Chapter XIV

Wren

Even before the village into sight, the air began to change. Heavy with silence, the tingle of a coming storm prickled across my skin. I pulled Brone to a leisurely stop beside the road and looked over my shoulder to watch the dark clouds rolling over Iselyn. Brone shifted uneasily beneath me, eager to keep moving away from the storm. I listened to his signals and kneed him forward once again.

The village came into view as we crowned the fifth rise. Iselyn out of sight behind us, the rain arrived in a sudden onslaught of cold water that took my breath away. As much as I would have liked to stop and seek out shelter in Roulf's shop or even one of the inns, I resisted. We had a ways to go, and I didn't want to attract attention.

We passed through the village without incident. Almost all the buildings closed tight against the storm offered blank faces of wooden shutters and dripping stone. Even Roulf's store looked closed. Only the thin streams of smoke coming from the chimneys and occasional movements behind curtains revealed the life behind the dead façade. Unable to bear looking at the evidence of fear, I urged Brone onward toward the far side of town.

The rain caught up with us a half mile beyond the last house. Announcing itself without warning, the weather went from foreboding to deluge in seconds. Brone protested with a snort and a small prance of nerves. I pulled my hood down over my already sopping head and tugged the brim down to shelter my eyes.

I expected the roads to be empty, especially considering the pressing gangs, so I was surprised when a half-hour later I heard the sound of voices. Male shouts, distorted by the roar of the rain around me, came from the crossroads ahead. As I rounded the bend in the road and the weather-bent silhouette of the wooden marker came into view, I involuntarily reached for my first knife.

A crew of five men, bent dark shapes in the rain drove a train of eight chained men along the center of the road from the capital city. Punctuating their yells with cracking whips, they turned the line of captives onto the road I was following, the way to the Enforcer’s fortress. None of the men noticed me as I pulled Brone to a stop and watched them.

What do I do, Father? I hadn’t even considered the role I was going to play before the Enforcer and his men. A female bounty hunter would probably be accepted, especially if my fame preceded me, which was a possibility since I had a public run-in with Steward Farley not so long ago over my last catch. Because of that, my best bet would be to be myself, or at least a version of myself that the men would expect. I replayed the incident with Steward Farley in my head, refreshing my memory and forming my role.

“Hey you!”

One of the men separated himself from the rest and started back toward me with whip in hand. I drew back my hood with one hand while the other closed about the hilt of my knife.

“Where are you headed, sir?” I asked politely, drawing out my braid of hair from beneath my cloak. The man’s pace and body language changed with it and my face’s appearance.

“The local Enforcer’s fortress, miss.” He came to a stop next to Brone’s head and squinted up at my through the rain. “What brings you out and about in such weather?” He scanned the road behind me. “And without an escort.”

Reasonably sure he was not an immediate threat I used both of my hands to wring out my braid and begin winding it around my head. “Between bounties. You don’t happen to know of anyone would need my assistance, would you?”

“Bounty hunter?” He drew in his chin in disbelief and grunted.

“Perhaps you have heard of me,” I suggested, raising my hood once again. “The Romany.”

He lowered his face to hide his reaction, but his body language changed again.

“The Enforcer might have a task for you,” he finally offered. “Those men are some criminals for his building crew.” He turned to glance at the group slowly moving down the road behind him. “If you want, you can travel with us.”

“I appreciate it.” I nodded down at him.

With a grunt, he turned back to catch up with his prisoners. I followed far enough back to not crowd them, but close enough to scan the captives. My presence caused a mild sensation among the captors, but the captives continued to trudge forward with heads bowed.

Thus we traveled for an hour. The rain kept up a steady beat on our heads, turning the road to a mess of mud that lapped at Brone’s ankles with every step. The pedestrians had it much worse. Caked in brown, wet slop to their knees, the drivers endeavored to keep the captives moving at a quick pace despite the conditions and the upward slope of the road. However, their expectations were unrealistic. One man would stumble and the whole line went down on their knees, drawn down with their comrade by the chain binding them together. After the fifth incident of this kind, I approached the leader of the gang.

“Why don’t we stop and wait for the rain to let up?” I asked.

“Promised the Enforcer that I would have a new supply by noon.”

I frowned. Noon was at least four hours gone. The sky was darkening, and I judged that we would be in complete darkness within another hour.

“We only have another mile to go,” the leader added. “Just after that turn in the road,” he pointed where I could dimly see the road disappearing behind a copse of trees, “we usually catch our first glimpse of the castle. With this…” He swore profusely as one of the captives went down on one knee. Turning away toward the stumbler, he raised his whip to strike. I nudged Brone’s side sharply and he leapt forward, startling the leader so he scrambled to get out the way. I drew Brone to a stop a few feet in front of the slowly moving column, turning just in time to see the leader struggling to find purchase in the slippery muck. I couldn’t hide the smile that came to my face when I saw he had lost his whip in the mud.

“Sorry about that,” I called back to him above the roar of the rain. “My horse is skittish around whips.”

I couldn’t make out the words of the man’s response, but he was saying something loudly and in a tone that indicated his displeasure. His associates moved to assist him and I scanned the column of men taking advantage of the disruption to rest. One of the men had raised his head when I had called out my apology. He had been looking at the master, but now, he looked up at me, recognition in his eyes. My gut hardened with dread.

“Arthus.”

The name slipped from my lips in a whisper as my thoughts raced. He never made it to the king. He couldn’t have. Not in the amount of time that he has been gone. This meant that Tourth’s petition for recognition from the King was never delivered. I grimaced. Tourth needed to know immediately so that he could send out another petition.

The master was on his feet again and the group moved forward, giving Brone and myself wide birth. The satisfaction of the master’s empty hands was lost in my frenzied struggle to come up with a plan.

I hadn’t planned on staying long at the Enforcer’s fortress. If it weren’t for Arthus’ danger, I would have already spurred Brone back toward home. However, Arthus was here, a captive doomed to hard labor, something I couldn’t allow. I shut out the stories of the Enforcer’s treatment of his forced labor crew and forced my thoughts to organize. Following the column at a distance, I continued to scheme.

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

Tourth

Forty-five men in cramped quarters was hardly conducive to inner reflection. I reveled in the distraction and used the excuse of a chess game and a round of darts to keep my mind off of the future. The past was a bit harder to avoid considering Hiller and Iscarus were right there in the room, and every time I noticed them, a memory from childhood would explode in my thoughts. It seemed to take an eternity, but finally it was my turn to take watch. I stepped out into the drizzle with a sigh of relief.

“Not used to the company?” Iscarus stepped out the door behind me, shutting out the noise of the kitchen with a click of the latch.

“It is definitely more crowded.”

“The cost of safety,” he pointed out as he raised his hood.

“Where are you headed?” I asked, hoping to hear that it was far from my own post.

“Where ever you are. I am not on watch until tomorrow morning.” He met my gaze evenly. “I thought you might need someone to listen.”

I shook my head and peered into the darkness. My eyes gradually adjusted to the light change. “I am not in a talking mood, Iscarus.”

“In that case, I will just sit with you.”

I grimaced and strode out into the dark courtyard. I ignored the sound of him sloshing through the puddles behind me and concentrated on finding the gatehouse stairs. I was scheduled to watch from above the newly repaired gate. A task I would have preferred to accomplish alone.

I found the poor man I was replacing perched in the center of the arch over the gate. He looked up at our approach and then slowly unfolded himself beneath his cloak. Lifting a lantern so that he could see my face, he asked, “Password?”

“Very funny, Troj,” Iscarus replied.

“One can never be too careful,” the young man replied.

“I will vouch for his identity.”

“How do I know you aren’t a changeling?” Troj asked as he offered the lantern to me. I took it and lifted it so peer at the wet-shiny surface of his features.

“What about you?” I asked. “How do I know that you aren’t a changeling?”

He laughed. “You don’t.”

“Enough with the mind games, Troj.” Iscarus motioned for the man to leave.

“Is he always like that?" I asked as Troj disappeared down the stairwell.

"Usually. He likes to keep us on our toes."

I frowned. I didn't feel nearly as tolerant. I settled on the wet ledge, wincing as my cloak thirstily sucked up the freezing water. I leaned forward so that I could see out into the darkness as far as possible and grimaced as the rain dripped from the edge of my cloak onto my bare hands. I had forgotten my gloves, not that they would have helped much in these conditions.

"Reminds me of the night before the battle of Yornth," Iscarus commented as he settled in beside me.

"I wasn't there." Hoping that Iscarus would take the hint from my tone, I shoved my hands in my armpits and tried to keep the cold tendrils of memory at bay. Neither attempt worked. Iscarus continued to speak and my thoughts plodded helplessly to retrace the most painful memories of my life.

"It rained that night too." Iscarus' voice lowered, slowed by emotion. "My battalion was charged with defending Tanion Hill below Lord Orthan's castle. Out of the hundred men with me, only twenty had every seen a fight before. Even my sword mate, Honoiun, had yet to kill his first man."

My stomach turned as the familiar smells of the battlefield in my thoughts mingled with the essences of damp earth and wet stone. "None of us knew what we were getting into when we signed up." I closed my eyes, but it only intensified the images. Aron standing over a fallen spearman, hands and armor covered in the man's blood and the look of horror on his childish features. He had been too young. Only three years my junior, eager for his first battle, but he had not been prepared for the massacre of war. None of us had. I shook my head to rid myself of the ghost, but it would not leave.

"You should have seen their faces, Tourth." Iscarus' voice cracked.

"We didn't belong there." I looked down at my clenched fists. I held them out in rain, opening the fingers slowly. In my mind's eye, they still dripped red. I blinked. "Iscarus, none of us belonged there. If I had just put my foot down… If I had just said no and taken them the other way…" My hands shook.

"The battle of Catorna wasn't your fault."

He laid a comforting hand on my shoulder and I shrugged it off.

It was. Nothing had changed. Catorna was my fault. It had been in my power to change our course. I had seen the signs of ambush, and I had warned our commander. He had ignored me and called me a foolish country boy. My heart clenched and I gritted my teeth. If only I had said more, refused to continue, or done something, anything to avoid the ambush. Instead I had withdrawn, shamed into silence.

"I could have stopped it." I spat the words out with all the conviction I felt. "You are wrong, Iscarus. I could have saved all those men. I saw the signs and did nothing."

"Did you report them?"

"Of course, but that idiot of a commander ignored them. He kept marching us forward. He made Aron move to the front when I protested. Then Aron took the first arrow to the chest." I struggled to block out the sight, but I couldn't avoid it. The smell of shock and fear, the strange sensation of time standing still, and then the madness came, a fire burning within my chest, clouding my mind with anger, and then the blind obsession of revenge coursing through my limbs. "Do you know how many men I killed that day?" I asked as I pressed my slick palms to my eyes.

"No." Iscarus' voice was quiet and calm amidst the chaos in my head.

"Three hundred and seven." I forced myself to breathe, drawing air into my aching chest. I had to. I had no choice. "What is worse is that I wanted to do it. I looked into each of those men's eyes and exulted as the light of life faded." A sob broke from my throat, tearing away the scab that I had protected so jealously. "I wanted them to pay. Pay for killing Aron and the other boys, lads who would never know a future. Pay for being greedy and wanting more than their share. Pay for destroying so many lives." I laughed bitterly through my tears. "The irony is that I destroyed more futures in those hours than they."

"Did Svhen, Arthus, and Dardon know Aron?"

I shook my head, struggling to get my heart under control. "They were north of Catorna at the time of the massacre, loaned out to train with a different battalion the month before. In God's mercy, they missed Catorna."

"So you haven't talked to them about it?"

I laughed harshly. "I haven't spoken of it ever to anyone."

"Until now."

I nodded. Until now. "I will never understand why God let our commander live," I muttered. "Of all of us, he should have died."

"God had His reasons," Iscarus replied.

My heart rebelled slightly at the statement despite the fact I knew it was true. God always had a purpose, even for Catorna. That I could believe. That I was forgiven for those 307 lives that I took was another issue entirely. I was never going to be able to atone for them. "No one is beyond redemption, Tourth." Wren's words rang through my head. I didn't agree. I was beyond it, so far gone that there was no hope.

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

Wren Romany - © 2009 Rachel Rossano

Chapter XIII

Wren

When I returned to the castle yard after the noon meal, I caught some of our visitors in the midst of raising the repaired gate. Four men strained to hoist the solid wooden panel with a pulley system while three others guided it into place. Another man prepared to slide the hinge bolts home. I scanned the yard, looking for Tourth, but he was nowhere in sight. Lord Hiller stood near the smoke house, deep in conversation with his captain. I had passed Iscarus instructing the lumbering crew on which trees to fell on my way back.

"Better watch your back," Dardon said from behind me, announcing his arrival by dropping a large stone at my feet. Pushing sweat damp hair from his forehead, he grimaced at me. "Tourth still hasn't cooled down about last night."

I studied his face. "What makes you think that?"

"He asks after you every half hour like clockwork. Even Svhen is beginning to look nervous around him. What did you say to him?"

I shrugged. "Nothing that didn't need saying. Where is he now?" A line of ten men wound through the back gate. Each was burdened with a stone the same size as one at my feet. They looked like just the right size to repair the gap in the wall behind the stables.

Dardon ignored my question. Glancing quickly around the yard as he said, "The cook saved you some lunch in the kitchen. Where did you go all morning? There were bets among the men that you had disappeared because you were too afraid of Tourth to face him."

"Are they afraid of him?"

"Nah, he has just been a regular bear since he woke this morning. I think they aren't used to the idea of a woman standing up to a man."

I nodded. It was a concept that most men didn't understand. "So, where is he?"

"He is cleaning out the keep," Svhen offered, appearing at my elbow, smelling of smoke.

"Thank you, Svhen." I smiled up at him gratefully.

"He is in a rare mood," Svhen warned before continuing over toward Hiller and the captain.

"Not rare enough," Dardon pointed out as he lifted his load again. "Watch your back," he cautioned. Then, with a grunt, he started after the end of the line of men disappearing around the back corner of the stable.

I watched the new front gate settle on its hinges for the first time. Deus give me strength. Then I approached the main door of the keep.

Within the walls, the sunlight filtered through the burned out ceiling two stories above me. The crates of the night before had all been removed, revealing the smooth stones of a great hall. I paused inside the door to admire the newly recovered space. In my mind, I could now envision what it had looked like in all of its glory. The heavy timbered ceiling, seasoned with age, spanning the room easily seven times the size of the great room in my childhood home. The stone floor, worn into hollows with age, covered with a layer of sweet smelling rushes where Tourth, Kat, Philon, Hiller, Iscarus, and Warwick had played as children. The image of Tourth, lanky and carefree with youth abruptly faded from my thoughts when the Tourth of today approached me from the far end of the hall.

"Where were you all morning?" he demanded before he had even reached me. Dirt covered his face and dust tinted his clothing with gray highlights. "You invited these men into my home, gave them instructions to tear it apart, and then disappeared. The least you could have done was stayed and helped me sort them out this morning."

"I could hardly do that since I didn't know what order you wanted things done." I crossed my arms in front of me and studied his features. The anger of the night before, carefully controlled once again, lingered behind his mask. Only the fire in his eyes hinted at its presence. "Besides, I didn't instruct them to do anything. All of these projects were their own idea."

"I suppose they carry building tools and craftsmen everywhere they go while on the road." He stopped barely a foot in front of me, forcing me to look up at him as he glared down at me. "You told them we needed them."

"I mentioned that the keep needed work. Kat filled in the details."

"Still you mentioned it."

I met his glare with icy calm. He hadn't forgiven me. I was sorry to see it, but I cared too much for him and his family to back down now.

"I am leaving."

He blinked and looked aside, momentarily puzzled at my statement. However, he recovered quickly. "Running away?"

"No, studying the enemy. I am going to go assess the Enforcer and his position."

"You can't." His voice was flat, but his hands tensed into fists.

"I can and will. I am the best one for the job."

The anger flared, his gaze biting. "Because only you have the skills?"

"No." I calmly replied. "Because I am the only woman. If you or any of the men went, you would be pressed into labor. I can at least avoid that danger without effort."

"And what if he presses you into a different form of forced labor?" Worry edged his voice despite his efforts to hide it. I took hope in the crack in his façade. He cared despite his current feelings toward my actions. I grabbed onto that worry and reminded myself that he was hurting deeply, more deeply than even I could fully understand. Like a wounded animal afraid of hurting again, he was lashing out.

"I know how to take care of myself, Tourth," I said softly. "Don't worry about me."

Our gazes locked, and he knew that I was reading his face. His expression closed and he turned away.

"When will you be back?" he asked finally.

"Soon, a week at the latest." I studied the line of his stance. "Remember what I said last night. You need to speak to the Lord about what is consuming you before the poison is all that remains."

He stiffened. "Close the door on your way out."

I nodded. It was nothing less than what I expected, yet the coldness in his voice hurt a bit. Father, make him see. Break his pride and draw him to you. I turned away. Crossing the distance to the door, I continued to pray. I stole one last glimpse of his straight form among the patches of shadow and light in the center of the ruined hall. By the time I returned the roof would be repaired and the space useful again. I hoped desperately that the same would be true of Tourth.
~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tourth

She was so infuriating sure of herself. Certain that her assessment was correct. The overwhelming urge to throw something flooded through me again. I thought I had finally quenched it in moving all of the debris and crates out of the great hall, but one brief conversation with her had brought it back. I wanted yell with frustration. However, not even that release was open to me. One holler and forty plus men would come running. I ran my hands through my hair and groaned.

"Did Wren find you?" Hiller asked as he approached from direction of the stairs to the solar.

I grimaced at him. "Yes, she found me. She is leaving to check out the Enforcer."

He nodded. "Know the enemy. A wise move. So, what is the problem?"

I closed my eyes and ignored the question. "Are the new beams going to be long enough to reach across the roof?" I asked instead. I risked glancing at Hiller as he squinted up at the roof.

"Shouldn't be an issue. Svhen says that they should have enough wood prepared to start work on this in two days."

"Your men work fast."

"I should hope so. We have been re-beaming and thatching houses for months now." Catching my puzzled expression, he grimaced. "Raiders along the border take great delight in razing farm houses and barns. As fast as we rebuild them, they demolish them. Scouts say the men wear red and mustard paint on their faces."

"The colors of the Enforcer."

He nodded. "You aren't the only one who wants the man gone. So far we haven’t been able to connect the raiders to the Enforcer beyond their color choices, but it is only a matter of time. If we could get you reinstated as Lord Mynth, overseer of this valley, the Enforcer would have no reason to continue to support the raiders. Then we can remove their presence from our borders."

"And here I thought you were helping me purely on the basis of our fostering together."

Hiller laughed, a loud, uninhibited sound that bounced about the newly cleared hall. "Hardly. You gave me plenty of trouble during those years. I can hardly remember a time when you weren't planning some kind of mischief to get us involved in. I, also, seemed to recall more than a handful of scrapes where I got the rougher portion of the effort and not the reward."

"I can't help it that you were a strong lad," I protested. Memories of those lighter days slipped through and whittled a bit at my dark mood.

"Aye, but you were faster," he muttered with a smile.

"I had to be. If I had let you catch me, I would have never survived your wrath."

He laughed again. I managed a weak smile.

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

Wren

Brone shifted his weight beneath the full saddlebags. He sensed that we were leaving again, and he wasn't happy with the prospect. After a year and a half of wandering, staying less than a week in any one village, he and I had covered a great deal of ground. Now that we had lingered here for a few weeks, he seemed inclined to think that this was now our home.

I tightened the cinch on the saddle and frowned. I was beginning to think of it as home too. True my siblings weren't here. However, it felt right to be here. Even if I didn't truly belong to this group, I did believe I needed to defend what they had. Family was precious. I didn't have the opportunity to defend my own family, but I could do something to help this one stay together and safe.

"Going somewhere?"

I looked up to find Iscarus watching me. He stood at Brone's head, stroking the stallion's nose. With his hair awry and his clothing spattered with stone laying compound, he looked more like his brother Warwick than he probably would like to know. I fed the cinch strap through the loops that would keep it from dangling below Brone's belly and turned my attention to the stirrups.

"I am going to investigate the Enforcer's resources and activities on the other end of the valley."

Iscarus grunted. "Are you sure you aren't running away from Tourth?"

I snapped my face around to study his. "Why would I run away from him?"

He shrugged, a movement too precise to be unstudied.

Something was up. I dropped the stirrup and turned to face him. "Everyone seems to be very concerned about how Tourth and I are doing."

"You are the first girl I have known to stand up to him."

I crossed my arms over my chest. "And what is that supposed to mean?"

He smiled. "Tourth has always had a way of scaring off the women. I think it is the intense way he internalizes things. I just want to make sure he doesn't scare you off with all of his emoting."

I thought of Aiden and Arnan and laughed. "There is no chance of that." I claimed the reins and mounted. "Don't let him do anything foolish while I am gone."

He nodded. Stepping back to allow Brone space to move, he lifted a hand in salute. "Safe journey." Brone snorted a response and headed toward the newly hung gate.

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

Wren Romany - © 2009 Rachel Rossano

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