Daughter Of The Wind --Western Wind

by Sandra Elsa

  Pink still woke early in the morning for weapons’ practice. It never ceased to amaze her how much Conall knew about how to handle weapons.

  When she questioned him about it he laughed it off, saying, “When you’ve had as many weapons pointed at you as I have, you become expert in knowing how they are used, uncountable years have brought many enemies my way.”

  After her workout she soaked her hair in the walnut dye and ended up with dark bronze tresses. It hadn’t totally concealed the copper tinge but it was much darker than it had been.

  As soon as breakfast was finished, and Conall’s portion set out for him, they packed everything and started once again towards Relante. That morning instead of the usual magic lessons Johann taught Pink the history of Ronan and Telgar.

  He reasoned that only a slave would be nearly seventeen years old and have such limited knowledge of their country and its history. If they were to convince people she was not now, nor had ever been, a slave, she needed to be able to converse on the level of even the highborn.

  She didn’t believe many of the farmers would have a much less limited knowledge of the world, as most of them led fairly reclusive lives, but she had to admit that they were not bound for a farm. They were headed for Relante, the largest city in Ronan. She was always willing to learn anything she could absorb anyway.

  As they walked Johann instructed her on the war torn history of Ronan and its neighbor to the north.

  “About two hundred years ago, there was a particularly long winter in Telgar. Some people were afraid that it would not end. The snow in May was still piled nearly three feet high and in mid winter it covered houses.”

  Johann went on to tell of seasons of poor crops, starving multitudes, and poor planning by Telgar's rulers. Resulting in requests for aid from Ronan. Ronan had already sold its surplus food to other northern countries and had nothing left to offer.

  Johann coughed from the dust kicked up by Angel’s feet and Pink handed him the water skin. After slaking his thirst, he continued. “Telgar withdrew its negotiators, and suddenly many of the caravans carrying food were attacked. Caralon sent out troops with the caravans, and things quickly escalated to full units having armed skirmishes.”

  Johann searched the forest around them. Pink suspected he was searching for Conall, who she felt hovering close by, as absorbed by the history lesson as Pink was. Even Angel was attentive.

  “Wizards were brought into the conflict.” Johann continued, “While his unit was riding guard on a caravan, Caralon’s youngest son Connor disappeared, along with the rest of his unit and the caravan they were guarding. Most believed Dorang to be to blame, but none had proof. Telgar denied having anything to do with it. Ronan stopped sending supplies by that route but the damage had been done. Caralon’s queen was heavy with child and word of Connor’s loss caused emotional stress that created problems with the pregnancy. She died despite the best efforts of the King’s Healers.”

  “Rumors abounded throughout the country. Some claimed she ran off and left Caralon. Others said she’d been stolen away by magic. Most believed what the palace put out, that she died in premature labor. The one thing that was certain was that both Connor and his mother were gone. In spite of Telgar’s protests of innocence, in his grief, Caralon declared war.”

  Pink stopped him with a question. “Why was there ever any doubt as to what happened? Wouldn’t there have been a public funeral for a queen?”

  “Normally there would have been. I know only what the history books tell me. In his anguish at the loss of both son and wife, the histories claim Caralon privately cremated his wife’s body, giving rise to all the rumors.”

  Pink nodded and Johann continued the history lesson. He spoke of the rise of one despotic ruler after another, all bent on conquest and all exhibiting some signs of insanity. One Telgarn ruler in the past two hundred years had been a worthy ruler, and he had been raised by his mother, away from his sire’s influence. Telgar repeatedly and senselessly attacked its neighbors, to no good end.

  Rummaging through the packs as they walked, Pink pulled out some jerky and handed some to Johann then stooped down and placed some on a rock and sent the thought to Conall that it was there.

  Johann continued. He turned away from the history between the two countries and began recounting the history of Ronan’s monarchy.

  He had been talking for quite some time when Pink felt a touch from Conall, “Company’s coming, it’s the same two people that passed last night.”

  She interrupted Johann and they got off the road. He made her obscure their tracks through magic, but he swept behind her to be certain the job was thorough. They hid in the trees beside the road and waited for the two men to pass by. The strangers kept their eyes to the ground, casting about for tracks, but they continued up the road to the north without even a pause where Pink, Johann, and Angel had left it.

  From where she lay concealed in the undergrowth Pink had a good view of the road. She recognized the man Angel had been watching at the show in Collton. Judging by the amount of material his partner wore in his shirt, tunic and cloak, he was a well to do merchant. This reinforced her belief that the cause of this problem was once again Garec.

  They remained where they were until after Conall gave the all clear. They started back down the road, history lesson forgotten. “There are many other things you will need to know to fit in the higher circles in Relante,” Johann said, startling Pink.

  She hadn’t known he thought she would be fitting in the higher circles of Relante. “What are you talking about?”

  “You don’t want to be a peasant or a beggar, and if Garec has sent your description this far east, you will want to avoid the merchant sectors. That leaves being a servant where you may run into familiar faces that visited Hallowisp, joining the army, or trying to blend with the highborns.”

  She hadn’t given what she’d do when they arrived in Relante a moment’s thought, since her dreams from when she ran away. “I once thought of setting up a market stall selling herbs but you’re right. I think I want to avoid the marketplace. And Mistress Henna did entertain nobles from Relante. Working as a servant could be risky.” She turned the possibilities over in her mind.

  “I plan to search for Trace, amongst the army,” Johann said. “But it would be better for you if you could convince the highborns you were one of them, fallen on hard times. Hopefully some of my friends will still be in positions where they can help you on your way.”

  Pink did not agree with him. “But that puts me in the same group of people I could possibly run into as a servant, only more noticeable. As a servant people are rarely noticed.” Nor did she see herself in any way cut out to be a noble.

  They camped early and Johann endeavored to teach her the finer points of living in and around the Court. He had kept up with the outside world even in the secluded village where they first met. He schooled her on the current royal family. “The King is of course Lorth, even as a slave you would know that. He has four sons—the eldest, Dradin, is illegitimate and has not been seen since he married over four years ago. The eldest legitimate son is Lorun, the middle Torel and the youngest Colin.”

  Sadness etched lines in Johann’s face. “If the soldier you healed is to be believed, Lorun may still be alive. That will be joyous news in Relante. In either case, whether he was captured or killed, it was a grave loss for Ronan. Lorun was showing promise of being a wise leader to follow in his father’s footsteps.”

  The grim look eased a bit. “Torel will come along but he looked more to the military. His older brother was the heir so Torel rarely felt the urge to pay attention to politics. With two older brothers Colin concentrated on little besides where the next party was. Certainly his classes and military strategy held little of interest to him. We can only hope rule does not fall to him.”

  With a shake of his head Johann smiled. “Now I’m feeling my years. When I last saw Colin he was barely old enough to toddle away from
the Queen’s knee. He’ll be at least twenty four years old now. Seven years younger than Torel, and ten years younger than Lorun. Given time there may even be hope he will grow to be worthy of the crown. It is rare that one of Ronan‘s royal line does not mature wisely.”

  Johann spoke quietly, joy and sadness conflicted in his face. “We traveled with our son to see Lorth’s coronation. That was the last time Mari and I left Aldan, except for short trips to visit Tomas and another friend or two I have tucked away in the Swa Caran.“

  A thin line created a parody of a smile on his face. “My son met his wife here in Relante on that visit. They fell in love and he convinced her that the village we lived in was charming and quaint and she just had to see it. She loved Jeron greatly but the entire time she lived with us it was obvious she missed living in the city.” Deep lines of grief etched Johann’s face. “Almost I wish she had convinced him to stay behind with her. There are many more healers in the city. Had they lived here she may not have died during childbirth, and my son would not have lost his will to live.” Johann stopped, engulfed in the memory of his son. Pink had heard him speak about his grandson before but this was the first she’d heard him mention his own child.

  Focusing intently on the path they walked, he said, “But you can never second-guess history. There is no way to change what’s past. If they stayed here, perhaps they would have fallen victim to violence. Living in my village I got to bring Trace up to know goodness and honesty.” Joy suffused his face as he thought of his grandson. “I hope he still has those characteristics. The world can be hard on a soul. At least we haven't been actively at war since he left to join the army. He will not yet have suffered through that horror.”

  Pink didn’t know how to react to that statement. She had never been through it either and had no idea of the kind of things Johann must have done to survive.

  He turned to look at her and said, “I have talked your ear off today. If I bore you, please feel free to tell me about it.”

  “Not at all,” she said, “I find this all fascinating.”

  They selected a campsite well off the road and Pink began cooking supper. “How long do we have until we arrive in Relante?” she asked.

  “It should be no more than a couple of days travel. Those two men Conall had us hiding from, may have just been travelers, but neither Conall nor Angel seemed to like them. If those men are associates of Garec’s they may have alerted some of his other acquaintances. Truth be told, I’d rather not risk meeting anybody until we can blend into Relante.”

  They’d been going around towns during the day and Pink had suspected his reasoning. “I certainly agree with you, as does Conall.”

  Sometimes lately it seemed that Conall was always in her mind. When something was important, like the two men coming up the road he asserted himself more firmly in her thoughts but whenever she thought about him, he was there. She could tell what he was thinking just by touching his thoughts—she didn’t have to go seeking his conscious mind. It was almost as though they had become one entity.

  Johann still tried in vain to teach her control of her magic. She spent evenings learning to wield the wild burst of energy that sprang forth when she called. Honing it to a point delicate enough to light a candle. So far she had failed miserably, though her efforts were improving. Occasionally she still tried on her own, like last night with the fire. Tonight’s lessons continued long into the dark.

  They made a cold meal of smoked ham and beans. She carried the bone away from the campsite to give to Conall. As always, he appeared in front of her as soon as she was out of Johann’s sight.

  She left plenty of meat on the bone and he smiled, a rather frightening grimace, in which he pulled his lips back from his teeth. If she had not been in mental contact with him the first several times he had done this, she would have been terrified. He must have been hungry. He started eating while she was still there. Usually he waited until she was out of sight. It embarrassed him to have her watch him eat. Possibly because of the first meal she had seen him consuming.

  “What will you do when we are in Relante?” she asked him reluctantly. Not wanting to hear that he planned to go back to his mountains.

  Chapter 19