by Sam Farren
“If you're going to keep eating like that,” Ghost said, over his far more modest pile of food, “You'll have to work for it, you realise.”
“Give her a break. She's had a long journey,” Goblin said, “I've no doubt you'll fit in well here, Rowan. You used to be a farmer, didn't you?”
Dully grateful that Ghost had waited until I'd eaten my fill to speak up, I nodded, but a knock at the door interrupted any defence I was about to muster for myself. Goblin rose to answer it, and I sat with my hands clasped under the table, dreading what Ghost might say next. I turned to Akela for support, but she was busy battling the baguette with her teeth, not pausing to slather on butter, or fill it with any of the meat on offer.
“Rowan, it's for you!” Goblin called.
Wanting to be out of the room, I didn't bother finding out who it was first. I left the kitchen, passing Goblin in the hallway as I darted towards the front door, and was met by Sen, standing out in the sunshine.
I stepped out of the cabin so that she didn't have to duck beneath the door frame to speak to me, and from the way she was fiddling with her long braid, still not looking directly at me, I could tell she'd been building herself up to this for the last hour, at the very least.
“H-hello, Rowan,” she said softly, “I'm sorry if I've interrupted your lunch. Would you like me to come back later? Or wait?”
“I'd just finished,” I assured her, but she still seemed hesitant. “Is something wrong?”
“Oh, no, not at all...” she said, running her claws against the side of her neck. “I thought we could talk. If you'd like to. Ash is... she's going to scout the forest. Rylan's soldiers are always trying to sneak in that way, and, ah. We'd be hunting too. Would you like to come?”
“I would,” I said, agreeing readily.
There was only one thing Sen and I had to talk about, and I didn't feel the need to brace myself for it. After all I'd witnessed in the tower, I doubted anything else could stir guilt and regret within me. Sen smiled brightly, tusks longer than Kouris', and she took a step back, ready to lead the way.
All of the cabins had been built to the same specifications – slightly elevated off the ground, two steps leading down onto the streets – and I was about to set off when Akela filled the doorway, still chewing on the last of the baguette.
“Northwood! Already, you are making friends,” she said through a mouthful of bread. “Good morning, my tall friend. I am sorry that Northwood, she is not thinking to call to me, so that we are introduced, but we are all having our faults, yes? Other than that, you are not asking for more in a friend. Except for when you are busy eating one dish, and she is already devouring all of the meat. But it is a rare situation, yes, and I am not holding it against her! It is not Northwood's fault that the bread, for some reason, it is absurdly long.
“Ah, I am forgetting my point. I am Akela Ayad, and it is a pleasure to meet you.”
Akela held a hand out, and I expected Sen to back away and mumble her greetings under her breath, but she took Akela's hand in her own, doing a poor job of not looking amused.
“I'm Sen,” she said, voice as quiet as Akela's was loud. “It's—it's nice to meet you. And, um. I think it's the afternoon.”
“Sen's Claire's maid,” I hurried to explain, and Akela nodded thoughtfully.
“Perhaps I am paying Ightham a visit,” she said, pointing to the tower. “Here, correct?”
If Sen considered telling Akela it wasn't the best time, she quickly realised it was futile. Akela headed off without waiting for confirmation, waving over her shoulder as she went, and Sen and I set off in the opposite direction.
Orinhal was a well-chosen location for the resistance. The ravine behind provided a natural defence, now that the bridge crossing it had been destroyed, and the dragons had done nothing to touch the wide, flowing river that had caused the city's original founders to choose the spot. Outside of the city, farmland stretched on as far as even a pane could see, full of crops and cattle alike, and dense woodland stretched west.
I stepped over tree stumps as we made our way towards Ash in the distance, and said, “Do we really need to hunt? It looks like Orinhal has more than enough to go around.”
“The pane, we... eat more meat than the humans,” Sen explained, ears twitching. “S-so they prefer us to hunt for our own food.”
I stopped atop a stump, causing her footsteps to falter. The country had near-enough been destroyed, and still humans were unwilling to share with the pane.
“That doesn't seem very fair.”
“I-it's fine! We make sure there are no other predators, and we... cull responsibly,” Sen murmured, glancing over to Ash, who was waving us over, “There's enough for all of us, like this.”
I didn't see the need for division in the first place, but Sen wasn't the one I ought to be pushing in the matter. Taking the lead, I hurried over to Ash and peered into the forest beyond. A bow and quiver too big for anyone but Sen were rested against a tree and she crouched down, slinging them over her shoulder as she apologised for being late.
“Don't get your hopes up too high,” Ash told me. “We've already had a few patrols pass through this morning, coming up empty-handed, as ever. Looks like Rylan's soldiers are learning not to try sneaking in, if nothing else. Honestly, this is just an excuse to slack off—but don't tell the Marshal I said that. Someone's gotta keep an eye on Sen, right?”
Sen headed into the forest, quieter on her feet than either me or Ash, and pushed back branches high above us so that they didn't catch on her horn. I almost forgot that I'd been brought there to discuss something, instead losing myself in the forest, watching out for twisting tree roots and dead dragons.
Ash walked with her axe at her hip, wearing nothing as unnecessary as dragon-bone armour, and checked her surroundings as part of a familiar routine. Giving Sen space, I fell back and said, “How'd you end up here, anyway?”
Ash shrugged defensively. Having a sword pushed through her chest and being left tied to a tree wasn't one of her fonder memories, and I didn't ask again. Once we were deep enough in the woods for it to start darkening, she spoke up.
“I was cut free a few days later by some of the resistance. They said they'd get me back to Felheim, if I took a letter to the King and Queen, explaining what was going on in Kastelir. Ended up a couple of miles away from the wall, and you can probably figure out the rest: dragons, fire, my opinion of our rulers rapidly changing. So here I am. On the right side, this time. Hopefully.”
Sen spun around, bringing a finger to her lips, and her ears drooped for having been so forward.
Ash and I quieted down immediately, taking extra care not to snap any twigs underfoot. Sen ducked down low, took her bow in her hands and pulled back an arrow, and crept along to the outskirts of a clearing. We crouched behind one of the thicker shrubs, watching Sen, bow creaking as she took aim.
A stag had wandered out to drink from a meandering stream, and in my eagerness for Sen's arrow to fly before it could flee, I leant forward, scuffing a rock free of the dirt. The stag lifted its head, ears perking up, and though Sen released the arrow, it was too late. It shot clean past the stag, liable to escape before Sen could take aim for a second time, and I winced, balling my hands into fists, willing the stag to come back.
It'd been nothing more than a thought, yet the stag tumbled to the ground, not given time to cry out.
Sen and Ash looked at each other as it came crashing down, and then at me. Staring at my palms, I couldn't decide whether I was losing control or tuning my necromancy to my needs; either way, Sen and Ash both knew what I was, so there was no need for me to explain myself. Ash cleared her throat awkwardly and Sen rose to her full height, glancing between the bow in her hands and the stag crumbled on the floor.
“Er. Is that safe to eat?” Ash asked, shooting to her feet. “Sen, can your lot eat, er. Necromancered meat?”
“It's safe!” I said, with nothing to back up my words. I clutched my hands behi
nd my back, resisting the urge to revive the stag, and Sen and Ash didn't move, as though waiting for the creature to make its escape. “I think. I didn't—”
I bit the inside of my mouth, thinking better of admitting to have accidentally killed something.
“I didn't mean to frighten it, and I didn't want it to get away. Sorry, Sen.”
My word was good enough for Sen. She stepped over the shrub, retrieved her arrows and knelt by the stag. She brushed a hand across its side, ensuring it truly had stopped breathing, and bowed her head, murmuring something I couldn't hear and wasn't meant to.
“That's some messed-up stuff, Rowan,” Ash huffed, slumping against a tree. “Good thing you're on our side. I wouldn't want you plotting against us.”
I shouldn't have felt the need to defend myself against comments of the sort, but I found myself saying, “Don't worry. I'm with Kastelir until we get this sorted.”
“Kastelir?” Ash asked, laughing. “Don't tell me you didn't hear. Come on! The resistance was founded by a group of people the Kings and Queen used to call rebels. Do you think they'd set out to restore Kastelir to what it was? Nah. Plan is, we make it better. Back to the territories. Not exactly sorted out the divisions yet, but everyone's more willing to cooperate when we're up against dragons.”
“Really?” It shouldn't have been a surprise. The land was in ruins; there would never be a better time to rebuild as the people wanted to, but it made me uneasy to think that everything Kouris had been through was a waste.
“Yep. Turns out Marshal Ightham and Kidira agree, so the resistance had no squabble with them,” Ash said. “Thing is, everything runs a lot smoother with someone who knows what they're doing in charge. The Marshal decided that farmers should run the farms, and what do you know? We're suddenly producing a hell of a lot more food. Funny that, eh.”
Sen came back over with the stag held across her shoulders, straining as much as a dog with a rabbit in its mouth would. Ash decided that the forest was as secure as it was going to get and led the way back to Orinhal, scowling at every branch that lashed out at her.
“You wanted to talk about something?” I said to Sen.
Ash took the hint and hurried on a few yards ahead, but Sen still looked hesitant.
“You can tell me,” I said in Svargan.
Sen's ears rose with her brow, and she said, “A-ah, you're friends with... Kouris.”
“That's right,” I said, “It's about Claire, isn't it?”
I'd thought Sen picked her words so timidly because Mesomium was new to her, but even in Svargan, she didn't exude much more confidence. I made an effort to pay extra attention to all she was saying, not speaking until she was done.
“I-it's nothing. I just thought I should say that... the Marshal doesn't talk about anything but work very often,” Sen said, using the Mesomium word for Marshal. Rank had little bearing, amongst the pane. “But I know that she missed you very much, Rowan. So even if the Marshal doesn't... doesn't seem like you remember her, just know that she's been getting better. Little by little. I think working here helps a lot.”
Sen managed a faint smile, but I couldn't bring myself to mirror it.
“Have you been with her long?” I asked.
“Almost two years,” she said, bringing her fingers up to the scar on her forehead. “We were taken to Kyrindval together.”
“I'm glad she had you,” I said to the ground.
I remembered Katja's words, the way she'd mocked me for expecting to find Claire unchanged. She'd been right. I'd imagined Claire dead, and I'd done all I could not to picture her alive, but I never considered the way Kastelir's struggle would take its toll on her.
We headed back to Orinhal without another word. Ash was aware that we'd been talking about Claire but knew better than to ask what we'd said, and at the gate, she insisted on taking the stag off Sen's hands. There were butchers to deal with this sort of thing, and Sen was supposed to be a maid, Ash reminded her; she shouldn't work herself so hard.
A few soldiers rushed to help Ash, and she grunted in appreciation, muttering about needing to get to bed. Sen and I walked through Orinhal together – the pane district was north of where I was staying – and though people didn't gawk at her as much as they had done so to Kouris in Praxis and Isin alike, no one wasted a moment getting out of her way. The streets fell just quiet enough for us to notice it, and we hurried on, neither of us saying anything to one another.
I wanted to ask her more about Claire, but I didn't know what to say; what I had any right to say. Sen too was distracted, likely worried that she'd betrayed Claire's confidence in telling me as little as she had, and I knew that the past two years couldn't have been easy on her.
I hadn't been looking forward to returning to Goblin and Ghost's, but Akela was back from the tower and had lugged a mountain of wood along with her. She was sat out in the street, hammering planks into place and whistling loudly. Making those beds she'd spoken of, as promised.
“Northwood! Sen! You are back from the forest,” Akela said, waving us both over. Sen glanced off to the side, having plenty to attend to, but Akela proceeded to make a convincing argument. “You know, I am thinking, there is nothing that is helping me settle in like my own bed, yes? Well! Except for a cake, that is. And if I am getting help from somebody, and they are as strong as a pane, then I am making this cake all the faster. And of course, there is not a drop of chocolate in sight.”
Sen looked off to the side again, but this time, she was smiling.
“I don't... have anywhere to be, until this evening,” she said with a decisive nod, heading over and sorting the wood into piles.
I sat out in the street with them, given the highly important task of handing nails to Akela. She said nothing of her visit to the tower, and though I suspected that Goblin had told her what had happened to Claire, seeing it for herself was another matter altogether. Akela and Sen chatted as they worked, and oddly, Akela didn't talk over Sen; they both had just enough to say to one another.
I was considering heading out to one of the farms and finding where best to make myself useful when Sen scampered to her feet, blurting out, “M-Marshal, is everything alright... ?”
Claire was behind me, drawing the attention of those passing by. She wore her shirt buttoned up to the throat, leather gloves on both hands and an eye patch over her bad eye, but there was no mistaking it. She was really Claire, and I hadn't imagined all that had unfolded in the tower last night.
My heart couldn't decide whether it wanted to rise or sink as I stood from my spot on a half-made bed.
“Everything's fine, Sen,” Claire reassured her. “Rowan, might we... ?”
Claire tilted her head down the street, some destination in mind, and I hurried over to her side. Akela waved us off with her hammer and Sen continued to fret, only to have Akela point out that she could channel that worry into something useful and distract herself by chopping more planks down to size.
Walking with Reis meant I was used to walking slowly, but even they would've seemed fast, compared to Claire. It filled me with an odd sense of hope for her; if Reis could learn to live as well as they had with a missing leg, then surely Claire could come to do the same with a shattered one. As we went, more and more people stopped what they were doing and politely tilted their heads towards their Marshal, while I revelled in how wonderful it felt to be doing something so simple with Claire.
“I admit I half expected to leave the tower and find that last night had been but a dream,” Claire said, and I darted around her, so that her good eye was to me, “I apologise if you felt that you had to leave in a hurry. It was a lot. For both of us, I'm certain.”
“That wasn't your fault. It was just finding you like that, and Sen turning up, and... you,” I said.
“That sounds like it was my fault,” Claire said lightly.
“You know what I mean. It was a lot to take in, and so much has happened since I last saw you. I don't know where to start, what to t
ell you first. Everything feels like it's going to be too much, or not enough.”
Claire hummed as we went, but made no reply that didn't come from the tapping of her cane. She hadn't strictly said that she was taking me somewhere in particular, but I doubted she would've walked this far purely to have an excuse to talk, and so I looked ahead eagerly, trying to guess at where we might be going. The further we went, the slower she became, but I thought it best not to ask if she was alright. I matched her pace without a word, hoping she'd tell me if it was all too much for her.
“When we first met, Rowan, we did not tell one another everything of our past,” she said, having had time to mull it over. “We ought to treat this situation in the same way; we shall tell each other what we must, when we must. When we are comfortable with it, and when we want to. I believe we're allowed to talk of the present, or even the future; there will be plenty of time to reflect on what's happened.”
That last part sounded like a promise.
“Alright. I'll tell you something,” I said, grinning. “The others probably won't be here for a few weeks, even though we all left at the same time. Do you know why?”
“I couldn't say,” Claire replied, “I doubt there's much of a scenic route to take, nowadays.”
I took a step closer to her, not wanting any of the onlookers, as respectful as they were, to overhear me.
“Akela and I came by dragon,” I stated matter-of-factly.
Claire stopped walking, purely to frown at me, both hands folded atop her cane.
“By dragon. Really.”
It took all my willpower not to laugh, despite it not being untrue in the least.
“Really! He'd been killed by Felheimish soldiers, and I thought it was so unfair that I... brought him back. Accidentally. Sort of. And he was a little weary of us, but once he realised we weren't going to hurt him, he was more than happy to help! Oh, and his name is Oak.”
