Land of Gold and Silver

Land of Gold and Silver

Lily toyed with the tiny bracelet hanging from a silver chain around her neck, running her thumb over the rubies set around it. It had been been in her family for many generations, maybe even from before the Concordance, if Nanny was to be believed. How many fingers had worried at it like this, Lily thought.

Taylor grabbed her fingers and brought them to his lips, kissing them gently as the bracelets around her wrist chimed with the movement. “Lil, it is a good apprenticeship.”

“I know,” she said. “But it is so far away. Have you talked to the Baroness about it?”

He shook his head, his golden curls dancing in the sunlight. “She has been called to the City for business, but she has no cause to deny it. Not if I make a pledge to return after.”

“Why can’t you work with Edwina here?”

Taylor sighed, smoothing her hair then laying a rough hand on her cheek. She leaned into it and pressed her hand on top of his, worrying at the knot on one of the braids of gray thread that were tied to his wrist. For all her questions, she knew why he wanted to go. The braids answered all her questions.

“Ed had too many apprentices. She was the one who wrote to Master Tasmin to make the introductions.”

Lily sighed. She knew that going to Bemilton was a great opportunity for Tay. He would go from a common laborer to a craftsman, and if the Baroness gave him leave, he could go anywhere in the Land and be welcomed. Still, Bemilton was a two day journey, if she could find a wagon going there. And there were too many dangers for one person to make the trip alone on foot.

“I want you to come with me.”

Lily caught her breath and her heart echoed loudly in her chest. “Tay...I…” The world was spinning.

“I wrote to Master Tasmin and he found a weaver there who needs an apprentice. If you could get Andre to pass your contract to her, you could join me.”

“Master Andre would never…”

Taylor laughed. “Lil, he would do anything for you. He would cry and rail against the fickle gods but in the end, you know he is a hopeless romantic.” Taylor paused and knelt down in front of Lily, “Show him this.” He held up a length of braided thread, a plait of grey wool with one bright red string woven carefully through it so that the red looked like jewels set evenly down the center. “He would never say no to a story such as ours.”

Lily felt tears prick at the corner of her eyes. “Really?”

“I spoke to your parents and they grant it should you will it. I want to be yours, Lily Weaver, if you would have a dirty farmer’s son who longs to be an even dirtier smith.”

It felt like a dream when she held out her arm to let him tie it to her wrist among the shining silver bracelets. “I didn’t think...I don’t have…”

He stood and pressed a finger to her lips. “Your hand in mine is promise enough.”

Lily shook her head. “No, Taylor, it is not enough.” She reached back to unclasped the chain around her neck. The rubies burned in the sunlight as it hung between them. He bent his head, allowing her to fasten the chain around his neck. “I want nothing more than to weave your life and mine together. Pray hold this symbol of my name day as a promise of a proper betrothal gift.”

He pressed his hand to his chest, covering both her tiny bracelet and the small yarn loop hanging from a piece of twine that was his own name day gift. “I will care for it as I care for you until it is redeemed.”

The tears came in earnest now and Lily flung herself into Taylor’s arms. He pulled her off the ground and spun her, laughter and tears mixing in a joyful song of love and happiness. Suddenly all the obstacles before them fell away as the promise of a life with her beloved filled every corner of her heart.