Chapter XII

Tourth

I strode after Wren. I was practically on her heels when she stepped out the door into the courtyard. I grabbed her shoulder. She was not going to walk away from this so easily. Not after a comment like that. She didn’t know what I had done, what I had witnessed, why I truly left for war. I had to set her straight.

“Tourth!” A familiar voice from hazy years past stopped me mid-motion, my hand resting on Wren’s slender shoulder. Suddenly I was encased in a bear hug. I released her as I was lifted from my feet with my assailant’s enthusiasm. “Where have you been hiding all of these years?” Hiller demanded as he pounded on my back.

Then before I could respond, he had stepped back to examine me at arm-length. “You look thin.” In the dim light of the torches, I could just make out the familiar planes and angles of Hiller Pendraco’s handsome face. “We last heard of you before the battle of Catorna in the south. When we didn’t hear of you afterwards, we gave up hope that you had survived that massacre. Philon even sent out a few scouts a year back to see if they could find you, but they returned with nothing. Where have you been keeping yourself?”

“Right here,” I rushed to say. Hiller had always been the talkative one of the Pendraco clan. If I didn’t speak up soon, he would continue his narrative without any assistance from me, especially if he was excited. From the sparkle in his eyes, I could see that he was just that. “I returned home and settled back here.”

Hiller frowned. “And you didn’t send word to us?”

“There was no need. We were safe and well enough.”

“This is hardly well enough,” Iscarus pointed out as he appeared at his brother’s side. The years had been kind to him also. His lean frame showed no signs of abuse or malady. “I saw Kat, Tourth. She has been without adequate food recently.”

“Last winter was rough,” I admitted. “This year will be better.”

“Aye, it will,” Hiller said. “We will see to that.”

“Wren told us of your troubles with Orac’s local Enforcer, and Philon sent us to straighten you out.”

“You don’t need to…”

“Nonsense,” Hiller thumped me on the back. “What are family friends for? If your father, may he rest in peace, hadn’t supported father in the Turantian conflict, we would have lost half of our holdings. We are just returning the favor.”

“My Lord.” A strange soldier approached us. Suddenly realizing that he was speaking to three nobles, the man immediately clarified. “My Lord Hiller, the horses are being moved out to the temporary corral. The men need to know where they are to set up camp.”

Hiller turned to me. “Where do you want us, Tourth?”

“If they bunk three to a room, they should be able to fit into the old barracks,” Dardon suggested, joining the conversation. “Wren has already offered her room. She says she will bunk in the old keep.”

“She shouldn’t need to do that,” Iscarus protested. “There has got to be a way that she can still keep her room and bunk us all.”

I watched the exchange wondering when I had lost control of the situation. Only hours before it had been Dardon, Svhen, and me, completely in control and certain of who we were and what we were doing. Now, looking at the chaos around me, I had no clue how many men were here. I was afraid to think of how we were going to feed them all during their stay. Didn’t Wren realize the consequences of her request for help?

As though answering my question, Wren joined us. She avoided my eyes, meeting Hiller’s instead. “The provisions are stored, the horses bedded down for the night, and your cook is rearranging the kitchen to suit his needs. Svhen says he has organized a watch rotation from the volunteers. If there is nothing else, I am going to head to bed. There is a lot to be done tomorrow.”

“Indeed there is,” Iscarus agreed. He grinned my way. “We have a strategy to plan.”

“You should be able to keep your current sleeping arrangements,” Hiller told her. “I will speak to my men. If I remember the barracks well enough, those rooms are plenty big enough for sleeping four men apiece.”

“No.” She shook her head. “I will not see four men squeezed into one of those rooms just so I can have one to myself. I will be more comfortable out in the open. I have missed sleeping outdoors.”

“And if it rains?” Hiller asked, looking doubtful.

She smiled. “I wouldn’t be much of a bounty hunter if a little rain hurt me. If you would excuse me gentlemen,” she said with a bow. “I need to sleep.”

Hiller and Iscarus bowed in return. I nodded although she didn’t bother looking my way. Dardon walked back toward the barracks saying he needed to make sure no one stole any of his gear, and the soldier followed him.

“Where did you find her?” Iscarus asked. The awe in his voice did strange things to my stomach. If I didn’t know better I would have identified the feeling as jealousy. Even stranger since all I wished at that moment was to shake some sense into her head.

“She appeared one day a few weeks back, and asked for a roof over her head in exchange for her services.”

Hiller frowned at me. “Is there a man you need to find?”

“Not as a bounty hunter as a huntress.”

“A blessing for you, Tourth,” Iscarus muttered. “Well, I am off to find my bed. See you on the morrow.” He turned toward the barracks, but Hiller remained.

“What is wrong with you, Tourth?” he asked. “You have changed.”

I refused to look at him, turning to stare at the broken castle gate instead. “War changes men, Hiller. Some men grow into heroes, other monsters. I thought I was of the former and found I was the latter.”

Uncharacteristically silent, Hiller stood motionless beside me. “You are not alone in finding that Tourth.” Another span of quiet fell between us. A wolf howl far outside the walls only interrupted it for a moment. I hoped that Hiller would leave me, but he didn’t.

“What did she say to you?” he asked suddenly. “When you came out of the keep, there was anger in your eyes and it was directed at her.”

I took a deep breath. “Wren says I should speak of what I am hiding to someone.”

Hiller moved, shifting his weight. “She is right.” Then without a farewell, he lumbered off into the night, leaving me standing alone in the darkness.

My anger was gone. His words had drained it away. That didn’t mean I was ready to take Wren’s advice. She didn’t fully understand the depth of my sin and I had every intention of keeping it that way. I took a deep breath of cold night air and held it before releasing it again. Then I walked toward the barracks, ignoring the dull ache in the center of my chest.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wren

I woke the next morning and left the castle by way of the back door. Passing the sentry with only a nod, I headed toward the clearing that I had discovered Tourth pacing only days before. I needed to think and that was as good a place with the grounds and walls soon to be crawling with guests.

On the journey the day before, I had spoken in length to Iscarus and Hiller about the state of the defenses of Iselyn Castle. They had grabbed onto the idea of rebuilding the defenses. Apparently Hiller’s men had been doing just that at the outposts along the shared border between the two valleys. I fully expected to find a flurry of activity when I returned, and I felt I needed time alone with Deus before I confronted Tourth again.

The morning was cool, crisp, and sunny. The strange combination of bright warmth of the sun on my head and the slight bite in the air was invigorating. I raised my face toward the sun and breathed out praise to the Creator. High above me on the breeze, I spotted one of my falcons. It looked like Elsu, the black male, bringing a message from Ilara. I smiled. Even more to praise the Lord about.

I waited for Elsu to join me before stepping into the shadow of the trees. Following the path Tourth and I had covered on our way out from where I had discovered him. Without the sun kissing my head and shoulders, the air grew almost cold. I laced up the front of my leather jerkin while Elsu shifted uneasily on my shoulder, wings partially spread. Once I stopped adjusting my clothing, he stroked my ear in thanks and settled back onto his perch.

“Sorry, Elsu,” I whispered, not willing to break the quiet around me. I reached up to stroke his chest in return.

The branches were low. I held a few of the aside so that we could pass, mindful of the falcon’s head rising above my own. Within minutes, we stepped from the crush of foliage into the clearing. Deep green shadows broken by speckles of morning sunlight filtering through the canopy above our heads greeted us, inviting us to explore their hidden depths.

I circled the area, careful not to disturb the ground cover more than necessary. If Tourth returned to this place in the near future, I didn’t want it to be too evident that I had been here. Spotting a perfect perch halfway up one of the trees, I decided that would be where I would spend my morning devotional. I signaled Elsu to leave my shoulder. He did with a flurry of wings and a slight rebuke at being shooed away so soon.

After a quick climb, I settled on the branch. Pressing my back against the rough bark of the tree, I balanced there. Elsu settled two branches above me and began preening as I drew out my worn copy of the word of Deus. Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes and began to prepare my heart.

“Almighty God, thank You for Your grace. Its depth and width are unbounded. Without it, we would all be lost. Please, Father, open Tourth’s eyes to the overwhelming abundance of Your love and mercy. Show him that You can heal the deep pain within him. Meet him and show him Your face. You are not just a God who guides his children, chastising them when they need correction, but You are also a God of forgiveness, a gift that we need more than any other because we are a fallen race.

“Have I pushed him too hard?” Remembering his anger from the night before, I frowned. “Please guide me, Father. I am not infallible. I am sinner like all others. Put the words in my mouth that will penetrate his defenses and bring him to you. Use my actions to speak for you. I am your vessel. Please use me.”

I turned my thoughts to the preparations going on back at the castle, the work and the plans to reclaim Tourth’s title and authority. I prayed for success. I asked for wisdom, and I pleaded for the souls of the men and women of the valley. After spending time petitioning on behalf of each of my siblings, I asked for a blessing on my time in the word before closing my prayer.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tourth

I woke to voices out in the courtyard. Rolling from my bed, I grabbed my sword and was halfway to the door before I realized that the voices were raised in teasing banter, not alarm. I suddenly remembered the events of the night before and closed my eyes against the memory.

Returning to my bed, I sank back down on it, returning my sword to its sheath. Running my hands through my hair, I tried to turn my mind to my morning prayers, but the door burst open before I could focus. Dardon strode in and crossed to stand over me.

“Lord Hiller wants to know if they can cut down the grove north of the upper meadow to use for a new front gate.”

“There is wood enough stacked behind the smoke house,” I reminded him without really looking up. “What does Hiller care about the gate?”

“They already used that in the repairs to the gatehouse.” Dardon ignored my question and sat down next to me on the bed. “He also wants to know where he can get thatch to re-thatch the roof of the stable.”

“What?” I pushed myself to my feet, reaching for a clean tunic. “The stable roof is the least of our worries. If he is so eager to give his men work, they should work on the outer wall.”

“That is what he said you would say. They are already working on that. He was wondering where would be the best place to get more stone.”

I pulled my tunic over my head and grimaced at Dardon. “It seems he still knows me well.”

Dardon just grinned. “He and Lord Iscarus asked me to request that you join them at the front gate. They have some plans that they want to run by you before they commit to them.”

“I wonder why they are bothering to ask.” The words slipped out of my mouth before I could catch them. I looked over at Dardon to find him frowning at me. Shame quickly filled my chest. “That was wrong of me, Dardon. Pray don’t tell them what I said.”

Dardon nodded. “I can understand how you feel threatened, Tourth. Just remember that they are only here to help.”

I nodded. “Have you seen Wren yet this morning?” I asked as I reached for my sword and belt.

“She left past the rear sentry an hour or two ago. I suspect she will return when she is ready.”

“When she does, could you let me know. I wish to speak with her.” I buckled the leather straps of my belt and reached for my leather jerkin.

Dardon studied me for a minute as I laced the front. “Don’t go scaring her off, Tourth. We need her.”

“I doubt anything would frighten her off, Dardon, unless she wanted to go.”

He frowned at me as though disagreeing.

“Come. Show me where Hiller and Iscarus are waiting. The sooner we can get to work the better.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wren Romany - © 2009 Rachel Rossano

Chapter XI

Tourth

Svhen’s cooking lay heavy in my belly. With Arthus on the road to the capital, not to return for two weeks, Svhen had taken over the cooking. Although I had only been eating mashed turnips and ground lion, I was counting the hours to Wren’s return. Anything was better than a turnip boiled until it fell apart and then mashed beyond recognition. I had nothing against turnips, but I liked to be able to identify the vegetable on my plate before I tasted it. At least the lion meat had been well cooked and seasoned, though a bit burnt. Dardon had side tracked Svhen with knife target practice. Wren had taught them a trick and they were determined to master it before her return.

I shifted my position, glancing hopefully down at the road winding past our gate. The stone beneath me was cooling from the heat of the day, seeping away into the coming night. The eerie shade of the light right after sunset but before complete night always played tricks with my sight. With my gaze I traced the track to where it disappeared beneath a grove of trees.

Wren was due back today and I had been watching the road since first light. It hadn’t been an intentional action. It was strange actually. Whenever I paused to think or breathe, I found my eyes and thoughts wandering in her direction. I had to struggle to focus on my tasks.

“Any sight of her?” Dardon asked. He capered up the crumbling stairs and joined me on my perch on the wall directly over the gate.

I shook my head. “She could have been delayed.”

He nodded.

We sat in silence for a while. “If she doesn’t show, I am cooking tomorrow night.”

I shot him a glance before smiling slightly. “What would you make instead, practically raw carrots and red mutton?” Dardon’s usual fare was barely cooked.

“I can’t stand seeing food being tortured the way Svhen does it.”

“And not cooking it properly isn’t torture to your captive consumers?”

“Why don’t you take a turn?”

A movement in the trees near where the road emerged from the copse caught my eye. “I thought you wanted to live. Did you see that?”

“What?” Dardon leaned forward and squinted into the night.

Darkness had fallen completely now. There was hardly any starlight from the partially cloudy sky and the moon was hiding behind a particularly thick cloud. Something moved again. It was too far to hear anything, but something was definitely emerging from the trees and it was larger than a single woman on a horse.

“The Enforcer?” Dardon asked.

I peered. “No, they are moving too openly.”

“Should I warn Svhen?”

“Yes, but don’t do anything until you know who it is. Someone might be with Wren.”

“Who could it possibly be traveling with Wren unless…” The thought must have occurred to him at the same time it blossomed in my own mind. “She wouldn’t betray us,” he protested.

“Unless she had no choice.”

“No.” Dardon’s voice was hard with conviction. “No, Tourth, she would never betray us even if it meant her life.”

I wanted to believe the same, but I couldn’t. I ignored the gut feeling that concurred with Dardon, and reached for my sword hilt. “Go warn Svhen.”

Dardon disappeared into the night creeping silently down the stairs in the direction of the kitchen. I stalked off in the other direction. I wasn’t about to let someone enter our gates unchallenged. I took the longer route, stopping at the stable to gather my bow and quiver from the stable wall, before reaching the ruined gate. One of the doors was propped closed, blocking half the entrance. The other, however, was long gone, sacrificed to kindling last winter because it had been beyond repair. I swore to myself that I would start building the replacement tomorrow if we survived that long.

I took up position in the gap, spreading my feet solidly into an archer’s stance. Whipping an arrow from the quiver, I slipped it into place as the sounds of horses approached. Svhen, sword in one hand and torch in the other arrived at my side a moment later. Voices came out of the darkness, but I couldn’t hear what they were saying above the roar of the burning torch beside me.

Almighty, Father, protect us. My brief petition was all I could manage before the first horse came into the light.

“Who goes there?” Dardon demanded from somewhere above us. He must have taken a position on the wall above the gate.

“Hiller and Iscarus Pendraco request lodging for the night.”

“Who?” Dardon demanded.

A cold fury rose in my chest. That meddling woman. I half wanted to demand she present herself so that I could strangle her.

“Where is Wren Romany?” I demanded, lowering my bow and letting the string fall slack.

“Pardon?” The soldier, armed in full gear, looked down at me in confusion.

“Where is Mistress Romany? I know she is with your party and I demand that you tell me where she is.”

“Tourth?” Svhen’s questioning voice came from behind me, but I ignored it.

“Fine.” I glared up at the new arrival. “See that you tell her that I want to speak to her in the keep.”

The soldier looked a bit taken aback at the force of my demand, but he saluted me. I turned on my heel, threw my bow at Svhen and stalked past him into the courtyard.

“Are we to allow them shelter?” Svhen asked.

“What is going on down there?” Dardon’s voice demanded from a distance. “Oh, I wouldn’t recommend you take another step until I know what Tourth wants us to do with you.” He was clearly speaking to the soldier I had just left. I didn’t care. She had done just what I had told her I didn’t want done. I had expressly informed her I was not asking for Lord Eyrant’s help and she had ignored my order. I was going to…

Svhen’s large hand on my upper arm brought me up short. “I get that you are angry, but what are we to do with those men?” he asked.

“Let them in,” I growled. “And see that Wren finds me immediately.” I shook myself free of his grasp, strode across the courtyard, and entered the ruined keep, slamming the door behind me. As soon as it had latched, I swung around and smashed my fist into the side of the nearest crate. It fell over and something broke in its wake with a satisfying tinkle of glass. My fist throbbed, but I wasn’t finished. Kicking the next closest thing, I rolled up carpet, I swore at the empty space. Why couldn’t people just follow my instructions and stop meddling. I shoved another crate over on its side and perched on it to wait for Wren.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wren

“He wants to see you immediately.” Svhen looked worried, an expression stronger than any I had seen cross his face before. “He is really angry at you.”

I nodded. “I expected as much.” I slipped the tack from Brone’s back and placed it in its place. I walked around where Svhen was leaning on the stall door to fetch the brush.

“You knew he would be angry?”

I nodded. “I did something that he explicitly told me he wasn’t going to do himself.” The rhythmic act of working the brush over Brone’s coat was soothing. I had missed this in the two days I had spent in Sedlyn Castle. Brone seemed to agree.

“Why did you do it then?”

“Someone had to.” I glanced at Svhen before turning my attention to Brone’s hooves. “If I let him, he would fall on his sword and take you all with him.”

“He wouldn’t deliberately harm us.”

I pinned him with a look over Brone’s glossy back. “What about himself?” I came around to the gate and looked up at him. “I know he fiercely protects Arthus, Dardon, and you, but does Tourth make an effort to protect himself?”

Svhen’s light colored eyes held my gaze for a few moments before he looked away.

“He wasn’t always like this,” I observed, “obsessive in his pursuit of helping others without consideration for himself.”

Svhen shook his head. “That isn’t a completely bad thing.”

“No it isn’t.” I turned and stroked Brone’s silky nose. He lipped my hand and snuffed my wrist before nosing my shoulder affectionately. I rubbed the side of his neck and then turned back to Svhen. “I am not concerned about the actions as much as I am concerned about the underlying mentality.”

He nodded. “Guilt.” We held each other’s gaze for a moment before he stepped back, holding the stall door open for me. “He is in the keep.”

“Thank you.” I moved past him, pausing after he closed the stall behind me. “If I haven’t come out in an hour, come and fetch me.” If I hadn’t gotten Tourth calmed down by then we would both need a breather. I usually could calm anyone down by then, but Tourth was an unknown.

“Will do,” Svhen replied and then preceded me out into the noisy courtyard.

The Pendraco brothers and their cohort of forty men were working out the details of their accommodations with Dardon. At my suggestion, they had brought their full gear straight from their camp on the eastern border of the Sedlyn lands. A heavy wagon, now parked in the center of the courtyard, laden with four month’s supply of provisions for forty-five men came also. Thankfully Dardon had taken over the organizing of them and their gear because Tourth was going to be keeping me busy for a while.

I crossed the courtyard, dodging horses and weaving through provisions to reach the door to the keep. The heavy oak, though beaten and weathered was still stout enough to require a good shove to get it open. Without hesitating I stepped over the sill and into the darkened space beyond.

I let the door fall closed behind me while my eyes adjusted to the dimmer light and quiet. One lantern sat high on a stack of crates, covering the area in grotesque shadows. As the heavy door eased into its place and the latch slide home, my eyes fell on the ruined remains of a splintered crate only a few feet inside the room. The light caught at the ragged edges of the splintered wood, casting them in sharp relief.

“You are late.”

I didn’t look at him. By the sound of his voice I placed his location to the left of the door, but I didn’t turn to face him. Instead, I picked up a fallen book, lying open among the dirt and splinters.

“Arthus isn’t going to appreciate the destruction of his property.”

“You had no right.” His low tone burned at my ears as it rippled over me, seething with fury. I had hoped that a bit of time to himself would have cooled his temper. Apparently it hadn’t. It had only simmered down to lava. “I allow you to dwell under my roof, trust you with my confidence, and you return the generosity by disobeying my orders.”

“Orders?” I kept my eyes on the book as I straightened to my full height, stroking the leather of the binding.

“Yes, orders. I clearly told you my intentions and you cannot claim that you did not understand them.”

“Yet, they were not orders,” I pointed out. “You simply outlined your plans and reasons. I have plans and reasons of my own.”

“To undermine my authority?” He moved closer, keeping to the shadows and moving between me and the door.

I had to clamp down on the instinct that I had honed over the years. With a deliberate step I moved away from the door, giving him room to block my exit. The move made me nervous, but it was necessary. I had to make it clear that I trusted him.

“No. I seek only to protect you and the others.”

“I don’t need your protection. We did well enough on our own before you came.”

I frowned as I set the book on top of nearby crate. “You and I both know that isn’t true,” I replied softly. “You were starving. You told me as much yourself.”

“We would have found a way.” The confidence was forced, shaky and crumbling. He stepped closer. “I don’t know how but we would have found a way. We did not need to ask for help.”

I turned to face him at last. “Why is the thought of asking for help so unwelcome, Tourth? It isn’t as though you had no friends to ask.”

He turned away before I managed more than a brief impression of his features. “I don’t want to discuss it.”

I took a deep breath. “You must.”

“Why?” He turned and stalked up to me. Fire burned in his eyes as he towered over me.

If he thought that would intimidate me, he was very wrong. My brother Aiden had always been the master at intimidation but he had never been able to make me flinch. The key was to see beyond the fire and posture and look at the heart. Aiden hurt in ways I could not help. Tourth, however, knew the healer and cure but he could not see the way. For some reason he blinded his own eyes, wallowed in his pain, and punished himself up for something that he needed to let go of. “It will eat at you until you do.”

“I do not need a confessor, Wren. I am beyond that.” Anger lingered in his voice, but it was no longer directed toward me. He turned and retreated into the shadows, away from the door.

“No one is beyond redemption, Tourth,” I replied. Then without waiting for his reply, I slipped out the door.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wren Romany - © 2009 Rachel Rossano

Chapter X

Wren

Sedlyn’s keep was impressive on its own; however, in contrast to the ruined keep of Iselyn it was clear that Iselyn had been the greater fortress in its glory. To enter, we passed under a great archway, twice the height of a grown man, supported by stone walls twice my width. The great hall, the center of all keep activity opened up before us. Heavy wooden beams, black with soot and age, crisscrossed above us while fresh rushes sweetened with herbs crunched beneath our feet. I scanned the empty tables shoved against the walls and tried to estimate the number of men and women that usual sat at them. I had counted seven tables that could easily seat twenty when loud male voices interrupted me and drew my attention to the dais where the high table still stood and three men and two women were gathered.

“I tell you that I saw eight points,” a well-dressed, slender man declared loudly.

“It was hardly four. You must be seeing double,” a gruff man built like a bear replied. His shaggy beard and worn clothing would have normally indicated a woodsman of serf status, but the casual manner in which he punched the slender man’s shoulder signaled something more.

“Just because you can claim the best prize, the twelve pointer, doesn’t mean that the rest of us were less impressive, Warwick. That eight pointed buck led me on a merry chase, and I feel quite accomplished in bringing in the meat.”

The burly man whom I assumed was Warwick Pendraco opened his mouth to speak, but was stalled by the wispy woman at his side. She pulled hard on his arm. “Leave him be. You have your prize. Let him enjoy his.”

The man sighed. “But if I let him, he will be saying he brought down a ten pointer by nightfall and challenging my dozen by morning. With each telling his buck’s rack grows.”

“It is his last excursion of the fall, Warwick. You will have plenty of opportunities this winter to prove your prowess.” The speaker rose to his feet, his face coming into view for the first time. His square face was partially covered with a thick brown beard, trimmed and well-kept. “We all know Hiller will not challenge you and I know of no other hunter in our midst that is your equal.”

“Ah, but there you are wrong, My lord,” our escort responded. “May I present Mistress Wren Romany of Braedoch, a huntress of men.”

I felt Kat stiffen beside me. She hadn’t known I was a bounty hunter. All eyes turned to look at us. I could hardly explain my past to her now.

“Eron, you have forgotten to introduce her companion.” The man I had tentatively identified as Lord Eryant stepped forward from between his brothers. “Lady Mynth, we are honored to have you visit us after so many years.” Taking Kat’s hand, he bowed deeply over it.

“Kat?” Warwick exclaimed, suddenly intent on examining Kat’s face. “Not the same girl who used to tag along behind us with skinned knees, frizzy pig tails, and black fingernails.” He looked her up and down. “I can’t believe it.”

Kat blushed to the roots of her hair. “Yes, that sounds about right.”

“You forgot to mention the bare feet,” the third man, the one bragging about bringing down an eight point buck, added. “I distinctly remember some very filthy bare feet.

“I have left those habits behind me,” Kat replied. “Though I dwell on those days as distant happy memories I shall cherish always.”

“We cherish them too,” the third man replied.

“Where is our manners?” Lord Eyrant exclaimed. “We have been sadly remiss. I believe introductions are needed all around. Mistress Romany, I am Philo Pendraco, Lord Eyrant and theses knaves are my brothers: Warwick,” he gestured to the rugged looking one in hunting clothes, “and Iscarus.” The slender, well-dressed man bowed slightly. “The woman attempting to keep Warwick from teasing Iscarus too much is his wife, Lorena. And, this vision,” he turned to extend a hand to the other woman, “is my wife, Annalyse.”

“It is a pleasure to finally meet you, Lady Mynth,” Annalyse added immediately. “All of my husband’s brothers and Philo have told me stories of their fostering years with your family. I have longed to meet you and your brother.”

“How is old Tourth these days?” Warwick asked. “Surely he has returned to Iselyn by now.”

Kat’s features lost the glow of joy as she turned to glance at me. I could see her hesitancy to speak. Despite the fact she was among old friends, they were friends of childhood. She did not know these grown men as she had known them as boys. I stepped in to her rescue.

“That is why we have come.”

Lord Eyrant immediately regarded me with a measuring look. He glanced toward Kat and then focused all of his attention on me.

I answered his scrutiny. “I do not know how aware you are of the events that have occurred in Iselyn, but Lord Mynth’s position is precarious at best at the moment. He and…” I stumbled over Kat’s title, and Lord Eryant raised a hand to stop me.

“Tourth and Kat are old friends of ours. If they have taken you into their confidence to the point that you are on a given name basis, then consider us the same. May we call you Wren?”

I nodded.

“Continue.”

“Tourth and Kat have been living in hiding along with some of Tourth’s sword-mates from his time spent fighting. They have been living thus since his return a bit over a year ago.” I looked to Kat for confirmation. She nodded without meeting my gaze. “During this time an enforcer has been ruling the valley.”

“A regular…” Warwick swore colorfully. His wife tugged on his arm with a reproachful look.

“Though I don’t agree with my brother’s choice of words,” Lord Eryant shot Warwick a look, “I completely concur with the sentiment. You will find no friends of that Enforcer here, Wren.”

“He poaches our game,” Warwick explained.

“His men frequently harass my patrols.” Iscarus frowned.

Annalyse put a hand through her husband’s arm. “They also come into the border villages and homesteads to assault our women.”

“As I said,” Lord Eryant concluded, “he is a terrible neighbor.”

“That is not actually what you said, Philo,” Iscarus interjected.

“This is hardly the time,” Warwick told Iscarus.

I saw that this could easily get off course so I interrupted. “Kat and I are requesting help for Tourth as he makes a claim on his title. It sounds as though helping him would be in your best interest.”

Lord Eyrant studied me for a moment. “Is this request from Tourth himself?”

Kat answered him before I could, pulling his attention to her. “He refuses to ask for help, but we desperately need it. The Enforcer has been demanding labor from the people Five days out of every seven they are required to work on constructing his castle on the opposite end of the valley from us.”

Lord Eyrant nodded. “I know of it.”

Kat continued to explain. “Because of these restrictions, many of the households in the valley are going to starve this winter. There have not been enough men or women to work the fields. The crops have not been harvested or were never planted. We have tried to help where we can, but there is too much need.”

“And you? How do you stand for supplies?”

Kat glanced my way. “We will be well. Wren has promised to assist in exchange for bed and board.”

“Then you should be in plenty of game,” Warwick commented.

“It is not just that,” Kat said, ignoring Warwick’s comment. “Now the Enforcer is instituting press gangs to pick up any male they encounter and put them to work. Tourth, Arthus, Dardon, and Svhen are all endanger of discovery. And should they be discovered, the Enforcer would have no reason to not murder them.”

“He has killed before?”

Kat nodded as my gut tightened. “He killed my parents. He was seen descending the stairs from their solar with a bloody knife.” Her hands were clenched so that the knuckles shown white against her skin. Suddenly she turned to me. “Please don’t tell Tourth, Wren. If he knew…” Her voice trailed off.

I had a feeling that I knew what would happen should Tourth find out. Beneath the calm exterior and the precisely logical decisions raged and anger that had not been confronted. Its existence was what kept all of his friends at bay. Despite their apparent willingness to confront Tourth over his plans, his fellow warriors were not willing to press to the point of breaching that fury. Yet someone must. If it remained as it was, buried deep beneath the surface, burning low and hot, it would consume him. I fully intended to chip away at that anger, but I wasn’t foolhardy enough to tell him this tragic news and confront it head on.

“I won’t tell him until he is ready to hear it,” I assured her.

“But…” She opened her mouth to try to explain further, but Iscarus interrupted her.

“I think we have reason enough to help them, don’t you Philo?”

Kat and I both looked to Lord Eryant, his sharp gaze flickered over all our faces, lingering for a moment on Kat’s tear stained countenance. “Aye, Iscarus, I do think we have reason.” He turned to his brothers. “Where are Hiller and the troops at the moment?”

“The eastern border,” Iscarus replied.

Annalyse stepped forward, collecting Kat’s hand from the folds of her skirt. “Come. Let us leave them to their planning. We should see to your accommodations and organize the supplies their will need.”

Lorena stepped to Kat’s other side as they walked away. “Please tell me more about Warwick as a boy. Unlike Philo, he is very reluctant to talk about those times.”

“If you tell her anything about you know what,” Warwick called after them, “I’ll…”

“Ignore him,” Lorena told Kat loud enough for her husband to here. “He is all bluster and no bite.”

Kat replied, but her voice was lost to the distance.

“Warwick, please focus on the task at hand,” Iscarus prodded. “It isn’t like anything Kat would say would change Lorena’s opinion of you.”

Lord Eyrant’s face brightened with amusement. “Ah, but you are forgetting about that time…”

“Okay, how many men do you think we should send?” Warwick asked loudly over riding his brother’s voice as he turned back to us. Lord Eyrant and Iscarus shared a smile when their brother wasn’t looking and the discussion began in earnest.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wren Romany - © 2009 Rachel Rossano

Chapter IX

Tourth

“We are leaving.” Wren’s voice interrupted my thoughts, drawing my attention away from my task of repairing the tack. She stood in the doorway, an unfamiliar outline against the early morning light outside the stable. Stooped shoulders, overwhelming wimple, and a voluminous dress of homespun green wool seemed to swallow up her slight form.

“So, you are traveling as old women?” I asked.

“Yes, and your sister wishes to say goodbye.”

I nodded and set down the harness in my hands. “We are going to miss you both.”

“I will be returning.”

“Still, we shall miss you. Arthus has volunteered for kitchen duty, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he poisons us all.”

She smiled. It moved across her face in the twitch of her lips and was gone. “I am certain you shall all be fine.” She stepped out of the doorway to let me pass. “I will return in three days and save you from his experiments.”

“That will be much appreciated. Why three days? It will only take you a day either way.”

“I have business of my own with Lord Eryant.”

Before I could ask her what business she spoke of, Kat spotted me.

“Tourth, what do you think of our disguises?” She spread the skirt of an identical dress to Wren’s except instead on a non-descript green, hers was rust brown. Padding changed her shape, giving her more generous curves and the well padded hips of a matron. The wimple concealed her hair. “Do you think we will be accosted?”

I shook my head, suddenly realizing what I was doing. I didn’t know when I would see her again, if ever should this plan fail. “You will be safe in Wren’s hands. I trust her.” Even as I said the words, I found that I believed them. I did trust her to protect Kat. She liked Kat. The two of them had bonded on a level that I had never seen Kat bond with another woman before. Wren would let nothing happen to her.

“I am going to miss you, Tourth.” Kat wrapped me in a fierce hug with her head to my chest, face buried in the front of my tunic like she had as a child. “Promise me you will be careful.” They were the exact words she had used the day I went off to war. I tightened my arms around her, squeezing her back.

“I will. I promise.”

“You better. You are all the family I have left.”

“And what are we?”Arthus asked from a short ways away. “Strangers?”

“Is she crying yet?” Dardon asked.

“I don’t cry,” Kat protested with a suspicious swipe at her face as she whirled around to face him.

“Well, if you are done breaking your brother’s ribs, can I get a squeeze before you go?” Dardon opened his arms to her.

She hugged him before looking around. “Where is Svhen?”

Arthus shrugged. “Who knows. You know how he is about partings.”

“I am here.” Svhen stepped out from behind the smoke house and crossed to Kat, offering an uncharacteristic hug, which Kat willingly accepted.

“Hey!” Arthus protested. “It is my turn.”

Kat smiled and plowed into his waiting arms. Something was different about their exchange, though. It took me a moment to realize what it was. It actually was a couple things: the way he stroked her hair, pressed his cheek to the top of her head, and closed his eyes as though drinking her in. Something more than just brotherly affection appeared in his expression. I tore my gaze away, unnerved by the possibility, only to find Wren studying me as though waiting for me to react.

“It was about time you saw it,” she commented under her breath.

“How long has it been going on?”

She shrugged. “Since before I came.”

“It is reciprocated?”

She looked back at the couple, now separated and bantering like best pals. “It is definitely not communicated. I have yet to determine if she is aware of it.”

“Yet, you are?”

“I suspect that Arthus has loved your sister for a very long time. He has all the signs of a young man resolved to never admit it.”

I groaned. All I needed was a love sick man on my hands along with all my other problems.

“I would recommend leaving them alone to work out their issues. Kat is not completely apposed to Arthus. If he ever gets around to courting her, he will probably find her welcoming.” She glanced over at me. “We should be going.”

I nodded.

“Three days,” she reminded me and then went off to gather Kat from her conversation with Arthus. Within moments they were both mounted and riding out the gates. I couldn’t help praying that we would still be here when she returned.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wren

Our journey passed more quickly than I expected it to. Fall sunshine warmed out backs and heads. The roads, still slightly muddy from the rain the day before, were passable with very little inconvenience. I found it very pleasant traveling with a companion. Even when we lapsed into silence, it was nice having someone there.

We arrived at the border of Lord Eryant’s land as the sun was beginning to approach the horizon to our right. The transition was marked by a well kept stone wall, stretching off into the forest perpendicular to the trail to the east and west. A sign post, solidly placed, declared that we were entering the domain of Earl Eryant, Lord of Sidle Valley and its citizens.

Passing that marker was like stepping into a completely different world. Well tended fields spread out from the road, bordered by hedges, stone walls, and long rows of trees. The road changed as well, it was well maintained, clear of the holes, deep ruts, and other hazards of the roads on the other side of the mountain. Men, on their way home from the fields, joined us as we continued toward the castle gleaming in the setting sunlight. I was impressed with the number of respectful salutes we received as we passed the men.

As we neared the castle, I began to look for a place to shed our disguises. Spotting a cluster of trees a short ways back from the main road, I turned off toward them.

“Where are we going?” Kat asked as she followed.

“To take off our disguises. You don’t want to ride through Lord Eryant’s gates dressed as you are.”

“You have a point.”

“I was thinking those trees up ahead would work.” I glanced back at her. “How long have you known Lord Eryant?”

“Since childhood. Our parents would visit each other at least once a year. I was good friends with his younger brother growing up. Father fostered Lord Eryant and his brothers when he was still only Philon Pendraco and a nuisance.”

“Brothers?” I asked, thinking of my own. I was thankful that we had not been part of the nobility. The thought of losing a moment of my childhood time with my brothers was painful. We had such a short time as it was.

“Three. Hiller, Iscarus, and Warwick were always getting into trouble.”

“And Lord Eryant didn’t get into trouble?” I asked.

She laughed. “He was usually starting it.”

“Where was Tourth at the time?” I asked as we entered the grove. I dismounted. “Did he foster with the brother’s father?”

“No.” Kat dismounted smoothly despite her cumbersome outfit and padding. “Father needed him to remain at home. The fostering of Lord Eryant’s sons brought companionship for Tourth. He was into mischief right along with them. Father constantly had to punish all five of them because he wasn’t able to find out which was actually at fault.”

Unwrapping the wimple from around my head, I frowned. It didn’t make sense. If Tourth had been so close to Lord Eryant and his brothers during their youth, why was he not willing to seek their help now? I puzzled over this as I continued to strip to my usual clothing beneath the padding and dress.

“Did they have a falling out about anything after they grew up?” I asked.

Kat paused, hair pin in hand, in the midst of letting down her hair from the wimple. Her brows furrowed slightly. “No, I don’t think they did. Why?”

“I was trying to figure out why Tourth has not asked for help from them. Based on what you have told me so far, Lord Eryant would be the perfect one to offer assistance.”

“Oh, that. Tourth is just being stubborn. Ever since he returned from the war, he has acted like he is no longer what he was. He cut his ties to everyone except those who need him.” She frowned. “It is as though he wishes to do penance for his part in the war. It is only recently that he has been opening up to Arthus, Dardon, and Svhen.”

“So, Dardon and the others were not invited to return to Iselyn?” I frowned. That was not the impression that Dardon had given me.

“Tourth did invite them.” She tucked the final strand behind her left ear. “He knew if he didn’t they would have no place to go.”

“They were the first of his good deeds with which he attempted to atone.” I nodded. It made sense. The problem was that it was very wrong. I was thankful that he had done what he had, taking these men in and giving them purpose, but his motives, if Kat was correct, revealed a deeper problem than I realized before. He didn’t see that he was already forgiven. Deus had atoned for his sin long ago.

I smoothed my tunic, settled my belt around my hips, and checked my throwing knives. I would have to pray about this. I had no ideas on how to address the new problem, but I did have ideas about dealing with the issue of needing support. Just because Tourth wasn’t willing to ask for help from the Earl of Sidle, he couldn’t prevent me from calling in a favor.

“Are you ready?” I asked Kat.

“As ready I am going to be,” she replied.

We mounted again and returned to the road. The sun was kissing the horizon now, coloring the sky in a blush of pink. There were still men on the road traveling home. I was astonished when they extended the same greeting as they had when we were old women. I tried to recall back to the last time I had traveled in the valley of Sidle. As far as I could recall it had been the same, a friendly courtesy.

Our approach to the castle was noted despite our lack of entourage or banner. I watched the activity with amusement. Two women traveling alone were unusual enough to cause a stir. When one dressed as I did, it was bound to excite action. As I expected, we were greeted at the gate by an armed man in uniform.

“Welcome to Sedlyn Castle, Mistress Romany. We are delighted to see you again so soon.” He bowed deeply. My astonishment must have shown on my face because the man hurried on to explain. “You were recognized by the sentry on duty. Lord Eryant has been notified of your arrival and asks that you accompany me to the great hall.”

I glanced at Kat. She was preoccupied with getting to the ground. I wondered what she thought of this. I wasn’t even sure I knew what to think about this twist. I had not met the Earl. However, I had done him a great service.

A month ago, he had been on the trail of a band of marauders. They were raiding his outlying homesteads, trampling fields, and harassing his peasants. I happened upon his men on the far southern border of his lands. They needed a tracker to find the marauders’ camp. I located them within two days, in time for them to prevent the planned raid on the Earl’s granary.

“How do they know you?” she asked softly as we walked across the inner courtyard toward the keep.

“I did his men a favor a little while ago. I had hoped he would be grateful enough to consider helping Tourth. However, this is more than I expected.” I looked up at the heavy doors at the front entrance of the keep. “At least I can use it to your brother’s advantage.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wren Romany - © 2009 Rachel Rossano

Chapter VIII

Tourth

I had to do something. There were no more harvests to give me an excuse to stall. I still had no idea what to decide, though. I had mulled and prayed the past two weeks almost constantly. My mind retraced the familiar arguments. I counted the options as the water coursed down my face.

I could leave, pack up everyone and leave. We had little to live on and even less to take with us, but we could seek our fortune in another valley. However, something within me couldn’t bare the thought of leaving. Despite the fact it was a fraction of what my childhood home had been, it was still my home. The place I had envisioned coming home to every night and where I wanted to be.

Another possibility was what my comrades at arms had suggested. I could stand up and fight. Claiming my inheritance and all that was due me was as risky as leaving was heart wrenching. There was no hope that in my and my men’s strength alone we could withstand Orac’s Enforcer long enough to stake and validate my claim. There had to be a third option.

“Tourth.”

A familiar voice broke through my thoughts. I looked up to find myself standing at the door to the old guard quarters where we lived. I was home. As I thought back I had no recollection of walking the three miles between the farm and there.

“You really need to pay more attention to your surroundings,” Roulf cautioned as he appeared at my side. “I have been trailing you for a mile now, and you didn’t so much as look around. If I had known that you were being this careless I would have come sooner.”

I frowned at him. That sounded bad. “Why?” I opened the door and stepped inside, dripping rainwater all over the fresh rushes Kat had laid down the day before. The smell of slightly burnt meat filled my nose almost instantly.

“The Enforcer has started using press gangs to pick up every available male in the valley. He intends to have his mansion finished for the anticipated arrival of King Orac.”

“When is this to happen?” I asked, sinking to the bench next to the door to remove my boots.

“A day you should know well,” the shopkeeper replied solemnly. “He is coming for the celebration marking the anniversary of his ascension to the throne.”

My hands froze, laces dropped from suddenly unresponsive fingers as my head filled with the memories of that terrible day. Marching through the city streets with my hands bound behind me, the jeering crowds pressing us on all sides, I closed my eyes, but the images were not easily closed out.

“Press gangs?” I struggled to get my brain to think.

“Oh, it is you.” Kat entered the room. “Hello, Roulf, what brings you here?”

“Bad news, I fear,” he informed her, laying a hand on my shoulder. “Are you going to be alright, Tourth?”

I nodded. “Just give me a minute. Some memories are harder to banish than others.” I carefully gathered up my laces and retied my boots. I needed to think, and being shut in doors was not going to help me do that. I thought better when I was in motion, I always had. “I am going to take a walk.”

“But it is raining outside,” Kat protested.

“The press gangs…” Roulf didn’t stop in time to check his words. Kat’s face drained of color.

“What press gangs?” she asked.

I sighed heavily. “I will stay close to the keep and out of sight,” I assured Roulf before leaning over to kiss the top of my sister’s head. “Give Roulf some food and something warm to drink. He can fill you in and the others when they arrive. I need to think on my own for a bit before we decide what to do.”

Kat searched my face for a moment before nodded. “Be safe,” she cautioned before turning to Roulf. “I am sorry to say I have only burnt venison to offer you and some mulled cider.”

“That sounds filling Miss Mynth,” Roulf was saying as I closed the door behind me. He would explain things better than I could and soothe her worry a bit in the process.

I stepped out into the ever increasing down pour and headed out to the east, up the valley toward the tree line. There were no roads in that direction, only wilderness, trees, and wild animals. In this downpour I doubted any animals would be moving about to bother me and the shelter of the thick wood would be perfect for thinking. I turned my face toward my destination and started praying.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wren

He wasn’t a total idiot. I had to admit that. As I stood in the shelter of a rather large pine with more character than its neighbors, I watched Tourth.

Kat was right. He obviously needed to move to think. He paced back and forth along the top of a fallen tree. He struck the side at regular intervals with a stick in his right hand. I couldn’t hear his voice, but his lips moved as though he were speaking to himself or perhaps praying. A fall of sopping brown hair was plastered to his forehead. I was debating whether or not I should interrupt his thoughts when he turned and jumped off the log with a squelch. Frowning down at his soaked feet, he grew still amid the constant uneven tempo of rain dripping from leaf to leaf over our heads.

I stepped from my shelter and approached him. “Have you decided?”

His head snapped up in surprise. “How did you find me?” he demanded. “I didn’t leave a trail.”

I debated letting on that he had. His trail, though fainter than the one an inexperienced man might have left, had been pretty easy to follow. Settling on a more elusive response, I shrugged. “Kat asked us to look for you. She is getting worried.”

“She sent all of them out to look for me? And only you found me.”

“I figured you would choose somewhere out of the way to think. I had come bearing news, but Roulf said he had already informed you about the press gangs. He didn’t say anything about the Enforcer having an eye for attractive women, but I am guessing that is old news.”

He nodded, retreating again behind a contemplative mask. “That is why Kat rarely leaves the keep.”

Silence settled between us. The shadows, deepened by the setting sun weighed upon us as we stood.

“So, have you made a decision?”

“Part of one.” I raised my eyebrows and regarded him patiently. Finally he glanced my way and interpreted the expression. “Kat needs to go to Lord Eryant.”

“She isn’t going to go willingly.”

“Well, she doesn’t have a choice,” he replied more forcefully as he studied the branch still in his hand. “I can’t protect her anymore, and I am going to need all of my attention and concentration for what lies ahead. Worrying about her safety would be a distraction I cannot allow myself. She has to go.”

I watched the play of emotion in his features: fear, resolve, determination, and uncertainty in almost equal parts. “You are going to stake a claim on your title.”

He pinned me with a dark gaze scanned my face briefly. “Yes. I have no other choice.”

Although a number of alternatives jumped to my mind, I didn’t open my mouth. If all the prayer and thought had culminated in this decision, I was willing to wager that it was Deus’ will.

“How far is it?”

“To Lord Eryant’s stronghold?” I nodded. He shrugged. “A day’s ride.”

“I will take her,” I volunteered. He looked surprised so I explained. “I am the best choice. If you are making a stand, you will need to lay low and keep the other men with you for protection. The press gangs will be roaming the roads. They won’t be interested in two women should they spot us.”

“They might be interested in you for other reasons.”

I shook my head. “I know how to keep them at bay. Trust me. There are a couple options, and I need to speak with Kat to choose which to use. So, how are you planning to make your claim?”

“I was thinking of sending word to King Orac,” he grimaced at the name, “stating that I wish to lay claim to lands. I will say that I have just returned to my home, found it in disrepair and my people being treated like vassals of his Enforcer. I will state that I wish to swear allegiance to his throne and take my rightful place.”

“Then what?”

“Then we wait. I am hoping that when he arrives at the celebration, I will be able to present myself as a mighty leader willing to join forces with the king. To do this I will have to organize the farmers as best I can, gather my father’s former troops, the ones I can, and parade into town.”

“With Lord Eryant’s backing.”

He shook his head. “All I can ask of Lord Eryant is that he protect Kat. This move is imprudent at best and down right foolish at worst. I will not ask him to back my claim at the detriment of his own prestige. He is a good man. I do not want to make trouble between him and the king.”

I watched him throw away his branch. I had no qualms about asking Lord Eryant for his assistance. I would try to speak to him while I was there delivering Kat.

“Kat is not going to go willingly,” he muttered to himself.

“Let me speak to her. I think I can explain it so that she will understand.”

He smiled over at me in relief. “Thank you. I am still not too happy about facing Svhen, Dardon, and Arthus when I return.”

“I thought they were for you taking a stand and claiming your title and lands.”

“Just watch. When I tell them, they will change sides.” He brushed his hands off on his shirt and then stared at it as though just realizing how soaked he really was. “How long have I been gone?”

“Kat said you left two hours before I returned and it has been at least an hour since then.”

“We should go.” He started off in the direction he had come, tramping through the underbrush and pushing aside branches as he fought his way out into the open. I followed at a distance, planning my own strategy on how to help my new found family.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

“How can I do it?” Kat demanded later that evening in the dinky kitchen. Her blue eyes flashed fire at me. “I have never left my brother before and I am not going to leave him now. I have only just begun to see glimmers of the man he used to be. I am not willing to leave. I don’t want him to retreat to the shell that came home from the war.”

There was barely enough room for two. I was thankful for that fact because it had kept the others from follow us in there.

“Kat, listen to me for a minute. I understand your anguish. I too have lost brothers that I sometimes doubt that I will ever see again. I have seen the shattered souls that remain within the eyes of the battle-scarred. I am telling you that this is the only way you can help your brother.”

“How?” Kat flung the word at me. Anger flushed her cheeks and brightened her eyes, but I identified the emotion behind them, fear.

“Get me an audience with Lord Eryant.”

“What? How will that help my brother?”

“He is not willing to ask Lord Eryant for help in his claim, but I have no such restraints. I intend to speak with the man and ask for the support that Tourth so desperately needs.”

She considered this. “If you ask in the right way, he will listen. I cannot guarantee he will do it though.”

“We won’t know until we try,” I pointed out. “We can’t try unless you go, and go willingly.”

“If Tourth figures out your plan, he will stop you.”

“Then don’t tell him.” I held out my hand to her. “I want to help you, Kat. Will you help me?”

She regarded me for a moment. “You truly are an unusual woman.” She smiled and took my hand. “Now how are we getting over the mountain?”

“Ah, I have a few ideas.” I smiled mischievously. “Shall we be old women, young men, or lepers?” Her eyes widened in surprise. “Don’t worry. This will be fun.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wren Romany - © 2009 Rachel Rossano

Chapter VII

Tourth

While I waited for Wren’s return, I retreated to the ruins of the lookout tower. At least none of the others would dare bother me there. It was my haven, the one place that I made it clear I wanted to never be interrupted. Perched high among the ragged, scared stone parapet points still standing, I almost felt as free as one of Wren’s falcons. On some nights the wind would blow, gusting and filling my ears with a roar that blocked out all other sounds. Up there I could look out over my little plot of ground, the only place I still could call mine, and pretend that my parents still lived.

Looking out on the darkness, I asked Deus the question that I had been asking since I returned to find my parents gone beyond my reach and my sister grieving and needing from me more than I could give. Deus, what should I do? I leaned my forehead against the cold stone. I breathed deeply of the ancient smells of earth and damp.

The desire to follow Deus’ will burned in my soul. That same desire had led me to leave years ago to fight for my king. When the battle took all that I had, I returned home to even more destruction and devastation. Despite the evidence to the contrary, I knew that Deus was merciful and loving. The training engrained into my memory, actions, and thoughts from youth reassured me that He was, but I often struggled with that fact in the harsh reality of the right now. It was hard to see the big picture and overarching plan when the details hurt so much. Just when I think that I had found peace, the past would intrude into the present and the future would demand change. I concentrated on the cold seeping into my body, cooling my anger-fevered skin.

Please show me the way, Father. For right now I am blind and liable to walk into a ditch and kill us all.

A small whirlwind of flapping wings brought my attention to the wooden framing next to me just in time to see a rather large bird alight. Straightening her feathers, the dark-pigmented female falcon coldly fixed an eye on me. Even in the darkness and dim moonlight, I could catch the intelligent glint in its gaze. I remained completely still. After switching eyes and shifting its weight a few times, it appeared to deem me harmless and began preening its feathers.

“She likes you.” Wren’s words slipped through the night as though they belonged there. I turned my head to find her sitting cross-legged on top of the parapet across from me. The bird’s head turned and she regarded with Wren with first one eye and then the other. She made a sound in greeting and returned to her preening.

“She does?”

She nodded. “Volante doesn’t take to people she doesn’t know very often. The fact she was comfortable enough to let you out of her sight to preen is a sign of trust.”

I peered into the darkness at Wren. Her head was angled so she could see both me and the bird, the moonlight at her back, caressing her shoulders, outlining the angle of her cheek and hiding her expression. She had all the habits of a woman who knew how to hide in plain sight.

“How is Roulf?”

“Well as far as I could assess. I helped him with some unwelcome company and in return he wishes to immortalize me as the Ghost of Davron Alley.”

I smiled. “That sounds like Roulf.”

“He also told me to give this back,” she said as she held out the small bag of coins I had given her before. Once I had focused on them, she tossed them to me. “He also sent a warning. There are rumors that you are in the valley. He predicts that is it only a matter of time before the Enforcer comes to search this ruin to disprove the rumors.”

My chest tightened as I lowered my head, hiding my face from her view.

Volante made a noise and moved across the short distance to Wren’s position. With a swift bat of her wings, she was airborne, flinging her small body at the woman, claws first. Wren raised her arm, sheathed in a leather sleeve. Sharp claws caught the material and the bird came to perch, sharp beak inches from the smooth moonlit outline of Wren’s face. The bird then shifted her weight, lifting a leg up, offering the small message tube.

“Impatient to deliver her message,” Wren commented as she accepted the gift and the bird retreated to the edge. Then with a final head bob my way, Volante was gone.

“Oh, that life was as simple as hers,” I whispered.

“It isn’t simple. Hers is a complicated journey everyday, seeking out my siblings, and returning. Falcons are not as welcome other places as they are here. In many lands, they are considered prizes to capture or kill.”

“How many siblings?”

“Eight other than myself.” She tucked the message deep into a pocket.

“Who was that from?”

“An elder brother, most likely. So, what do you plan to do about the Enforcer?”

I lowered my head and shrugged. “Pray and hope the Lord will reveal a way for us to take.”

When I finally did look up, she studied my face. Although I couldn’t see her eyes on me, I could feel their steady scrutiny. “I will pray as well,” she replied. Then in one fluid motion she rose to her feet. Unaffected by the sheer drop three stories to the cobbled courtyard below, she stepped from stone to stone to the rickety stairs and disappeared down them.

How does she figure in all of this Deus? She has come out of nowhere like an answer to prayer, but which prayer? I lowered my head again, rubbing my scalp with my fingertips. Please give us a clear indication soon.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wren

Two weeks passed without event. Then the rain came. It started with a few drops, catching the nose and cheeks, speckling the dust with dark splotches. We raced to get the last of the grain from the fields as we prayed that the Lord would hold it off a few hours longer. In His grace, He did.

With the last of the grain under a tarp in the wagon behind us, we stood just inside Farmer Hanor’s barn and watched the overburdened skies unleash their load in a torrent.

“Praise the Lord, we made it,” Arthus murmured, his voice only slightly louder than the pounding of the rain.

“Aye,” Svhen agreed.

“We are still going to have to walk home in it,” Dardon pointed out with a grimace. “I wasn’t planning on a drenching or I would have brought my cloak.” None of us had brought our cloaks. The walk home promised to be wet and cold.

“So, what is next?” I asked Tourth, who leaned against the door jam at my left and stared moodily into the downpour. Even as the words fell from my lips, a lone rider appeared on the lane to the homestead.

“Who is it?” Dardon asked.

Svhen answered, “He wears the livery of the Enforcer.”

Within moments, the four men disappeared without a sound. Svhen melted into the shadows beyond one of the stall walls; Arthus slipped into the wagon, beneath the grain; Dardon swung up into the overhead loft; and Tourth slipped out the back exit that opened into the paddock. I was left standing, hay fork in hand, in the overly wide doorway when the stranger approached and dismounted to bring his horse out of the weather.

“Pardon miss, where might I…” He paused upon looking on my face. “You were the maid wearing trousers.”

I lowered my head and curtseyed clumsily. “Aye, sir. How might I help you?”

“You are a pretty one,” he commented studying my lowered head. There was no malice in his tone. “Your brother shouldn’t let you roam out alone. You might catch the Enforcer’s eye.”

I curtseyed again. “I will tell him, sir. Do you seek anyone in particular?”

“I do. Is this the land of Farmer Loer? I need to speak to him on a matter of great urgency.”

“Farmer Loer is not at hand, but his wife is within the house.” I pointed to the building across the yard. “Do you wish for me to seek her?”

“No, I will.” He threw his horse’s reins around the nearest post and knotted them. “Thank you for your help.”

I nodded, not meeting his eyes and busied myself with unloading the last of the hay from the wagon while he walked away. When I thought he was far enough to no hear, I gently poked Arthus’ hiding place. “You should leave before he returns.”

He rolled out of the hay, whisps clinging to his hair, to frown up at me. “Are you sure you will be fine?”

“Of course she will,” Dardon commented, jumping down from the loft. “Have you seen what she can do with a knife?” I had demonstrated a small sampling of my skills for him the week before.

“No. But regardless, she shouldn’t be left alone.”

Svhen hurtled the stall wall with surprising ease for a man as large as he. “Tyron is a good man,” he commented with a nod toward where the man had disappeared. “He won’t molest her. Besides it will look suspicious if she isn’t here when he returns.”

Arthus frowned at Svhen. “That was Tyron?”

Dardon looked from one to the other. “You know him?”

Svhen shrugged. “Have to get news somehow. He doesn’t like his master.”

“Svhen encountered him on the edge of Ruther’s property a few days ago. They struck up a mutual appreciation,” Arthus explained.

“A possible ally?” Dardon asked.

Svhen shrugged again.

“You should tell Tourth about him.”

“Already did,” Svhen replied and sauntered toward the paddock door.

As he disappeared outside, Dardon grimaced after him. “Sometimes I cannot comprehend that man.”

“Not everyone tells you everything, Dardon,” Arthus pointed out before turning to me and studying my face. “Are you sure you will be alright?”

I smiled at his concern. “I have been taking care of myself for years. I am certain I can deal with Tyron should he try anything inappropriate. I will see you later.”

“Hurry up, Arthus,” Dardon complained. “He is going to come back any minute.”

The two of them followed Svhen and I turned back to the hay. Roughly an hour and a half later, the man that Svhen had called Tyron returned walking through the rain as though it wasn’t even there. He shook off his heavy cloak upon reaching the shelter of the barn.

“Mistress Loer says I should speak to you.”

I stopped my work, and turned to him with raised eyebrows. He was an quiet-looking man about the age I placed Tourth at. “Why did she say that?”

“I have news that she believes you should know.”

He met my gaze evenly with dark hazel eyes. There was no cruelty in their expression or in the lines of his face, only a weary honesty tested by circumstances beyond his control. I turned back to my work, heaving the pitching fork under another load of hay. “And that would be?”

Accepting that I was not going to volunteer anything, he spoke his piece. “The Enforcer is planning on hosting a celebration, an anniversary celebration of the rise of King Orac to the throne. He has hopes that the King himself will attend. In preparation, he is demanding his mansion be completed before the festivities. To do so, he is pressing every able bodied man his men can find into work. Every able-bodied man,” he said, accenting the last words heavily. “Mistress Loer said your brother needed to know this.”

I didn’t immediately reply. My thoughts were with the men who had just left me. “How soon is this new order effective?”

“Immediately.”

I nodded as I hurled another load of hay upward into the lift that would bring it into the loft. “I will see that my brother hears of it, sir. Thank you.”

“Wish your brother well for me,” Tyron said as he untied his horse. “And don’t forget what I said about you being about on your own. The Enforcer is always looking out for pretty maids to share his bed. I wouldn’t want you to end up there.”

I glanced his way as he mounted, but he wasn’t watching me anymore. I was grateful for the warning. I hadn’t known the Enforcer was so carnally inclined. It was something I might be able to use to my advantage in the future, should I need to get into the mansion. However for now, I had more pressing things to work on. I lay my fork in the corner as the horse and rider rounded the bend in the lane. Now I needed to get home and find Tourth. He was going to have to decide on a course of action soon.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wren Romany - © 2009 Rachel Rossano

Chapter VI

Wren

Dinner was a tense affair. I began to wonder if I had stumbled across a gopher hole mine. It began with Tourth informing the others about my discovery.

Dardon’s reaction was to lower his leg of mutton. “What will be our response?”

“The same as it has always been,” Tourth replied.

Arthus leaned back uncomfortably and focused intently on his meal. Kat’s blue eyes darted warily from Dardon to Tourth and back again. Svhen continued eating without pause or raising his eyes, but I sensed a sudden tension in him despite the lack of physical signs. I had long learned to trust my instincts. This was a long standing argument that even put Svhen on edge.

“We sit back, watch them suffer, and do nothing.” Dardon shoved his dish across the uneven surface of the table almost spilling it into Tourth’s lap. He leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest boring a hole in Tourth’s head with his dark eyes.

“Dardon, we have been over this many times.” Tourth calmly moved the plate and mutton a safer distance from the edge. “We are doing something.”

“Putting food on their tables isn’t enough when the Enforcer is killing off their men. You know Simon lost his leg a month ago and only last week the Gibonson boy was hit in the head and died. The working conditions at the mansion are inhumane. All you would have to do is declare your identity and claim your birthright and you could spare these people from that monster. It is only a matter of time before he discovers us anyway and puts us to work there as well.”

Tourth’s knuckles grew white where he gripped his plate. The movement of the meat to his mouth was slow and deliberate. Tension grew thicker with every silent moment.

“You know it isn’t as simple as that, Dardon,” Kat said, showing more courage than I had given her credit for. “Father and Mother died simply for taking a stand.”

“He is only protecting his own hide and he knows it,” Dardon replied. Surging to his feet, he crashed out the door into the darkness, cursing under his breath.

Tourth didn’t move. His breathing was slow and painfully regular, his dark head bowed so that his face was hidden from my sight, but the muscles in the forearm resting on the table were tight with tension. I watched him warily as he struggled to regain his temper. Kat quietly removed Dardon’s portion from the table, being careful to give Tourth a wide berth.

“I will go see he doesn’t do himself harm,” Arthus finally volunteered, breaking the heavy weight of restrained words and actions, before disappearing out the door.

“Bed,” Svhen muttered. He followed practically on Arthus’ heels. I doubted that was truly where he was headed since his usual sleeping place was inside the house in the opposite direction.

I continued to eat. It would take more than an argument to stop me from eating. It was a habit born of years of not knowing where my next meal would come from. I pulled off a piece of the roasted mutton with my teeth and chewed slowly. The meat was tender and well prepared. Kat was a pretty decent cook most of the time. While I worked on my bite, I continued to watch Tourth.

He didn’t move, but as Kat continued cleaning up and I eating, the muscles in his arms slowly relaxed, his knuckles returned to a more normal color, and his breathing eased into a natural rhythm. Once I was certain that he had calmed to the point that he wouldn’t lunge at me, I spoke.

“I haven’t been around long enough to hear the reasons why you are choosing to do nothing, and I would prefer hearing from you rather than someone else.”

His head snapped up, and his eyes glared at me for a moment before softening. “Sorry about that.” Sighing deeply, he reached around to catch Kat’s arm as she moved past him. “I am sorry, Kat, but I seem to have lost my appetite.”

She grimaced. “You know you should have let me know that everyone was going to fight and lose their appetite tonight.”

“Sorry.”

She waved off his apology and claimed his portion as well.

With a heavy sigh, he leaned his elbows on the table, ran his hands through his hair as though to clear his mind, and finally met my gaze again. “It all comes down to the past. My father and mother died because my father refused to comply with Orac. If I stand up and declare my rights, I will simply be dealt with in the same manner and this time, he will probably kill Kat too. What will that gain the people?”

“Was your father aware that Orac wanted him dead?”

“Not as far as I know.”

“Then you have an advantage that your father didn’t have,” I pointed out.

“I also have no troops or walls to defend myself. I have no money to build an army or even a simple castle keep. If I stood up and proclaimed my rights only to demand that my people build my fortress instead of the Enforcer’s how would that be better?”

Katherine sat down next to him. “At least they would know that your fortress would be used to protect them and not to oppress them. You have to admit that Dardon has some good points.”

“He does,” Tourth agreed. “But I cannot see how it will work out any way expect for in disaster.”

“Surely your father wasn’t the only lord to speak out against Orac,” I commented.

Kat answered, suddenly eager. “Father’s friend, Lord Eryant in the next valley used to back up father when he was alive. He even sent me a letter offering help should I ever need it. Lydia had already offered me shelter and I wanted to stay close to home should you return so I wrote back thanking him for his offer and explaining that I wished to stay with my old nurse.”

“Perhaps he would assist you,” I suggested.

Tourth sighed heavily. “I will consider it. But for now, I am going to prepare for a trip into the village tonight.”

As he rose from the table, Kat caught his arm. “Please don’t go. Send someone else.”

“I will go,” I volunteered. “I have great deal of experience moving without detection. I could move in and out without even the storekeeper knowing if you wished.”

Tourth scrutinized me for a moment before agreeing. “Kat has the list of what we need. Come find me in the stable for the money when you are ready to leave.” He then turned and left, closing the door firmly behind him.

“He doesn’t really know what to do,” Kat commented, looking after her brother in concern. “I don’t know how to help him and neither do the others.”

Crossing to a slate on the wall, she took it down and set it before me. It was a short list of items, bare essentials that we couldn’t produce on our own or trade from the farmers around the area. I memorized it easily and rose to follow the others. Kat stopped me. “Please go easy on him. He is trying his best.”

I nodded. “I only want to help.” Then I pulled my heavy woolen cloak from the hook by the door stepped out into the chilly night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The village was silent and dark, not even a glimmer of light shone in any of the windows. It was easy to spot and avoid the Enforcer’s men. They tramped along alleys and streets in groups of two, holding lanterns aloft to light their way. Every time they came near my position, I shrank into the shadows, huddled down in my cape behind an object, and waited in silent stillness for them to pass.

Tourth’s clear instructions led me straight to the shopkeeper’s back door, a rough hewn slab of wood, thick and sturdy, left slightly ajar in preparation for my arrival. Just as I was about to dash across the open alley to enter it, a sudden noise made me pause. Two of the Enforcer’s men came shambling around the corner, slightly drunk as they wove back and forth along the narrow way.

“Well looky here,” the elder one muttered, tapping the door open with his sword.

A middle-aged man, slightly gray at the temples appeared in the doorway and looked at the soldiers in alarm.

“Expecting someone old man?” the young, skinny one asked, shoving the shop owner back against the now open door.

“I was only inventorying my stock,” the man Tourth had called Roulf protested.

My fingers crept to the throwing knife at my waist. I had made sure to strap all five on before I left just for such an emergency. Now as my palm weighed the hilt’s reassuring smoothness, I debated how it would be best to use it.

“Hardly a job to do so late at night,” the older, more flabby soldier drawled. He drew his eating knife and began picking his teeth with it. My stomach rolled. It was a nasty habit that so many men did. It always left a dirty knife. I hope he slipped. “Who knows who would come along and try your door and perhaps murder you at your work? It is fortunate for you that we happened along when we did.”

“Yeah, you might have been assaulted or something.” The skinny man shoved the Roulf’s head back against his door, banging the wood next to it with the hilt of his drawn sword. “Good thing we were walking by. Seems you are in our debt.”

“Worth a cask of ale or something…”

I couldn’t stand it any more. I let my first dagger fly. It whizzed past the flabby one, nicking his ear and buried itself in the door two inches from the skinny one’s hand. The second was on its way before they could even react. It flew pass the other side of Flabby’s face and embedded in the doorframe inches from his nose.

Flabby yelped, dropped his eating knife, and grabbed his ear while Skinny jumped away from my first knife as though it was a snake rearing up to strike. Both of them let loose a stream of profanities that made my skin crawl. I wanted to release another blade, but I restrained myself to watch how my first assault was received.

Flabby was attempting to regain control of the situation. He peered into the darkness of the alley in the wrong direction. Skinny grabbed a lantern and strode off in search of me among the shadows on the side of the alley opposite them. Swiftly melting into the shadows of a doorway, I waited. As I guessed, Skinny swept past my huddled form without a second glance. He probably supposed I was a bundle of laundry waiting for the wash or something else of little consequence. However, when they turned back to question Roulf, they discovered something even stranger.

“Where are the knives?” Skinny squeaked.

“What knives, sir?” Roulf inquired. He had apparently removed them from the door frame and door when their attention was elsewhere.

Flabby lunged forward, grabbing Roulf by the back of his tunic and shoving his face into the wood of the door. “The knife that made that mark you imbecile,” he demanded.

Roulf played the innocent. “That has been there since before I owned the shop, sir. I don’t know where the knife is that made that.”

Skinny’s face, ashen in the lantern light, stared at the spot on the door as though he were losing his mind. Flabby wasn’t giving up easily though. “And this?” He shoved his blood covered hand in Roulf’s face. “Where did this come from if not from a knife nicking my ear?”

“What knife, sir?” Roulf cowered. “I saw a dragonfly bite you, sir. I saw no knife.”

Flabby swore, slapping Roulf’s face and leaving a smear of blood across it before returning his hand to his ear. “Come,” he ordered Skinny. “I am tired of this idiot. Let us check the tavern next.”

The two of them shuffled off into the darkness. Skinny whimpering that there was a knife, and Flabby swearing a blue streak at him to keep quiet. I waited until they turned the corner before slipping from my hiding place, across the street, and into the open door of Roulf’s shop. I closed the door firmly behind me, sliding the bolt home before turning to survey the interior.

“Welcome mistress,” Roulf said. He stood among the box lined shelves with a towel to his face, cleaning off the blood. “I have to admit I am a bit surprised to see you, but it makes sense.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, suddenly suspicious. I had purposefully kept a low profile since joining Tourth and his band.

“This is a small town, Mistress Romany. It isn’t every day that a female bounty hunter forces Steward Farley to pay the full bounty on a wanted horse thief. Also, you are pretty well known among the farmers. I think the only people who do not know of you via gossip are the Enforcer and his men.” He lowered the cloth from his face and smiled at me. “Don’t worry, we protect our own. He will not hear of you from one of us.”

I inclined my head. “Thank you for the quick thinking of removing my knives.”

He shrugged. “It is better for them to think they are going mad than to stage an outright rebellion. It keeps the simpletons from bothering us more than once. Those two were new to the area and thought I would be an easy score. I doubt they will be returning anytime soon.” He crossed to the herb garden along the window sill. Reaching behind the pots, he drew out my knives. “I am grateful for your quick thinking. I can ill afford to give away ale by the cask.”

“I have come to purchase some supplies.”

He nodded. “What does Kat need?” Pulling a slate toward him, he picked up a stub of chalk. I recited my list.

“I think I have it all. Let me go see.” He disappeared behind the first row of goods. “Help yourself to some of my wife’s cider while you wait,” he called over his shoulder. “It is the best in the valley.”

I complied. The cider was delicious, tart and sweet simultaneously, and blessedly cool as it slid down my throat. Within moments he had reappeared with a small sack full of what we needed. He set it on his work table and began double checking the contents against my list.

“I am actually very glad that you made this trip.” He moved aside the portion of gray cloth to fit in a bottle of cider. “It is getting too dangerous for Tourth to be seen about. If you were stopped, it wouldn’t go well with you, but,” he motioned to the knife hilt now back at my waist, “You can obviously take care of yourself. There are murmurings among those who have allegiance to Orac that the Lord of Mynth has returned. It is only a matter of time before the Enforcer turns his attention to looking for Tourth. If he doesn’t take measures to protect himself, you might all be in danger.”

I nodded. “What would you suggest?”

“If Tourth openly makes his claim, he will find more support among the residents of this valley than the Enforcer. Besides, if he takes his father’s title, the Enforcer’s presence will be redundant since his place is to keep order in this valley in absence of a governing lord.”

I mulled this new information as Roulf tied the mouth of the bag. He handed me the strings with a warning. “If Tourth does declare himself, he is going to need more than just his current band to keep him alive. You can be sure the Enforcer will try everything in his power to see that Tourth dies before his claim can be legalized by Orac.”

“I will tell him. Thank you for the provisions.” I held out the money Tourth had given me.

“I will not take it.” Roulf pushed my hand away gently. “All of that is worth far less than the cask of ale you saved me tonight and the peace I will most likely have to the next two weeks.” He smiled. “I will encourage the mystery of the ghost of Davron Alley and perhaps I shall have peace even longer.”

“I wish you well.” I bowed and exited, waiting until I heard the bolt sliding home before I slipped off into the darkness. My arms were heavy with goods and my mind heavy with information.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wren Romany - © 2009 Rachel Rossano