{"id":602,"date":"2014-09-29T18:23:03","date_gmt":"2014-09-29T18:23:03","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.anngimpel.com\/?post_type=portfolio&p=602"},"modified":"2020-02-01T15:27:03","modified_gmt":"2020-02-01T23:27:03","slug":"the-oracle","status":"publish","type":"portfolio","link":"https:\/\/anngimpel.com\/?portfolio=the-oracle","title":{"rendered":"The Oracle"},"content":{"rendered":"

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\"Wolf-wolves-29803359-1024-768\"<\/h1>\n<\/header>\n
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Originally published by The Absent Willow Review in 2010<\/p>\n

\u201cCassandra! Up, you lazy slut. Up, I say. Right now.\u201d<\/p>\n

She cringed away from the rough male voice, but the expected prod in her bruised ribs from his hob-nailed boot didn\u2019t happen. He was bending closer to her, though, the cloyingly rancid odor from his unwashed body and rotting teeth almost unbearable. She buried her nose in the crook of one arm, trying to block it out.<\/p>\n

\u201cThere\u2019s people that\u2019ll be here soon. Get up. You\u2019re scarcely presentable.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI am up.\u201d She rolled over, but came up short as her manacles and chain reached their limit. She scowled at her captor. \u201cIf you cared about me being presentable, you wouldn\u2019t\u00a0tether me\u00a0.<\/p>\n

He glared right back. \u201cShooting daggers out of those green eyes won\u2019t help a bit. You\u2019re my property. Means I can treat you however I want.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAre you going to unlock me?\u201d she demanded, curling her mouth into a snarl. \u201cNot much I can do chained up like a dog.\u201d<\/p>\n

Gretch rocked back on his heels and shot an appraising glance her way. \u201cWill you promise to behave?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIf you\u2019re asking whether I\u2019m going to run away again, the answer is no.\u201d<\/p>\n

The whipping he\u2019d administered after catching her sneaking down to the riverbank, manacles and all, still bloomed bright in her mind. Iron dimmed her power. It was still there, just much harder to access. She muffled a snort. No one realized iron\u2019s potential until a misogynistic cleric in the fifteen hundreds bound witches in chains as an experiment\u2014and was delighted with the results.<\/p>\n

Her life hadn\u2019t been worth much since then. Not much at all. Inner laughter chimed bitterly. Witch trials! Hah! All they\u2019d provided was a handy excuse to hang or burn mostly-innocent women, so their falsely-devout husbands could find someone younger or prettier.<\/p>\n

Not that she was a witch, but she did hold magic within her, and the same principles applied.<\/p>\n

She eyed Gretch. \u201cThought we were in a hurry. People coming and all that.\u201d<\/p>\n

Pulling a large key from a filthy pocket, Gretch reached for her wrist. He inserted the key and tugged on the iron bracelet. Rusty hinges groaned then popped open. She rubbed her wrist and mutely held the other out for him.<\/p>\n

Gretch held onto her wrist for too long once she was free, but she knew better than to pull away. The man was a bully, and she didn\u2019t want to give him an excuse to hurt her.<\/p>\n

\u201cGet behind the wagon and wash up,\u201d he hissed. \u201cYou have straw in your hair, and your face is dirty. Don\u2019t try anything. I have sharp ears. You\u2019re mine, and don\u2019t you ever forget it.\u201d<\/p>\n

Anger surfaced, but she reined it in. She wanted to scream at him. Rake her nails down his face and tell him his entire body was riddled with lice, and he smelled so bad he turned her stomach.<\/p>\n

Bastard! How dare he complain about her being dirty? He reveled in filth. Rolled in it. Lived in it.<\/p>\n

Cassandra stumbled to her feet still rubbing her wrists. They burned from the iron manacles. When she was chained it felt as if her skin were on fire wherever the unclean metal touched her. Gold now, or silver, or even bronze. Those metals were worthy of her. But iron? Laying eyes on the bucket of sour water behind the wagon, she recoiled. Why\u2019d he have to use the same bucket he\u00a0picked up horse shit with?<\/p>\n

\u201cGretch!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYour highness?\u201d Sarcasm drizzled through his tones.<\/p>\n

He wouldn\u2019t come around the wagon unbidden. He was afraid if he saw her unclothed, she\u2019d ensorcel him, and he wasn\u2019t far wrong. That was how she\u2019d gotten away from the last two men who captured her. Once they spilled their seed in her, they were hers, and it became a simple enough matter to steal a few coins and fade away unnoticed.<\/p>\n

Maybe, just maybe, that might work here too. She\u2019d seen the bulge in his breeches as he gawked at her, lying helpless in her chains. Once she\u2019d even caught him watering the ground with his semen. Though she waited for Aphrodite to strike him down for such sacrilege, it hadn\u2019t happened.<\/p>\n

Were the old gods still there? Their responses to things seemed desultory these days. Goddess knew they hadn\u2019t answered any of her entreaties.<\/p>\n

\u201cI need clean water, Gretch. I can\u2019t wash in horse shit. How about if you take me down to the river?\u201d She held her breath. Given the choice between escorting her to the river or dumping, then refilling, the heavy bucket, she hoped he\u2019d chose the river.<\/p>\n

He might order her to wash in the fetid water and be done with it. Once when she\u2019d complained, he\u2019d upended the bucket over her head. That earned him censure from the gods in the form of a sudden lightning storm, but she was sure he didn\u2019t connect the two events.<\/p>\n

\u201cAre you decent?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, Gretch. All my clothes are still on,\u201d she replied waspishly.<\/p>\n

He poked his head around the corner of the garish wagon emblazoned with,\u00a0<\/span>Mr. Smythe\u2019s Traveling Wonders<\/em>. \u201cI\u2019ll take you to the river. If you run, I\u2019ll have the law on you for a witch, and you\u2019ll be hung. Do you understand me?\u201d Watery blue eyes looked at her through stringy black hair that fell in greasy strands around his smallpox-scarred face. He was on the short side for a man, but surprisingly strong with a wiry, fireplug build.<\/p>\n

\u201cI understand. Let\u2019s go.\u201d Cassandra pushed her heavy red hair back over her shoulders and drew herself up to her full height of close to six feet, before setting off at a brisk pace for the creek. She longed for the feel of\u00a0clean water soothing her skin, washing away iron residue that still tingled unpleasantly.<\/p>\n

\u201cThanks.\u201d She bit off the word. \u201cI give you my word I won\u2019t run.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYour word doesn\u2019t mean much.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHow could you possibly know that?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWitches always lie.\u201d<\/p>\n

She rounded on him, blocking the path. Anger raced along her nerves, hot enough to scorch silk. \u201cI am not a witch. How many times must we go through this? You advertise me as an oracle. You\u2019ve seen that at least some of the things I predict come true.\u201d<\/p>\n

And I\u2019m destined to not have anyone believe a thing that I say<\/em>, she finished silently.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo more talk, witch. I\u2019m right behind you.\u201d He crooked two fingers in the sign against evil.<\/p>\n

Shoulders sagging, she headed back down the worn path to the creek. As soon as she got to the water, she slipped out of her ill-fitting boots then slid a threadbare sweater off her shoulders.<\/p>\n

Red splotched his face, and his breathing quickened. \u201cJust wash your hands and face. Forget your body.\u201d<\/p>\n

Cassandra clutched the sides of her thin dress and turned to face him, noting his arousal with practiced eyes. \u201cYou don\u2019t have to look,\u201d she said and unbuttoned the garment slowly before slithering out of it and letting it pool on the ground at her feet.<\/p>\n

Gretch was panting now, and she turned toward the life-sustaining clean water. Wading in, she crouched in the shallows but kept her back to him. That way if he wanted to violate Aphrodite\u2019s precepts and spill himself on the ground, he could delude himself she didn\u2019t know.<\/p>\n

Cassandra cupped water in her hands and cleaned herself. The water was cool but not so cold as to create discomfort. How long since she\u2019d had a proper bath? Not since she\u2019d been with Gretch. That was certain. How long had that been, anyway? One month? No, probably closer to two, or even three.<\/p>\n

She\u2019d lived so long, she stopped keeping track of time eons ago. What wretched luck that Apollo\u2019s curse included immortality. Or had that come along with her gift of prophecy? She\u2019d never been quite certain. Not that it mattered.<\/p>\n

Another problem was\u00a0while she could see everyone else\u2019s future, her own remained stubbornly dark.<\/p>\n

She waded farther into the stream until she found a deep pool. Dropping her head back, she used sand to scrub the grease from her thick hair. It felt utterly decadent to shed the accumulated layers of grime. She sent a hasty prayer up to Demeter and heard a muffled gasp from the bank.<\/p>\n

Gretch had apparently reached his climax.<\/p>\n

She took her time rinsing the last of the sand out of her hair to give him a few minutes to get himself back together. Just to be mean, she flashed a tantalizing glimpse of one curved breast before backing out of the creek. If she could find a way to coax Aphrodite\u2019s blessing from him, she\u2019d be gone from here. And a hell of a lot more careful traveling the byways in witch-riddled New England from here on in.<\/p>\n

She cast a sultry glance over one shoulder, but he wasn\u2019t facing her anymore.\u00a0<\/span>Damn!<\/em>\u00a0<\/span>Maybe next time she could plan better. If he ever let her bathe again. Cassandra wrung water out of her hair and pulled her dirty clothes back on. At least he didn\u2019t chivvy her about hurrying. Nor did he turn around, waiting until she drew even with him to walk back to his wagon.<\/p>\n

***<\/p>\n

\u201cLadies and Gentlemen, come visit the Oracle. She never lies. Ask her what you will. She\u2019s bound by the gods to tell you nothing but the truth. Come on up. Don\u2019t be shy\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

Cassandra, her hair still damp, wore the buckskin dress with fringe and beads that Gretch forced her to don for these occasions. \u201cBut I\u2019ll look like an Indian,\u201d she\u2019d protested the first time she saw it. \u201cThey know nothing of predicting the future. Besides, it doesn\u2019t fit me. It\u2019s too small.\u201d<\/p>\n

He told her he wasn\u2019t about to spend money on material so she could make a new dress. He\u2019d shut up after that, but she plucked the rest of the tale from his mind.<\/p>\n

An exiled Pawnee squaw wandered through his camp a few months before. He had his way with her, starved and beat her, then buried her after she died. This was her dress, and Cassandra shuddered every time she put it on. The dead woman\u2019s sorrow still clung to the well-chewed leather and made the dress feel like a shroud.<\/p>\n

The crowd was smaller tonight. Maybe only twenty-five people. She glanced at them, scrying their secrets as plainly as if they\u2019d been stenciled on their foreheads. A heavily pregnant woman waddled forward, swatting at a slender twit of a man grabbing for her arm.<\/p>\n

\u201cI want to know if I\u2019m carrying a son this time,\u201d she demanded. \u201cNothing but daughters so far\u2026three of \u2019em. We\u2019ve nobody to help in the fields.\u201d She hesitated. \u201cOracle, if this,\u201d she flicked at the bulge of her belly, \u201cis another daughter. What must I do to have sons?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMay I touch you?\u201d Cassandra inquired.<\/p>\n

The woman\u2019s eyes widened, then her head jerked forward in hesitant acquiescence.<\/p>\n

Laying a gentle hand on the woman\u2019s swollen abdomen, Cassandra closed her eyes as she called to Athena, asking for her wisdom. Under her questing hand the infant rolled over in its watery home, kicking softly.<\/p>\n

The corners of Cassandra\u2019s mouth flickered upward. \u201c\u2019Tis a boy,\u201d she said. \u201cBut it will be a difficult birth. He is turned within you. You\u2019ll need a midwife. Your time will come upon you sooner than you expect. Within a fortnight. If a skilled woman isn\u2019t nearby, you\u2019ll need to travel to find one.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThank you for the news.\u201d The woman placed a coin in Cassandra\u2019s hand. \u201cThere\u2019s no need for a wise woman. You\u2019re mistaken. All my other births were quick and easy.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019d do well to heed me,\u201d Cassandra implored. \u201cIf you don\u2019t, your son will be stillborn.\u201d<\/p>\n

White showed around the woman\u2019s pupils. Her nostrils flared, and she made the sign against evil as she faded back into the crowd.<\/p>\n

Destined to speak the truth, except those who hear it won\u2019t believe me\u2026<\/em><\/p>\n

A man stepped forward. He was well-dressed, and handsome in a rakish sort of way. Brown curls framed a strong-boned face, and clear, gray eyes twinkled above several days\u2019 growth of stubble on his cheeks and chin.<\/p>\n

\u201cLouisa.\u201d He looked right at her while he called her by a name not hers. \u201cWhat on earth are you doing here, love. I\u2019ve been looking for you for months now. Please come home. The children miss you.\u201d<\/p>\n

Gretch stepped out of the shadows. \u201cYou think this woman is your mistress, sir?\u201d He sounded incredulous. \u201cShe didn\u2019t tell me she had kin anywhere. And I did ask, yes I did.\u201d<\/p>\n

The other man swung around with his hand extended and glanced at the wagon. \u201cSmythe, is it? Louisa isn\u2019t my mistress. She\u2019s my wife.\u201d He lowered his voice conspiratorially. \u201cShe has a bit of trouble now and then. Forgets who she is and wanders off.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd you are?\u201d Gretch asked disbelievingly, his rheumy blue eyes narrowed as he took in the expensive cut of the other man\u2019s clothing and his hand-tooled leather boots.<\/p>\n

\u201cCameron Tracy,\u201d the stranger replied, his hand still extended.<\/p>\n

Ignoring the proffered hand, Gretch turned toward Cassandra. \u201cDo you recognize this man?\u201d<\/p>\n

She never seen him before in the entirety of her ridiculously long life. Cassandra tried to peer inside the stranger, but for once she couldn\u2019t see a thing.<\/p>\n

Where will I be better off?<\/em>\u00a0<\/span>Ach,<\/em>\u00a0<\/span>I<\/em>\u00a0<\/span>know what I\u2019ve got here, and it\u2019s not very damn much<\/em>.<\/p>\n

\u201cCameron.\u201d She beamed warmly and threw herself into his arms. \u201cWhat a lovely surprise.\u201d<\/p>\n

Pretty close to the truth. After all, whoever he is, he\u2019s quite the surprise.<\/em><\/p>\n

Questing outward as she clasped the tall stranger, her gift ran hard against an iron wall, and she found nothing in the way of clues.<\/p>\n

What in the goddess\u2019s name? He must have power of his own, but what manner of being is he?<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cThere, there, Louisa. Come along now. Do you have anything here you\u2019d like to bring with us?\u201d<\/p>\n

She shook her head. \u201cThis dress isn\u2019t even mine. Wait while I get out of it and into my own clothes.\u201d<\/p>\n

Cassandra ran lightly up the steps and into the interior of the wagon, breathing shallowly because Gretch\u2019s repulsive smell permeated everything he touched. She was glad for this Cameron person\u2026if that was his real name. Working quickly, she dragged the squaw\u2019s dress over her head and donned her dress, sweater, and jacket. Gretch had taken her boots, substituting the cheap leather clogs covering her feet. She considered leaving them, but didn\u2019t want to go barefoot.<\/p>\n

No matter what happened next, it could hardly be worse than Gretch, with his stink and the lasciviousness, which was bound to do her in sooner or later. He wanted her, and hated himself for what he saw as weakness. She felt his loathing, mixed with lust, whenever he looked at her. A volatile combination that had to explode sooner or later. She\u2019d been in bad situations before, but Gretch was just about as disgusting a person as she\u2019d ever had to put up with.<\/p>\n

Maybe Demeter heard her prayers at the river today\u2014<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re not going nowhere. You ain\u2019t got no husband. That\u2019s nothing but a damned lie.\u201d Gretch\u2019s voice, pitched low so the people outside wouldn\u2019t hear him, raked across her nerves.<\/p>\n

He\u2019d crept silently up the steps while she was lost in thought and stood blocking the wagon\u2019s only door as she tried to shoulder past him. \u201cYou put on a smile, get on out there, and tell some more fortunes. We need money.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIf you don\u2019t let me leave, I\u2019ll scream. That ought to bring someone in here to see what\u2019s going on.\u201d Freedom was so close. Desperation swept through her, and she contemplated pushing Gretch over backward down the steps. Her power was recovered to some extent. It might be enough\u2014<\/p>\n

\u201cSomething amiss, Louisa?\u201d The stranger had walked around to the stairs and stood just below Gretch, smiling up at her.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, nothing. I\u2019m ready, dear.\u201d She dropped the coin from the pregnant woman onto a small table bolted to the side of the wagon. \u201cThere you go,\u201d she told Gretch. \u201cThe coin should be mine since I earned it with my prophecy, but I\u2019ll leave it for you as a sign of good faith.\u201d<\/p>\n

Will he let me go? Will he?<\/em><\/p>\n

What will Cameron do if Gretch wants to fight?<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019ve not seen the last of me,\u201d Gretch hissed, spraying her with tobacco-flecked saliva, before turning to stomp down the rickety steps. He pushed Cameron out of the way. Muttering imprecations, he melted into the crowd.<\/p>\n

Disgusted, she wiped the spittle off her face.<\/p>\n

\u201cCome along,\u201d Cameron repeated, holding out a hand to guide her down the stairs. \u201cI only have one horse, but you can ride. I\u2019ll lead him. There\u2019s a town not too far up the way. We\u2019ll stop at the inn for what\u2019s left of tonight.\u201d<\/p>\n

She followed him to the other side of the rutted track where he\u2019d left a bay gelding tied to a convenient branch. Vaulting smartly onto the animal\u2019s back, she nodded to him as she handed down the reins. He grabbed them and led the animal along the dark lane.<\/p>\n

Time slid past. When she was sure they were well away from Gretch and his wagon, she asked softly, \u201cWho are you, really?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy does that matter?\u201d<\/p>\n

Cassandra thought about it. \u201cPerhaps a more pertinent question, sir, might be why you took it upon yourself to rescue me.\u201d<\/p>\n

He chuckled, a soft sound that caressed her in the darkness. \u201cYou needed rescuing.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, but how could you tell?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy does that matter?\u201d He repeated his earlier question.<\/p>\n

Ach, back to where we were five minutes ago<\/em>.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou do know I\u2019m not your long lost wife,\u201d she persisted.<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t have a wife. Not yet, anyway.\u201d Despite the darkness, and his face being turned away from her, she was nearly certain he was smiling.<\/p>\n

\u201cIs Cameron your real name?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat do you think?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy do you answer all my questions with others of your own?\u201d She felt frustrated. In spite of that, though, she was sure she wasn\u2019t in any immediate danger.<\/p>\n

How would I know?<\/em><\/p>\n

My gifts are useless around him. They didn\u2019t help much when I let Gretch get hold of me, either. Or the ones before him.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cThe inn is just around this next bend. I plan to ask for a single room in case Smythe comes snooping after us. I heard him threaten you there on the stairs. Don\u2019t worry, I\u2019ll sleep on the floor.\u201d<\/p>\n

She hadn\u2019t been worried\u2026about that anyway. Cameron was undeniably appealing. He exuded an unconscious sensuality, the like of which she hadn\u2019t seen since the Roman Empire fell.<\/p>\n

Christianity tolled the death knell for sex. All their foolish rules about who could couple with whom were enough to make your head fall off. What earthly difference would it make if a maid fucked her second cousin? Yet that turned into a hanging offense\u2014at least for the maid\u2014as the Church became stronger and stronger. Clerics were practically the only ones who could read and write, which gave them an absurd advantage over everyone else. The goddess-forsaken black robes just wrote things down, presented their drivel as god\u2019s word, and that was that.<\/p>\n

She made a small clucking noise, lost in the distant reaches of the past.<\/p>\n

Misunderstanding her, he spoke hesitantly. \u201cIf it bothers you that much, I suppose I could get two rooms. Until we\u2019re out of this region, though, I believe it best if we at least look married since I announced it in front of so many people. Gretch won\u2019t be the only one gossiping about the Oracle whose husband finally caught up with her.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThe room is fine. I was thinking of\u2026other things.\u201d<\/p>\n

***<\/p>\n

They barely arrived at the public house in time. The innkeeper was in the process of locking his doors for the night as they rounded the corner and could see the place. Dashing ahead, Cameron did something\u2014likely a silver piece or two\u2014and the proprietor found them a room.<\/p>\n

\u201cKitchen\u2019s closed for the evening,\u201d the plump man in the stained apron cautioned. I can get you a loaf and a couple tankards though, to take up to your lodgings.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat would be nice. Thank you.\u201d Cassandra smiled at the innkeeper. \u201cThanks too for finding space for us for tonight.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re most welcome, ma\u2019am.\u201d The man looked sharply at her, and she wondered if word of the amnestic oracle preceded their arrival, though she didn\u2019t see how it was possible since no one had passed them on the road.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re in the last room on the right, up those stairs there.\u201d The innkeeper gestured. \u201cI\u2019ll put beer and bread out presently.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy don\u2019t you go on up, love,\u201d Cameron murmured. \u201cI know how tired you must be. I\u2019ll be along with our food and drink.\u201d He sat at one of the long, trestle tables lining the common room. Crossing his long legs, he propped his head on a closed fist.<\/p>\n

\u201cThanks, dear. I will.\u201d<\/p>\n

Cassandra mounted the stairs, the risers uneven enough to demand her attention. She located their room easily since there were only four\u2014two on each side of a central hall\u2014and pushed the door open. Spying a candle stub stuck into what was likely a nail on a wooden board, she looked for matches. There didn\u2019t seem to be any.<\/p>\n

Should I<\/em>?<\/p>\n

Probably not.<\/em><\/p>\n

Any magic\u2014even something so small as bringing fire\u2014wasn\u2019t a very good idea. Witch-hunters were everywhere. Generally humans with a small amount of their own power, they were sensitive to the feel of expended magic\u2014and driven by the generous bounty on witches.<\/p>\n

Returning to the common room, she scooped a few matches off the top of the hearth, blew an airy kiss at Cameron, and returned to their quarters.<\/p>\n

Candle lit, she took in the small, neat space tucked under the eaves of the two-story building. A bed, barely big enough for one, was shoved against one wall. From long habit, she sniffed the mattress pleased the straw was reasonably fresh. A small table with two cane-back chairs sat under the room\u2019s one window.<\/p>\n

She toed off her boots and stockings, wriggling her toes, and padded barefoot to the window where she unhooked the shutter. A refreshingly chill breeze wafted in, and a nearly-full moon was just cresting the horizon. She sent a prayer to Diana, wondering if Apollo\u2019s twin still watched over the moon. After a bit, she heard a gentle tap at the door. Casandra opened it and moved aside so Cameron could enter.<\/p>\n

\u201cNot bad,\u201d he murmured, looking around the small space as he set the beer and bread on the table. \u201cThe proprietor took pity on us and put some butter and cheese in with the bread.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHungry.\u201d She scrabbled in the basket for the buttered bread, folding a slice over a thick slab of cheese. \u201cIt\u2019s been a long time since I\u2019ve had enough to eat.\u201d<\/p>\n

Maybe she should wait for Cameron, but she was too starved for manners. Chewing and swallowing, she sighed with pleasure. After a few bites, she picked up a tankard and chased the food with a long swallow of beer. The mildly alcoholic beverage hadn\u2019t aged long enough, but it tasted wonderful, and she swiped at her mouth to get rid of the foamy residue.<\/p>\n

\u201cOther than beating you and starving you, did that bastard do anything else?\u201d Cameron\u2019s words were quiet, but they held a deadly edge.<\/p>\n

Cassandra stared at him, shocked. How could he have known?<\/p>\n

She set her beer down. \u201cI told you he didn\u2019t feed me enough, but I never said anything else. Why would you think he hurt me?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBecause he had the look of a man who\u2019d do such things,\u201d Cameron replied, sipping at his own beer. \u201cThose bruises circling both wrists didn\u2019t happen by themselves.\u201d Raising a hand to forestall further questions, he added, \u201cFinish your bread and drink your beer. It\u2019s past time for sleep. We should be up and gone early.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThey usually serve breakfast at places like this\u2014\u201d she began, hoping for more food.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe\u2019ll be gone long before then,\u201d he broke in. \u201cWe\u2019ll need another horse, though. I\u2019m hoping there\u2019ll be a stable near here where I can buy one.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIf we wait for the stable to open, we can wait for breakfast. I\u2019ve missed as many meals as I plan to.\u201d<\/p>\n

He laughed softly again and ate more of his dinner.<\/p>\n

His laughter reminded her of springtime in warmer climes, redolent of newly sprung plants and delicate flowers. \u201cDo I amuse you?\u201d Her tone was sharper than she meant it to be. \u201cI\u2019m tired of being hungry. That\u2019s all.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI understand better than you might think. I\u2019ve been hungry myself. Would you like me to beg more bread from the kitchen?\u201d<\/p>\n

She shook her head. \u201cNo. No point in drawing attention to ourselves.\u201d<\/p>\n

Cassandra got to her feet and latched the window. She moved the candle to the table and said, \u201cBlow it out when you\u2019re done. Sleep was a good idea. I\u2019m exhausted.\u201d Kissing him lightly on one cheek, she whispered, \u201cThank you. You\u2019ve done me a great kindness, sir.\u201d<\/p>\n

***<\/p>\n

Cameron wrapped his cloak tighter around him to ward off the chill of the evening and watched Cassandra from his seat at the table. She\u2019d fallen asleep almost immediately, which told him she didn\u2019t view him as a threat.<\/p>\n

Her classically sculpted face, with its high cheekbones and lush, red lips, held something both youthful and timeless. Abundant coppery hair, released from its pins, fanned over the thin pillow, a few strands falling onto the floor.<\/p>\n

What got into me<\/em>?\u00a0<\/span>She wasn\u2019t part of the plan<\/em>.<\/p>\n

Stopping at that ludicrous medicine show hadn\u2019t been part of the plan, either. He\u2019d ridden right by it and then been drawn back by something. In truth, he was a good half mile beyond Smythe\u2019s wagon before a voice inside his head hammered mercilessly, insisting he retrace his steps.<\/p>\n

He couldn\u2019t recall when a sending had been quite so pervasive, so he followed its command.<\/p>\n

His gaze strayed to the rise and fall of unbound breasts, and his cock stirred. She really was lovely, this Cassandra. Was she really the Cassandra from Greek mythology? Could she possibly be after all this time? Most of the gods and goddesses had long since gone to ground. The modern world didn\u2019t believe in them anymore, and their response was to leave mankind to rot in its own excesses.<\/p>\n

Cameron narrowed his eyes, still replaying the night\u2019s events. Once he returned to Smyth\u2019s wagon, he\u2019d watched from the shadows as the pregnant woman sought Cassandra\u2019s counsel, then denied its accuracy. More than anything, that spurred him to step forward, claiming to be her husband.<\/p>\n

Destined to tell the truth, yet never be believed. It was Cassandra\u2019s gift. And her curse as well.<\/p>\n

Cameron was a creature of spirit. Forged by Sidhe magic in the old country, he held magic, but nothing so powerful as hers. He risked a small flicker of enchantment, shielding it well. Displays of power were hazardous because witch-hunters were always about, drawn by rich bounties offered by the Church.<\/p>\n

His magic foundered against a wall, and he shuttered it. Even in sleep, she protected herself, but he didn\u2019t blame her. Her wards added to his suspicion that she had to be the original Cassandra.<\/p>\n

It must be why he\u2019d felt enormous pressure to rescue her. His sending hadn\u2019t come from her, but from the gods. For a moment, he felt hopeful. Maybe they hadn\u2019t totally deserted mankind after all. In his mind\u2019s eye, he visualized empty altars all through the Scottish highlands and the Irish hills. Painfully deserted places, where people once brought offerings, grateful for what their gods could do.<\/p>\n

Sadness displaced hope. Perhaps the gods wanted him to rescue Cassandra, but they\u2019d washed their hands of mankind.<\/p>\n

Cameron railed against the Christian god and swore softly. \u201cHerne take the bloody Church.\u201d Even as he said the words, he realized the futility of his despair. Over time Christianity insidiously and systematically replaced once-living gods with their dead one. The Middle Ages were such a wretched time that people\u2014smallfolk and lords alike\u2014grasped greedily at salvation promised by the new religion.<\/p>\n

Never mind that deliverance from misery wasn\u2019t supposed to come until the afterlife.<\/p>\n

Rewards in\u00a0<\/span>this<\/em>\u00a0<\/span>life for gullibility ran the gamut, from hangings and confiscated property, to maiden daughters fucked by priests before\u2014and after\u2014being tossed into nunneries. He shuddered, reliving his anguish as an image of Leda, his own sweet Leda burned at the stake, blasted him with misery.<\/p>\n

He\u2019d known for hundreds of years that the dead god was just that\u2026dead. The black-robed nightmares who passed for priests created the rules\u2014enforcing them with brutal efficiency. Priests touted their rules as the indisputable word of a god no one had ever seen, but who couldn\u2019t be denied if you wanted to protect your immortal soul.<\/p>\n

Horse crap!<\/p>\n

Anger turned his guts to a writhing, burning mass of pain. He had to calm down or he\u2019d never sleep. Gazing at the woman helped. He focused on her beauty, wondered how her silken hair would feel twined tight in his hands, and his tight muscles relaxed.<\/p>\n

Cassandra stirred, murmuring in her sleep. Perhaps she sensed his torment.<\/p>\n

He blew out the candle and shut his eyes. He could doze sitting up. He\u2019d done it lots of times. When they imprisoned him in The Clink in Southwark after Leda\u2019s death in sixteen eighty-three, he\u2019d been chained to a damp, moldy wall for months with only rats for company. He had to do everything sitting then, and he remembered rotting in his own filth. Even after he turned magic to the task, it took more time than he cared to think about for the festering sores on his skin to heal. If there hadn\u2019t been a prison uprising, he would\u2019ve swung along with all the other heretics\u2026<\/p>\n

Damn the sodding Church of England and the Catholics, too.<\/p>\n

He didn\u2019t recall falling asleep, but the gray light of dawn woke him. He glanced at Cassandra. She\u2019d kicked off the covers. All of one leg was visible, lean, muscled, and appealing. The cockstand he always woke with stiffened further, and his breath hitched. Gods, she was so sensual, yet with a beauty that transcended anything he\u2019d come across.<\/p>\n

Without thought, he got to his feet and knelt by her bed. Laying a hand on her shoulder, he rocked her gently. \u201cTime to get up.\u201d<\/p>\n

Her green eyes, clear as fine agates, flew open, and she looked at him, tracing fingertips along the top of his cheekbone.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou have dark smudges beneath those fine, gray eyes.\u201d She opened her arms in a silent invitation, and he was lost.<\/p>\n

Cameron cradled her face in his hands before he closed his mouth over hers. She threaded her outstretched arms around him, splaying her hands across his back as she opened her mouth to his kiss.<\/p>\n

She tasted of promise, of warmth and love\u2014all the things he\u2019d denied himself since Leda\u2019s death. He\u2019d taken the occasional woman when his balls ached so fiercely he had no choice, but he\u2019d never offered his heart again. Fear drove a stake through lust so primal, it was all he could to so to hold himself back. He wanted to push her skirts up and plunge into her, filling her with everything he had. If he did, he\u2019d never leave her side.<\/p>\n

She thrust her tongue inside his mouth and moaned low in her throat, pulling him into the bed with her. He resisted, but slipped a hand between her legs beneath her skirts. Scorching heat met his fingers, and his cock twitched violently inside his breeks, on the edge of orgasm. He rubbed hard little circles around the seat of her pleasure, and she moved a hand to curve around his erect flesh.<\/p>\n

He felt her push into his mind and didn\u2019t block her. He wanted to feel her hunger, her desire. More, he wanted her to feel his. Her hips bucked, and he moved his fingers inside her in time to feel the rhythmic contractions of her climax. She didn\u2019t even have to stroke him. The heat from her hands through his trousers was all it took for him to spend, jerking and spasming against her touch.<\/p>\n

He broke their kiss and drank her in, enthralled by her beauty. Passion splotches covered her pale skin, and she glowed in the early morning light.<\/p>\n

Cassandra grinned. \u201cExcellent beginning. Take those clothes off, so we can do this properly.\u201d<\/p>\n

Smiling faintly, he shook his head. \u201cI\u2019d love to, but there\u2019s no time\u2014at least not right now. The sun\u2019s up. We need to leave soon.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBreakfast?\u201d Her voice sounded fuzzy. Swallowing, she tried again. \u201cYou don\u2019t have that horse yet, do you?\u201d<\/p>\n

He shook his head. After brushing a kiss across her mouth, he got to his feet and unbuttoned his breeks. A corner of her sheets worked to clean himself before he set his trousers to rights.<\/p>\n

\u201cIf you don\u2019t have the horse, there\u2019s likely time to eat. I think I smell bread.\u201d She wrinkled her nose, sniffing.<\/p>\n

\u201cI smell it too.\u201d He sat next to her and took her hand. His heart thudded against his chest, and his tongue stumbled over unfamiliar words. \u201cI\u2014 What just happened was special for me.\u201d<\/p>\n

Her smile faded, replaced by a thoughtful look. \u201cFor me too. I could use sex to escape from you, but I don\u2019t want to.\u201d<\/p>\n

He crushed her to him, breathing in the fresh, earthy scent of her, before scrambling back to his feet. \u201cI\u2019m on my way to find another mount for us. Meet you in the common room. If there\u2019s something ready by the time I return, we can eat.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m sure I can talk the innkeeper out of something.\u201d<\/p>\n

Cameron didn\u2019t doubt it for a moment. He couldn\u2019t stop smiling. Joy was such an unfamiliar feeling, it surprised him, but he didn\u2019t chase it away. He was halfway out the door when he turned and shut it, closing their room from prying ears.<\/p>\n

\u201cRemember your name, Louisa,\u201d he spoke low. \u201cLet\u2019s get out of her without problems.\u201d<\/p>\n

She smiled, a slow, lazy affair that lit up her mossy eyes. \u201cI can do that.\u201d<\/p>\n

***<\/p>\n

He looked at her with an odd expression before letting himself out into the corridor. Delight and something indefinable that she didn\u2019t have a name for struggled for ascendency on his finely wrought features.<\/p>\n

What was in his mind?<\/p>\n

She could\u2019ve sent power auguring into his thoughts, but using magic was a risk, and if they were going to be lovers, it was better for him to tell her things, rather than her helping herself. She stretched her arms above her head and pushed herself to a sit. The memory of his cock coming against her hand made her hot all over again, but she smoothed her skirts down. There\u2019d be lots of orgasms with Cameron. No need to bring herself off and risk Aphrodite\u2019s wrath.<\/p>\n

She didn\u2019t think there\u2019d been any other guests at the inn the previous night. If there had been, they\u2019d been quiet as ghosts. In lieu of the comb she didn\u2019t have, she ran her fingers through her tangled locks before standing. She placed her palms flat against the low ceiling, pushing kinks out of her muscles, before slipping into her worn boots. Nothing more to gather, so she left the room and made her way back down the uneven stairs.<\/p>\n

The common room was empty, but someone had lit a fire in the stone hearth. Sitting as close to its warmth as she could get, Cassandra kept a close eye on the swinging door she presumed led to the kitchen. There\u00a0<\/span>was<\/em>\u00a0<\/span>bread baking. The odor was much more pronounced down here. Her mouth watered, and she wiped at it, feeling mildly ashamed of the trail of saliva.<\/p>\n

\u201cOracle?\u201d A thready voice rose out of nowhere.<\/p>\n

She searched the shadows, seeking its origin. \u201cYes? Come closer whoever you are. I won\u2019t hurt you.\u201d<\/p>\n

A maid of perhaps thirteen crept barefoot from a darkened hall. \u201cYou be the lady who tells the future?\u201d The child bent over as a deep, phlegmy cough shook her slight frame.<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, child. How can I help you?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMe Da, he tol\u2019 me not t\u2019 bother you. He says I\u2019ll get better, but, Oracle, I think I am a-dyin\u2019 and I want to know so\u2019s I might make my peace with the Christian god. Me Ma, she prays to the Old Ones see, and I used to be leavin\u2019 \u2019em milk and corn, too, but I wants to get into heaven.\u201d Another fit of coughing ripped through her, and she spat a glob of bloody mucus onto the ground, wiping at it with one foot.<\/p>\n

Oh my, I don\u2019t need my gift to answer you, child.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cYou need to return to your bed,\u201d Cassandra began, but the child interrupted her.<\/p>\n

\u201cAm I a-dying, Oracle?\u201d<\/p>\n

Cassandra met the child\u2019s dark brown eyes, rimmed with the pain of the wasting sickness gradually sucking the life out of her. She opened her mouth to craft a soothing lie, but nothing came.<\/p>\n

Bound to tell the truth\u2026<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cWould the missus like some coffee?\u201d The innkeeper emerged from the kitchen carrying a mug and a pot. Noticing his daughter, he drew his brows together. \u201cBessie, you get on back to the kitchen. I\u2019ll not have you bothering the guests. I told you that afore.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, Papa,\u201d the child mumbled before turning to leave.<\/p>\n

\u201cSorry for that, missus. Child\u2019s got the grippe. I\u2019m sure she\u2019ll be better soon. How about coffee? I made some up fresh for you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, please.\u201d She struggled to expunge the specter of the dying child from her mind.<\/p>\n

Should I tell him, so he can prepare for her loss? Ach, probably best to not interfere\u2026 Besides, he wouldn\u2019t believe me anyway.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cMy, uh,\u201d she stumbled over the word husband, then tried again. \u201cWhat I mean to say is that Cameron is out looking to find another horse. I\u2019m sure he\u2019ll want some coffee too, when he gets back here.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, he certainly would.\u201d Cameron had just let himself in through the main door. \u201cFound you a nice little filly, love. She cost us dear, but she\u2019s perfect for you. I took her around to the stables and told the boy to get her and my bay ready to go.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMight I interest you in breakfast to go with that coffee,\u201d the proprietor interrupted, apparently concerned his only paying customers might leave before he\u2019d had a chance to sell them something further.<\/p>\n

\u201cSure, so long as it doesn\u2019t take long to prepare,\u201d Cameron replied. \u201cWe have a long way to go today.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cEggs, bread and cheese for six pence?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cPerfect,\u201d Cassandra said. \u201cWe can eat those as we ride.\u201d<\/p>\n

***<\/p>\n

They\u2019d been traveling for hours through thick timber, the vegetation so dense Cassandra doubted they\u2019d be able to force their horses through the undergrowth if they left the track. She picked out pines, firs, poplars, aspens, oaks, and sycamores, plus fragrant ferns and other shrubbery intermingled with the tree boles along the well-beaten road. The summer sun was warm on her hair, and she was enjoying the feel of a horse between her legs again.<\/p>\n

As they rode, she kept quiet to see what Cameron chose to tell her. After an entire morning of silence, though, she couldn\u2019t stand it any longer. \u201cWhere are we going?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWondered when you\u2019d get around to asking about that.\u201d He grinned. His worried mood from earlier seemed to have lifted.<\/p>\n

\u201cAre you going to tell me?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSure. We\u2019re headed across the state of New York, then into Canada. More precisely, we\u2019re on our way to Caldwell. From there we\u2019ll board a steamer traveling north on Lake George. Next, we\u2019ll head to Fort Ticonderoga. Then it\u2019s another steamer on up Lake Champlain. That will get us to Canada.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy there?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIf anyone stops us and asks, our home is in Montreal.\u201d He hesitated. \u201cThe real reason, though, is people are more tolerant of those like us in Canada. That\u2019s where I was headed\u2026before I found you. Plus, the United States is only a handful of steps away from an internal war. I\u2019ve fought in lots of wars I didn\u2019t believe in. Wasn\u2019t much interested in being conscripted into another.\u201d<\/p>\n

He quirked an eyebrow. \u201cHow\u2019s your French?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cPassable.\u201d She paused. \u201cBut then, so are my Latin, Greek, German, and Italian. Of course I know about the war. Even tried to tell a few people but no one believed me\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou really are Cassandra, aren\u2019t you?\u201d He reined in, bringing the bay gelding to a halt.<\/p>\n

She looked at him strangely. \u201cOf course. Who\u2019d you think I was?\u201d<\/p>\n

He shrugged, not quite meeting her eyes. \u201cI wasn\u2019t exactly sure, but the clues pointed that way.\u201d<\/p>\n

She cocked her head to one side. \u201cThe bigger question for me is who are you?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThere\u2019s no short answer to that.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHow about the long version, then?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cLater,\u201d he murmured, neatly sidestepping her attempt to divert the conversation. \u201cBack to the question of where we live\u2026 Remember, Montreal is our home. I\u2019m in lumber. We have two children, Apollo and Diana. That should be easy enough for you to remember.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy not Betty and Joe?\u201d she asked bitterly. I\u2019ve spent three thousand years trying to forget Apollo.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHush!\u201d He rounded on her, his gray eyes sparking with anger. \u201cHow in the nine hells do you think I figured out I needed to stop for you last night? The gods forced me to alter my route. Whether you like it or no, they\u2019re still watching out for you. Best say a prayer. Quick.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat do you mean forced you?\u201d<\/p>\n

He glanced away. \u201cI have visions. It\u2019s all you need to know at the moment. Come on. Lots of miles left to go today.\u201d He kneed his horse into a trot, and she did the same.<\/p>\n

Cassandra thought as she rode. She did offer up a quick prayer, biting off a few hairs and tossing them back over her right shoulder as she muttered her expiations.<\/p>\n

It\u2019s not possible. Apollo hasn\u2019t thought about me even once since he ruined my life.<\/em><\/p>\n

Startled by the sound of horses\u2019 hooves, she turned in her saddle. \u201cCameron. Look there.\u201d She pointed at the unmistakable sheriff\u2019s posse bearing down on them. \u201cGuess Gretch decided to put up a fight. Who else does he have to make money for him?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWe\u2019ll wait and speak with them.\u201d Cameron sounded wary, as if he were expecting the worst and girding himself to fight. \u201cWe can\u2019t run. It\u2019d look bad. Besides, there\u2019s no place to hide. Let me answer their questions. No one will believe you.\u201d<\/p>\n

Bitterness coated her throat like sour acid. \u201cTruer words were never spoken.\u201d She reined her horse to face the posse summoned power so she\u2019d have it to hand. She\u2019d never return to Gretch without putting up a hell of a fight.<\/p>\n

\u201cMr. Tracy?\u201d The man with the badge pulled up next to them. The rest of the posse, Gretch among them, hung back, waiting expectantly.<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, that would be me. What can I do for you?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThis man,\u201d he pointed at Gretch, \u201clodged a complaint against you. Says you stole his wife.\u201d The sheriff stared intently at Cassandra. Remembering what passed for manners in this age and country, she demurely dropped her gaze and dredged up a blush.<\/p>\n

\u201cSeems he\u2019s got that backward.\u201d Cameron spoke gently. \u201cLouisa, here, is my wife. She gets confused sometimes and wanders off. You should see the bruises that monster inflicted on her. He kept her chained up like a dog. She told me all about it last night. Show them, love.\u201d<\/p>\n

She dutifully rolled up her sleeves, wondering how Cameron could have known about the iron chain. Discolored, broken skin circled both her wrists, ugly and blotchy in the bright sunlight.<\/p>\n

\u201cGuess you couldn\u2019t very well have done that,\u201d the sheriff said to Cameron, eying the greenish flesh of her half-healed injuries. \u201cThose have been there for a while.\u201d He glanced over his shoulder at Gretch. \u201cDid you inflict those wounds on this woman?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI have no idea how she came by them,\u201d Gretch snarled. \u201cShe always was a clumsy wench.\u201d<\/p>\n

Nodding to himself, the sheriff turned back to Cameron and Cassandra. \u201cWhere are the two of you headed?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cCanada.\u201d Cassandra spoke without thinking.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re Canadian?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cActually, we\u2019re both from Massachusetts.\u201d Cameron cut in quickly. \u201cBut we chose to settle in Montreal. I have a lumber business there. Lots of building going on, so it seemed like a logical choice.\u201d He smiled at the sheriff. \u201cDo you suppose we might go, sir? There are many miles betwixt us and home.\u201d<\/p>\n

The sheriff swiveled in his saddle, looking right at Cassandra. \u201cWhose wife are you?\u201d he demanded.<\/p>\n

Can I force a lie to cross my lips?<\/em><\/p>\n

Do I tell him the truth\u2014that I am no man\u2019s wife\u2014and have him jail me for harlotry? Does it even matter if he won\u2019t believe anything I say?<\/em><\/p>\n

Help me, Apollo,<\/em>\u00a0<\/span>she prayed in desperation.\u00a0<\/span>It\u2019s been so long. Please, please lift that damned spell. You\u2019re<\/em>\u00a0<\/span>a beautiful god. And once I loved you so.<\/em><\/p>\n

She took a deep, measured breath. \u201cI would be his, sir,\u201d she replied, pointing at Cameron. \u201cThat animal, Gretch, used me sorely. I was neither his slave, nor his wife, yet he beat me and starved me. He\u2019s the one you should arrest.\u201d<\/p>\n

She held her breath. Would he believe her? Or was she on her way back to iron manacles, the whip, half-rotten food, Gretch\u2019s stink, and his twisted lust?<\/p>\n

Cameron reached out, laying a hand over hers, and she leaned into him as their mounts stood side-by-side. Both of them watched the sheriff as he mulled over what to do. After what felt like an interminable time, he said, \u201cFeels to me like the two of you fit together. Mrs. Tracy, you\u2019re too much of a lady for the likes of Gretch Smythe. Travel safely.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re not letting them go?\u201d Gretch\u2019s aggrieved tone filled the air.<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, as a matter of fact, I am,\u201d the sheriff replied, turning his horse so he faced Gretch. \u201cIf you know what\u2019s good for you, you\u2019ll ride out of here and back to that wagon of yours. When you get there, you\u2019ll clear out of my territory. Lying to a peace officer is worth thirty days in jail.\u201d<\/p>\n

Gretch\u2019s eyes widened in shock. Hauling his horse\u2019s head around so sharply the mare whinnied in pain, he dug his heels into her side and was gone in clouds of dust.<\/p>\n

\u201cSorry for the trouble, folks.\u201d The sheriff tipped his hat. Gesturing to his five-man posse, they turned their mounts and trotted slowly along the thickly-wooded track.<\/p>\n

\u201cI need to get down,\u201d she murmured once they were alone again. \u201cApollo heard me, and I must have my feet on the earth to thank him properly.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat did you ask for?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI begged him to lift the curse and let the sheriff believe me, so I wouldn\u2019t have to go back to Gretch. I\u2019m almost afraid to trust it, but this is the first time since the God of Prophecy\u2019s malediction that anyone\u2019s believed what I\u2019ve told them.\u201d<\/p>\n

One corner of her mouth twitched upward. \u201cI even managed to tell half a lie without choking on the words.\u201d Slipping down from her horse, she tossed the reins to Cameron, wondering if her other gifts had disappeared along with her curse. If the curse had truly been lifted that is.<\/p>\n

Oh please, please let it be gone\u2026<\/em><\/p>\n

The half-taste of freedom was so heady she could barely contain her anticipation.<\/p>\n

A crow fluttered down, landing on her shoulder. \u201cLittle one?\u201d she murmured hopefully.<\/p>\n

\u201cSister,\u201d the bird croaked.<\/p>\n

Relief swept through her.\u00a0<\/span>Thank the Goddess. I can still understand him.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cThe shining one would have you know that you are released. He says he\u2019d have done so long ago, had you but asked.\u201d The crow quorked his message, with a lyrical chirrup at the end.<\/p>\n

It couldn\u2019t have been that simple<\/em>.<\/p>\n

Or could it? Ach, what a stubborn fool I\u2019ve been to not see the truth right under my nose.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cBlessings, little one,\u201d she said to the crow. \u201cTell your shining one \u2018thank you\u2019 from me.\u201d Cassandra stroked the soft places just behind the crow\u2019s head. He cawed again and ruffled his feathers, leaning into her gentle hand before taking wing.<\/p>\n

Turning to Cameron, she asked, \u201cHave you a knife or scissors?\u201d<\/p>\n

He nodded. Dismounting from the bay, he pulled a short dagger out of its scabbard and handed it to her. \u201cMy thanks,\u201d she said, as she laid it in the middle of a small clearing between two sycamore trees. Squatting, she gathered bits of bark, twigs and leaves into a pile. When she had enough to get a fire started she stood, stepped out of her clothes and pulled the pins from her hair. Naked, her hair swirling round her like a living flame, she raised her hands to the skies in supplication.<\/p>\n

A prayer she\u2019d not given voice to since she left Troy flowed from her lips in ancient Greek. Tears came with it, streaming hot and bitter down her face. With them came visions of long, wasted years, tripping over one another like unwelcome guests called to bear witness. Snuffling, she hunkered down, calling on her magic to light the fire. Once it was blazing skyward, she picked up the dagger and sawed off several locks of her hair, feeding them to the flames as she continued to pay homage, humbly thanking Apollo for hearing her plea.<\/p>\n

Cameron took his place next to her, naked as well. Crouched low beside the flames, he joined his voice to hers. Druidic symbols were tattooed into his skin, mingling with fine, white lines of hundreds of scars.<\/p>\n

\u201cApollo\u00a0<\/span>did<\/em>\u00a0<\/span>send you to me. He must have. There\u2019s no other way you could have found me.\u201d She was crying again. \u201cSomehow, through all these years, the old gods\u2014our gods\u2014still live.\u201d Exultation swept through her, potent as strong wine.<\/p>\n

\u201cI never doubted it. Not really.\u201d Cameron stood, pulling her to her feet so he could fold her into his arms. Lips buried in her hair, he whispered, \u201cJoin your life with mine, Cassandra. I don\u2019t fully understand yet, but this seems to have been foretold.\u201d<\/p>\n

She breathed in the clean, woodsy scent of him. \u201c\u2019Twould be heresy not to since the gods led you to me.\u201d<\/p>\n

Tracing a few of his scars with her fingertips, she wondered about the wounds and how it was that a Celt understood the Greek prayers.<\/p>\n

\u2019Tis a tale best left for another day. He and I shall have infinite days together.<\/em>\u00a0<\/span>As soon as she thought the words, she heard truth in them and it warmed her soul.<\/p>\n

She opened her mouth to tell him, but he shook his head. \u201cI see the same,\u201d he murmured. \u201cIt\u2019s why I asked you to become one with me. I never thought I\u2019d love another woman, but I\u2019m falling in love with you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll make certain you never regret it.\u201d<\/p>\n

Rather than words, he answered her with a kiss.<\/p>\n

Cassandra leaned against him, and together they watched the flames of their fire kiss the afternoon sky.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

[\/et_pb_blurb][\/et_pb_column][\/et_pb_row][\/et_pb_section][et_pb_section fb_built=”1″ _builder_version=”4.0.5″ background_image=”http:\/\/anngimpel.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/11\/BodyBG.jpg” locked=”off”][et_pb_row _builder_version=”4.0.5″][et_pb_column type=”4_4″ _builder_version=”4.0.5″][et_pb_blurb _builder_version=”4.0.5″ header_level=”h3″ header_text_align=”center”][\/et_pb_blurb][\/et_pb_column][\/et_pb_row][et_pb_row _builder_version=”4.0.5″][et_pb_column type=”4_4″ _builder_version=”4.0.5″][\/et_pb_column][\/et_pb_row][\/et_pb_section][et_pb_section fb_built=”1″ _builder_version=”4.0.5″ background_image=”http:\/\/anngimpel.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/11\/BodyBG.jpg”][et_pb_row column_structure=”1_3,1_3,1_3″ _builder_version=”4.0.5″ locked=”off” global_module=”2170″ saved_tabs=”all”][et_pb_column type=”1_3″ _builder_version=”4.0.5″][et_pb_blurb title=” About Ann” _builder_version=”4.0.5″]<\/p>\n

I’m basically a mountaineer at heart. I remember many hours at my desk where my body may have been stuck inside four walls, but my soul was planning yet one more trip to the backcountry.\u00a0There’s a timeless element to the mountains. They feel like old friends as I visit them, and visit them again. There’s nothing like standing on a remote pass where I’ve been before and seeing that the vista is unchanged. Or on an\u00a0equally\u00a0remote peak. Mountains are the bones of the world. They’ll prevail long after all of us are dust. It feels honest and humbling to share space with them. I hope I’m blessed with many more years to wander the local landscape. The memories are incomparable. They warm me and help me believe there will be something left for our children and their children after them.<\/span><\/p>\n

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Originally published by The Absent Willow Review in 2010 \u201cCassandra! Up, you lazy slut. Up, I say. Right now.\u201d She cringed away from the rough male voice, but the expected prod in her bruised ribs from his hob-nailed boot didn\u2019t happen. He was bending closer to her, though, the cloyingly rancid odor from his unwashed […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"featured_media":618,"parent":0,"menu_order":0,"template":"template-page-builder.php","format":"standard","meta":{"_et_pb_use_builder":"on","_et_pb_old_content":"\"Wolf-wolves-29803359-1024-768\"The Oracle<\/strong>\r\n\r\nOriginally published by The Absent Willow Review in 2010\r\n\r\n\u201cCassandra! Up, you lazy slut. Up, I say. Right now.\u201d\r\n\r\nShe cringed away from the rough male voice, but the expected prod in her bruised ribs from his hob-nailed boot didn\u2019t happen. He was bending closer to her, though, the cloyingly rancid odor from his unwashed body and rotting teeth almost unbearable. She buried her nose in the crook of one arm, trying to block it out.\r\n\r\n\u201cThere\u2019s people that\u2019ll be here soon. Get up. You\u2019re scarcely presentable.\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cI am up.\u201d She rolled over, but came up short as her manacles and chain reached their limit. She scowled at her captor. \u201cIf you cared about me being presentable, you wouldn\u2019t\u00a0tether me\u00a0.\r\n\r\nHe glared right back. \u201cShooting daggers out of those green eyes won\u2019t help a bit. You\u2019re my property. Means I can treat you however I want.\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cAre you going to unlock me?\u201d she demanded, curling her mouth into a snarl. \u201cNot much I can do chained up like a dog.\u201d\r\n\r\nGretch rocked back on his heels and shot an appraising glance her way. \u201cWill you promise to behave?\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cIf you\u2019re asking whether I\u2019m going to run away again, the answer is no.\u201d\r\n\r\nThe whipping he\u2019d administered after catching her sneaking down to the riverbank, manacles and all, still bloomed bright in her mind. Iron dimmed her power. It was still there, just much harder to access. She muffled a snort. No one realized iron\u2019s potential until a misogynistic cleric in the fifteen hundreds bound witches in chains as an experiment\u2014and was delighted with the results.\r\n\r\nHer life hadn\u2019t been worth much since then. Not much at all. Inner laughter chimed bitterly. Witch trials! Hah! All they\u2019d provided was a handy excuse to hang or burn mostly-innocent women, so their falsely-devout husbands could find someone younger or prettier.\r\n\r\nNot that she was a witch, but she did hold magic within her, and the same principles applied.\r\n\r\nShe eyed Gretch. \u201cThought we were in a hurry. People coming and all that.\u201d\r\n\r\nPulling a large key from a filthy pocket, Gretch reached for her wrist. He inserted the key and tugged on the iron bracelet. Rusty hinges groaned then popped open. She rubbed her wrist and mutely held the other out for him.\r\n\r\nGretch held onto her wrist for too long once she was free, but she knew better than to pull away. The man was a bully, and she didn\u2019t want to give him an excuse to hurt her.\r\n\r\n\u201cGet behind the wagon and wash up,\u201d he hissed. \u201cYou have straw in your hair, and your face is dirty. Don\u2019t try anything. I have sharp ears. You\u2019re mine, and don\u2019t you ever forget it.\u201d\r\n\r\nAnger surfaced, but she reined it in. She wanted to scream at him. Rake her nails down his face and tell him his entire body was riddled with lice, and he smelled so bad he turned her stomach.\r\n\r\nBastard! How dare he complain about her being dirty? He reveled in filth. Rolled in it. Lived in it.\r\n\r\nCassandra stumbled to her feet still rubbing her wrists. They burned from the iron manacles. When she was chained it felt as if her skin were on fire wherever the unclean metal touched her. Gold now, or silver, or even bronze. Those metals were worthy of her. But iron? Laying eyes on the bucket of sour water behind the wagon, she recoiled. Why\u2019d he have to use the same bucket he\u00a0picked up horse shit with?\r\n\r\n\u201cGretch!\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cYour highness?\u201d Sarcasm drizzled through his tones.\r\n\r\nHe wouldn\u2019t come around the wagon unbidden. He was afraid if he saw her unclothed, she\u2019d ensorcel him, and he wasn\u2019t far wrong. That was how she\u2019d gotten away from the last two men who captured her. Once they spilled their seed in her, they were hers, and it became a simple enough matter to steal a few coins and fade away unnoticed.\r\n\r\nMaybe, just maybe, that might work here too. She\u2019d seen the bulge in his breeches as he gawked at her, lying helpless in her chains. Once she\u2019d even caught him watering the ground with his semen. Though she waited for Aphrodite to strike him down for such sacrilege, it hadn\u2019t happened.\r\n\r\nWere the old gods still there? Their responses to things seemed desultory these days. Goddess knew they hadn\u2019t answered any of her entreaties.\r\n\r\n\u201cI need clean water, Gretch. I can\u2019t wash in horse shit. How about if you take me down to the river?\u201d She held her breath. Given the choice between escorting her to the river or dumping, then refilling, the heavy bucket, she hoped he\u2019d chose the river.\r\n\r\nHe might order her to wash in the fetid water and be done with it. Once when she\u2019d complained, he\u2019d upended the bucket over her head. That earned him censure from the gods in the form of a sudden lightning storm, but she was sure he didn\u2019t connect the two events.\r\n\r\n\u201cAre you decent?\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cYes, Gretch. All my clothes are still on,\u201d she replied waspishly.\r\n\r\nHe poked his head around the corner of the garish wagon emblazoned with, Mr. Smythe\u2019s Traveling Wonders<\/em>. \u201cI\u2019ll take you to the river. If you run, I\u2019ll have the law on you for a witch, and you\u2019ll be hung. Do you understand me?\u201d Watery blue eyes looked at her through stringy black hair that fell in greasy strands around his smallpox-scarred face. He was on the short side for a man, but surprisingly strong with a wiry, fireplug build.\r\n\r\n\u201cI understand. Let\u2019s go.\u201d Cassandra pushed her heavy red hair back over her shoulders and drew herself up to her full height of close to six feet, before setting off at a brisk pace for the creek. She longed for the feel of\u00a0clean water soothing her skin, washing away iron residue that still tingled unpleasantly.\r\n\r\n\u201cThanks.\u201d She bit off the word. \u201cI give you my word I won\u2019t run.\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cYour word doesn\u2019t mean much.\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cHow could you possibly know that?\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cWitches always lie.\u201d\r\n\r\nShe rounded on him, blocking the path. Anger raced along her nerves, hot enough to scorch silk. \u201cI am not a witch. How many times must we go through this? You advertise me as an oracle. You\u2019ve seen that at least some of the things I predict come true.\u201d\r\n\r\nAnd I\u2019m destined to not have anyone believe a thing that I say<\/em>, she finished silently.\r\n\r\n\u201cNo more talk, witch. I\u2019m right behind you.\u201d He crooked two fingers in the sign against evil.\r\n\r\nShoulders sagging, she headed back down the worn path to the creek. As soon as she got to the water, she slipped out of her ill-fitting boots then slid a threadbare sweater off her shoulders.\r\n\r\nRed splotched his face, and his breathing quickened. \u201cJust wash your hands and face. Forget your body.\u201d\r\n\r\nCassandra clutched the sides of her thin dress and turned to face him, noting his arousal with practiced eyes. \u201cYou don\u2019t have to look,\u201d she said and unbuttoned the garment slowly before slithering out of it and letting it pool on the ground at her feet.\r\n\r\nGretch was panting now, and she turned toward the life-sustaining clean water. Wading in, she crouched in the shallows but kept her back to him. That way if he wanted to violate Aphrodite\u2019s precepts and spill himself on the ground, he could delude himself she didn\u2019t know.\r\n\r\nCassandra cupped water in her hands and cleaned herself. The water was cool but not so cold as to create discomfort. How long since she\u2019d had a proper bath? Not since she\u2019d been with Gretch. That was certain. How long had that been, anyway? One month? No, probably closer to two, or even three.\r\n\r\nShe\u2019d lived so long, she stopped keeping track of time eons ago. What wretched luck that Apollo\u2019s curse included immortality. Or had that come along with her gift of prophecy? She\u2019d never been quite certain. Not that it mattered.\r\n\r\nAnother problem was\u00a0while she could see everyone else\u2019s future, her own remained stubbornly dark.\r\n\r\nShe waded farther into the stream until she found a deep pool. Dropping her head back, she used sand to scrub the grease from her thick hair. It felt utterly decadent to shed the accumulated layers of grime. She sent a hasty prayer up to Demeter and heard a muffled gasp from the bank.\r\n\r\nGretch had apparently reached his climax.\r\n\r\nShe took her time rinsing the last of the sand out of her hair to give him a few minutes to get himself back together. Just to be mean, she flashed a tantalizing glimpse of one curved breast before backing out of the creek. If she could find a way to coax Aphrodite\u2019s blessing from him, she\u2019d be gone from here. And a hell of a lot more careful traveling the byways in witch-riddled New England from here on in.\r\n\r\nShe cast a sultry glance over one shoulder, but he wasn\u2019t facing her anymore. Damn!<\/em> Maybe next time she could plan better. If he ever let her bathe again. Cassandra wrung water out of her hair and pulled her dirty clothes back on. At least he didn\u2019t chivvy her about hurrying. Nor did he turn around, waiting until she drew even with him to walk back to his wagon.\r\n

***<\/p>\r\n\u201cLadies and Gentlemen, come visit the Oracle. She never lies. Ask her what you will. She\u2019s bound by the gods to tell you nothing but the truth. Come on up. Don\u2019t be shy\u2026\u201d\r\n\r\nCassandra, her hair still damp, wore the buckskin dress with fringe and beads that Gretch forced her to don for these occasions. \u201cBut I\u2019ll look like an Indian,\u201d she\u2019d protested the first time she saw it. \u201cThey know nothing of predicting the future. Besides, it doesn\u2019t fit me. It\u2019s too small.\u201d\r\n\r\nHe told her he wasn\u2019t about to spend money on material so she could make a new dress. He\u2019d shut up after that, but she plucked the rest of the tale from his mind.\r\n\r\nAn exiled Pawnee squaw wandered through his camp a few months before. He had his way with her, starved and beat her, then buried her after she died. This was her dress, and Cassandra shuddered every time she put it on. The dead woman\u2019s sorrow still clung to the well-chewed leather and made the dress feel like a shroud.\r\n\r\nThe crowd was smaller tonight. Maybe only twenty-five people. She glanced at them, scrying their secrets as plainly as if they\u2019d been stenciled on their foreheads. A heavily pregnant woman waddled forward, swatting at a slender twit of a man grabbing for her arm.\r\n\r\n\u201cI want to know if I\u2019m carrying a son this time,\u201d she demanded. \u201cNothing but daughters so far\u2026three of \u2019em. We\u2019ve nobody to help in the fields.\u201d She hesitated. \u201cOracle, if this,\u201d she flicked at the bulge of her belly, \u201cis another daughter. What must I do to have sons?\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cMay I touch you?\u201d Cassandra inquired.\r\n\r\nThe woman\u2019s eyes widened, then her head jerked forward in hesitant acquiescence.\r\n\r\nLaying a gentle hand on the woman\u2019s swollen abdomen, Cassandra closed her eyes as she called to Athena, asking for her wisdom. Under her questing hand the infant rolled over in its watery home, kicking softly.\r\n\r\nThe corners of Cassandra\u2019s mouth flickered upward. \u201c\u2019Tis a boy,\u201d she said. \u201cBut it will be a difficult birth. He is turned within you. You\u2019ll need a midwife. Your time will come upon you sooner than you expect. Within a fortnight. If a skilled woman isn\u2019t nearby, you\u2019ll need to travel to find one.\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cThank you for the news.\u201d The woman placed a coin in Cassandra\u2019s hand. \u201cThere\u2019s no need for a wise woman. You\u2019re mistaken. All my other births were quick and easy.\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cYou\u2019d do well to heed me,\u201d Cassandra implored. \u201cIf you don\u2019t, your son will be stillborn.\u201d\r\n\r\nWhite showed around the woman\u2019s pupils. Her nostrils flared, and she made the sign against evil as she faded back into the crowd.\r\n\r\nDestined to speak the truth, except those who hear it won\u2019t believe me\u2026<\/em>\r\n\r\nA man stepped forward. He was well-dressed, and handsome in a rakish sort of way. Brown curls framed a strong-boned face, and clear, gray eyes twinkled above several days\u2019 growth of stubble on his cheeks and chin.\r\n\r\n\u201cLouisa.\u201d He looked right at her while he called her by a name not hers. \u201cWhat on earth are you doing here, love. I\u2019ve been looking for you for months now. Please come home. The children miss you.\u201d\r\n\r\nGretch stepped out of the shadows. \u201cYou think this woman is your mistress, sir?\u201d He sounded incredulous. \u201cShe didn\u2019t tell me she had kin anywhere. And I did ask, yes I did.\u201d\r\n\r\nThe other man swung around with his hand extended and glanced at the wagon. \u201cSmythe, is it? Louisa isn\u2019t my mistress. She\u2019s my wife.\u201d He lowered his voice conspiratorially. \u201cShe has a bit of trouble now and then. Forgets who she is and wanders off.\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cAnd you are?\u201d Gretch asked disbelievingly, his rheumy blue eyes narrowed as he took in the expensive cut of the other man\u2019s clothing and his hand-tooled leather boots.\r\n\r\n\u201cCameron Tracy,\u201d the stranger replied, his hand still extended.\r\n\r\nIgnoring the proffered hand, Gretch turned toward Cassandra. \u201cDo you recognize this man?\u201d\r\n\r\nShe never seen him before in the entirety of her ridiculously long life. Cassandra tried to peer inside the stranger, but for once she couldn\u2019t see a thing.\r\n\r\nWhere will I be better off?<\/em> Ach,<\/em> I<\/em> know what I\u2019ve got here, and it\u2019s not very damn much<\/em>.\r\n\r\n\u201cCameron.\u201d She beamed warmly and threw herself into his arms. \u201cWhat a lovely surprise.\u201d\r\n\r\nPretty close to the truth. After all, whoever he is, he\u2019s quite the surprise.<\/em>\r\n\r\nQuesting outward as she clasped the tall stranger, her gift ran hard against an iron wall, and she found nothing in the way of clues.\r\n\r\nWhat in the goddess\u2019s name? He must have power of his own, but what manner of being is he?<\/em>\r\n\r\n\u201cThere, there, Louisa. Come along now. Do you have anything here you\u2019d like to bring with us?\u201d\r\n\r\nShe shook her head. \u201cThis dress isn\u2019t even mine. Wait while I get out of it and into my own clothes.\u201d\r\n\r\nCassandra ran lightly up the steps and into the interior of the wagon, breathing shallowly because Gretch\u2019s repulsive smell permeated everything he touched. She was glad for this Cameron person\u2026if that was his real name. Working quickly, she dragged the squaw\u2019s dress over her head and donned her dress, sweater, and jacket. Gretch had taken her boots, substituting the cheap leather clogs covering her feet. She considered leaving them, but didn\u2019t want to go barefoot.\r\n\r\nNo matter what happened next, it could hardly be worse than Gretch, with his stink and the lasciviousness, which was bound to do her in sooner or later. He wanted her, and hated himself for what he saw as weakness. She felt his loathing, mixed with lust, whenever he looked at her. A volatile combination that had to explode sooner or later. She\u2019d been in bad situations before, but Gretch was just about as disgusting a person as she\u2019d ever had to put up with.\r\n\r\nMaybe Demeter heard her prayers at the river today\u2014\r\n\r\n\u201cYou\u2019re not going nowhere. You ain\u2019t got no husband. That\u2019s nothing but a damned lie.\u201d Gretch\u2019s voice, pitched low so the people outside wouldn\u2019t hear him, raked across her nerves.\r\n\r\nHe\u2019d crept silently up the steps while she was lost in thought and stood blocking the wagon\u2019s only door as she tried to shoulder past him. \u201cYou put on a smile, get on out there, and tell some more fortunes. We need money.\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cIf you don\u2019t let me leave, I\u2019ll scream. That ought to bring someone in here to see what\u2019s going on.\u201d Freedom was so close. Desperation swept through her, and she contemplated pushing Gretch over backward down the steps. Her power was recovered to some extent. It might be enough\u2014\r\n\r\n\u201cSomething amiss, Louisa?\u201d The stranger had walked around to the stairs and stood just below Gretch, smiling up at her.\r\n\r\n\u201cNo, nothing. I\u2019m ready, dear.\u201d She dropped the coin from the pregnant woman onto a small table bolted to the side of the wagon. \u201cThere you go,\u201d she told Gretch. \u201cThe coin should be mine since I earned it with my prophecy, but I\u2019ll leave it for you as a sign of good faith.\u201d\r\n\r\nWill he let me go? Will he?<\/em>\r\n\r\nWhat will Cameron do if Gretch wants to fight?<\/em>\r\n\r\n\u201cYou\u2019ve not seen the last of me,\u201d Gretch hissed, spraying her with tobacco-flecked saliva, before turning to stomp down the rickety steps. He pushed Cameron out of the way. Muttering imprecations, he melted into the crowd.\r\n\r\nDisgusted, she wiped the spittle off her face.\r\n\r\n\u201cCome along,\u201d Cameron repeated, holding out a hand to guide her down the stairs. \u201cI only have one horse, but you can ride. I\u2019ll lead him. There\u2019s a town not too far up the way. We\u2019ll stop at the inn for what\u2019s left of tonight.\u201d\r\n\r\nShe followed him to the other side of the rutted track where he\u2019d left a bay gelding tied to a convenient branch. Vaulting smartly onto the animal\u2019s back, she nodded to him as she handed down the reins. He grabbed them and led the animal along the dark lane.\r\n\r\nTime slid past. When she was sure they were well away from Gretch and his wagon, she asked softly, \u201cWho are you, really?\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cWhy does that matter?\u201d\r\n\r\nCassandra thought about it. \u201cPerhaps a more pertinent question, sir, might be why you took it upon yourself to rescue me.\u201d\r\n\r\nHe chuckled, a soft sound that caressed her in the darkness. \u201cYou needed rescuing.\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cYes, but how could you tell?\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cWhy does that matter?\u201d He repeated his earlier question.\r\n\r\nAch, back to where we were five minutes ago<\/em>.\r\n\r\n\u201cYou do know I\u2019m not your long lost wife,\u201d she persisted.\r\n\r\n\u201cI don\u2019t have a wife. Not yet, anyway.\u201d Despite the darkness, and his face being turned away from her, she was nearly certain he was smiling.\r\n\r\n\u201cIs Cameron your real name?\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cWhat do you think?\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cWhy do you answer all my questions with others of your own?\u201d She felt frustrated. In spite of that, though, she was sure she wasn\u2019t in any immediate danger.\r\n\r\nHow would I know?<\/em>\r\n\r\nMy gifts are useless around him. They didn\u2019t help much when I let Gretch get hold of me, either. Or the ones before him.<\/em>\r\n\r\n\u201cThe inn is just around this next bend. I plan to ask for a single room in case Smythe comes snooping after us. I heard him threaten you there on the stairs. Don\u2019t worry, I\u2019ll sleep on the floor.\u201d\r\n\r\nShe hadn\u2019t been worried\u2026about that anyway. Cameron was undeniably appealing. He exuded an unconscious sensuality, the like of which she hadn\u2019t seen since the Roman Empire fell.\r\n\r\nChristianity tolled the death knell for sex. All their foolish rules about who could couple with whom were enough to make your head fall off. What earthly difference would it make if a maid fucked her second cousin? Yet that turned into a hanging offense\u2014at least for the maid\u2014as the Church became stronger and stronger. Clerics were practically the only ones who could read and write, which gave them an absurd advantage over everyone else. The goddess-forsaken black robes just wrote things down, presented their drivel as god\u2019s word, and that was that.\r\n\r\nShe made a small clucking noise, lost in the distant reaches of the past.\r\n\r\nMisunderstanding her, he spoke hesitantly. \u201cIf it bothers you that much, I suppose I could get two rooms. Until we\u2019re out of this region, though, I believe it best if we at least look married since I announced it in front of so many people. Gretch won\u2019t be the only one gossiping about the Oracle whose husband finally caught up with her.\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cThe room is fine. I was thinking of\u2026other things.\u201d\r\n

***<\/p>\r\nThey barely arrived at the public house in time. The innkeeper was in the process of locking his doors for the night as they rounded the corner and could see the place. Dashing ahead, Cameron did something\u2014likely a silver piece or two\u2014and the proprietor found them a room.\r\n\r\n\u201cKitchen\u2019s closed for the evening,\u201d the plump man in the stained apron cautioned. I can get you a loaf and a couple tankards though, to take up to your lodgings.\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cThat would be nice. Thank you.\u201d Cassandra smiled at the innkeeper. \u201cThanks too for finding space for us for tonight.\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cYou\u2019re most welcome, ma\u2019am.\u201d The man looked sharply at her, and she wondered if word of the amnestic oracle preceded their arrival, though she didn\u2019t see how it was possible since no one had passed them on the road.\r\n\r\n\u201cYou\u2019re in the last room on the right, up those stairs there.\u201d The innkeeper gestured. \u201cI\u2019ll put beer and bread out presently.\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cWhy don\u2019t you go on up, love,\u201d Cameron murmured. \u201cI know how tired you must be. I\u2019ll be along with our food and drink.\u201d He sat at one of the long, trestle tables lining the common room. Crossing his long legs, he propped his head on a closed fist.\r\n\r\n\u201cThanks, dear. I will.\u201d\r\n\r\nCassandra mounted the stairs, the risers uneven enough to demand her attention. She located their room easily since there were only four\u2014two on each side of a central hall\u2014and pushed the door open. Spying a candle stub stuck into what was likely a nail on a wooden board, she looked for matches. There didn\u2019t seem to be any.\r\n\r\nShould I<\/em>?\r\n\r\nProbably not.<\/em>\r\n\r\nAny magic\u2014even something so small as bringing fire\u2014wasn\u2019t a very good idea. Witch-hunters were everywhere. Generally humans with a small amount of their own power, they were sensitive to the feel of expended magic\u2014and driven by the generous bounty on witches.\r\n\r\nReturning to the common room, she scooped a few matches off the top of the hearth, blew an airy kiss at Cameron, and returned to their quarters.\r\n\r\nCandle lit, she took in the small, neat space tucked under the eaves of the two-story building. A bed, barely big enough for one, was shoved against one wall. From long habit, she sniffed the mattress pleased the straw was reasonably fresh. A small table with two cane-back chairs sat under the room\u2019s one window.\r\n\r\nShe toed off her boots and stockings, wriggling her toes, and padded barefoot to the window where she unhooked the shutter. A refreshingly chill breeze wafted in, and a nearly-full moon was just cresting the horizon. She sent a prayer to Diana, wondering if Apollo\u2019s twin still watched over the moon. After a bit, she heard a gentle tap at the door. Casandra opened it and moved aside so Cameron could enter.\r\n\r\n\u201cNot bad,\u201d he murmured, looking around the small space as he set the beer and bread on the table. \u201cThe proprietor took pity on us and put some butter and cheese in with the bread.\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cHungry.\u201d She scrabbled in the basket for the buttered bread, folding a slice over a thick slab of cheese. \u201cIt\u2019s been a long time since I\u2019ve had enough to eat.\u201d\r\n\r\nMaybe she should wait for Cameron, but she was too starved for manners. Chewing and swallowing, she sighed with pleasure. After a few bites, she picked up a tankard and chased the food with a long swallow of beer. The mildly alcoholic beverage hadn\u2019t aged long enough, but it tasted wonderful, and she swiped at her mouth to get rid of the foamy residue.\r\n\r\n\u201cOther than beating you and starving you, did that bastard do anything else?\u201d Cameron\u2019s words were quiet, but they held a deadly edge.\r\n\r\nCassandra stared at him, shocked. How could he have known?\r\n\r\nShe set her beer down. \u201cI told you he didn\u2019t feed me enough, but I never said anything else. Why would you think he hurt me?\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cBecause he had the look of a man who\u2019d do such things,\u201d Cameron replied, sipping at his own beer. \u201cThose bruises circling both wrists didn\u2019t happen by themselves.\u201d Raising a hand to forestall further questions, he added, \u201cFinish your bread and drink your beer. It\u2019s past time for sleep. We should be up and gone early.\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cThey usually serve breakfast at places like this\u2014\u201d she began, hoping for more food.\r\n\r\n\u201cWe\u2019ll be gone long before then,\u201d he broke in. \u201cWe\u2019ll need another horse, though. I\u2019m hoping there\u2019ll be a stable near here where I can buy one.\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cIf we wait for the stable to open, we can wait for breakfast. I\u2019ve missed as many meals as I plan to.\u201d\r\n\r\nHe laughed softly again and ate more of his dinner.\r\n\r\nHis laughter reminded her of springtime in warmer climes, redolent of newly sprung plants and delicate flowers. \u201cDo I amuse you?\u201d Her tone was sharper than she meant it to be. \u201cI\u2019m tired of being hungry. That\u2019s all.\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cI understand better than you might think. I\u2019ve been hungry myself. Would you like me to beg more bread from the kitchen?\u201d\r\n\r\nShe shook her head. \u201cNo. No point in drawing attention to ourselves.\u201d\r\n\r\nCassandra got to her feet and latched the window. She moved the candle to the table and said, \u201cBlow it out when you\u2019re done. Sleep was a good idea. I\u2019m exhausted.\u201d Kissing him lightly on one cheek, she whispered, \u201cThank you. You\u2019ve done me a great kindness, sir.\u201d\r\n

***<\/p>\r\nCameron wrapped his cloak tighter around him to ward off the chill of the evening and watched Cassandra from his seat at the table. She\u2019d fallen asleep almost immediately, which told him she didn\u2019t view him as a threat.\r\n\r\nHer classically sculpted face, with its high cheekbones and lush, red lips, held something both youthful and timeless. Abundant coppery hair, released from its pins, fanned over the thin pillow, a few strands falling onto the floor.\r\n\r\nWhat got into me<\/em>? She wasn\u2019t part of the plan<\/em>.\r\n\r\nStopping at that ludicrous medicine show hadn\u2019t been part of the plan, either. He\u2019d ridden right by it and then been drawn back by something. In truth, he was a good half mile beyond Smythe\u2019s wagon before a voice inside his head hammered mercilessly, insisting he retrace his steps.\r\n\r\nHe couldn\u2019t recall when a sending had been quite so pervasive, so he followed its command.\r\n\r\nHis gaze strayed to the rise and fall of unbound breasts, and his cock stirred. She really was lovely, this Cassandra. Was she really the Cassandra from Greek mythology? Could she possibly be after all this time? Most of the gods and goddesses had long since gone to ground. The modern world didn\u2019t believe in them anymore, and their response was to leave mankind to rot in its own excesses.\r\n\r\nCameron narrowed his eyes, still replaying the night\u2019s events. Once he returned to Smyth\u2019s wagon, he\u2019d watched from the shadows as the pregnant woman sought Cassandra\u2019s counsel, then denied its accuracy. More than anything, that spurred him to step forward, claiming to be her husband.\r\n\r\nDestined to tell the truth, yet never be believed. It was Cassandra\u2019s gift. And her curse as well.\r\n\r\nCameron was a creature of spirit. Forged by Sidhe magic in the old country, he held magic, but nothing so powerful as hers. He risked a small flicker of enchantment, shielding it well. Displays of power were hazardous because witch-hunters were always about, drawn by rich bounties offered by the Church.\r\n\r\nHis magic foundered against a wall, and he shuttered it. Even in sleep, she protected herself, but he didn\u2019t blame her. Her wards added to his suspicion that she had to be the original Cassandra.\r\n\r\nIt must be why he\u2019d felt enormous pressure to rescue her. His sending hadn\u2019t come from her, but from the gods. For a moment, he felt hopeful. Maybe they hadn\u2019t totally deserted mankind after all. In his mind\u2019s eye, he visualized empty altars all through the Scottish highlands and the Irish hills. Painfully deserted places, where people once brought offerings, grateful for what their gods could do.\r\n\r\nSadness displaced hope. Perhaps the gods wanted him to rescue Cassandra, but they\u2019d washed their hands of mankind.\r\n\r\nCameron railed against the Christian god and swore softly. \u201cHerne take the bloody Church.\u201d Even as he said the words, he realized the futility of his despair. Over time Christianity insidiously and systematically replaced once-living gods with their dead one. The Middle Ages were such a wretched time that people\u2014smallfolk and lords alike\u2014grasped greedily at salvation promised by the new religion.\r\n\r\nNever mind that deliverance from misery wasn\u2019t supposed to come until the afterlife.\r\n\r\nRewards in this<\/em> life for gullibility ran the gamut, from hangings and confiscated property, to maiden daughters fucked by priests before\u2014and after\u2014being tossed into nunneries. He shuddered, reliving his anguish as an image of Leda, his own sweet Leda burned at the stake, blasted him with misery.\r\n\r\nHe\u2019d known for hundreds of years that the dead god was just that\u2026dead. The black-robed nightmares who passed for priests created the rules\u2014enforcing them with brutal efficiency. Priests touted their rules as the indisputable word of a god no one had ever seen, but who couldn\u2019t be denied if you wanted to protect your immortal soul.\r\n\r\nHorse crap!\r\n\r\nAnger turned his guts to a writhing, burning mass of pain. He had to calm down or he\u2019d never sleep. Gazing at the woman helped. He focused on her beauty, wondered how her silken hair would feel twined tight in his hands, and his tight muscles relaxed.\r\n\r\nCassandra stirred, murmuring in her sleep. Perhaps she sensed his torment.\r\n\r\nHe blew out the candle and shut his eyes. He could doze sitting up. He\u2019d done it lots of times. When they imprisoned him in The Clink in Southwark after Leda\u2019s death in sixteen eighty-three, he\u2019d been chained to a damp, moldy wall for months with only rats for company. He had to do everything sitting then, and he remembered rotting in his own filth. Even after he turned magic to the task, it took more time than he cared to think about for the festering sores on his skin to heal. If there hadn\u2019t been a prison uprising, he would\u2019ve swung along with all the other heretics\u2026\r\n\r\nDamn the sodding Church of England and the Catholics, too.\r\n\r\nHe didn\u2019t recall falling asleep, but the gray light of dawn woke him. He glanced at Cassandra. She\u2019d kicked off the covers. All of one leg was visible, lean, muscled, and appealing. The cockstand he always woke with stiffened further, and his breath hitched. Gods, she was so sensual, yet with a beauty that transcended anything he\u2019d come across.\r\n\r\nWithout thought, he got to his feet and knelt by her bed. Laying a hand on her shoulder, he rocked her gently. \u201cTime to get up.\u201d\r\n\r\nHer green eyes, clear as fine agates, flew open, and she looked at him, tracing fingertips along the top of his cheekbone.\r\n\r\n\u201cYou have dark smudges beneath those fine, gray eyes.\u201d She opened her arms in a silent invitation, and he was lost.\r\n\r\nCameron cradled her face in his hands before he closed his mouth over hers. She threaded her outstretched arms around him, splaying her hands across his back as she opened her mouth to his kiss.\r\n\r\nShe tasted of promise, of warmth and love\u2014all the things he\u2019d denied himself since Leda\u2019s death. He\u2019d taken the occasional woman when his balls ached so fiercely he had no choice, but he\u2019d never offered his heart again. Fear drove a stake through lust so primal, it was all he could to so to hold himself back. He wanted to push her skirts up and plunge into her, filling her with everything he had. If he did, he\u2019d never leave her side.\r\n\r\nShe thrust her tongue inside his mouth and moaned low in her throat, pulling him into the bed with her. He resisted, but slipped a hand between her legs beneath her skirts. Scorching heat met his fingers, and his cock twitched violently inside his breeks, on the edge of orgasm. He rubbed hard little circles around the seat of her pleasure, and she moved a hand to curve around his erect flesh.\r\n\r\nHe felt her push into his mind and didn\u2019t block her. He wanted to feel her hunger, her desire. More, he wanted her to feel his. Her hips bucked, and he moved his fingers inside her in time to feel the rhythmic contractions of her climax. She didn\u2019t even have to stroke him. The heat from her hands through his trousers was all it took for him to spend, jerking and spasming against her touch.\r\n\r\nHe broke their kiss and drank her in, enthralled by her beauty. Passion splotches covered her pale skin, and she glowed in the early morning light.\r\n\r\nCassandra grinned. \u201cExcellent beginning. Take those clothes off, so we can do this properly.\u201d\r\n\r\nSmiling faintly, he shook his head. \u201cI\u2019d love to, but there\u2019s no time\u2014at least not right now. The sun\u2019s up. We need to leave soon.\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cBreakfast?\u201d Her voice sounded fuzzy. Swallowing, she tried again. \u201cYou don\u2019t have that horse yet, do you?\u201d\r\n\r\nHe shook his head. After brushing a kiss across her mouth, he got to his feet and unbuttoned his breeks. A corner of her sheets worked to clean himself before he set his trousers to rights.\r\n\r\n\u201cIf you don\u2019t have the horse, there\u2019s likely time to eat. I think I smell bread.\u201d She wrinkled her nose, sniffing.\r\n\r\n\u201cI smell it too.\u201d He sat next to her and took her hand. His heart thudded against his chest, and his tongue stumbled over unfamiliar words. \u201cI\u2014 What just happened was special for me.\u201d\r\n\r\nHer smile faded, replaced by a thoughtful look. \u201cFor me too. I could use sex to escape from you, but I don\u2019t want to.\u201d\r\n\r\nHe crushed her to him, breathing in the fresh, earthy scent of her, before scrambling back to his feet. \u201cI\u2019m on my way to find another mount for us. Meet you in the common room. If there\u2019s something ready by the time I return, we can eat.\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cI\u2019m sure I can talk the innkeeper out of something.\u201d\r\n\r\nCameron didn\u2019t doubt it for a moment. He couldn\u2019t stop smiling. Joy was such an unfamiliar feeling, it surprised him, but he didn\u2019t chase it away. He was halfway out the door when he turned and shut it, closing their room from prying ears.\r\n\r\n\u201cRemember your name, Louisa,\u201d he spoke low. \u201cLet\u2019s get out of her without problems.\u201d\r\n\r\nShe smiled, a slow, lazy affair that lit up her mossy eyes. \u201cI can do that.\u201d\r\n

***<\/p>\r\nHe looked at her with an odd expression before letting himself out into the corridor. Delight and something indefinable that she didn\u2019t have a name for struggled for ascendency on his finely wrought features.\r\n\r\nWhat was in his mind?\r\n\r\nShe could\u2019ve sent power auguring into his thoughts, but using magic was a risk, and if they were going to be lovers, it was better for him to tell her things, rather than her helping herself. She stretched her arms above her head and pushed herself to a sit. The memory of his cock coming against her hand made her hot all over again, but she smoothed her skirts down. There\u2019d be lots of orgasms with Cameron. No need to bring herself off and risk Aphrodite\u2019s wrath.\r\n\r\nShe didn\u2019t think there\u2019d been any other guests at the inn the previous night. If there had been, they\u2019d been quiet as ghosts. In lieu of the comb she didn\u2019t have, she ran her fingers through her tangled locks before standing. She placed her palms flat against the low ceiling, pushing kinks out of her muscles, before slipping into her worn boots. Nothing more to gather, so she left the room and made her way back down the uneven stairs.\r\n\r\nThe common room was empty, but someone had lit a fire in the stone hearth. Sitting as close to its warmth as she could get, Cassandra kept a close eye on the swinging door she presumed led to the kitchen. There was<\/em> bread baking. The odor was much more pronounced down here. Her mouth watered, and she wiped at it, feeling mildly ashamed of the trail of saliva.\r\n\r\n\u201cOracle?\u201d A thready voice rose out of nowhere.\r\n\r\nShe searched the shadows, seeking its origin. \u201cYes? Come closer whoever you are. I won\u2019t hurt you.\u201d\r\n\r\nA maid of perhaps thirteen crept barefoot from a darkened hall. \u201cYou be the lady who tells the future?\u201d The child bent over as a deep, phlegmy cough shook her slight frame.\r\n\r\n\u201cYes, child. How can I help you?\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cMe Da, he tol\u2019 me not t\u2019 bother you. He says I\u2019ll get better, but, Oracle, I think I am a-dyin\u2019 and I want to know so\u2019s I might make my peace with the Christian god. Me Ma, she prays to the Old Ones see, and I used to be leavin\u2019 \u2019em milk and corn, too, but I wants to get into heaven.\u201d Another fit of coughing ripped through her, and she spat a glob of bloody mucus onto the ground, wiping at it with one foot.\r\n\r\nOh my, I don\u2019t need my gift to answer you, child.<\/em>\r\n\r\n\u201cYou need to return to your bed,\u201d Cassandra began, but the child interrupted her.\r\n\r\n\u201cAm I a-dying, Oracle?\u201d\r\n\r\nCassandra met the child\u2019s dark brown eyes, rimmed with the pain of the wasting sickness gradually sucking the life out of her. She opened her mouth to craft a soothing lie, but nothing came.\r\n\r\nBound to tell the truth\u2026 <\/em>\r\n\r\n\u201cWould the missus like some coffee?\u201d The innkeeper emerged from the kitchen carrying a mug and a pot. Noticing his daughter, he drew his brows together. \u201cBessie, you get on back to the kitchen. I\u2019ll not have you bothering the guests. I told you that afore.\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cYes, Papa,\u201d the child mumbled before turning to leave.\r\n\r\n\u201cSorry for that, missus. Child\u2019s got the grippe. I\u2019m sure she\u2019ll be better soon. How about coffee? I made some up fresh for you.\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cYes, please.\u201d She struggled to expunge the specter of the dying child from her mind.\r\n\r\nShould I tell him, so he can prepare for her loss? Ach, probably best to not interfere\u2026 Besides, he wouldn\u2019t believe me anyway. <\/em>\r\n\r\n\u201cMy, uh,\u201d she stumbled over the word husband, then tried again. \u201cWhat I mean to say is that Cameron is out looking to find another horse. I\u2019m sure he\u2019ll want some coffee too, when he gets back here.\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cYes, he certainly would.\u201d Cameron had just let himself in through the main door. \u201cFound you a nice little filly, love. She cost us dear, but she\u2019s perfect for you. I took her around to the stables and told the boy to get her and my bay ready to go.\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cMight I interest you in breakfast to go with that coffee,\u201d the proprietor interrupted, apparently concerned his only paying customers might leave before he\u2019d had a chance to sell them something further.\r\n\r\n\u201cSure, so long as it doesn\u2019t take long to prepare,\u201d Cameron replied. \u201cWe have a long way to go today.\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cEggs, bread and cheese for six pence?\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cPerfect,\u201d Cassandra said. \u201cWe can eat those as we ride.\u201d\r\n

***<\/p>\r\nThey\u2019d been traveling for hours through thick timber, the vegetation so dense Cassandra doubted they\u2019d be able to force their horses through the undergrowth if they left the track. She picked out pines, firs, poplars, aspens, oaks, and sycamores, plus fragrant ferns and other shrubbery intermingled with the tree boles along the well-beaten road. The summer sun was warm on her hair, and she was enjoying the feel of a horse between her legs again.\r\n\r\nAs they rode, she kept quiet to see what Cameron chose to tell her. After an entire morning of silence, though, she couldn\u2019t stand it any longer. \u201cWhere are we going?\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cWondered when you\u2019d get around to asking about that.\u201d He grinned. His worried mood from earlier seemed to have lifted.\r\n\r\n\u201cAre you going to tell me?\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cSure. We\u2019re headed across the state of New York, then into Canada. More precisely, we\u2019re on our way to Caldwell. From there we\u2019ll board a steamer traveling north on Lake George. Next, we\u2019ll head to Fort Ticonderoga. Then it\u2019s another steamer on up Lake Champlain. That will get us to Canada.\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cWhy there?\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cIf anyone stops us and asks, our home is in Montreal.\u201d He hesitated. \u201cThe real reason, though, is people are more tolerant of those like us in Canada. That\u2019s where I was headed\u2026before I found you. Plus, the United States is only a handful of steps away from an internal war. I\u2019ve fought in lots of wars I didn\u2019t believe in. Wasn\u2019t much interested in being conscripted into another.\u201d\r\n\r\nHe quirked an eyebrow. \u201cHow\u2019s your French?\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cPassable.\u201d She paused. \u201cBut then, so are my Latin, Greek, German, and Italian. Of course I know about the war. Even tried to tell a few people but no one believed me\u2014\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cYou really are Cassandra, aren\u2019t you?\u201d He reined in, bringing the bay gelding to a halt.\r\n\r\nShe looked at him strangely. \u201cOf course. Who\u2019d you think I was?\u201d\r\n\r\nHe shrugged, not quite meeting her eyes. \u201cI wasn\u2019t exactly sure, but the clues pointed that way.\u201d\r\n\r\nShe cocked her head to one side. \u201cThe bigger question for me is who are you?\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cThere\u2019s no short answer to that.\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cHow about the long version, then?\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cLater,\u201d he murmured, neatly sidestepping her attempt to divert the conversation. \u201cBack to the question of where we live\u2026 Remember, Montreal is our home. I\u2019m in lumber. We have two children, Apollo and Diana. That should be easy enough for you to remember.\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cWhy not Betty and Joe?\u201d she asked bitterly. I\u2019ve spent three thousand years trying to forget Apollo.\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cHush!\u201d He rounded on her, his gray eyes sparking with anger. \u201cHow in the nine hells do you think I figured out I needed to stop for you last night? The gods forced me to alter my route. Whether you like it or no, they\u2019re still watching out for you. Best say a prayer. Quick.\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cWhat do you mean forced you?\u201d\r\n\r\nHe glanced away. \u201cI have visions. It\u2019s all you need to know at the moment. Come on. Lots of miles left to go today.\u201d He kneed his horse into a trot, and she did the same.\r\n\r\nCassandra thought as she rode. She did offer up a quick prayer, biting off a few hairs and tossing them back over her right shoulder as she muttered her expiations.\r\n\r\nIt\u2019s not possible. Apollo hasn\u2019t thought about me even once since he ruined my life.<\/em>\r\n\r\nStartled by the sound of horses\u2019 hooves, she turned in her saddle. \u201cCameron. Look there.\u201d She pointed at the unmistakable sheriff\u2019s posse bearing down on them. \u201cGuess Gretch decided to put up a fight. Who else does he have to make money for him?\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cWe\u2019ll wait and speak with them.\u201d Cameron sounded wary, as if he were expecting the worst and girding himself to fight. \u201cWe can\u2019t run. It\u2019d look bad. Besides, there\u2019s no place to hide. Let me answer their questions. No one will believe you.\u201d\r\n\r\nBitterness coated her throat like sour acid. \u201cTruer words were never spoken.\u201d She reined her horse to face the posse summoned power so she\u2019d have it to hand. She\u2019d never return to Gretch without putting up a hell of a fight.\r\n\r\n\u201cMr. Tracy?\u201d The man with the badge pulled up next to them. The rest of the posse, Gretch among them, hung back, waiting expectantly.\r\n\r\n\u201cYes, that would be me. What can I do for you?\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cThis man,\u201d he pointed at Gretch, \u201clodged a complaint against you. Says you stole his wife.\u201d The sheriff stared intently at Cassandra. Remembering what passed for manners in this age and country, she demurely dropped her gaze and dredged up a blush.\r\n\r\n\u201cSeems he\u2019s got that backward.\u201d Cameron spoke gently. \u201cLouisa, here, is my wife. She gets confused sometimes and wanders off. You should see the bruises that monster inflicted on her. He kept her chained up like a dog. She told me all about it last night. Show them, love.\u201d\r\n\r\nShe dutifully rolled up her sleeves, wondering how Cameron could have known about the iron chain. Discolored, broken skin circled both her wrists, ugly and blotchy in the bright sunlight.\r\n\r\n\u201cGuess you couldn\u2019t very well have done that,\u201d the sheriff said to Cameron, eying the greenish flesh of her half-healed injuries. \u201cThose have been there for a while.\u201d He glanced over his shoulder at Gretch. \u201cDid you inflict those wounds on this woman?\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cI have no idea how she came by them,\u201d Gretch snarled. \u201cShe always was a clumsy wench.\u201d\r\n\r\nNodding to himself, the sheriff turned back to Cameron and Cassandra. \u201cWhere are the two of you headed?\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cCanada.\u201d Cassandra spoke without thinking.\r\n\r\n\u201cYou\u2019re Canadian?\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cActually, we\u2019re both from Massachusetts.\u201d Cameron cut in quickly. \u201cBut we chose to settle in Montreal. I have a lumber business there. Lots of building going on, so it seemed like a logical choice.\u201d He smiled at the sheriff. \u201cDo you suppose we might go, sir? There are many miles betwixt us and home.\u201d\r\n\r\nThe sheriff swiveled in his saddle, looking right at Cassandra. \u201cWhose wife are you?\u201d he demanded.\r\n\r\nCan I force a lie to cross my lips? <\/em>\r\n\r\nDo I tell him the truth\u2014that I am no man\u2019s wife\u2014and have him jail me for harlotry? Does it even matter if he won\u2019t believe anything I say? <\/em>\r\n\r\nHelp me, Apollo,<\/em> she prayed in desperation. It\u2019s been so long. Please, please lift that damned spell. You\u2019re<\/em> a beautiful god. And once I loved you so. <\/em>\r\n\r\nShe took a deep, measured breath. \u201cI would be his, sir,\u201d she replied, pointing at Cameron. \u201cThat animal, Gretch, used me sorely. I was neither his slave, nor his wife, yet he beat me and starved me. He\u2019s the one you should arrest.\u201d\r\n\r\nShe held her breath. Would he believe her? Or was she on her way back to iron manacles, the whip, half-rotten food, Gretch\u2019s stink, and his twisted lust?\r\n\r\nCameron reached out, laying a hand over hers, and she leaned into him as their mounts stood side-by-side. Both of them watched the sheriff as he mulled over what to do. After what felt like an interminable time, he said, \u201cFeels to me like the two of you fit together. Mrs. Tracy, you\u2019re too much of a lady for the likes of Gretch Smythe. Travel safely.\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cYou\u2019re not letting them go?\u201d Gretch\u2019s aggrieved tone filled the air.\r\n\r\n\u201cYes, as a matter of fact, I am,\u201d the sheriff replied, turning his horse so he faced Gretch. \u201cIf you know what\u2019s good for you, you\u2019ll ride out of here and back to that wagon of yours. When you get there, you\u2019ll clear out of my territory. Lying to a peace officer is worth thirty days in jail.\u201d\r\n\r\nGretch\u2019s eyes widened in shock. Hauling his horse\u2019s head around so sharply the mare whinnied in pain, he dug his heels into her side and was gone in clouds of dust.\r\n\r\n\u201cSorry for the trouble, folks.\u201d The sheriff tipped his hat. Gesturing to his five-man posse, they turned their mounts and trotted slowly along the thickly-wooded track.\r\n\r\n\u201cI need to get down,\u201d she murmured once they were alone again. \u201cApollo heard me, and I must have my feet on the earth to thank him properly.\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cWhat did you ask for?\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cI begged him to lift the curse and let the sheriff believe me, so I wouldn\u2019t have to go back to Gretch. I\u2019m almost afraid to trust it, but this is the first time since the God of Prophecy\u2019s malediction that anyone\u2019s believed what I\u2019ve told them.\u201d\r\n\r\nOne corner of her mouth twitched upward. \u201cI even managed to tell half a lie without choking on the words.\u201d Slipping down from her horse, she tossed the reins to Cameron, wondering if her other gifts had disappeared along with her curse. If the curse had truly been lifted that is.\r\n\r\nOh please, please let it be gone\u2026<\/em>\r\n\r\nThe half-taste of freedom was so heady she could barely contain her anticipation.\r\n\r\nA crow fluttered down, landing on her shoulder. \u201cLittle one?\u201d she murmured hopefully.\r\n\r\n\u201cSister,\u201d the bird croaked.\r\n\r\nRelief swept through her. Thank the Goddess. I can still understand him.<\/em>\r\n\r\n\u201cThe shining one would have you know that you are released. He says he\u2019d have done so long ago, had you but asked.\u201d The crow quorked his message, with a lyrical chirrup at the end.\r\n\r\nIt couldn\u2019t have been that simple<\/em>.\r\n\r\nOr could it? Ach, what a stubborn fool I\u2019ve been to not see the truth right under my nose.<\/em>\r\n\r\n\u201cBlessings, little one,\u201d she said to the crow. \u201cTell your shining one \u2018thank you\u2019 from me.\u201d Cassandra stroked the soft places just behind the crow\u2019s head. He cawed again and ruffled his feathers, leaning into her gentle hand before taking wing.\r\n\r\nTurning to Cameron, she asked, \u201cHave you a knife or scissors?\u201d\r\n\r\nHe nodded. Dismounting from the bay, he pulled a short dagger out of its scabbard and handed it to her. \u201cMy thanks,\u201d she said, as she laid it in the middle of a small clearing between two sycamore trees. Squatting, she gathered bits of bark, twigs and leaves into a pile. When she had enough to get a fire started she stood, stepped out of her clothes and pulled the pins from her hair. Naked, her hair swirling round her like a living flame, she raised her hands to the skies in supplication.\r\n\r\nA prayer she\u2019d not given voice to since she left Troy flowed from her lips in ancient Greek. Tears came with it, streaming hot and bitter down her face. With them came visions of long, wasted years, tripping over one another like unwelcome guests called to bear witness. Snuffling, she hunkered down, calling on her magic to light the fire. Once it was blazing skyward, she picked up the dagger and sawed off several locks of her hair, feeding them to the flames as she continued to pay homage, humbly thanking Apollo for hearing her plea.\r\n\r\nCameron took his place next to her, naked as well. Crouched low beside the flames, he joined his voice to hers. Druidic symbols were tattooed into his skin, mingling with fine, white lines of hundreds of scars.\r\n\r\n\u201cApollo did<\/em> send you to me. He must have. There\u2019s no other way you could have found me.\u201d She was crying again. \u201cSomehow, through all these years, the old gods\u2014our gods\u2014still live.\u201d Exultation swept through her, potent as strong wine.\r\n\r\n\u201cI never doubted it. Not really.\u201d Cameron stood, pulling her to her feet so he could fold her into his arms. Lips buried in her hair, he whispered, \u201cJoin your life with mine, Cassandra. I don\u2019t fully understand yet, but this seems to have been foretold.\u201d\r\n\r\nShe breathed in the clean, woodsy scent of him. \u201c\u2019Twould be heresy not to since the gods led you to me.\u201d\r\n\r\nTracing a few of his scars with her fingertips, she wondered about the wounds and how it was that a Celt understood the Greek prayers.\r\n\r\n\u2019Tis a tale best left for another day. He and I shall have infinite days together.<\/em> As soon as she thought the words, she heard truth in them and it warmed her soul.\r\n\r\nShe opened her mouth to tell him, but he shook his head. \u201cI see the same,\u201d he murmured. \u201cIt\u2019s why I asked you to become one with me. I never thought I\u2019d love another woman, but I\u2019m falling in love with you.\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cI\u2019ll make certain you never regret it.\u201d\r\n\r\nRather than words, he answered her with a kiss.\r\n\r\nCassandra leaned against him, and together they watched the flames of their fire kiss the afternoon sky.\r\n\r\n \r\n\r\n \r\n\r\n \r\n\r\n \r\n\r\n \r\n\r\n \r\n\r\n \r\n\r\n \r\n\r\n \r\n\r\n \r\n\r\n \r\n\r\n ","_et_gb_content_width":""},"categories":[],"portfolio_category":[41],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/anngimpel.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/portfolio\/602"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/anngimpel.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/portfolio"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/anngimpel.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/portfolio"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/anngimpel.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/618"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/anngimpel.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=602"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/anngimpel.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=602"},{"taxonomy":"portfolio_category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/anngimpel.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fportfolio_category&post=602"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}