Romany - Chapter 1

In the frozen expanse of the far Northlands, a girl was born amidst a swirl of biting winter winds. The Northern Lights danced in the icy skies as her mother cried out in pain while the tribal midwife and medicine woman performed their sacred duties hidden from the men; not that the men really wanted to know what these sacred duties were anyway!
The baby was fit and healthy and her parents gave thanks to their deity from the Fire Beyond The Sky for her safe arrival. They believed that the dancing aurora when she was born was a portent; their daughter was blessed! She was a miracle from the goddess who would be destined to bring peace to the Northlands and end the suffering of her people. After much debate, they decided on a name which they borrowed from the distant Southern lands; it translated as ‘traveller’ in their native tongue and seemed fitting as they believed she had been sent from such a distance. They named the baby Romany.
As the years passed, Romany grew into a very average young girl in most respects, although she was noticeably clumsy and slightly shorter than the other children in the tribe, who called her ‘Fumblerina’ however the nickname was more affectionate than cruel.
Romany had a quick wit and seemed to hold wisdom beyond her years. The tribe quickly noticed her unique intellect early in her life, especially when she began to mix with the other children. Although she lacked the physical prowess which was valued by the tribe, she possessed a certain indefinable something. She was an attractive girl, but it was clear that she would never be hailed as a striking beauty, yet her bright smile and her infectious laugh cast a spell on those around her, endearing her to all who encountered her radiance, and she met a lot of people. Most of the communities were nomadic; groups of several extended families who worked together to herd the cattle around the grassy plains.
The Jarlfyell Mountains loomed on the Northern horizon, marking the border of the Northlands and what lies beyond. They were considered impassable, not because of their height or the thick snow that covered their peaks, but because of the creatures that inhabited them. Beasts that would think nothing of feasting on any unfortunate human that came their way. At the foot of the mountains, where the Silvstrad River met the Eastern Ocean, was the city of Havnvik. This was one of the few permanent settlements in the Northlands and the seat of King Torveld and what could loosely be called a government. It was the responsibility of the monarch to protect the tribes, and in return, they would pretend to care about the laws and edicts that came from their capital.
It was a cold night in early spring when an eight year old Romany came to the attention of the Northern rulers. Her tribe were camped outside of Havnvik when a rival group of herders arrived. Almost instantly a conflict arose as, in the city tavern, alcohol fuelled tensions flared over preferred grazing routes and Romany, despite her young age, intervened in the heated discussion.
"Why must you argue like this?" Romany asked, her voice loud and clear above the drunken shouts of her father and the rival herd leader. "You are very silly men!”
“Hold your tongue, girl!” shouted her father. “Or you will feel my belt on your arse!”
There was a lot of raucous laughter from the men in the tavern, though Romany’s mother the women from her tribe did not seem amused. Nor did one well-dressed man sat at the back of the room. He stood and faced Romany’s father, his height towering over most of the men in the bar, and pushed aside his furs to reveal a broadsword strapped to his side. This was one of the king’s warriors. Silence quickly descended on the tavern.
“Let the girl speak,” he said and then turning to Romany added: “No-one will hurt you, I promise.”
“I just don't understand why you can’t divide the grazing time? Our herd will follow the coastal path, while their herd can take the western route. Then, when we meet up at the southern border post we can swap paths and return. This way, both pastures are used, and the cattle will get fresher grazing without exhausting one path."
At first, the herdsmen scoffed and exchanged sceptical glances, unwilling to even consider proposal, especially as it as coming from a young girl, but the warrior banged his hand on a table and demanded silence.
“Can you tell me one reason why this would not work?” he asked.
“It is not how things are done!” said Romany’s father.
“That does not answer my question! What is the problem?” There were several complaints, but the warrior persisted, demanding an actual reason beyond mere precedent. Reluctantly, the herdsmen agreed to Romany’s plan and as the days passed, they witnessed the benefits of her idea as the cattle quickly began to show signs of improved health.
Word of Romany’s wisdom quickly spread and before long the warrior tracked down her tribe, requesting her presence in court. King Torveld believed she would make a suitable companion for his daughter, Klara. However, Romany's father was a seasoned herdsman and very set in his ways. He did not believe Romany should get ideas above her station in life. As a compromise, he said that she could spend the winters in Havnvik, studying with Klara and the summer with the tribe, where her father would share his knowledge on the intricacies of cattle rearing, offering her a pragmatic understanding of life and birth. Her mother taught the arts of homemaking, including cookery and needlework, although ‘Fumblerina’ was not very good at these more practical skills.
On a crisp afternoon in late October, Romany returned to Havnvik, dirty and under nourished after several months travelling with the herds. Klara, failing to hide her disgust, immediately took her into the royal apartment and had the servants clean her. Once she was brought back to Klara, the transformation was unbelievable. Romany had long, blond hair, and a soft, gentle face. Her body was slender and lean from physical exertion, walking with the cattle and lack of decent food. Klara grimaced as the servants returned Romany’s tattered grey cloth dress, but they both knew that Romany could not accept something from Klara’s wardrobe.
“Can you imagine my father’s reaction if I gave one of my dresses to you?” asked Klara, handing over a shiny, blue gown.
“Can you imagine my father’s reaction if I accepted?” laughed Romany. “He would say that this material is not suitable for herding cattle!” She rubbed the smooth cloth between her fingers and thumb. “I have never felt anything so soft! What is it?”
“Satin,” replied Klara with total indifference. The contrast between her disinterested attitude and Romany’s fascination with the material perfectly highlighted their different lives. It was an unlikely union between the princess and a girl of humble origins, but from their initial encounters, a unique bond and understanding began to grow between them..
“I will send for a seamstress to make you several sets of new clothes, some suitable for winter in the city and others for summer on the plains,” said Klara. “Meanwhile, the servants may have something suitable… actually, that gives me an idea!”
Klara motioned for Romany to follow her as she led the way to the kitchens at the back of the castle. As they strolled through the bustling corridors, the aromas of elaborate dishes filled the air. Klara, determined to treat her friend to the indulgences of the court, approached the kitchen staff with a resolute air.
"Give Romany anything she desires," the princess instructed them. "Ensure she gets whatever she wants from our kitchens."
The kitchen staff, accustomed to obeying royal commands without question, took Klara's directive seriously, extending their hospitality to Romany.
As the winter progressed, Romany and Klara’s friendship grew. The princess was headstrong and inquisitive and she instantly recognised something exceptional in Romany. Although the princess was a couple of years older, she was happy to accept the younger girl's company, often amazed by the depth of insight and perception that she possessed. Romany quickly blossomed and with Klara's guidance, she discovered the world beyond the confines of tradition and tribal lore. Klara was inspired by Romany's hunger for knowledge and taught her to read and write; skills seldom seen among the tribal herders.
They spent the daytime studying and exploring the grounds around the royal castle and the streets within the city. They were only separated when Klara, as future queen, was given training in the use of weapons and war craft and each night when she participated in her royal court duties. These were the times when Romany went into the kitchens for her meals and the staff, following Klara’s commands offered Romany the finest leftovers from the royal tables. She relished the rich and delectable offering, savouring the flavours and textures that she had never before experienced and which contrasted so starkly with the meagre meals of her tribe. No matter how much she ate, there always seemed to be more available, however, this was a diet for the ruling class and the warriors, and Romany was not participating in their rigorous physical training routines, so the rich, sumptuous meals quickly had subtle effects on her physique. While she was not particularly overweight, a constant diet filled with such indulgent foods quickly gave her a plumper figure, especially noticeable when compared to the slender, lean appearance typical among the common people in the city.
As the years passed, Romany continued to spend the winters in Havnvik. She developed a very close friendship with Klara. built upon a strong base of shared laughter, whispered secrets, and a thirst for discovery. As they grew older, they became more adventurous and less easily controlled by the tutors and governesses who organised their daily lives.
It was the end of winter, not long after Romany’s thirteenth birthday and just as the leaves were beginning to reappear on the trees, when they decided to slip away from their chambers in the early morning and embark on a journey of exploration. They quickly left before the servants realised they were missing and crossed the River Silvstradt to where the expanse of the forest beckoned, shrouded in an enigmatic aura of danger. Their youthful exuberance propelled them deeper into the woods, where, it was said, the ancient trees whispered secrets to those who dared to listen. The winding trails led past babbling brooks and through glades full of snowdrops and bluebells, and though Romany was unaware of it, Klara was keeping a close eye on their surroundings, watching for goblin raiders from the mountains.
The spring atmosphere teemed with the vibrancy of life as they explored an untamed wilderness overflowing with the unknown. They entered a clearing and immediately, Romany’s eyes were drawn to a ring of mushrooms in the centre of the grass. Without thinking, she put out a hand to stop Klara walking further forward and crossing into the circle.
“We can’t go any further!” whispered Romany. “This is a Faerie Ring. It can take you away!”
“What do you mean?” Klara laughed. “That is just a tribal superstition! The danger here is from the mountain creatures, but it seems they are not coming down this far yet. Let’s hope it stays that way!”
“Mountain creatures?”
“Yeah, you know. Goblins and trolls and if we are really unlucky, orcs,” replied Klara biting her lip and looking around nervously. “We should not have come this far into the forest really.”
“But I thought there had not been any trouble for years?”
“Not officially,” whispered Klara. “But I will be the warrior queen one day, and as heir to the throne, my father has to share certain information with me so I am prepared. You are right, there has not been a full attack for a long time, but there are still skirmishes with raiding parties and there are stories from some of the tribes about missing cattle and occasionally, children.”
Romany shuddered at the thought. She knew from the stories that these creatures were carnivores and particularly valued human meat. Subconsciously, she rubbed her rounded stomach; suddenly aware of every meal she had eaten and the weight she had gained.
“Don’t worry,” Klara reassured her. “There have been no reports of activity in this area as we are still pretty close to the city. The majority of problems are usually a lot further west, towards the Wild Lands.” Romany could tell that Klara was not being entirely honest, but actually, she did not want to hear the truth and suggested returning to Havnvik.
The princess nodded and began to move across the clearing, but Romany grabbed her arm, pulling her back.
“You cannot enter the Faerie Ring!” she said firmly.
“It is just a circle of mushrooms!” replied Klara. “There is nothing to worry about.”
“There is!” insisted Romany. “We see these sometimes and stone circles too. My father always insists we avoid them for fear of upsetting the Fey. If you enter, you are likely to be a victim of the Wyld Hunt!”
Klara sighed and looked around.
“I know about the Faeries,” she whispered. “But father is convinced that their power comes from the belief we have in them; they can only use glamour and if we refuse to acknowledge that, they cannot harm us.”
Romany did not look convinced. Klara smiled in a condescending sort of way, as though she pitied her friend’s backwards beliefs.
“Look; an orc would not think twice before skewering you and roasting you over a fire pit, but all the Fey can do is make themselves look pretty for you. Plus the North Lands are rich in iron. We have the strongest weapons and the best armour. The Fey would not dare come here!”
Klara realised that Romany was not listening; but was looking past her at something. Slowly Klara turned around and saw a faerie hunting party stepping out of the circle of mushrooms.
“I would not be too sure about that!” The Fey appeared beautiful and enigmatic as they regarded Romany and Klara with a mixture of curiosity and wariness. Their sharp features twisted into angry scowls, and the slow flapping of their iridescent wings produced a radiant glow. Their whole bodies exuded an aura of otherworldly majesty and the whole forest clearing seemed to glow with their brilliance.
Klara took a step back. She was trained to be ready for action at all times and quickly unsheathed her sword, taking a stance which gave her an air of defiance and showed her readiness for battle.
Romany however stepped in front of her and raised a hand in front.
“Put is away,” she muttered without taking her eyes from the beings in front of her. Klara hesitated as they found themselves encircled by the Fey, whose presence seemed to fill the atmosphere with an energy that was both enchanting and intimidating. Romany recalled the tribal stories, particularly those that warned of the Fey's reputation for trickery and deceptiveness.
“Forgive us,” she said respectfully. “We did not intend to disturb your hunt.”
The Fey eyed Klara warily, as she maintained her fighting stance and held her sword ready.
“My companion will put her sword away to prove we mean no harm,” said Romany. She turned to Klara and looked at her insistently. “Please?” she whispered.
Klara looked at Romany with doubt written all over her face, but she sheathed her sword and raised her hands, trusting the judgement of her friend.
The head huntsman flew forward and looked at Romany as she smiled sweetly. He examined her gentle face and soft features looking for any sign of dishonestly or deviousness.
"We understand the sanctity of your hunt, and we do not intend to disrupt it.” Romany explained, her voice serious but gentle. “We humbly beg your forgiveness for our intrusion and seek only safe passage through this forest.” Behind her, she heard Klara grunt slightly at the thought of begging, but she motioned with her hand for the princess to remain silent.
The head huntsman seemed to ignore Romany’s request as he ensured Klara had no concealed weapons.
“This one does not like to beg!” he said, his voice melodic and charming.
“She is a princess,” replied Romany with a gentle shrug. “So I am asking on her behalf.”
The Fey studied Romany carefully or some time. Klara stood behind, her arms folded, careful not to make any threatening moves until, finally, convinced of Romany's sincerity and Klara's restraint, the head huntsman accepted they were not a threat. The faeries exchanged silent glances among themselves and Romany breathed a sigh of relief as they reluctantly accepted she was telling the truth.
“Be gone from these woods swiftly," said the head huntsman, his voice carrying a weight of warning. "Do not cross our path again or you will be our prey."
With a gracious bow, Romany expressed her heartfelt gratitude, and ensuring Klara followed, she retreated, navigating the woods swiftly yet carefully, all too keenly aware of the Fey's watchful eyes on their departure.
They burst out of the forest by the banks of the Silvstrad, not far from the stone bridge which would lead them back to the city gates. The air seemed to buzz as the tension of their encounter melted into excitement now they could see the walls of Havnvik and safety. Their eyes gleamed with a mix of exhilaration and relief; their hearts pounded in unison and Romany even began trembling from the adrenaline coursing through her veins.
Klara, still catching her breath, turned to her friend with a mixture of awe and gratitude.
"Romany, I've never seen anyone handle a situation like that!" she exclaimed, admiration evident in her voice. "The way you managed to talk them around... it was incredible! You have this way that's just... unbelievable."
Romany’s cheeks flushed she smiled shyly.
"I just didn't want anyone to get hurt," she replied, modestly. "They're not so different from us, you know? It's just about finding common ground."
Klara shook her head, her eyes sparkling with a newfound respect.
“It is more than that,” she said quietly, a sense of realisation dawning upon her. "You're something special!" Her tone carried a note of melancholy as she continued: "and when we're older, we will have to follow our separate paths. But I promise that your diplomacy and skill with words will always be welcome at my court."
There was a brief pause as thoughts of the future settled upon them, casting a shadow and quickly subduing the excitement in the atmosphere. Klara's expression softened, and she spoke with a determined resolve.
"Remember Romany, no matter what happens, I'll always be here for you; I'll never let anyone hurt you."
Romany, moved by Klara's uncharacteristic display of affection, felt a surge of emotion. She reached out, embracing Klara in a warm hug and felt their bond transcend mere companionship and even friendship. This was now something stronger; a sisterhood forged through shared experiences and built upon unwavering support.
“I am not going anywhere, Klara,” she whispered.
They turned and continued their journey to the city, each step filled with more dread as it brought them closer to the real danger that they had not considered. Their governess’ anger at them sneaking out, and possibly worse, the King ‘commenting’ about it.
Sure enough, when they returned to the castle, they were both led to the plush royal chambers, where Torveld waited, thoroughly unimpressed. He immediately dismissed the servants, giving them a rare moment of privacy.
“Well?” He did not appear to be angry. In fact, both Klara and Romany found his total lack of emotion unnerving. They almost wished he would shout.
“Daddy…” began Klara, but Torveld raised his hand to silence her. He motioned to the soft red sofa by the window and his daughter and Romany sat, looking at their feet in embarrassment.
Torveld sat on the chair opposite and smiled.
“We all do it!” he said. “I stole one of the horses from my father’s stables and rode to the caves in Skogdal. I was hoping to bring a goblin’s head back to prove my skills as a warrior prince.” He laughed at the memory. “Your grandfather threatened to knock me into the next solstice!”
Klara looked at him in surprise.
“I thought you would be furious!” she muttered.
“Yes. Your governess wants you severely punished, but I think that is more because you made her look incompetent,” laughed the king. “But we have to keep her happy, so pretend I am punishing you!”
“Your majesty,” said Romany. “I did not mean to abuse your hospitality. I just wanted to know about the world. Please don’t stop me coming back to the castle next winter.”
“Of course not!” Torveld laughed again. “I was wondering when you would start to put ideas in my daughter’s head! Your tutors tell me you are very bright and question everything.”
Romany glowed with embarrassment at the praise, but she had the biggest smile on her face. Klara rolled her eyes, partially to cover the shame at being academically outshone by her friend, but mainly at her father’s comment.
“I can think for myself!” she complained.
“Yes, I know,” replied the king dismissively. “But the comments Romany makes in the kitchen at night are correct.” He looked at their shocked faces. “Servants are everywhere and hear everything, Klara. It is something you will need to remember. Even when you are queen, you will only be able to speak freely in these rooms!”
Romany looked at him nervously.
“What comments?” she asked quietly, knowing that she had discussed everything from the stable boy to the extravagance of the castle food which her family could only dream of.
“Your opinion that for Klara to be a good queen she will need an understanding the culture and lives of the tribes.”
Again Romany glowed with embarrassment as the princess slowly turned to look at her with an annoyed expression. Romany could almost feel the heat from the glare burning her ear as she refused to meet Klara’s gaze.
“Do not be angry,” said Torveld. “As I said, she is correct. You have shown today how much you love adventure, so this summer, you will join Romany and her family as they drive the herds around the plains. You will not go as their princess, but as their assistant.” He smiled, smugly, and Klara realised this was her punishment and it was much worse than she had expected.
Torveld stood and opened the door, showing Klara and Romany out into the corridor which would lead them to their rooms. They slowly walked out looking at the floor and not speaking.
“And don’t forget,” the king called after them with amusement, “when you go back to your governess, try to look suitably chastised!”