Chapter II
Tourth
The stinging smell of the brine made me grimace as I hung the last haunch of boar on the rack in the smoke house. As much as I was thankful for the previous morning’s kill, I hated the job of preparing the meat for smoking. The brine was from a recipe that Kat, my sister, had found in the remnants of the library and it smelled. The scent of the spices in moderation would have been pleasant, but mixed in concentrated form for the meat to soak in, they were overwhelming. I was grateful that it would be months before I would have to work past the smell to gag down the meat.
Leaving the haunch to drip before I began the fires, I walked out into the crisp mid-morning air. That morning’s kill, a well fed buck, hung from the tree in the barren courtyard. Ignoring it, I took a deep breath of cool autumn air and let it out slowly. The bright sunlight warmed my face and shoulders as birds called to each other from the vines climbing the side of the ruined keep. If I closed my eyes and beheld my surroundings without my vision, that the winter wasn’t coming, the keep towered strong and tall above me and…
“Hello there.”
I opened my eyes and turned to find the source of the voice. Once I located her, I frowned.
Despite the masculine leather jerkin and leggings, I was certain of her gender. Perhaps it was her diminutive height or the long, thick braid of rich brown hair that fell gracefully over her left shoulder, either way, there was no way I could have mistaken her for a boy. However, the comfortable way that her hand rested lightly on the well-worn hilt of the throwing knife at her waist and her ready stance, I could see that she wasn’t one to be taken lightly. This woman knew her way around a knife and I didn’t need to see her throw it to know where it would land.
“I seek Lord Mynth’s son,” she offered as her horse nudged the back of her left shoulder. “Do you know where I might find him?”
“It matters the reason that you are seeking him.” I met her gaze. The dark brown of her eyes studied my face for a few moments as I returned the favor. She wasn’t classically beautiful, but there was something attractive about her even features and honest, open face.
“Old Alec sent me here. He said that Mynth’s son might be interested in my help this winter.”
“What kind of help would that be?”
“I can track in almost any kind of weather and rarely lose the prey. I have lived through the winter on my hunting skills alone, and I know my way around horses. Give me a task and I will work at it until I do it well.”
Judging from her confident stance, the way her hand never left the hilt of her knife, and the weathered look to her gear, I was inclined to believe her. Her face showed no signs of hunger; signs I knew well from last winter. Kat’s face still was leaner than it had been when father was alive.
“And what do you ask for in return?” I asked. “As you can see, we have little to exchange.” My gesture included the obviously ruined keep, the crumbling outer wall, and the weed-clogged courtyard.
“A roof over my head, a warm fire, feed and stabling for Brone, and a share in the kill,” she replied. The horse, recognizing its name, blew in her ear and then eyed me placidly.
It was a small price for her services, should they prove to be as good as she said. I willingly agreed. Extending my hand, I offered my name. “Tourth Mynth of Iselyn, at least what is left of her.”
“Wren Romany of Braedoch.” Her grip was firm. The rough calluses on her fingers reassured me that I had made the right decision.
“Come, I will show you where to stable your horse.” I led the way past the keep to the far side of the courtyard. It was a miracle that the stable survived the fire, but I was daily thankful that it had. The cool musty darkness greeted us at the door. By the flecked-sunlight filtering in through the open windows, I led her to the farthest stall. “I would offer one closer to the door, but Trader, my stallion, has a tendency toward orneriness. Your mount will be safer here.”
“And warmer,” she observed with a nod.
“When you have finished, I will show you the rest of our little kingdom. I will be in the smoke house.”
She nodded and I left her to her work.
The moment I stepped out into the sunlight, Svhen rode into the courtyard in a deafening clatter of horse hooves. “Lions…in the northern meadow. We can’t hold them off.”
My chest constricted. Kat was out there with them.
“Where?”
I turned to find Wren had come to the stable door and was already leading her horse out into the open. I knew I would lose valuable time just in running for my bow and quiver; so, when Svhen opened his mouth to question her presence, I didn’t wait for him to start. “Tell her, Svhen, and then wait for me,” I ordered, already ducking into the stable for my weapons. Thankfully, Svhen obeyed.
“Out the back gate and straight up the mountain,” he informed her, in a brusque tone. “You can’t miss the trail.”
A cacophony of noise signaled her departure as my hand closed on the smooth wood of my bow. Whipping the quiver from the wall, I ran back out into the sunshine.
“Who was that?” Svhen demanded as he brought his mount close and offered me a hand up.
“A new friend,” I responded as I grasped his wrist and jumped on behind him. We were in motion before I had a chance to settle into place. My thoughts filled with my sister. Dardon and Arthus could handle themselves when defending the herd. Kat, on the other hand, was only a liability, another precious thing to defend in a situation like this. I shouldn’t have let her go.
We cleared the back gate to find Wren nowhere in sight. “I hope she took the right trail,” I muttered as Svhen heeled the mare into a gallop.
“I wanted to send Kat for help, but she was nowhere near a mount and then the horses scattered in panic. I only just caught Jayden before she spooked. I am sorry, Tourth. If something happened to her, I…”
Fear gripped my chest. “I understand, Svhen. Just pray that we are not too late.”
Jayden pounded along the trail. Both of us held our breath in fear of what we would find as we crested the last rise.
There was so much blood that we feared the worst. Riding down into the field, I searched the area for Kat’s golden hair. When my eyes finally fell on her slender form bent over something on the ground, the tension in my chest relaxed marginally. She was alive.
The sheep were huddled in a small group under a nearby tree, bleating pitifully while the sheepdog kept the stragglers from wandering. At first glance, I could see we had lost half the flock. Four lion carcasses lay in the tall grass, staining the ground red. The nearest had died instantly, an arrow lodged beneath its front leg and buried to the feather in the animal’s heart. Dardon was leaning over a small wool-covered body. He rose to greet us as we approached. “You are late.”
Svhen pulled Jayden up to a rough stop a few feet from him. “What happened?” I asked as I slid to the ground.
“There was no warning. A pride of six lioness’ attacked. Arthus was injured and Kat took up a defensive position over him when the sheep scattered. I managed to injure one lioness, but then two of them decided to go after the horses and disappeared. Svhen went for help while Kat and I tried to hold off the rest. I gave up on the sheep and tried to help Kat, but we were overwhelmed. Just when I thought all was lost though, this rider came out of no where. He killed the first lioness,” he pointed to the closest one, “with one shot, and then he drew the other one away from us before finishing it off with another arrow.”
“Where is she now?” I asked.
Dardon shrugged. “He said something about going after the horses. It is a useless chase. You know how Trader gets when he is spooked. Even if he does find them, I doubt he can catch them.”
Normally I would have agreed with him, but I was quickly beginning to believe that Wren had understated her abilities.
“Is Arthus alright?”
“He will live. It was just a swipe at his right shoulder. Kat is with him.” He motioned to where Svhen was already helping Arthus to his feet. Kat hovered over him like a mother.
As we approached, she was chiding Svhen for going too fast for Arthus.
“It is just a scrape, Kat,” Arthus growled.
“Yeah, give the man some room, girl. He can walk. The cat didn’t get his legs.”
“But he lost a lot of blood,” she protested as she impatiently flicked her braid over her shoulder. Strands of golden hair kept falling forward. Oblivious of the loss of all her hair pins, her dark brown eyes glared at Svhen’s departing back. “You are not planning on making him ride back, are you?”
“What do you expect me to do,” Svhen snapped. “He isn’t exactly in the best condition to walk back and if you think I am going to haul his sorry butt back to the keep just because you want me too, you are delusional.”
“He is injured,” Kat protested. Svhen grunted sullenly and proceeded to assist Arthus onto Jayden. Turning to me with a pleading look in her eyes, she repeated, “He is injured, Tourth. Shouldn’t we be more careful with him?”
I smiled. “He has been in a lot worse condition before. Let Svhen take care of him. Once we get back, you can mother him all you want.” Tucking a strand of silken gold behind her ear, I bent to kiss her forehead. “I take it the cat did not manage to get your tongue. Are you alright otherwise?” She nodded with a distracted frown. “Thanks to that stranger. I thought for sure I was a dead woman when she showed up.”
“She?” Dardon frowned. “It was a man.”
“No, a woman in man’s clothing.” Kat’s lips tightened and her hands went to her hips.
“I think I would know a woman if I saw one,” Dardon protested.
“I am the female here and she was a woman.”
Seeing that this could become another of their famous rows, I decided to put a stop to it. “I am sorry Dardon, but it was a woman.”
Dardon turned to glare at me. “You always take her side.”
“Oh, hush it, Dardon and see for yourself,” Kat replied. Pulling on his arm, she pointed to an approaching rider.
I couldn’t help the laugh that burst from me at Dardon’s face. Wren had returned, sitting on her brown stallion leading the two runaway horses that he had proclaimed impossible.
“I assume that these are yours. There were only stalls made up for three horses in the stable.”
“Yes, they are the runaways,” I answered while Dardon sputtered and Kat looked overly pleased with herself.
Wren calmly looked us over as though she was oblivious to expressions on my companions’ faces. However, when she met my eyes, there was a hint of amusement in her yellow gaze. “I spotted some wandering sheep when I was coming back with these two. Would you like me to begin herding them back?”
I nodded. “Dardon will help you. I should bring Kat back to tend to Arthus’ or she will have my hide.” I crossed to claim Trader’s leads.
“But who will watch the sheep while they gather the others?” Kat asked.
“We will drive them back to the fold. They are so rattled that I doubt they will do much feeding the rest of the day.”
Dardon approached and claimed his horse, Fireus, from Wren. As I mounted and Kat moved away to begin moving the sheep down the mountain, I couldn’t help calling back to Dardon, “Be nice, Dardon. She is a lady.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Wren
I couldn’t make much sense of Tourth’s comment to Dardon, but I was too concerned about it. I had obviously interrupted a conversation about me and I guessed it had something to do with my perceived gender. Besides sending a dark look over his shoulder at Tourth's retreating back, Dardon ignored the comment as well.
Finding the strays was easy work. First of all, they hadn’t wandered far and secondly, many of them were bleating for help. Silently we worked to free three from thickets and one from a crag where it had fallen and couldn’t climb out. A few were huddled under a tree and one had managed to get itself stuck in a thorn bush. Between watching for signs of more lions and trapped sheep, I found myself studying my companion.
Dardon was as dark as his name suggested. Olive skin, black hair, and dark eyes, his face bore more scars than most seasoned warriors I had met. Despite his size, a good half a foot taller than me, and bulk he carried himself well. If I were to venture a guess, I place him as a veteran of the civil war only a handful of years in the past. Despite the crust, I suspected he was about Tourth’s age, mid to late thirties, and that would explain his being here, in a lonely derelict fortress serving a titleless noble. In fact, that would explain most of the men’s presence.
Svhen, with his fair complexion and accented speech, was not from anyplace I had visited before. I had heard word of fair skinned warriors from further west who sometimes hired themselves out to fight in foreign wars. I had not gotten a good look at Arthus, but I would not be surprised if he also had a past with the military. It would explain their relationship with Tourth. The young woman, however, still remained a mystery to me. How she ended up with this group of men was something I had yet to figure out.
“Where do you harken from?” I looked up to find Dardon watching me warily.
“I was born in the east, if that is what you are wondering,” I replied.
“What brought you here?”
Ah, so this was going to be one of those conversations. I leaned back in my saddle and frowned. “I needed roof and a fire for the winter. Tourth agreed to let me stay in exchange for my help with the hunting.”
Dardon grunted and then fell silent. It was going to take time to get him to accept me; that was clear. What I needed to find out which bothered him more: the fact I was a stranger, or my unusual behavior for my gender. Then I would know how to go about winning his trust. For now I would assume both and work from there.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Wren Romany - © 2006 Rachel Rossano
The stinging smell of the brine made me grimace as I hung the last haunch of boar on the rack in the smoke house. As much as I was thankful for the previous morning’s kill, I hated the job of preparing the meat for smoking. The brine was from a recipe that Kat, my sister, had found in the remnants of the library and it smelled. The scent of the spices in moderation would have been pleasant, but mixed in concentrated form for the meat to soak in, they were overwhelming. I was grateful that it would be months before I would have to work past the smell to gag down the meat.
Leaving the haunch to drip before I began the fires, I walked out into the crisp mid-morning air. That morning’s kill, a well fed buck, hung from the tree in the barren courtyard. Ignoring it, I took a deep breath of cool autumn air and let it out slowly. The bright sunlight warmed my face and shoulders as birds called to each other from the vines climbing the side of the ruined keep. If I closed my eyes and beheld my surroundings without my vision, that the winter wasn’t coming, the keep towered strong and tall above me and…
“Hello there.”
I opened my eyes and turned to find the source of the voice. Once I located her, I frowned.
Despite the masculine leather jerkin and leggings, I was certain of her gender. Perhaps it was her diminutive height or the long, thick braid of rich brown hair that fell gracefully over her left shoulder, either way, there was no way I could have mistaken her for a boy. However, the comfortable way that her hand rested lightly on the well-worn hilt of the throwing knife at her waist and her ready stance, I could see that she wasn’t one to be taken lightly. This woman knew her way around a knife and I didn’t need to see her throw it to know where it would land.
“I seek Lord Mynth’s son,” she offered as her horse nudged the back of her left shoulder. “Do you know where I might find him?”
“It matters the reason that you are seeking him.” I met her gaze. The dark brown of her eyes studied my face for a few moments as I returned the favor. She wasn’t classically beautiful, but there was something attractive about her even features and honest, open face.
“Old Alec sent me here. He said that Mynth’s son might be interested in my help this winter.”
“What kind of help would that be?”
“I can track in almost any kind of weather and rarely lose the prey. I have lived through the winter on my hunting skills alone, and I know my way around horses. Give me a task and I will work at it until I do it well.”
Judging from her confident stance, the way her hand never left the hilt of her knife, and the weathered look to her gear, I was inclined to believe her. Her face showed no signs of hunger; signs I knew well from last winter. Kat’s face still was leaner than it had been when father was alive.
“And what do you ask for in return?” I asked. “As you can see, we have little to exchange.” My gesture included the obviously ruined keep, the crumbling outer wall, and the weed-clogged courtyard.
“A roof over my head, a warm fire, feed and stabling for Brone, and a share in the kill,” she replied. The horse, recognizing its name, blew in her ear and then eyed me placidly.
It was a small price for her services, should they prove to be as good as she said. I willingly agreed. Extending my hand, I offered my name. “Tourth Mynth of Iselyn, at least what is left of her.”
“Wren Romany of Braedoch.” Her grip was firm. The rough calluses on her fingers reassured me that I had made the right decision.
“Come, I will show you where to stable your horse.” I led the way past the keep to the far side of the courtyard. It was a miracle that the stable survived the fire, but I was daily thankful that it had. The cool musty darkness greeted us at the door. By the flecked-sunlight filtering in through the open windows, I led her to the farthest stall. “I would offer one closer to the door, but Trader, my stallion, has a tendency toward orneriness. Your mount will be safer here.”
“And warmer,” she observed with a nod.
“When you have finished, I will show you the rest of our little kingdom. I will be in the smoke house.”
She nodded and I left her to her work.
The moment I stepped out into the sunlight, Svhen rode into the courtyard in a deafening clatter of horse hooves. “Lions…in the northern meadow. We can’t hold them off.”
My chest constricted. Kat was out there with them.
“Where?”
I turned to find Wren had come to the stable door and was already leading her horse out into the open. I knew I would lose valuable time just in running for my bow and quiver; so, when Svhen opened his mouth to question her presence, I didn’t wait for him to start. “Tell her, Svhen, and then wait for me,” I ordered, already ducking into the stable for my weapons. Thankfully, Svhen obeyed.
“Out the back gate and straight up the mountain,” he informed her, in a brusque tone. “You can’t miss the trail.”
A cacophony of noise signaled her departure as my hand closed on the smooth wood of my bow. Whipping the quiver from the wall, I ran back out into the sunshine.
“Who was that?” Svhen demanded as he brought his mount close and offered me a hand up.
“A new friend,” I responded as I grasped his wrist and jumped on behind him. We were in motion before I had a chance to settle into place. My thoughts filled with my sister. Dardon and Arthus could handle themselves when defending the herd. Kat, on the other hand, was only a liability, another precious thing to defend in a situation like this. I shouldn’t have let her go.
We cleared the back gate to find Wren nowhere in sight. “I hope she took the right trail,” I muttered as Svhen heeled the mare into a gallop.
“I wanted to send Kat for help, but she was nowhere near a mount and then the horses scattered in panic. I only just caught Jayden before she spooked. I am sorry, Tourth. If something happened to her, I…”
Fear gripped my chest. “I understand, Svhen. Just pray that we are not too late.”
Jayden pounded along the trail. Both of us held our breath in fear of what we would find as we crested the last rise.
There was so much blood that we feared the worst. Riding down into the field, I searched the area for Kat’s golden hair. When my eyes finally fell on her slender form bent over something on the ground, the tension in my chest relaxed marginally. She was alive.
The sheep were huddled in a small group under a nearby tree, bleating pitifully while the sheepdog kept the stragglers from wandering. At first glance, I could see we had lost half the flock. Four lion carcasses lay in the tall grass, staining the ground red. The nearest had died instantly, an arrow lodged beneath its front leg and buried to the feather in the animal’s heart. Dardon was leaning over a small wool-covered body. He rose to greet us as we approached. “You are late.”
Svhen pulled Jayden up to a rough stop a few feet from him. “What happened?” I asked as I slid to the ground.
“There was no warning. A pride of six lioness’ attacked. Arthus was injured and Kat took up a defensive position over him when the sheep scattered. I managed to injure one lioness, but then two of them decided to go after the horses and disappeared. Svhen went for help while Kat and I tried to hold off the rest. I gave up on the sheep and tried to help Kat, but we were overwhelmed. Just when I thought all was lost though, this rider came out of no where. He killed the first lioness,” he pointed to the closest one, “with one shot, and then he drew the other one away from us before finishing it off with another arrow.”
“Where is she now?” I asked.
Dardon shrugged. “He said something about going after the horses. It is a useless chase. You know how Trader gets when he is spooked. Even if he does find them, I doubt he can catch them.”
Normally I would have agreed with him, but I was quickly beginning to believe that Wren had understated her abilities.
“Is Arthus alright?”
“He will live. It was just a swipe at his right shoulder. Kat is with him.” He motioned to where Svhen was already helping Arthus to his feet. Kat hovered over him like a mother.
As we approached, she was chiding Svhen for going too fast for Arthus.
“It is just a scrape, Kat,” Arthus growled.
“Yeah, give the man some room, girl. He can walk. The cat didn’t get his legs.”
“But he lost a lot of blood,” she protested as she impatiently flicked her braid over her shoulder. Strands of golden hair kept falling forward. Oblivious of the loss of all her hair pins, her dark brown eyes glared at Svhen’s departing back. “You are not planning on making him ride back, are you?”
“What do you expect me to do,” Svhen snapped. “He isn’t exactly in the best condition to walk back and if you think I am going to haul his sorry butt back to the keep just because you want me too, you are delusional.”
“He is injured,” Kat protested. Svhen grunted sullenly and proceeded to assist Arthus onto Jayden. Turning to me with a pleading look in her eyes, she repeated, “He is injured, Tourth. Shouldn’t we be more careful with him?”
I smiled. “He has been in a lot worse condition before. Let Svhen take care of him. Once we get back, you can mother him all you want.” Tucking a strand of silken gold behind her ear, I bent to kiss her forehead. “I take it the cat did not manage to get your tongue. Are you alright otherwise?” She nodded with a distracted frown. “Thanks to that stranger. I thought for sure I was a dead woman when she showed up.”
“She?” Dardon frowned. “It was a man.”
“No, a woman in man’s clothing.” Kat’s lips tightened and her hands went to her hips.
“I think I would know a woman if I saw one,” Dardon protested.
“I am the female here and she was a woman.”
Seeing that this could become another of their famous rows, I decided to put a stop to it. “I am sorry Dardon, but it was a woman.”
Dardon turned to glare at me. “You always take her side.”
“Oh, hush it, Dardon and see for yourself,” Kat replied. Pulling on his arm, she pointed to an approaching rider.
I couldn’t help the laugh that burst from me at Dardon’s face. Wren had returned, sitting on her brown stallion leading the two runaway horses that he had proclaimed impossible.
“I assume that these are yours. There were only stalls made up for three horses in the stable.”
“Yes, they are the runaways,” I answered while Dardon sputtered and Kat looked overly pleased with herself.
Wren calmly looked us over as though she was oblivious to expressions on my companions’ faces. However, when she met my eyes, there was a hint of amusement in her yellow gaze. “I spotted some wandering sheep when I was coming back with these two. Would you like me to begin herding them back?”
I nodded. “Dardon will help you. I should bring Kat back to tend to Arthus’ or she will have my hide.” I crossed to claim Trader’s leads.
“But who will watch the sheep while they gather the others?” Kat asked.
“We will drive them back to the fold. They are so rattled that I doubt they will do much feeding the rest of the day.”
Dardon approached and claimed his horse, Fireus, from Wren. As I mounted and Kat moved away to begin moving the sheep down the mountain, I couldn’t help calling back to Dardon, “Be nice, Dardon. She is a lady.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Wren
I couldn’t make much sense of Tourth’s comment to Dardon, but I was too concerned about it. I had obviously interrupted a conversation about me and I guessed it had something to do with my perceived gender. Besides sending a dark look over his shoulder at Tourth's retreating back, Dardon ignored the comment as well.
Finding the strays was easy work. First of all, they hadn’t wandered far and secondly, many of them were bleating for help. Silently we worked to free three from thickets and one from a crag where it had fallen and couldn’t climb out. A few were huddled under a tree and one had managed to get itself stuck in a thorn bush. Between watching for signs of more lions and trapped sheep, I found myself studying my companion.
Dardon was as dark as his name suggested. Olive skin, black hair, and dark eyes, his face bore more scars than most seasoned warriors I had met. Despite his size, a good half a foot taller than me, and bulk he carried himself well. If I were to venture a guess, I place him as a veteran of the civil war only a handful of years in the past. Despite the crust, I suspected he was about Tourth’s age, mid to late thirties, and that would explain his being here, in a lonely derelict fortress serving a titleless noble. In fact, that would explain most of the men’s presence.
Svhen, with his fair complexion and accented speech, was not from anyplace I had visited before. I had heard word of fair skinned warriors from further west who sometimes hired themselves out to fight in foreign wars. I had not gotten a good look at Arthus, but I would not be surprised if he also had a past with the military. It would explain their relationship with Tourth. The young woman, however, still remained a mystery to me. How she ended up with this group of men was something I had yet to figure out.
“Where do you harken from?” I looked up to find Dardon watching me warily.
“I was born in the east, if that is what you are wondering,” I replied.
“What brought you here?”
Ah, so this was going to be one of those conversations. I leaned back in my saddle and frowned. “I needed roof and a fire for the winter. Tourth agreed to let me stay in exchange for my help with the hunting.”
Dardon grunted and then fell silent. It was going to take time to get him to accept me; that was clear. What I needed to find out which bothered him more: the fact I was a stranger, or my unusual behavior for my gender. Then I would know how to go about winning his trust. For now I would assume both and work from there.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Wren Romany - © 2006 Rachel Rossano
posted by Rachel Rossano at 2:03 PM
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