Chapter III

Wren

The sun was low in the west by the time we finally herded the last of the sheep into the rickety pen with the others. They were greeted with a chorus of bleats like victorious heroes. “So, who is going back to skin those lions?” I asked as Dardon slid the peg into the hole securing the gate. I was leaning over Brone’s shoulder with the sun to my back, but I saw the man’s hand pause for a slight second before he turned to squint up at me.

“I am not sure we will want to eat it. Have you ever eaten mountain lion before?”

I shrugged. “It is a tad on the tough side, but cooked right, it is passable to an empty stomach.”

Now Dardon was frowning. “I find it hard to believe you have eaten mountain lion.”

“I have eaten almost every kind of wild animal you could imagine.”

“I can imagine quite a few.”

Ah, here came the testing. “Try me,” I replied.

“Possum.”

“Roasted on a spit two springs back. I wouldn’t recommend trying to eat the tail, though. It had a nasty aftertaste.”

“Fox.”

I nodded. “Stringy, but I was desperate.”

He studied me for a few moments. I returned the favor, measuring him with my eyes. He would be a challenging opponent, with all that height, but I could use it against him if this took the form of typical male bonding, a face off. Since I left home, I found that men accepted me more quickly if they perceived me to be one of them, rough, physical, and direct. And in this situation, the sooner I was accepted into the group, the better. Dardon was as good a candidate as any of them and vastly superior to Svhen, who would most likely skin me alive. So, I began plotting out my strategy for the possible coming tussle.

“I don’t believe you. You might be an accurate shot, you had to be to make that first kill, but I don’t believe you have skinned, cooked, and eaten mountain lion before.”

I nodded, jutting my chin out slightly as I did. “Fine.” Turning Brone back toward the upper fields, I glanced over my shoulder. Dardon still stood next to the sheep fold watching me with confusion. “So, are you coming?”

“Coming where?”

I sighed. “To watch me skin our kills? If this coming winter is going to be as bad as I have heard predicted, we are going to need all the meat we can preserve.” I then turned and heeled Brone forward. As we trotted back up the trail, I listened without glancing back. Within moments, the sound of Dardon on Fireus rushing to catch up reached my ears. Thank you, Deus, I whispered.

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Tourth

Night dominated the night sky before Dardon and the newcomer appeared. I tried to watch for them without noticeably doing so. However, when Kat declared dinner was ready, I announced that I would go look for them. I prided myself on being a reasonable judge of character, but this Romany woman was not the typical character that I was used to. In fact, she defied any classification I had previously known.

Dardon was a grown man, a skilled warrior, and capable of handling himself against any man, let alone a woman half his size no matter what her skills were. I reminded myself again of this fact as I stepped out into the courtyard with my cloak in hand. That was as far as I got.

The silver glow of moonlight filled the courtyard showing the reason why the two of them had taken so long in returning. Four lioness pelts hung from the meat hooks imbedded in the outer walls of the smoke house. Dardon, loaded down with slabs of meat, ducked through the smokehouse doorway and disappeared. A moment later he appeared; Wren on his heels.

He spotted me across the courtyard. “Is dinner ready?” he called. “I am starved.”

I stepped aside. “Kat has stew simmering and yesterday’s bread on the table. If we don’t get in there soon, she is going to start threatening to start without us.”

“Kat’s stew changes quality from day to day,” he informed Wren companionably while gesturing that she should precede him through the door. “Her bread, however, is almost worth dying for.”

Wren smiled warmly back at him and shook her head, hanging back. “I am just going to finish settling Brone.”

“I can do that,” I offered. “Kat will be disappointed if she doesn’t see you two soon. She enjoys having new subjects to test things out on.”

She shook her head again. “Brone and I have a routine. If I don’t tend to him, he will keep your mounts up all night in revenge.”

“Then tell Kat that we will be right in,” I instructed Dardon. He shot me a searching look, but nodded his head.

“Any time increment I should mention?”

I looked over at Wren. “Minutes,” she answered.

Dardon nodded, and ducked past me and through the door. In silence, Wren and I turned toward the stable. We were halfway across the courtyard when I finally said, “You didn’t have to bring in the lion meat. I am not even sure I am going to be able to convince Kat that it is acceptable to eat.”

“A human can eat anything if they are hungry enough.”

“Do you speak from experience?”

“Unfortunately, yes, but that was long ago.”

The animals greeted us as we stepped into the darkness of the stable. I reached for the lantern I kept near the door, but she didn’t wait for light. By the time the wick caught, she was in Brone’s stall, brushing him down, whispering something in a strange tongue. Trader nickered from his stall, clearly jealous that I wasn’t paying attention to him. I crossed to rub his nose, giving Wren some space to complete her routine. Leaning over to lay my cheek against his, I drank in the horsey smell of his hide. He huffed and nuzzled my shoulder. Just as I was about to suggest that we finish and move toward dinner, a furious fluttering of wings startled me.

I raised my eyes from soothing Trader, to find myself being watched by a single golden eye. The bird perched on the half wall of the stall an arm length away as though he belonged there. His white feathers glowed with an unworldly hue in the golden light of the lantern. We examined each other. He kept switching from one eye to the other while I took in his hard, curved beak, perfect for tearing through the flesh of prey or foe. His talons, long, powerful, and deadly-looking bit into the soft wood beneath him. I was just beginning to wonder if I could risk moving when Wren spoke.

“I think she likes you.”

I didn’t dare drop the bird’s gaze. “How can you tell?”

“She hasn’t spoken yet.” Wren made a small kissing or clicking sound with her mouth and the white falcon’s head swiveled around to regard her. Then with a sudden rush of flapping, the falcon flew at the woman. My breath caught in my chest when for a moment I thought the falcon was attacking her. Then, the white falcon was perched on her shoulder regarding me regally, as though warning me not to come closer.

“I hope she doesn’t bother you,” she said, calmly reaching up to detach something from the bird’s leg. “I know I should have mentioned Iolani and the others to you before, but I didn’t know how their presence would be received.” She stroked Iolani’s white chest with the back of her finger. The bird curled her head and neck at an impossible angle to stroke her beak down Wren’s cheek. “I can make sure that they never come while I am within the walls if you would prefer.”

I shook my head. “No, I see no reason to ban them. As long as they don’t attack the horses or us, they can come and go as they please.”

Wren stoked the bird’s chest again, almost absentmindedly. “Thank you.” She smiled at me in a way that made her face blossom into something strangely wonderful. Then, as suddenly as it was there, it was gone. “Go on, Iolani.” She whispered something softly and then made a sound in the back of her throat. The bird bobbed its head, hopped from her shoulder to the half wall and then flew out the open door.

“I guess I should ask how many of those do you keep?”

“I don’t keep them actually, but if they are all in one place, they number seven.” She tucked away the small cylinder that she had taken from the bird’s leg and looked to me expectantly. “You said something about dinner.”

I nodded, mentally noting to warn Dardon and Svhen to not harass her. Any woman who was on such friendly terms with seven falcons was a woman treat with great respect or one might find oneself missing an eye or two. I ushered her back toward our sleeping quarters, wondering what kind of person I had just allowed into our midst.

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Wren

Dinner was good. The slightly undercooked vegetables in the stew ruined the texture, but the bread, as Dardon predicted melted in your mouth. Thankfully, I was hungry enough to finish my portion with speed, earning me a pleasant smile from the lady of the house. For a lady was what Katherine was.

Despite her humble clothing and familiar regard for the men and her brother, Tourth and the men made it clear from their behavior that she was someone to be coddled, protected, and tolerated. Arthus, though obviously uncomfortable with the treatment, obediently lounged close to the fire and drank copious amounts of an herbal tea Katherine insisted would help him heal. Though he frequently only replied to some of Tourth’s queries with a barely civilized grunt, Svhen always answered Katherine’s questions. Dardon, however, did not show as much deference to her. He teased, prodded, and cajoled her with the obvious intent of getting her to laugh.

As I watched, I wondered what it would be like to be in her position. My brothers had been wonderful brothers, but once I stepped beyond my family, I had never once had anyone treat me as these men treated her. Perhaps it was because I wasn’t exactly what they would think of as a lady. I wore leggings, could skin a mountain lion, and had seven falcons at my command. They were hardly ladylike accomplishments. I shifted in my seat. However, as I considered her position, I realized I was content in mine. I wouldn’t trade any of my skills for hers, despite the usefulness of being able to bake such delicious bread. Deus had made me this way. He had given me the skills I needed to survive knowing that I would need them. I set down my mug on the nearby table and turned my attention to the rest of the room as Katherine laughed at Dardon’s comment.

“So, what are the tasks for tomorrow,” Arthus asked.

Tourth leaned back in his chair and frowned. “We can’t take the sheep back to that pasture tomorrow, they will be too disturbed.”

“How about the western fields?” Arthus looked eager to be moving even tonight. “I could take them that way in the morning.”

“You will do no such thing,” Katherine protested. “You need to rest and heal.”

“It was only a scratch, Kat.” Arthus sat up and threw off the blankets over his legs to demonstrate. “It isn’t as though the cat crippled me. Let me take shepherding duty tomorrow, Tourth. I will make sure that they eat well.”

“What about the eastern fields by the traders’ road?” I asked.

Katherine, Arthus, and Dardon turned to look at me. Svhen continued witling away at the block of wood in his hand without pause. “If we pastured the animals there, the Orac’s enforcer would see them,” Tourth replied.

“Orac doesn’t know that Tourth and I are still alive,” Katherine offered.

“And if he did, he would either force Tourth to attend court or have him killed.” Arthus gestured to Dardon, Svhen, and himself. “We are the only reason he is alive right now as it is.”

“Why would he want him killed?” I scanned their faces.

“Because I will not attend him at court as my father’s title would require and I refuse to tax my tenants when Orac’s enforcer is already demanding five days work every fortnight from every able bodied male over fifteen. They are building his monstrosity of a castle. You might have seen it at the other end of the valley.”

I shook my head. I had missed it, but I was certainly going to go looking for it later.

“The people are already starving,” Katherine added. She shook her apron out violently. “This winter is going to be even harder than last because the harvest has been meager.”

Tourth nodded. “I should have been clearer about our bargain, but between now and the next rain, we will be completely concerned with working our neighbors’ fields. Many of the women and children have been working all year to have a crop at all. However, they will not be able to get the crop in without our assistance.”

I nodded. “I will earn my keep as you wish me to.”

“I would say you have already earned yourself a month’s worth of keep with that meat.”

“What meat?” Katherine asked, pausing in her folding of Arthus’ quilts.

“Not to mention the mutton,” Dardon pointed out with a sly glance at Katherine and a wink to me.

“What meat?” Katherine’s voice rose.

“It should keep us for a few weeks at the least this winter. And you,” Tourth gestured toward Arthus, “should need to hunt as much.”

“Tourth, what meat are you talking about?”

Turning an innocent face to Katherine, Dardon finally answered her. “Why the lion meat in the smoke house. I would start looking through your recipe books for a couple of ways to fix it because we are going to be eating a lot of it this winter. Four lions worth is quite enough.”

“Lion meat?” Katherine’s face blanched.

“How would you recommend it be served, Miz Romany?”

I couldn’t help the smile that pulled at my mouth. “I prefer it rubbed in garlic, oil, and onion and roasted over an open fire outdoors. The fresh air adds something to the taste.”

“Tourth, I am not going to prepare lion meat. I wouldn’t know how. And, I refuse to eat it. It sounds disgusting.”

“Then Miz Romany can prepare it,” Tourth replied. “She seems to know how.”

Taking pity on Katherine, I smiled. “I would be happy to show you how, My Lady.”

“Call me Kat,” Katherine replied out of habit.

“Then I am Wren,” I replied.

She sighed. “Have you really eaten mountain lion before?”

I nodded. “It isn’t too bad. It is wilder than venison, but it is filling enough.”

She didn’t look convinced, but she smiled anyway. “Then I would be happy to learn how to prepare it.”

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Wren Romany - © 2009 Rachel Rossano