Home of Ashes

Title: Home of Ashes
Author: cope
Summary: Two feuding Kingdoms have pulled Rosemary into their fiery depths after the enemy kills her family and her older brothers are fighting for their home country. Rosemary is forced into slavery and eventually is turned into a spy who will have to penetrate her homeland and bring back information. This is her chance to escape and she’s going to take it, no matter what gets in her way.
Rating: NC17
Disclaimer: This is my original story and I will send a nasty chain letter to anyone who copies it and claims it as their own without my written permission in my own blood. Other than that, I hope that you all enjoy this and I would love feedback, both good or bad.



Chapter One



I can still remember the night that they came into our village and crushed any form of life that I had ever known. I remember that I had been sleeping in the loft of the barn, surrounded by the new kittens from my favorite mother cat. I can still feel them playing with my long raven-colored hair, batting it in between their tiny paws and I can hear their purrs of content and the small mews that they let out whenever I shifted my position in the sweet-smelling hay. The day before we had just stacked the freshly cut alfalfa in the loft after waiting a week for it to dry in the hot summer sun. My eyes were closed, the long, dark eyelashes that I had inherited from my mother resting on my rosy cheeks.

That night I had wanted to be alone with my thoughts and the cottage with Mama, Papa and all the little ones was just too loud to do that. Marie always talking in her dreams and would sometimes wake me up with her low murmurs and Papa and the boys all snored, Papa the loudest of the lot of them. That night I needed the quiet of the barn in order to think through what had happened just that afternoon. I had been with Mama at the market in the next village over, doing out market shopping while Papa was with my older brother’s Arthur, Thomas and Bryant as they enlisted into the King’s army of Talos. There was a war brewing and they wanted to help in any way that they could in order to keep us safe in our beds from army men in the opposing kingdom’s army.

It was in the market square that I had run into my childhood friend Bartholomew, who I had not seem since he enlisted the year before. He was older than my brother’s by a year and was helping with the new comers to the army. I was weighing cornmeal for Mama to pay for after she was done buying a new hen to lay eggs, when he approached me. We began to talk about the year before, and soon out conversation had drifted to the relationship that we had had. He reminisced about how he had given me my first kiss ever before he left and how he told me under the old apple tree that he would always carry me in his heart. We walked around the market, him following me as I did my errands for my parents and then he brought up the subject of my father.

“I was speaking with Arthur and your father while your other brothers were enlisting. The subject was you, Rosemary.” He said, gently capturing by arm in his large, calloused hand and leading me to the fountain in the center of town. “Your father was telling me how lovely a woman you had become in the year that I had been gone, but I could have never imagined that you would be this beautiful when I was finally able to set my eyes onto you again. Your father also mentioned that you had no one asking for your hand in marriage.” I blushed at what he was saying and I was able to guess what he was hinting towards. He continued though before I was able to say anything to him. “That made me realize how much a fool I was to have not asked your father for your hand in marriage before I left to serve our king and our home. That’s why I requested for his permission this very morning, and now I am asking you. I do love you Rosemary and I meant what I said to you last summer. You will always be in my heart and I would be a king in my own right if you were to be my wife and the mother of my children.”

And that was that. I was unable to say anything in return, the expected question had thrown me off my feet so much that I was glad the fountain rim was underneath me for my body to rest on. If it had not been there, I was sure that I would have collapsed right in the middle of the market. Bartholomew had then left me after my silence, giving me a small kiss on the right cheek before disappearing into the crowd. I was unable to speak for the rest of the night, barely able to make answering sounds from deep in my throat when Papa or Mama asked me questions. They understood, and they left me alone to sort out my thoughts. They also knew that I ultimately had no choice in the matter. I had turned seventeen the night of the last full moon and most girls my age had already married and had already had children. And I knew that if I waited any longer, I would either have to marry an extremely older man or someone the age of my younger brother Samuel who still thought that girls were diseased. But I also didn’t want to marry someone just because I should. I wanted to marry for love.

Bartholomew was going to be coming back to his childhood home to visit his mother, his father had dies several months ago from an internal illness that my mother was not able to cure with the herbs from her garden nor the potions that her grandmother had taught her when she was only a small girl and that she had taught me over the years. There had been a community burial, which Bartholomew was unable to attend because he was training with all of the other men in the army. Everyone had cried to see him lowered into the ground but the person who was supposed to be there was never even found out until months later. Tomorrow would be the first time that he would be able to see where his father was buried and pay his respects to him. It was tomorrow that I was supposed to give him my answer.

It was this dilemma that I was deliberating over when I heard the sounds of hoof beats coming towards the cottage. It was that sound that drove me to unwillingly open my eyes. It was late and I knew that no one in his or her right mind would be traveling after dark when there was a war starting all over the kingdom. I patiently disentangled a lovely white kitten who had fallen fast asleep in my hair from me in order to poke my head out the window and see who was making so much noise.

As I climbed over the mounds of hay to the closest window, I wondered who it would be. My brothers were safely stowed in their bunks waiting for their military training to start and everyone else in my family was long asleep in their beds in the cottage. It wasn’t until I heard shouts from unfamiliar men that I really hurried to peer out and see who it was. Millions of reasons for why men would be at my home and why they would be shouting, the first being that they might want my mother to deliver a baby or concoct one of her many healing potions that would save someone’s life. That seemed the most logical to me, but when I watched the men enter my home, waving their torches and breaking down the door in the process, I knew that option went out the window, just like my body almost did when I heard my little sister Marie’s cries silenced and the screams of my Mama start.

Suddenly there was no noise except the erratic breathing coming from my heaving chest. The screams and cried of my Mama and siblings were all quieted and my Papa was thrown roughly out the front door of the cottage, his body falling in a heap amongst the dirt and chicken feathers that decorated the front of our home. My mouth turned dry as I witnessed my Papa being beaten by men who were cloaked in the darkness. The light from the flame of their torches were casting eerie shadows across everything, making my living nightmare seem more hellish than ever.

I lost all track of time while I was lying on my stomach, willing myself not to cry out so that I may go for help and warn the other people of our village that the enemy was here on our very doorstep. My eyes were blurred with the tears that I was trying not to let fall but I was still able to see the masked men drag the body of my Papa back into our home and all but one torch was thrown in after him. The whole cottage was engulfed in flames, the men watching and laughing at the sight of my whole life turning into ash and smoke.

A small meow from the white kitten drew me into reality and allowed me to see what I had to do. I needed to get out before the fire spread to the barn. I needed to get all the animals out that I could, especially the horses. My Papa loved his horses and I knew that he would want them to be safe even if our family was not. I stealthily crept down the ladder into the madness that was happening below. All the animals could smell the smoke from the fire and they were all scared. I made my way along the wall to the door facing away from the cottage and threw it open. Every horse, cow, pig, goose and chicken ran as if the devil himself was on their heals.

I could smell the smoke as the hay started to burn above me and I prayed to the gods above that the cats were smart enough to leave when they had the chance. I was about to run for the woods that were close to my home where I could hide until the morning light was able to guide me when I heard something moving behind me. I peered into the barn that was quickly filling with smoke and I could make out the form of one horse. It was my father’s prize stallion and he was tied with a piece of rope in the far corner of the burning building. I wasn’t about to leave him there when I was so close.

Pulling my woolen blouse up over my mouth and nose, I ran back into the barn, choking on the smoke as I did so. I finally reached the horse and wiled my nervous fingers to untie the knot that held him strong. I was almost through when I heard the crack of the support beams above my head giving away to the inferno that was ready to swirl around my body. With one last tug, I had the panicked stallion free and I let him run as fast as he could out into the fresh air that awaited us both. I quickly ran after his fleeing body, reaching the doorway just as the ceiling came crashing down. A whisper of a smile graced my face as I started to run, the relief that I had gotten out bringing a moment of happiness to my mind, briefly overlapping the sorrow that ran through my entire body.

Stopping for a moment a fair distance away from both burning buildings to catch my breath, I turned around and looked at the damage done. The fire was now one giant blaze engulfing everything in its path. I closed my eyes and the dam of tears that I had been holding back finally escaped their holds. I had to force my feet to turn around and start to run away but before I took my first step towards safety, a pair of hot hands clamped down over my mouth and I was hit once in the head, rendering me unconscious. The last thing I saw before I fell into the waiting darkness was a pair of army-issued boots and singed grass beneath my own dirty bare feet.

- - - - - - -

“Wake up you lazy pile of donkey shit. You’re needed in the kitchens right away to make the King his elixir for today. If you’re not there in five minutes it’ll be your head on the chopping block, not mine!” Came a loud voice from outside the servant’s quarters, stirring me out of my memories. It was the voice of my superior, Glenna, who was half my size and half my age. She had been working in the castle kitchens since she was three where I had been working under her command for only seven months.

I grunted out a reply and quickly pulled my lovely mud-brown dress over my head so I could start another day of hell. I scrubbed at my face with the cold water that was waiting in the water basin by one of the beds and stuffed my feet into the shoes that were provided for me that also happened to be two sizes too small. I shoved open the half door that led to the hallway to the kitchen and prepared my tired body for another day of dealing with every whine and complaint from the King and his family. I was still tying my apron strings into a bow when I skidded to a stop in front of the head cook Maurice.

“About time you showed up to work you lazy Talosan whore. His Majesty wanted his potion an hour after the cock crowed this morning. Get to work before I tan your hide and send you to whoever wants their bed warmed for the day. That’s where you deserve to be in the first place. You are just lucky that you have some saving talent.” Maurice welcomed me in his usual way, insulting not only me, but my country as well.

I didn’t say anything to him, I never did. Ever since I saw my childhood home burned to the ground with my family in it I had never said a word. No, that’s not true. I hadn’t said anything since Bartholomew proposed to me. If asked a direct question, which I rarely ever was, I would nod yes or no and be on my way. I never spoke to the other girls that slept in the servant’s chambers with me and I bit my lip whenever I was insulted. I just waited for the day to come when I could go home and find my brothers and try to continue on with my life.

Maurice gave me a small hit in the shoulder with the ladle from the stew he was preparing for dinner and forced me into the pantry to gather the herbs I would need to cure the king of his ailments. When my concoction was done it would be carried up in a golden goblet and tasted first by the king’s taster to make sure I didn’t poison him. I never did though; I could never bring myself to dump in little bits of rat poison into his drinks. I was never able to physically make my body do what I wanted to do in my mind more than anything else in the world. I also knew that I would be killed in return, most likely by a public be-heading, if I ever dilled him of his taster.

I hated my life more than I hated the devil, more than I hated the men who murdered my family as I watched helplessly. I had to get out one way or another, I just didn’t know how to go about it yet.