our neighbor, after all, and we presume a fellow former English subject?”
Warner gave Cage a dubious look but stood aside and lowered his own weapon. Together, the two men tugged the gate open and bowed low, entreating that Fallon enter. “Welcome, mistress,” Cage said. “Welcome to our humble party.”
Fallon bowed her head and passed through the open portal. They failed to see the slight upturn of one corner of her mouth as her skirts swished the ground between them. Once inside, the gate swung shut behind her. She looked up and gasped.
Cottages, light, and even the faint sound of music…it was civilization indeed, or at least as close an approximation as could be found on the island. Laughter spilled out of a makeshift public house. Torches glowed, and upon every available spot, there grew small, cordoned-off gardens filled with the start of green sprouts and vines.
A huge, ancient apple tree sprung forth in the quadrangle of several large buildings. Its fruit was still yet unripe, but Fallon gazed at it.
At her left stood Cage. “Ye shall be wanting a place to pass the night,” he told her. “I must rouse the governor, if he is not already about.”
Her eyes grew wide. “Oh, dear, I don’t want to trouble him.”
“’Tis but a moment’s inconvenience, mistress. Do not fret.”
Before she could protest again, Cage was already scurrying off, slipping inside the largest of the buildings near the apple tree.
Fallon leaned against the wall’s interior, taking an overly casual posture as she stared after the guard.
“Jesus, this is a helluva lot weirder than I thought,” she muttered. “Trippy. As. Fuck.” She shook her head, smirking.
~
The council members’ voices fell to a hush. The strange woman stared at White as if he were a veritable angel, winged and haloed and lit about the edges in gold and silver. She was an odd thing, shorthaired and wearing finery gone to tatters. In the colonies, however, White wasn’t ill used to seeing the effects of weather-borne destruction. Still, he was unaccustomed to celebratory treatment, as if he possessed any shred of fame beyond his own people.
“Governor, it is in an honor.” The woman bowed low, sweeping a hand beneath her bosom in a most bizarre manner.
The governor felt this gesture seemed improper, especially performed by a woman of her age. He frowned.
“Do get up, mistress,” he implored. “I am neither king nor countryman.” He raised one ginger eyebrow at her. “You are from the Scottish settlements?”
The woman looked confused and somewhat chagrined. “I, um, is…yes?” She coughed and looked down at the hem of her dress.
White stepped forward and narrowed his eyes. “Are you sick in the head, madam? Do you know the year, Goodwife Fallon? Who is the Queen? And what is your Christian name?”
Cage gaped at the governor. “Sir, this lady is in clear distress,” he protested. “Is it kind or fair to imply she is of unsound mind?”
“We have faced dangers before,” the governor said. “I will not be contradicted.” He looked back at Fallon. “Now, if you would be so charitable as to indulge an old man’s suspicious nature…”
The woman laughed and touched her forehead. She paced and stared out each window of the meeting room. “It’s so beautiful here,” she said. “So unspoiled…”
“Madam.” White banged a fist on the table. “It is the dead of night. Please. Just give me your name. Your origin. And tell me, how on earth did you come to be here?”
“Sinéad,” Fallon replied. “And…” She sighed, her shoulders sagging. “Ah, hell, I don’t remember what I told you guys.” She laughed again, this time her face splitting into a mad grin, and then bolted for the door.
White stared after the retreating figure. “Guards!” he called. He gestured at her, and the two younger men were soon in pursuit. “That woman is a spy.”
~
Fallon ran on and on until she reached almost all the way to the
Warner gave Cage a dubious look but stood aside and lowered his own weapon. Together, the two men tugged the gate open and bowed low, entreating that Fallon enter. “Welcome, mistress,” Cage said. “Welcome to our humble party.”
Fallon bowed her head and passed through the open portal. They failed to see the slight upturn of one corner of her mouth as her skirts swished the ground between them. Once inside, the gate swung shut behind her. She looked up and gasped.
Cottages, light, and even the faint sound of music…it was civilization indeed, or at least as close an approximation as could be found on the island. Laughter spilled out of a makeshift public house. Torches glowed, and upon every available spot, there grew small, cordoned-off gardens filled with the start of green sprouts and vines.
A huge, ancient apple tree sprung forth in the quadrangle of several large buildings. Its fruit was still yet unripe, but Fallon gazed at it.
At her left stood Cage. “Ye shall be wanting a place to pass the night,” he told her. “I must rouse the governor, if he is not already about.”
Her eyes grew wide. “Oh, dear, I don’t want to trouble him.”
“’Tis but a moment’s inconvenience, mistress. Do not fret.”
Before she could protest again, Cage was already scurrying off, slipping inside the largest of the buildings near the apple tree.
Fallon leaned against the wall’s interior, taking an overly casual posture as she stared after the guard.
“Jesus, this is a helluva lot weirder than I thought,” she muttered. “Trippy. As. Fuck.” She shook her head, smirking.
~
The council members’ voices fell to a hush. The strange woman stared at White as if he were a veritable angel, winged and haloed and lit about the edges in gold and silver. She was an odd thing, shorthaired and wearing finery gone to tatters. In the colonies, however, White wasn’t ill used to seeing the effects of weather-borne destruction. Still, he was unaccustomed to celebratory treatment, as if he possessed any shred of fame beyond his own people.
“Governor, it is in an honor.” The woman bowed low, sweeping a hand beneath her bosom in a most bizarre manner.
The governor felt this gesture seemed improper, especially performed by a woman of her age. He frowned.
“Do get up, mistress,” he implored. “I am neither king nor countryman.” He raised one ginger eyebrow at her. “You are from the Scottish settlements?”
The woman looked confused and somewhat chagrined. “I, um, is…yes?” She coughed and looked down at the hem of her dress.
White stepped forward and narrowed his eyes. “Are you sick in the head, madam? Do you know the year, Goodwife Fallon? Who is the Queen? And what is your Christian name?”
Cage gaped at the governor. “Sir, this lady is in clear distress,” he protested. “Is it kind or fair to imply she is of unsound mind?”
“We have faced dangers before,” the governor said. “I will not be contradicted.” He looked back at Fallon. “Now, if you would be so charitable as to indulge an old man’s suspicious nature…”
The woman laughed and touched her forehead. She paced and stared out each window of the meeting room. “It’s so beautiful here,” she said. “So unspoiled…”
“Madam.” White banged a fist on the table. “It is the dead of night. Please. Just give me your name. Your origin. And tell me, how on earth did you come to be here?”
“Sinéad,” Fallon replied. “And…” She sighed, her shoulders sagging. “Ah, hell, I don’t remember what I told you guys.” She laughed again, this time her face splitting into a mad grin, and then bolted for the door.
White stared after the retreating figure. “Guards!” he called. He gestured at her, and the two younger men were soon in pursuit. “That woman is a spy.”
~
Fallon ran on and on until she reached almost all the way to the
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