War and the Wind

by Tyler Krings

  “This way,” Jon told her. The rode their horses to past the market to a large building. The sign above the door portrayed some bird being choked by a fist.

  “The Strangled Rooster?” she read. The word ‘cock’ had been scratched out though still clearly visible.

  “Aye. Original owner had a sense of humor. They’ve attempted to make it more family friendly over the years.”

  “So, they named it The Strangled Rooster?”

  “Cheaper than buying a new sign,” he said as they dismounted. They led their horses around the back where a girl waited by the stable. Several horses already made their bay behind stall doors, and the girl was doing his best to spit shine weathered tack.

  “Mister Jon!” she shouted. She carefully laid the leather pieces on the ground and ran to take Isca’s reins. “Why you ride Isca, eh? Irving no like you anymore? You not feed him enough?”

  “Irving seems to have taken to the lady, I’m afraid.”

  “Oh…aye. And who wouldn’t?” The girl’s eyes widened with something like awe as she took in Ana’s appearance. Despite her love of being worshipped, she felt herself blush.

  “Mind your manners,” Jon took the reins from Ana and handed them to the stable girl. “They don’t need a stall. Just brush them down and tie them out back. No treats.”

  “Come on, Mister Jon. Just a little alfie to keep them happy, maybe a carrot or two.”

  “Just hay, Tin. If I find Master Honren has charged me for another bucket of carrots, it’ll be your hide.” Jon slipped a fat coin into the stable girl’s pocket.

  “Aye, aye,” the girl turned away leading both horses. “I’ll see if I got some extra in the cellar, okay?” Irving was sticking his nose in the boy’s hand as they walked to the back to the stable.

  “Irving’s half a shit because of Tin,” said Jon when they were a few steps from the stable.

  “And the other half?”

  “The old man, and his soft heart.”

  Ana half smiled through a scoff. “Somehow I find that hard to believe.”

  They backtracked their way into the market. Without the horses, their path was more crowded as those gathered pushed and shoved and attempted to mind their business while being a part of everyone else’s. The smells were not unlike the farm, only harsher and more of them. Sweat and animal leavings and dusted crops lingered in the air while old and new piss filtered through the rainwater in the manmade ditches in the side of the road. Men and women yelled from carts and stalls, waving leaves of tobacco, candles, clothing, knives, jewelry, and ceramic pottery. All the while the midday sun beamed merrily upon them, and none seemed to mind. The cool autumn air notwithstanding, Ana’s own clothing began to stick to her flesh as sweat dripped from her back uncomfortably.

  Jon led her here and there, taking her to different vendors that he assured were of quality goods and fair prices. He passed the custodians coin in exchange for candles, wooden and steel parts for a grindstone, and several cooking utensils. He loaded his pack with goods he swore they did not need, but he did it all with a smile and a friendly handshake. She admired the process at first, being the silent third party of every engagement, but as the sun climbed higher, she became bored. Jon spoke with the fletcher, going on about the nature of different arrow heads and shafts, and which could better hold the others weight, and the like. She was not afraid to leave Jon’s side; however, the old man had insisted that it would be in her best interest if she did not. She seriously considered ignoring that advice, if only for a moment. She took a step away from Jon and looked across the crowd, through the sweaty, sun-stained faces to the garrison on the hill. Her eyes adjusted far better to the earthly light over the last few weeks, she had noticed. Her goddess’ eyes had been able to spot a hare from half a mile away when she and Jon hunted, or spot a snake as it hid in a pile of dead corn husks. Now, she stared at the sleepy faces of the men on watch. The sun glared off their plated chests, and their weary eyes could not keep up the pretense of vigilance. She started when one looked directly at her and met her gaze. Yellow eyes sparked from under the rim of his flat helmet, and a wolfish grin curled his lips.

  She nearly screamed when his voice came to her ear, “Lovely day.” He stood behind her now, the Wolf. His long figure walked in view, the illusion of his face faltering to her superior vision. His long nose and blood tarnished fangs broke into a hungry smile.

  She could not move as impenetrable fear overwhelmed her body. Her heart quickened, and she found she could hardly breathe. She managed her hands into fists as she sought to gather the wind but found her grasp fleeting. To fight or to flee, she had not decided.

  Put that away, he growled in the High Speech. You’ve great need to be afraid, but not of me.

  That remains to be seen, she seethed.

  Be calm. I’m on your side, and I’m only here to make sure you stay out of sight from the others.

  Her face betrayed her momentary shock. What others? I thought myself the only one to make it through?

  You were. The others I speak of are not your companions. I speak of the hunters.

  Are you not one?

  No.

  She considered. This new commander then?

  Aye. And more. Some might even be here, in this town. I smell them, but I cannot see them.

  So you’re the one hiding us at the farm?

  Not I, the Wolf chuckled. The old man handles that well enough on his own.

  The old man? she asked. Who—what—is he?

  You’ll have to ask him.

  And what of my companions? Do they remain in Anu?

  Some. But I believe most to be dead.

  Her heart dropped, and her breath caught. Dead?

  The Wolf nodded as he scanned the crowd. Most of the rebellion has been crushed under heel. Those that survived have gone into hiding, as you have, some even venturing to the other worlds. I have heard no word of them.

  She nodded. It had been something she had planned to do herself before it had become more prudent to simply flee in any direction. The Regime ignored the moral road laid down by the Creator and would stop at nothing to remake the worlds in their image. Especially their leader.

  So, she said, are you to be trusted? I seem to recall you wanting no part in the fight.

  He snarled silently. They made this my fight. My reasons are the same as everyone else’s. For now. Trust me or not Lady, I will keep you safe as best I know how. The last remnants of the rebellion would have words with you when the time is right.

  What?

  Aye. They make plans even now of finding a way to Evanna. They must be cautious; His eyes are everywhere.

  Her heart became heavy with sudden worry. She had been blissfully ignorant of the grander scheme during her time here. In a way, the farm was a heaven all on its own. Now, pieces on a game board were being placed ever so carefully, in a game she had forgotten she was still playing. She looked at her false husband, still grinning with the fletcher, and felt a pang of sorrow. The Wolf followed her gaze.

  I wouldn’t worry too much about him.

  She gave the wolf a steady stare. He deserves some happiness. He has only ever known one thing. He barely knows me, and yet he’ll stand in the way of anything that comes.

  I’d worry more about the ones he’s standing against. Natherans: don’t underestimate them.

  They can die like anyone else. Fate saw to that.

  Aye.

  If they find him…

  They won’t. Noah has masked his scent. And yours.

  She shook her head. How?

  Something else you will have to ask Noah himself. We’ve dallied too long, but I promise we will speak more. Enjoy the market. He left her standing at the side of the street scratching her head.

  The waving hand of an old woman caught her eye, and she realized that she had been staring at her stall inadvertently. She shook the Wolf from her thoughts and walked to the old woman out of curiosity and for the act of being polite. The woman
held a broad brimmed hat to her.

  “For the sun,” she said. Ana took the hat hesitantly, uncertain of how to proceed but sure that she now owed this woman coin she did not currently have. “Your skin,” the woman continued. “It’s too soft. Wouldn’t hurt to be a bit sun touched but…no need for you to swelter.”

  “Oh,” Ana instinctively ran a hand across her cheek. “Thank you. I don’t have coin.”

  “Take it, as a gift.”

  “Why?”

  The woman laughed. “Your man needs to buy you better clothes, dear.”

  “You know my husband?”

  “Everyone knows everyone, dear, but there’s not anyone who knows you. All we know, of course, is that you arrived with Jon.”

  Ana nodded. “I suppose that makes sense.” She tried on the hat. It fit nicely over what little hair she had, and she felt immediate relief as the shade cooled her face.

  “I ought to teach that boy a lesson,” the woman said. “Dressing you in a boy’s garb, not telling anyone he was getting married, then waiting this long to take you into town! What? Is he ashamed? If I had had half a mind that he was open to it, I’d have had me daughter set on him years ago. Alas, she’s run off with an idiot who doesn’t know the plow from a mule’s ass.”

  Ana laughed. “I suppose…I’m glad you didn’t?”

  “Oh aye, lucky for you, but what about me? Here.” The woman started to pull different fabrics from her cart. “Let’s get you something a little cooler. Men’s clothes, bah! Chafe you like a whore on the carpet.”

  “Oh, uh, all right, but I really don’t have any coin on me.”

  “Nonsense lass, I’ll get the money from Jon when next I see him. Now, let’s see what we can do.”

  She was wearing a dress. Jon stopped in the middle of the market, much to the surprise of the people around him, and stared. Tight at the waist, loose around the legs, stopping just below the knee. Simple, off-white, but gorgeous against her complexion. Jon did not know much about fashion, as this town of farmers and soldiers rarely required anything other than shirt and trousers, and sometimes not even that, but he did know he suddenly felt ashamed for offering nothing other than boy’s clothing the last few months. He groaned when he saw it was Evie dressing her and having a time of it. That hag was the queen of the town gossip court, not to mention a prominent member of the Women’s Council. Married to a guard captain, as it was, placed her as near nobility. Sure, she was nice enough, but give her a thread and she was like to take the quilt.

  Evie gave Ana another hat, this one matching the dress, and Ana smiled as she tried it on. Not at the hat, no—she was smiling at him. He blinked out of his reverie and walked to the women, careful to not to let his eyes linger.

  He stopped halfway across the street when he felt Rom and Ham walk up to either side of him, both sharing his view. Apparently on patrol, the two of them nearly looked like soldiers; their hair shorn and their scruff shaven. Even in the cool autumn air, both were clearly sweltering as the sun baked their armor.

  “When do we get to meet her sisters?” Rom asked.

  Jon grunted.

  “I hear they have really large families out there in the north,” said Ham. “We could invite and take them for a nice frolic around the town.”

  “A frolic?” Rom asked.

  “Yeah, I hear they love frolicking.”

  Jon nearly laughed. “And where did you hear that?”

  “Oh, I’ve my ways. Always keeping my ear to the ground with regards to beautiful women.”

  “I’m not sure that’s something you would like advertised Ham,” Rom observed. “Might not be taken the way you think. As for you, Jon, I can’t help but notice you seem to be keeping a sort of distance.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You’re staring at her like we are. Like it’s the first time you’ve seen her in a dress.”

  Jon shifted uncomfortably. “Well…It’s a new marriage.”

  Ham leaned over Jon to look at Rom. “When the fuck you become so observant? He’s still in the honeymoon stage. Were she and I married, I too might have to enjoy some lingering glances as she dresses and undresses. Hold the shit—what you mean by ‘new marriage?’” Ham’s face contorted as he looked closely at Jon trying to look away, “You two haven’t fucked yet?”

  “Ham!” Rom blurted, “For gods’ sake, she’s standing right there.”

  “All right,” said Jon. “That’s enough. Goodbye, you two.” He left them in the street.

  “Hang on,” Ham called. “If you haven’t fucked yet, she’s still up for grabs. You got to lock that shit down, sir!”

  “See something you like?” Ana asked. She twirled, and the edges of her dress flitted into the air.

  “I’d be a fool to say no,” Jon replied. A glance over his shoulder told him Ham and Rom were continuing their patrol whilst arguing the finer points of marital bliss. He sighed. Well, they’re not wrong.

  “A fool you are already, Jon,” Evie said. “Give us a few coin, and I’ll get her a few more things. Harvest Moon is on the horizon, and she won’t be dancing in farmer’s garb, I’ll see to that.”

  “The Harvest,” said Jon. “I see you two have been…talking.” He fished a few coins and placed them on the table laden with fabrics. Summer was over and fall in full swing, the townsfolk liked to put on a good show toward the end of the year, even though it had nothing to do with the harvest. It was also a high time for weddings.

  “Oh aye,” said Evie with too much pleasure. “And what’s this about a private ceremony you two had? It won’t do. A woman’s got to have a wedding proper. Leave it to me. I’ll gather the lasses, and we can even have it planned for the Moon.”

  “Oh, uh, no, that won’t be necessary-”

  “Why not?” asked Ana. “As it stands it seems we’ve already ignored several local customs. How am I to be a wife to you and the woman of the house if no one around here sees me as such?”

  Right from Evie’s mouth, thought Jon, and Ana was far too happy to repeat it. He could do nothing other than nod. Fear of putting his foot in his mouth erased any objections he might have been willing to voice. “All right,” he managed. Ana gave him a grin that was near pitying, though mostly pleasure. The women threw in a few more jabs before turning away and ignoring him completely. Ana disappeared behind a curtain several times and reappeared wearing something new, some of them a single piece of fabric, many made of several. Bright colors and a multitude of styles, she tried on every one and seemed to love them all. More than a few coins left his pocket as the bag of clothing grew larger.

  As he admired Ana’s modeling and listened to the women talk, he felt a creeping fear that there might actually be a wedding. The women in the town were able to accomplish wonders when they set their minds to it, and Jon and the old man had been wise to avoid them whenever possible. What was meant to be a temporary solution was turning decidedly more complicated.

  “Evie,” he said. The older woman ceased her gossip and Ana looked at him expectantly. Jon sighed, “About the Women’s Council…”

  “We’re meeting in the morning,” she said curtly.

  Jon nodded and took a breath. “I realize…uh…”

  Evie waited expectantly, a smirk growing on her face. Jon sighed again.

  “I realize that we did not seek approval before our marriage, nor do I have an appointment, but if the council has some time…”

  “We happen to be very busy, Jon West, but yes, I suppose we could fit the two of you in. From what I understand, you did not get married in any official capacity, and that certainly will not do.”

  “Right—”

  “The census bureau has strict standards for this sort of thing, and their rules mean much even out here.”

  “Yes, of course—”

  “Now I don’t know how they do it in the north, but that is hardly my concern. My concern, and that of the council, lies in making sure all our boxes are checked to the letter of the law. The
last thing we need is a bunch of imperials inspecting our town and sticking their noses in our business.”

  That was rather specific. Jon looked over to a small squad of imperial soldiers and felt Evie’s hand take his chin, guiding his eyes to hers. Less than a moment of searching him and she had all the evidence she needed.

  “Ana, dear,” she said without taking her eyes off his, “why don’t you try on the dress to your right. Yes, the green one. I’ll be there to help you momentarily.”

  Ana nodded with a smile and a passing look at Jon. She disappeared behind the screen with dress in hand.

  Evie cocked an eyebrow. “Well. Out with it.”

  Jon tried to take his eyes from hers and look at his feet. “It’s not that simple.”

  “Well, you had better make it simple. I’ll help; I’m going to take a wild guess and say she’s the one their looking for?”

  He grunted.

  “Why?”

  He found the prepared lie and decided to add more truth. “Her father…does not agree with our marriage. Nor does the suitor he had in mind. Both are rather influential in the Empire.”

  She did not answer right away. When she did it was measured and layered with caution, “Be at the Women’s Council first thing in the morning.” She turned from him quickly and disappeared behind the screen with Ana.

  Huh, that went better than I thought…Or did it?

  As the light waned so did the activity in the market. With their fares gathered and the sweat on the backs dried, Jon and Ana made their way back to the Strangled Rooster. The main room was crowded as always at the end of the day, with soldiers and farmers drinking and laughing. Mary minded the bar while her husband, Harden, banged around loudly in the kitchen. Together they owned the tavern; Harden’s mind for business was as poor as his hand in the kitchen was good. Paul, the old minstrel, strummed his guitar causally in the corner by the hearth, a mug of dark ale close at hand. His eyes had failed long ago, but as he would tell it, his hands could still strum the corset off any woman. His fingers worked fine for the somber tune he now played.