” Maria asked, worried.

            “Not at all. Wizard, indeed.” Jan gulped. “Maria, I want to show you something tonight, before you go. Will you come to the castle, after dark? I can get you in.”

            “I would love to,” Maria said. “But won’t you get in trouble?”

            “Not if we’re careful. Meet me at the gazebo; it’s past the gates and up the hill.” Without another word, Jan picked up her plain blue skirt and dashed off.

            Maria was puzzled, but she didn’t dwell on it. The boat wasn’t leaving until later tomorrow, and she had nothing better to do.

            Maria walked into the sunset a few hours later, up the hill to the castle. It was a very different castle from the ones that she’d seen in Spain—those were tall, pointy buildings with a few windows. This castle was very different—the structure rose and fell with the land around it, and it was short; perhaps only three floors high, and built of solid rock. There were plenty of torches, and several guards, but they didn’t seem to notice Maria as she wove between the flower beds up the hill.

            When she got to the top she was surprised to hear music begin to play. It was a soft violin, with a flute playing just under it. The gazebo was lit up with soft lights in coloured lanterns. There was a table with elegant food, and Jan stood in the middle, in front of the musicians.

            Only this wasn’t the Jan that Maria had seen only that morning. This Jan had her hair down, and it fell tumbling past her shoulders. Gone was her plain dress; in its place was a delicate lilac dress with gold embroidery. A golden tiara was perched on top of her head.

            “What is this?” Maria whispered. “Jan…”

            “I may have…I may have told some stories that weren’t entirely true,” Jan admitted.

            Maria turned.

            “Please don’t leave!” Jan begged.

            “Who are you?” Maria asked, spinning around angrily. “You played me for a fool.”

            “No, I promise, I didn’t mean to.” Jan came forward, her hands outstretched. “My name is Janine. I am—”

            “The Crown Princess of Guilder.” Maria swore under her breath. What a fool she was. “Not the most complicated pseudonym, Princess.”

            “I was distracted.” Janine smoothed her skirts down. “Yes, I am the Princess. But I want to know my people, and so I dress as a commoner. You would be surprised how different I look when I am in full ceremonial dress, and that is the only time people see me. But then I saw you in the tree, and you told me that story, the story of knowing me. And you had my heart from that moment, because you spoke so kindly and so truly. I tried to resist because I know that you have a quest and it is important—I didn’t even understand how important until today. But I have feelings for you, Maria Montoya, and I wanted to say a proper goodbye. This is the whole evening; we are the only guests. And I want to make sure that you remember me, so that if you want, when you’re finished…you might want to come back.”

            Maria’s throat was dry. “I truly cannot marry you,” she whispered. “I have no idea how long this will take. And I won’t take your promise from you—”

            “You aren’t taking it,” Janine interrupted. “I’m giving it, of my own free will. I have never met a woman or a man I wanted to wed, Maria. But I would marry you tomorrow if I could.” She gestured to the table. “For now, may I spend time with you?”

            It was a beautiful evening. Janine insisted that Maria sit on her lap, and they fed each other the best food Maria had ever tasted, from the tiny flavourful crackers to the last bites of chocolate cake. When they could eat no more, Maria stood and offered her hands to Janine. “May I dance with you, Janine?”

            They danced together in the gazebo, and the musicians followed their footsteps, sending pure beauty into every simple song. Maria danced with the grace of a fencer and Janine danced with the practice of a Princess, but neither of them cared about skill. It was about moving together, being together, holding each other in their arms. And Maria kissed Janine’s hair and her neck and her beautiful mouth, and held her as close as she could.

            It was after midnight when Janine shooed away the musicians, and took Maria’s hands. “Come with me.”

            Maria followed Janine down the other side of the hill, and was startled to see several large trees with ropes hanging from them.

            “I’m not very good at climbing trees in a dress,” Janine explained. “And mother doesn’t like for me to be in the gardens without wearing a dress. It’s a ridiculous rule, isn’t it?”

            Maria hesitated at the foot of the tree. Part of her longed to stay on the ground, to remove Janine’s dress and her clothes and give into her desire. But the boat was tomorrow afternoon, and she was still Maria. She couldn’t have sex. That was for girls who didn’t fail their fathers.

            So she helped Janine climb the tree, and the two of them settled into a wide branch with a dip just big enough for the two of them, if they lay close together. They did lie close together, curled up on top of Maria’s coat. Janine’s hand wandered over Maria’s chest for a moment, but she pulled back a second later.

            “You’ll come back, right?” she asked, her voice wobbling. “When you find the six-fingered man, will you come back and be my Molly?”

            Maria kissed her with everything she had, every promise she had left in her bones. “I will return, Jan,” she whispered. “I accept.”

            “Then when you come back, you must ask me to marry you,” Janine whispered. Maria could feel her smile as she pressed her face into Maria’s bare shoulder. “I’ve made one proposal. Turn about is fair play.”

            “I will,” Maria promised. “With the best ring I can—”

            “A ring?” Janine looked puzzled. “Is that the Spanish custom? We use bracelets in Guilder.”

            “Then I will get you a beautiful bracelet,” Maria replied. “And I will come back, I promise.”

            They did fall asleep eventually, even though sleep brought the moment of parting closer. It was long after dawn when they woke, and Maria helped Janine down. They stood together for a long moment at the base of the tree, holding onto each other, and then Maria broke away. “Farewell, Janine.”

            “Farewell, Maria.”

            Maria didn’t cry then. She didn’t cry as she walked quickly from the castle and down to the rest of the village. She didn’t even cry when she realized she only had a few silver coins left after paying for passage—she still had plenty of gems, but there was nowhere to trade for those right now. But a few silver coins bought her a bracelet with purple and green beads that would fit Janine’s wrist perfectly. Perhaps before they were married she could exchange it for a bracelet of emeralds and amethysts.

            No, Maria didn’t cry until she was on the boat, holding the bracelet in her clenched fists, and she couldn’t see the castle anymore. As the boat headed for Florin, Maria let the tears run down her cheeks. She still had hope; she was sure she would make it back to Janine, and give her the bracelet. But it would be a sore long time, and now she couldn’t even conjure her imaginary companion for company. It would be an insult to the real woman.

            Perhaps if Maria could see the future, she would have cried harder that day. If she’d known that in ten years, she would have lost hope of ever finding the six-fingered man, after crossing through every country she could reach, after her bag of gems ran out even though she’d been so careful. For a while she fenced for gold, but her failure weighed her down. No, not in skill; she would never lose that. Instead, it came from drink, first to help her sleep, then to help her make it to bedtime, then to make herself get through the afternoon, and finally, to get out of bed at all. She wouldn’t even remember it was her thirtieth birthday the day that she had nothing left, nothing but her sword and the bracelet, and she couldn’t sell either for drink. Ireni would find her that day, and get her on her feet and off the drink, into a career as a mercenary. And somehow, that career would lead her to the Count, and eventually back into Janine’s arms as her Molly.

            But Maria didn’t known any of this that day on the boat. All she knew was that her heart was broken again, when she thought it shattered completely ten years before. But at least now, she had a purpose beyond the six-fingered man. Yeste would be proud; she knew what she would do later.

            Right now, she had revenge to find.