It was the height of the summer season and the heat could be felt everywhere, even up in the northern regions of Tascela. In the town of Northfield, the heat sapped at the townspeople’s energies, leaving everyone lethargic. Inside of her family’s bakery, Kathleen placed her head on her hand, her green eyes beginning to close as her drowsiness began to overtake her. No one had come in all day, staying in their houses or leaving the town all together for the coolness the nearby river provided. She was almost asleep when the door opened, causing her eyes to quickly open and her attention to shift on the person who had just come in.
It was a man around Kathleen’s age, maybe either seventeen or eighteen. His blonde hair was curly and the slight breeze floating in from the open windows played with it, causing it to move. He didn’t seem to notice it as his blue eyes roved around the room, eventually falling on Kathleen sitting at the front counter. When their eyes met, Kathleen felt something she had never felt before pool inside of her and, when he smiled, it began to rise to her cheeks, causing them to heat up. She straightened up quickly under his gaze, her sleepiness chasing away in view of the handsome man standing in front of her. As he walked up to her, she smoothed out her skirts, suddenly feeling conscious about the flour stains on them, trying in vain to hide them from his sight.
“Hello,” a voice said suddenly. Looking up from her task of trying to clean herself up, Kathleen found the man in question staring expectantly at her.
She leaned against the counter in front of her, placing her head on top of her hand, trying to feign casualness and attempting to quell the nervousness inside of her. If the look on the man’s face was anything to go off of, she had failed miserably in that task. Still, she tried anyway, pretending to ignore his concerned expression.
“Hey,” she replied, trying to sound as normal as she could. The man’s concern had a hint of amusement to it, as if he found her attempts at being casual funny, maybe even slightly endearing if the small smile on his face filled with warmth was anything to go by. “What can I do for you?”
“I was trying to surprise my mentor with something,” the man explained. Kathleen wondered suddenly who his mentor was and if it was anyone she knew. In the small town of Northfield, everyone knew everyone, yet Kathleen could have sworn she had never met this man before in her life. But his mentor, though…. Almost as if he could see Kathleen’s confusion in her face, the man broke off and started on a new topic of conversation. “Forgive my manners, my lady. My name is Matheson Wells, apprentice under Archer Michael Johnson. I take it that you know him?”
Kathleen nodded, feeling her cheeks heat up at his term of address for her. She did know Archer Johnson; everyone in the town knew him. He was one of thirty members of the Tascelan Archers, a group of officers in the Tascelan Army, charged with the duty of protecting Tascela and keeping up with current events in the kingdom. Each archer was assigned a specific province and, for the past ten or so years, Archer Johnson was the archer of Pasque Province. Every few years, he would move to a different town, helping with various tasks, ensuring that the area he was in charge of was protected and safe. For a little over a year now, he had lived in Northfield. He was a friendly man, always willing to lend a hand. Once, a few months beforehand, he had helped Kathleen’s family out after they had been robbed from a group of bandits, tracking the thieves down and returning the money that had been taken from the Hayes’ family.
Matheson nodded swiftly when he saw that Kathleen had known who he was talking about. “I thought as much.”
“How long have you been studying under him?” Kathleen asked, wondering why she had never seen him around before.
Matheson suddenly appeared to be self-conscious, almost as if he was uncomfortable answering the question. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, running a hand through his curly hair. “Can I tell you the truth, dear madam?”
Kathleen nodded, feeling as if the man in front of her was about to let her in on a secret.
That perception was pushed even further when Matheson’s voice dropped to a whisper, leaning across the counter to be closer to her. “Only a week.”
She didn’t really see why that would be so hard to admit, which made his actions all the more amusing to her. Kathleen let a small chuckle out, her smile widening when she saw Matheson himself grinning.
“So, you said you’re trying to surprise Archer Johnson with something?” Kathleen asked, turning the conversation back to its original topic. “May I ask why?”
Matheson took a deep breath before replying. “Today’s his birthday. While I haven’t known him for that long, I still want to get him something.” He paused, then asked, “What do you think would be best to get him?”
“Well, I would recommend…” Kathleen went on to describe some of the pastries the bakery sold for a few minutes, pausing every now and then to see if Matheson was following along with her. He nodded along, appearing to be hanging onto her every word. By the end of her recommendations, she found that she loved the chance to talk with the archer’s apprentice, finding him to be one of the easiest people to talk with. Matheson chose what he thought Archer Johnson would like the most, thanking Kathleen for her help. He started to leave, then quickly stopped in the doorway.
“Forgive me again for my horrible manners, madam, but what is your name?”
It wasn’t until he had asked that when she realized that the answer to that question had never been brought up in their conversation. “Oh! It’s Kathleen. Kathleen Hayes.”
“Well, Kathleen, I hope to see you soon.” With that, he was gone and Kathleen found herself hoping that he would stop by again and they could talk more.
And, over the course of the next two months, that was exactly what happened.
Matheson stopped by every day at the bakery, talking with Kathleen every time he did so. His visits started out just lasting ten or so minutes, but--as the heat of summer gave way to the cool breezes of fall--their daily visits became longer and longer, to the point where, once a week, he stayed for dinner with Kathleen and her family. Upon one such meeting, Archer Johnson had joined with his apprentice. Soon, Matheson’s mentor became a part of their weekly dinners and thus a part of Kathleen’s life. Quickly, the sense of formality that had existed between the two of them was gone and Kathleen found a good friend in Archer Johnson, or--as Kathleen began using his first name more and more--Michael.
And then, in late September, on Kathleen’s eighteenth birthday, the archer apprentice asked for Kathleen’s hand in marriage. They began planning out details for their wedding ceremony almost immediately afterwards, planning on it happening as soon as possible. Abruptly, though, Matheson and Michael had to leave, heading to the northern country of Eskil for an early winter mission.
When he came back, Matheson started to be more moody, acting more angry than happy most of the time. He was easy to offend, becoming defensive and argumentative at the drop of a hat. Still, Kathleen didn’t let those aspects of his personality bother her, focusing instead on the love she felt for him and the future life she would have as the wife of a promising archer--an officer position in the Tascelan Army almost as high of standing as a knight.
They got married in late winter, when the snow drifts of winter were just beginning to thaw, allowing for the spring flowers to push their way through the melting snow, blooming in pretty colors. The wedding ceremony was simple but elegant and the day was a rare one where Matheson was in a good mood, seemingly incapable of being angry. After the reception, walking hand-in-hand with the handsome Tascelan apprentice archer, Kathleen felt like she was living in a fairy tale come to life. And that feeling only increased nine months after the wedding, when she held her son, Thomas Wells.
But the dream quickly turned to dust three years later, ending on a winter night in late November, when Matheson was met with the news that he failed his final exam, meaning that he had failed in achieving his dreams of being a Tascelan archer. All the small times where Matheson had been angry, all the small moments that Kathleen had pushed aside in favor of the love she felt for him, had exploded, showing a side of Matheson that Kathleen had only seen hints of, a side of him that she didn’t want to believe had existed. He stormed home to Kathleen and Thomas, spewing threats and promises of revenge at Michael and the entirety of the kingdom of Tascela. He packed his bags, asking Kathleen to do the same. At that moment, Michael had arrived, trying to placate the anger of his former apprentice, but nothing he said could diminish Matheson’s hurt and his feelings of betrayal. Again, he turned to Kathleen, asking her to leave with him. She held three-year-old Thomas close to her chest, looking fearfully at Michael, who looked as equally distraught over Matheson’s attitude and behavior as she was. Never before had she seen her husband so angry, so demanding. Looking back at Matheson’s dark, angry eyes, she shook her head.
Matheson’s anger quickly turned to face her. She became the target of Matheson’s anger and threats. He stepped closer to her, yelling at Kathleen to get ready to leave. When she still shook her head, Matheson tried to yank Thomas out of her hands. Michael intervened at that point, shoving Matheson away from her and Thomas. Matheson started to fall, grabbing at Michael to catch his balance. The two men fell to the floor, a stray elbow catching Kathleen in the face. She gasped at the pain, her grip on her son tightening as she stumbled away from the fight before her.
“Stop!” she shouted. “Matheson, stop it!” Thomas started crying, clearly upset by the events happening around him. Both of their cries fell on deaf ears, as Matheson and Micheal continued to exchange blows. Finally, after what seemed like hours, they stopped. Matheson stood up, a hand holding his bleeding and broken nose. He looked over at Kathleen, who was staring wide-eyed at him.
“Kathy,” he began, looking apologetic.
But she was already shaking her head. “Go,” she mumbled.
Matheson took a half-step towards her, but was stopped by Michael, who had scrambled up to stand in between them.
“She said ‘go,’” he said. “So leave.”
Matheson’s sad and broken face was quickly replaced by a face etched with anger in every line--a change that happened so fast that Kathleen wondered if he had ever been sorry in the first place. “Fine. But if you think I’m walking out of my son’s life, you’re wrong. I’ll be back, for revenge and for my son.” And with those final words, Matheson left.
Just an hour later, enough time to ensure that Kathleen and Thomas were okay, Michael left, taking off in the winter storm to find Matheson. For the next three weeks, Kathleen waited--her impatience growing as each day slipped by with no news from either men--moving back in with her parents on the floor above the family bakery. She kept watch for Michael, spending long hours far into the night staring out of the window, watching as the worst snowstorm in history sent snow swirling around. She fretted endlessly on Matheson’s parting words, his last words running rampant in her head, bringing up visions of him stealing Thomas away from her, of his anger turning onto her baby boy, of Thomas having to face those dark, angry eyes. And it was those visions that would give her an idea, leaving her to pack a small bag filled with some of Thomas’ things, asking around about the neighboring kingdom of Malin.
It was during one of her nightly vigils in late December when Michael would return, opening the door to the bakery, the wind from outside bringing in the swirling snow inside.
He shut the door quickly and, for a few seconds, he and Kathleen simply stared at each other, neither of them ready to break the silence growing between them. It was Michael who broke it, with two simple words.
“He’s gone.”
Those two words were all Kathleen needed to collapse into a nearby chair. She blinked back tears, remembering the past four years that she had spent with a man she loved with all her heart. And, guessing from the way her heart felt like it was breaking, she still loved him. “Where did he go?”
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
“Aspaya.”
“Aspaya?” she asked, feeling her heart break even more. “But that’s--”
“Two whole kingdoms away, yes,” Michael finished, shrugging off his pack and placing it on the chair next to Kathleen. “I don’t know what he’s planning, but it isn’t good.”
And for the billionth time in the past three weeks, Matheson’s words echoed through Kathleen’s mind. “I’ll be back, for revenge and for my son.”
“Thomas isn’t safe here,” she said. “Matheson knows where he is.”
“And? We can still protect him.”
Kathleen stubbornly shook her head. “We need to do more than that. We need to hide Thomas.”
“Kathy, what are you suggesting?”
Kathleen didn’t say anything, trying to work up the courage to voice her plan. Saying it out loud meant that it was really happening; saying nothing meant that it wasn’t real. Finally, after swallowing, she said it. “I want to give Thomas to the care of someone else, located somewhere that Matheson would never think to look.”
Michael blinked in surprise. “You want to give up your firstborn son, your only child?”
Kathleen’s resolve diminished then reignited as she remembered the look in Matheson’s eyes.
“I’ll be back, for revenge and for my son.” His blue eyes normally filled with happiness and love were filled with anger, as if love could never be in them again.
“If it’s Thomas’ best chance of survival, then, yes, Michael.”
“Do you hear yourself, Kathleen?” Michael asked. “His best chance is with you, his mother!”
“Thomas cannot stay here, Michael! Matheson knows where he lives!”
“Then move!”
“I can’t!” Kathleen shouted. The tears she had been blinking back earlier fell from her eyes, leaving tear tracks down her cheeks. A part of her wanted to back down, to agree with Michael that it would be best for Thomas to stay with her. But a different part of her remembered vividly the night that Matheson had left, remembered the look of anger on Matheson’s face and the words that came from his mouth, remembered the brawl he had had with Michael. If that anger ever turned on Thomas, if those words were ever turned on her son, if that physical violence was ever done to her baby, Kathleen would be beside herself. And the only way to ensure that none of that ever happened would be if Thomas left. So she continued to explain her reasoning to Michael, trying to convince him that her idea had to be what they do.
“Matheson will find us, you know that.”
“I’ll stay here, then, and throw him off your tracks.”
Kathleen shook her head. “I can’t ask that of you. I know that there’s talk of you being promoted. If that happens, you have to live in the castle and be on hand, not here, a day’s journey away. If I leave, you’ll be tethered here, unable to be promoted. I can’t let you do that.”
“You’re not even sure that Matheson will find you. Why can’t you stay with the boy?”
“Michael, I’m a single mother, with no money, no skills save for baking, and a three-year-old to take care of. I can’t provide for Thomas.”
The man was silent as he pondered Kathleen’s words. “Fine,” he said, after several seconds of thinking. “Who and where are you thinking of?”
“An orphanage in Malin Kingdom. It’s in Ridgecrest Fief, a fief that’s near the border between Tascela and Malin.”
“An orphanage.” Michael sighed. “Kathy, are you sure that’s the best place? Orphanages tend to be…”
“Bad, I know,” Kathleen finished. The orphanages in Tascela received little to no funding from the Royal Court, running solely on donations from others. In Malin, however, the Crown made sure that all orphanages were well taken care of, a substantial amount of money going towards ensuring that all orphans had the same opportunities as kids with parents. Sometimes, they had even more opportunities available to them. “But they’re different in Malin. That’s why I want Thomas there.”
“Tensions are high between Malin and Aspaya right now. There are rumors that war is inevitable. Are you sure you want Thomas raised in that environment?”
Kathleen took a deep breath. “Malin is a massive kingdom, Michael. Ridgecrest is in the north and a week’s journey to the capital fief. From there, it’s another two weeks to the Aspayan border. Any fighting that takes place will be between the capital and the border, far away from Thomas.”
Michael sighed and closed his eyes, seemingly thinking through Kathleen’s plan. After a few moments, he reopened his eyes. “Ok. I’ll take him there.”
Kathleen sighed in relief. For a few seconds, she thought Michael wasn’t going to agree; she would’ve gone through with her plan anyways, but it would be infinitely easier if the man was on her side. “Thank you,” she said.
Michael simply nodded. “Where is the boy?”
“Asleep. I have everything packed, but I didn’t know when you would be back. We can wait for the morning. I know the sn--”
“No,” Michael interrupted. “If we’re doing this, we should do it now before…” His voice trailed off but Kathleen was able to finish the sentence in her mind.
Before we change our minds. She didn’t say anything, though, simply nodding back at the man. She hurried upstairs to the floor where she and her family lived. Her parents were fast asleep in their own bedroom, so she tried to be quiet as she slipped into the second bedroom, where she and Thomas slept.
She froze when she saw her son sleeping peacefully. Suddenly, doubts about her plan flew into her head. Was she doing the right thing? Was it better for Thomas to grow up in another kingdom, with someone other than his own mother? Was it really safer this way? Thomas shifted in his sleep, rolling over so that his face was facing Kathleen’s. Her breath caught in her throat as she looked at her son’s youthful face. His curly blonde hair was messed up, sticking up every which way. With his eyes closed in peaceful sleep, he looked exactly like what he was: a young child, filled with the innocence and the naivety his age demanded.
“I’ll be back, for revenge and for my son.”
With that reminder of what her plan was protecting her baby from, Kathleen moved forward, crouching so that she was next to him. She brought a hand up and pushed her son’s hair back, trying to tame his bed hair. Thomas shifted again, mumbling something in his sleep. Kathleen smiled softly, moving her hand away from his hair and beginning to rub his back instead.
“Sweetie,” she whispered. “It’s time to wake up.”
Thomas’ blue eyes slowly opened. “Mama?” he asked, his voice filled with sleepy confusion.
“Yes, sweetie,” Kathleen answered. “It’s Mama. You have to get up.” She stood up, moving to grab clothes for Thomas.
Thomas sat up from his bed, watching her movements carefully. “What are you doing?”
With the clothes in her hand, Kathleen turned back around. She walked back over to her son, helping him change his shirt. “Helping you get dressed.”
“Why?” Kathleen paused. If she told him, there would be no going back. While she knew that what she was doing was the best thing for Thomas, it was breaking her heart. “Mama?” Thomas tilted his head to the side, no doubt picking up on her hesitation.
With his prompting, Kathleen unfroze, moving more quickly. “You’re going on a trip.”
Suddenly, Thomas’ confusion and sleepiness vanished, replaced instead by excitement and awe. “Really?” he exclaimed. “Where? When? How lo--”
“Shh!” Kathleen said, putting a finger on her lips. She spared a glance towards the hallway, praying her parents didn’t hear them. She didn’t tell them what she was planning, but she knew they wouldn’t like it. Thomas was their only grandchild; losing him would hurt them just as much as it was hurting Kathleen. “We have to be quiet. We can’t wake Grandma and Grandpa up.” She looked back at Thomas, nearly laughing at the seriousness in his expression.
“Are we sneaking away?” he asked, trying to whisper like she was, but failing spectacularly.
Kathleen smiled at her son’s antics. She felt her love for him consume her as she watched his seriousness grow. “Yes, we have to sneak away.” Thomas stayed silent, clearly trying to contain his excitement and questions so he could follow Kathleen’s instructions.
Once he was dressed, Kathleen bundled him up in his winter coat, pulling a hat that her mother had made for him over his ears. His silence continued as she picked him up and grabbed the small bag filled with his other clothes and a couple of toys. She quietly crept back downstairs, making her way back to Michael.
He had moved towards the dying fire, trying to warm himself up before getting back on the road.
“Uncle Mikey!” Thomas exclaimed, squirming in Kathleen’s grip.
Michael turned around, a grin lighting his face up when he saw the boy. He hurried over to them, taking Thomas from Kathleen. She handed the bag to Michael, her throat closing with the tears that threatened to overtake her. But she couldn’t let them fall, not when Thomas was right in front of her. She had to stay strong, in order to ensure that he left with Michael, leaving her behind. Noticing that his hat had started to fall off in his haste to get to Michael, Kathleen fixed Thomas’ hat.
“Be careful, sweetie,” she said, her eyes staring intently into Thomas’ face. She drank in his features, ingraining them into her memory forever.
Thomas’ confusion returned quickly. “You’re coming, too, right, Mama?”
Kathleen shook her head. “No, sweetie. Uncle Mikey’s coming with you.” She blinked the tears out of her eyes, willing them to not fall.
But one still fell and Thomas didn’t miss it. “Don’t cry, Mama. I’ll see you soon.”
The tears suddenly became harder to push away, but Kathleen was determined to not break down in front of her. “No, sweetie. You’re going to live somewhere else now.” She tried her best to sound happy, to not let her sadness slip into her voice, to make Thomas excited about the move. But thanks to her breaking heart, her voice still shook and carried her sadness with it.
Thomas gave her a small frown, which was somehow even more heartbreaking than if he started crying. “Then when am I going to see you?”
“I don’t know.”
“You’re leaving me? Like Daddy?”
Kathleen felt a sharp pain in her chest, making it almost impossible to breathe, let alone respond to that gut-wrenching question. Michael spoke up, saving Kathleen from having to respond.
“Mama’s always going to be with you,” he said, pushing the bag up on his shoulder so he had a free hand. He used it to tap Thomas’ chest, right where his heart was. “In here.”
“In here?” Thomas asked, placing a hand over his heart. He looked back at his mother, who placed her own hand overtop of his.
“Yes, sweetie,” she said, “in here.” Suddenly, she remembered something. She reached into her pocket, taking out a silver medallion. On it was a bird in flight--the family crest of the Hayes’ family. She handed it to Thomas, who took it and traced a finger over the engraved bird.
“What is it?” he asked after a few seconds, looking back up at Kathleen.
“It’s a snow goose, sweetie. As long as you have it, I will be with you. I love you, Thomas.”
“I love you, too, Mama.” Thomas wrapped his arms around her neck. Kathleen returned the hug, closing her eyes to savor the last moment she would have with her son. Too soon, the boy pulled away, fingers clenched tight around the medallion. She cupped her hand on his face and smiled at her son. He smiled back and Kathleen let his face go, turning her attention to Michael.
“Thank you,” she said sincerely. “Please, be careful.”
He nodded. “We will. I’ll try to be back here as soon as I can. Take care of yourself, Kathy.”
She nodded back, her throat too tight to say anything else. She finally managed to choke out a single word. “Bye.”
Michael waved, nudging Thomas to do the same. “Bye, Mama!” the little boy said, waving his hand to her. She waved back, her heart breaking with what was happening.
Michael turned around, beginning to make his way out of the family bakery. He opened the door, yet again exposing the room to the snowstorm outside. He turned to face her one last time. “I’ll be back in two weeks.”
She nodded back, still not able to say anything else. Michael shut the door and, with its closing, something broke inside of Kathleen--something that she felt would never, ever be fixed. She had just sent her only son away from her, planning on never seeing him again. The tears that she had managed to hold back thus far exploded out from her, tears streaming down her face as sobs racked her body. She fell to the ground, crying harder and harder with each passing second. The storm continued to rage outside, seemingly in tune to Kathleen’s emotions. The snow came down harder and harder, the wind picking up and tossing the precipitation everywhere. It seemed that this winter was going to be the toughest that Kathleen had ever experienced.