"Sara! Sara St. Claire! Maid!" Lord Henry himself burst through the door, startling the two already frightened maids who were still kneeling on the floor, washclothes in hand. "Oh, thank heavens!" He bent over in both relief and exhaustion. "Now," he panted, "which one of you fine ladies are Miss..." He paused to search for the name again on the parchment; if only he had remembered to bring his reading spectacles.

"I am, sir. Miss Sara St.Claire." one of the maids offered when he began squinting.

"Oh! Yes? Just the girl I've been looking for! Now, go pack your things and meet me in the stables when you're done." He looked considerably relieved but started immediately for the doors at the opposite end of the dining hall with unprecedented determination for such an affable man.

Sara stared quizically at her companion Alicia; through her, actually, and beyond but the girl never grasped how to achieve such a stare and so simply gazed back at Sara. Finally deciding that there was no longer any use to stay kneeling in that uncomfortable position, that none of the thoughts circling haphazardly through her head were achieving anything as she sat there, she quietly rose to her feet, dropped her wash-cloth gently into the water bucket and murmured a quick farewell to Alicia. At least she knew she didn't have much to pack.

Five minutes later she was standing by the stable door, her raggedy bag slung over one shoulder. She began twiddling the end of her long, mussed braid when she heard the muffled argument pounding through the stable wall. "...but why?...someone else... there's no way I'm- hush!" Creak! The door was thrust open to reveal the stablehand, Adrien, standing on the seat of the unhitched wagon, red in the face and glaring at her as Lord Henry, who had opened the door, tried desperately to smile despite his agitation. 

"Sara! So, you're through packing? So quick..." He quickly scanned her bag with masked dismay. "Ah. Yes. Adrien, here, will be more than willing to escort you to your new situation." He glared at the sulking Adrien when he thought Sara couldn't see him.  

"If you'll pardon my asking, sir, but why am I leaving? Have I been found unsatisfactory in some way?" Her mind raced instantly to last week's incident. She had been awakend from sleepwalking and screamed so loud that she woke up everyone in the entire house (and some of the cemetary's tenants as well, according to some). She had apologized profusely, but didn't know if this was enough. The housekeeper had taken a disliking to her since; well the mistress had never liked her. The housekeeper didn't like anyone; usually not even her husband.

What other reason could there possibly be? 

Though she was distraught, she noted the confused expression on Lord Henry's face. "You haven't done anything wrong, my dear. Whyever do you ask?"

"Why are you sending me from Marsh Hall?"

"Oh! External forces, my dear, external forces. Nothing to be done about it, I'm afraid." He rubbed the back of his neck as though it suddenly ached with the weight of great responsibility and stared at the ground. "Nothing at all..."  

Sara looked at him with a mixture of confusion, disbelief and restrained pity. Still, she felt the pressing need to be moving, to be going anywhere so long as she was moving. When she adressed him again to ask "So, you're not even going to tell me where I'm going?" it was with a half-hearted grin. 

She really didn't mind his answer that he didn't want to ruin the surprise, but sighed nonetheless. Adrien had been fast at work throughout their discourse and was now finally ready to take her bag from her and lead her silently to the back end of the wagon. Lord Henry trailed behind as a lost cow meanders after the nearest passerby, confusing them with its herd. He stood by as Adrien lifted Sara's slight and capable frame onto the makeshift seat of a straw-filled burlap sack. Adrien handed her back her bag after a moment, allowing her to get settled first, and made his way to mount the front of the wagon. 

"Good-bye, dear. Have a nice trip."
 
Sara swallowed her urge to say something sarcastic but could not keep her eyes level with his. She calmed quickly, however and as the wagon jerked to life she studied the man's aged face, the few wrinkles he had earned twisted to the picture of remorse.

Though his eyes searched for some sign of fear in hers, or some sign of hope or confusion or loss, he found none as she rolled away; only the blank stare that was her badge of hopeless faith.  

The wagon wound out of the stables, through the courtyard, between the gates and finally twisting to the east over the gloomy hills. The grass was still that particular shade of late winter gray though the last frost of the year was a week ago. None of the wildflowers that usually sprinkled the landscape were in bloom yet. The sky, white blue, cloudless but with the mirage and hope of clouds as the sun beat down. 

The fury of the sun reminded her of  Adrien; silent and anything but balming. He was still angry, she supposed, as he sat with his rigid back to her and hers to him. She glanced his way every now and then, turning to study the back of his head as she tried to decide whether or not she wished to ask himwhere they were going. Adrien had a famous temper.

It was rumored that the only reason why Lord Henry put up with his temper was because Adrien scared him. The man might be old, but he was tough. Wiry muscles shivered beneath his skin with every movement. His white hair billowed as he walked just like some albino flame, forever consuming his skull, and none dared defy his steely green eyes; the old superstition of green eyes bearing magic having nothing to do with this. 

Some of the older wives working in the house were apt to tell of Henry's fatherless childhood, though, and tales of  how Adrien had been more of a father to 'that wild boy' than anyone else. Sara knew that they were more likely to know than the other young hands at the house, and drew courage from this. 

"Adrien?"

"What is it, girl?" he asked, his voice a gentle sigh as he turned in his seat to look back at her. 

She turned to see him, too, to see the hard lines of his face softened. "Where am I going?"

"The master has asked me not to tell you that. Asked, mind."

Adrien turned back in his seat and left Sara staring at his bony shoulder blades where they poked through his thin shirt. She soon turned, though, when it was certain that he wasn't going to say anymore on the subject, and made herself more comfortable. It didn't really matter where she was going, afterall. Where she went, she went. Curiosity was the only thing which had driven her to ask. She consoled herself with the thought that she'd find out soon enough when they arrived.

The afternoon sun made her restless, especially as it beat on her eyelids, and boredom finally got her out of the wagon and walking beside the horses over long intervals. Adrien had balked when she first slipped off the wagon but she convinced him that her way was best. He must have been tired of arguing for the day, or so Sara supposed. All the time she spent preparing herself for the expected argument had been wasted; Adrien had given in with little defiance.

They went along peacefully for a long time in complete silence. When Sara's feet finally called for a rest she climbed in the driver's seat alongside Adrien who scooted over without a word, halting the horses until she was seated before silently continuing their journey. 

Sara was largely absorbed by her own thoughts durring this time, as was Adrien; their thoughts, however were going in two different directions.

Sara thought of the place where she had lived before she had moved to work in the Hause duf Maersh, Lord Henry's home. The orphanage had been east of Hause duf Maersh so she supposed they must be travelling toward it. Her memories from there were never pleasant, but she supposed that no orphan's chilhood ever truly was. 

The caretakers were concerned with every child's physical and spiritual health, but little else. They worried about social health as well, she supposed, but only when it seemed to interfere with one of the first two. Oh, she was done thinking of them. They had consumed too many years of her life already. The children and the sisters. 

Liddy had truly rescued her. 

She was the cook at Hause duf Maersh when Sara first arrived there. She had gently charmed the quiet young maid with her kind heart and persistant smile. No one knew how she did it, or what she saw it that scraggly girl who neither smiled nor frowned. Liddy took Sara in when no one else recognized her as a human being with the uncomprehensible love of a mother. 

Sara traveled back to their final goodbye, hugging tearfully in the kitchen. She had only known Liddy for three years, but they had been the best three years of her life and now she was to be ripped out of her life forever. They stood like that for several minutes; Liddy's thick, muscular arms protecting her from the outside world just as they always had and never would again. Liddy's apron smelled like bread and her spicy skin fused together; there could have been no better aroma to Sara. Sir Rodney stood in the kitchen doorway impatiently, tapping his foot when he finally decided that he'd waited long enough for his new cook to say her goodbyes. 

The tears that had been rising to Sara's eyes with the memory instantly vanished, replaced by her hatred for that man. Sir Rodney; narrow eyes, crooked teeth and the most shrivelled heart in all the world- he had come to the Hause duf Maersh a guest of Lord Henry's one evening to dinner. Upon tasting the fine meal he asked Lord Henry to pay his compliments to the chef. 

Henry, fool that he was at times, decided to introduce him to Liddy. Sir Rodney would have expected some man of fine taste and the irony would have been too much for him to have refrained from doing so. Sara didn't blame Henry; he didn't know that Rodney would whisk her away, claiming to have fallen in love with her. 

He was a good man. He even tried to keep Liddy at Hause duf Maersh but Sir Rodney outranked him. The night he went to ask Sir Rodney to withdraw his claim upon Liddy he came back heartbroken. Sara had waited up for him, waiting for news and waiting to help him relax. She knew the situation was hopeless. He seemed surprised at first to see her awake, but quickly asked her to retrieve some liquor from the corner cabinent. She poured him a glass and sat with him in silence for a long time. 

"You were close, weren't you?" 

Sara didn't speak, couldn't. Tears surged to her eyes again and Lord Henry took another sip of his brandy, accepting her silence. He didn't speak again that night. When Sara woke up several hours later she learned that she had fallen asleep on his couch and that he not only carried her back to bed but asked that she be excused from her duties for the day. 

He was a good man, which made her squirm all the more to think of how he said goodbye. Where am I going?

The sun sank below the horizon before she mustered the courage to ask Adrien. They had broken camp for the night a few hours before, had gathered plenty of dead grass and twigs and leaves for the fire. They were huddled around the fire, covering their backs with blankets from the wagon to keep out the chill of the steady North wind which refused to blow away. Their shoulders and sides were pressed together and Sara could see his brooding face staring into the flickering firelight. 

"Adrien?"

Adrien sighed but the brooding expression vanished and he asked "What, child?"

"Are you going to tell me or not?"

He turned his head to meet her gaze; his amber eyes calculating, measuring her up, down, sideways and inside out, evaluating her soul as if it were on display to the world. A few dozen frogs appeared in her stomach and started to dance there, quickening her pulse to the beat of their wild dance music. One went overboard and jumped up through her throat. She tried to swallow it back down so that it could join its friends but she found that she couldn't. Then he looked away, back toward the fire and they vanished.

"Fort Mirranaeda."