Pronounced chor-buh
Constan¸ta
A trading port on the Black Sea coast.
Pronounced Kahn- stahn-tsah
m˘am˘alig˘a
A porridge or cake made with cornmeal
(polenta), and often cooked with sheep
cheese. A staple of the Romanian diet.
Pronounced muh-muh- lee-guh
Piscul Dracului
Devil’s Peak. Pronounced Pis-kul
Drah-koo-looy
poman˘a
A feast for the dead, at which their
worldly goods are given away.
Attended by friends; relatives;
important folk from the village, such as
the judge, priest, and teacher; and poor
people. A spiritual value is attached to
the distribution of the departed one’s
possessions. Can be held at several
significant times after the death: e.g.,
seven days, seven months, one year, or
405
seven years afterward. Pronounced
poh- mah-nuh
Sibiu
A merchant town in central
Transylvania. Pronounced See- bee yoo
¸Tara Româneasc˘a
A region south of Transylvania, also
known as Wallachia. Pronounced Tsah-
rah Roh-muh- neeyes-kuh
T˘aul Ielelor
Lake of the Iele. Iele are female spirits who lure folk to their doom.
Pronounced Tah- ool Yeh-leh-lor
¸tuic˘a
Plum brandy. Pronounced tswee-kuh
Vârful cu Negur˘a
Storm Heights. Pronounced Vur-fool
koo Neh-goo-ruh
voivode
The head of a Transylvanian territory;
princeling. Pronounced voh-yeah- vode
406
Pronunciation Guide
to Character Names
Anastasia
Ah-nah- stah-see-yah
Anatolie
Ah-nah- toh-lyeeah
Bogdana
Bohg- dah-nah
Cezar
Cheh-zahr
Costi, Costin
Kohs-tee, Kohs- teen
Dr˘agu¸ta
Druh- goo-tsah
Florica
Flo- ree-kah
Gogu
Goh-goo
Grigori
Gree- goh-ree
Ileana
Eel-leh- ah-nah
Iulia
Yoo-lee-ah
Jena, Jenica
Jeh-nah, Jeh- nee- kah (J pronounced like g in mirage)
Marin
Mah- reen
Nicolae
Nee-koh- lie-eh ( lie rhymes with sky)
Paula
Pow-lah
Petru
Peh-troo
R˘azvan
Rahz- vahn
Salem bin Afazi
Sah-lem bin Ah- fah-zee
Sandu
Sahn-doo
Stela
Stel-ah
Tadeusz
Tah- deh-oosh (deh-oosh almost
one syllable)
Tati, Tatiana
Tah-tee, Tah-tee- ah-nah
Teodor
Teh-oh- dor
407
Turn the page for a special preview of the
upcoming companion novel to Wildwood Dancing: CYBELE’S
SECRET
Excerpt copyright © 2008 by Juliet Marillier.
Published by Alfred A. Knopf.
Chapter One
The deck tilted to port, and I tilted with it, grabbing at a rope to keep my balance. One day out from Constanţa, the wind had turned contrary and the waters of the Black Sea rose and fell under the Stea de Mare’s belly like a testy horse trying to unseat its rider.
“You have excellent sea legs, Paula,” my father commented. He stood perfectly balanced, a veteran of more merchant voyages than he could count. This was my first.
The sail crackled in the wind. The crewmen, grim-jawed and narrow-eyed, were struggling to keep the one-master under control. When they glanced my way, their expressions were hostile.
“It unsettles them to have a woman on board,” my father said. “Ignore it. It’s superstitious nonsense. They know me, and you’re my daughter. If the captain doesn’t like it, he shouldn’t have accepted my silver.”
“It doesn’t bother me, Father,” I said through gritted teeth. Having good sea legs didn’t mean I relished the bobbing motion of the boat or the constant drenching in salt spray. Nor did I much care for the sense that if the Stea de Mare sank, these sailors would put the blame on me. “Is this going to delay us, Father?”
“It may, but Salem bin Afazi will wait for us in Istanbul.
He understands what this means for me, Paula—the opportunity of a lifetime.”
“I know, Father.” There was a treasure waiting for us in the great city of the Turks, the kind of piece merchants dream of laying their hands on just once in their lives. Father wouldn’t be the only prospective buyer. Fortunately, he was a skillful negotiator, patient and subtle.
When he had first agreed to take me with him, it had been to allow me to broaden my horizons now that I was in my eighteenth year, to let me see the world beyond the isolated valley where we lived and the merchant towns of Transylvania that we sometimes visited.
But things had changed on the journey. Just before we were due to embark, Father’s secretary, Gabriel, had tripped coming down a flight of steps in the Black Sea port of Constanţa. The resultant broken ankle was now being tended to in the physician’s house there while the Stea de Mare bore Father and me on to Istanbul. It was most fortunate that I spoke perfect Greek and several other languages and that I had Father’s full trust. While I could not take Gabriel’s place as his official assistant, I could, at the very least, be his second set of ears. It would be a challenge. I could hardly wait.
The wind had brought rain, the same drenching spring rain that fell on our mountains back home, flooding streams and soaking fields. It scoured the planks of the deck and wrapped the ship in a curtain of white. From where I stood, I could barely see the sail, let alone the bow cutting its way through choppy seas. The crew must be steering our course blind.
Father was shouting something above the rising voice of the wind, perhaps suggesting we should go below until things calmed down. I pretended not to hear. The tiny cabins we had been allocated were stuffy and claustrophobic. Being enclosed there only emphasized the ship’s movement, and one could not lie on the narrow bunk without dwelling on how exactly one would get out should the Stea de Mare decide to sink.
“Get down, Paula!” Father yelled. A moment later a huge, dark form loomed up behind us. A scream died in my throat before I could release it. Another ship—a tall three-master, so close I screwed my eyes shut, waiting for the sickening crunch of a collision. It towered above us. The moment it hit us, we would begin to go down.
Running steps, shouts, the clank of metal. I opened my eyes to see our crew diving across the deck, snatching implements to fend off the approaching wall of timber. Everyone was yelling. The helmsman and his assistant heaved on the wheel. I clutched on to Father, and the two of us ducked down behind the flimsy protection of a cargo crate, but I couldn’t bear not knowing what was happening. I peered over the crate, my heart racing. Aboard the three-master, a motley collection of sailors was busy hauling on ropes and scrambling up rigging while an equally mixed group had assembled by the rail, long poles extended across and down-ward in our direction. There were about two arm’s lengths in it.