In Wilder Lands

by Jim Galford

  “Go, get out of my sight and don’t come back until you have the payment.”

  Estin looked at Finth, who shrugged and waved back the way they had come. Forced to lead the way with occasional prodding from the dwarf, Estin made his way slowly back to the filthy warehouse where they had started. As he reached the hole through the wall, he glanced behind him and found that the dwarf was gone, having slipped away somehow.

  Shivering at the idea of the creepy dwarf lingering around the area unseen, Estin hurriedly shoved the stack of boxes against the hole after he had gotten through it. As an extra precaution, he placed several metal bits from around the floor up against the boxes, hoping they would make a scraping noise to alert him if the boxes were moved.

  Estin fiddled with the boxes for several minutes, until he was confident that no one would be able to surprise them. He then went back to the corner where Feanne had bedded down before he had left, but it was now empty and cold.

  “I prefer if people cannot find me when I am unable to see them coming,” she said from somewhere behind him, her voice unsteady. “Sleeping is not the safest time in the wilds.”

  Turning sharply, Estin had to scan the warehouse for her. It took him some time to spot her, nestled among a pile of the fallen boxes. She had somehow gotten to the middle of a vast pile without disturbing the outer boxes, allowing the disheveled pile to conceal her. She watched him carefully with her good eye, though the other had swollen over onto the side of her jaw. If Estin had not met her already, he would have gauged her expression as challenging him or trying to scare him off.

  Once he had spotted her, Feanne stood up among the boxes on top of the bear skin, then moved slowly through the garbage pile, carefully picking her way to the warehouse floor without knocking anything down. She hopped from the last section of refuse, leaving no indication she had so much as stepped on the soft trash. She hesitated as her toes came down, as if she had to work to keep her balance.

  “You know my name from watching me shame myself in the court of the furless,” Feanne said, her voice and stance abruptly switching from friendly to predator. The simple posturing change made Estin want to run, despite having worked so hard to save the female. “I would know who you are and what pack you guide before I let you leave my presence again. I must also know where the pack is, before we leave the city. My father will want to make contact with them.”

  “Pack? That I don’t know anything about. As for who I am, I’m Estin.”

  “Estin,” she repeated, stalking around him. “Just…Estin? No title? No pack?”

  Estin felt he had just made a huge error, but doubted he could have guessed an appropriate answer. He turned to try to keep her from being behind him…something in the corner of his mind told him that his survival might depend on it. Though he had willingly allowed her to follow him most of the way to the warehouse, now he felt very nervous about allowing her out of his sight.

  “No pack,” he replied, trying to keep Feanne visible. He felt foolish turning around in circles, but she forced him to either do that or lose sight of her. “I run alone in the city. Most of the other wildlings are slaves here.”

  Feanne leapt with a feral snarl, bowling him onto his back as her fangs snapped near his throat. She pinned him quickly, slamming him down on the warehouse floor with enough force to knock the wind from his lungs and daze him as she sat down on his chest.

  “You deceived me!” she growled, clamping one incredibly strong hand around his neck, her claws tapping dangerously against his throat. “Give me a reason not to rip your throat out!”

  Estin thought of a dozen reasons instantly, mostly having to do with his own desire to keep breathing, but with her hand crushing his windpipe, he could manage no more than a croak. Spots began to dance in his vision as he struggled for air.

  Abruptly, Feanne released him, but stayed atop him, keeping him from running as he desperately wanted to. He started to move his arms and found that she had those pinned under her thighs, keeping him from doing much more than speaking or breathing, the latter of which he was happy to be able to do now.

  “Explain yourself,” she ordered, digging a claw into his chest where the necklace he had stolen from the duke hung, though the dangling feathers and other decorations were tossed about on his neck. “If I do not like your answer, I will find my own way out of this city and you will be without a bottom jaw.”

  “I’ll answer anything you ask, but I need to know what I’m supposed to be explaining!”

  Feanne just stared at him for a time, making Estin worry more and more. She kept one hand close to his neck, claws at the ready, as a reminder that he was entirely trapped. Panic set in quickly at being pinned down by a predator. The fear continued to build, slowly overwhelming his ability to think, until at last Feanne spoke again.

  “Do you think I am a fool and would follow a stranger through the city without question?” she asked, tapping the tip of her claw between his eyes. “I would have left you to die to those dogs, had you not been marked. You claim ignorance of what I speak.”

  Feanne eased her hold on him, letting him breathe somewhat easier, but he found his arms still pinned. She wavered atop him, putting a hand to her head again.

  “You clearly have no idea what this is,” looping a finger through the necklace as she spoke, letting the feathers fall into her palm. “Where did you get it?”

  Estin finally made the connections and began talking, though much faster than he meant to and found himself unable to slow down.

  “I found that in the duke’s keep. Up on the top floor. He has all kinds of things stored up there. I didn’t know what half of them were. I just…I took a few things that caught my eye. Varra said this looked appropriate for me. I should have left it. Maybe I should have left everything. Do you want the necklace? It’s yours. Take it. I have some gems in my pouch…”

  “Shut your mouth, Estin.”

  He nearly bit his own tongue as he clamped his mouth shut.

  Feanne twisted the necklace around and pulled the knot out to remove it. With little ceremony, she tied it onto her upper-arm above the deep lacerations, then returned her attention to Estin.

  “Now,” she began again, her claw brushing the tip of his nose. At this distance, he could see that she had filed the claws, apparently for fighting. “You are very lucky that I am the one who caught you wearing that. My father would have been far less forgiving and likely would have killed you the moment he knew it did not belong on you.”

  “What is it? It wasn’t like I was trying to pretend I was something else. It’s just a necklace. I thought it was pretty. How could I know? Things like that just shouldn’t be left…”

  “Quiet.”

  Feanne slowly lifted herself up, letting him move out from under her, but kept her eye on him as he scrambled from her reach.

  “You were wearing an elder’s mantle,” she explained, glancing down at the leather straps, beads, and feathers that now hung around her arm. “The colors of the beads have meaning within that pack. The feathers are a symbol of victories over one’s enemies.

  “Many of the pack elders and significant members of the pack wear these. It is a way for a traveler from another pack to recognize a leader or a healer if they are ignorant of that pack’s ways. Sometimes the great warriors of a pack will also wear similar necklaces, but the style is different.

  “When I saw you coming to help me, wearing one of these, I had to assume you were a revered member of a pack I had not been aware existed within the city walls. I placed my trust in you, solely because of this piece of jewelry, while ignoring my own instinct to run the moment I freed myself, using you as a distraction.”

  “That’s just plain mean,” Estin said, before thinking better of it.

  “It is the way of the wilds. Trust your kin and trust your pack…no one else deserves your trust until they earn it.”

  “I saved you from a cage,” he answered, trying to be jovial, “does that count for anyth
ing?”

  Feanne lashed out again, clubbing him in the chest with her fist, knocking him over.

  Rolling back onto his feet, Estin found her standing over her, her gaze deadly, even as her wounds bled freely again.

  “You watched me beaten by guards. You let me be dragged off on a leash. You walked away and wandered the building for over an hour, while I was caged and tortured by dogs. Where in there do you think you earned anything from me? Have I pushed you around enough to compare to having my flesh torn and ripped by dogs?”

  Easing back onto his haunches, Estin realized no amount of politeness was going to win him any ground in this conversation. He lowered his eyes and put up his hands defensively.

  “I’m sorry that I misled you,” he said, flinching just in case another blow was about to land, but it never came. “I honestly had no idea what I was presenting myself as. I did not suffer like you did, but I did lose someone who had been kind to me in that keep. It’s not often people are good to me and though I didn’t know her, I still feel like I lost a friend today. I was hoping not to make any extra enemies, after all that.”

  Feanne growled softly, kicking aside some debris that lay near her foot.

  “I am sorry you lost the human,” she admitted, stalking over to where she had left the bear skin. She snatched it from the old boxes, knocking several over as she stumbled. “My anger got the better of me. The fact that you found this necklace means that there is one less pack out there, thanks to this city. I do not like being hunted to extinction and will not go calmly.”

  “That much I had guessed.”

  Feanne flopped down on the bearskin again, this time with her back against the wall, so that she was sitting facing Estin. She wavered slightly, putting her hand to her head yet again, making Estin begin to wonder if she was in a lot of pain from her injuries.

  “What is your friend’s great plan to get us out from this city?”

  Easing himself down into a sitting position, he faced her uncomfortably, feeling like if he misspoke he would get attacked. In fact, he was quite sure of that.

  “He isn’t exactly my friend,” he noted, grimacing. “Nyess is a wildling, but that’s about as far as our relationship goes. He sells his services and those of the people who owe him debts to the highest bidder.”

  “And you have bartered for our escape?”

  “I did. But he’s betraying us to the duke. There will be guards at the point he recommended for escaping. He wants us to go over the southwest wall, where I’m guessing an entire contingent of the duke’s men will be waiting.”

  Feanne’s eye widened.

  “You know this and yet we remain here?”

  Estin nodded.

  “Yes. Nyess believes he’s a lot more clever than he is. Since I didn’t act like I knew he was selling us out, he’ll carry through with his plan. We’re entirely safe unless we actually go to the escape point. Once we don’t show up there, then he’ll send people after us.”

  “And how do you know he’s betraying your trust?”

  Estin chuckled at that.

  “Mainly because he let me negotiate a trade where I pay him nothing up-front. Nyess does not do anything without payment first, unless he thinks he is bartering for the trust of a new client. To get his help escaping should have cost me dearly, but he just asked me to pay him later. That tells me someone else already paid him. The last time I saw someone try to get a favor this big out of him, he demanded that their eldest child serve him for a year…he asked me for nothing.”

  Feanne actually smirked at that…maybe it was a full smile, but Estin could not be sure with the swelling in her face. She was beginning to look very tired.

  “Then how are we to escape, if not by the route your old friend has offered you? Also, should we depart now, rather than wait?”

  “I’d rather not,” he admitted. “We both did far more than is healthy today. I can’t possibly climb another wall without some rest and you look like half the army has beaten you. If we push on, I’m afraid you’ll bleed to death before we reach the woods. We have until dawn to rest.”

  Feanne held up her arms, inspecting the deep gashes that still oozed blood onto her brown-red fur. She looked over her legs next, checking each similar wound. Even her tail revealed a sizable tuft of hair missing.

  “They are getting infected,” she said somberly, touching her cheek as she spoke. “This one is already infected and there are broken bones. Resting for a few hours would be good, but much longer and I will not have the strength left to continue on. I believe that magic I used earlier to maintain myself is all that is keeping me going. Do not worry though, I will be strong enough after some rest.”

  They sat in silence a time, as the warehouse darkened with nightfall. Neither seemed to be quite able or ready to settle in for sleep, instead they both stared of in random directions, lost in thought.

  “Feanne?”

  She lifted her head and stared at him, her eye starting to show white as the light faded.

  “You may ask.”

  It took him longer than he would have liked to find the words, especially without getting himself mauled again.

  “Why did you go into the keep by yourself with all that wealth on you? Did you think the duke would do as you asked?”

  Feanne laughed openly for the first time since he had seen her, the sound lightening the tension in the room instantly.

  “No,” she confessed, smoothing the bear fur with one hand. “The answer is not a short one, I am afraid. How much do you know about the packs out in the wilds?”

  “Absolutely nothing. I haven’t been outside the walls of the city for more than an hour at a time since I was two.”

  Feanne gave him a sad look, but hid it quickly.

  “My father’s pack was one of many in the area. We have dealt with slavers and furriers every so often, as every pack does. They come in the night and grab our young and our slower members, while the pack moves on to new parts of the woods, looking for a safer place to live apart from the cities of man. This is how it has been since my grandmother’s grandmother was learning to walk, though in different lands.

  “Several months ago, the packs began disappearing. It began with the ones closest to the city, but others vanished soon after. My father’s scouts had reported seeing the first large armies leaving this city in the months leading up to the first of these disappearances, but we could not learn what the connection was for a long time.

  “Eventually, the men came for our pack, raiding our camps with greater numbers than any slaver group. They came with horses and armored warriors.

  “Our pack was one of the lucky ones. We managed to drive them off, then escape before they could regroup. We lost many that night.”

  Estin asked as she paused, “Did your father manage to keep the pack together, or did you all split up to stay safe?”

  “More than that,” explained Feanne, smiling. “He drew together most of those who had gotten away during previous raids on the other packs. They came together for safety, shelter, and a common desire to avoid being stalked by the city’s men.”

  She shifted her weight, wincing as she tried to find a position where her wounds were not paining her. Finally she seemed to find a more comfortable angle and brought her attention back to Estin, though he could see a dark streak of blood on the wall where she had been leaning.

  “We believed that we were far enough out from the city to be safe. This was incorrect. We were attacked again and again. Each time we would lose a few more of our people, as would the city’s collectors.

  “At first, we thought they were taking our people alive for the city’s slave market. I was part of the group that was to attempt to free one particular convoy of our people that had been caught the night before. We followed them back to a camp not far from the same river we were using for water. The moment they arrived in camp, they killed every one of the wildlings they had captured.”

  “That makes no sense,” Estin in
terjected.

  “This is what we thought. We stayed out of sight that entire day, watching. At nightfall, one of the black-robed humans arrived at the camp. The ones who were at the back of the throne room this morning.”

  “Turessians.”

  Feanne shrugged the name off, “Whatever they are called, they were the ones who came. The dark man worked magic that I am unfamiliar with over the bodies. When he finished, the dead got back up. He gave them weapons and they left with the rest of the city’s men.”

  Estin’s jaw worked, but he struggled to find words. Memories of Varra’s killer flashed across his mind.

  “They are raising the dead? Why would someone do that?”

  “The disbelief you possess is what I encountered back at our camp when I returned.” She leaned back against the wall and closed her eye. “I was called a liar. Neither my father nor mother could convince the people of the truth and I am not sure that they believed me either.”

  “So why come here, knowing they would take you, too?”

  “Several notable members of our pack demanded that we settle with the master of the city. They believed he was selling our people into slavery out of greed. Somehow, they came to the conclusion that if we delivered him enough gold, he would stop attacking us.”

  “That’s incredibly stupid.”

  Feanne growled softly, but replied, “Not stupid…ignorant. Most of the pack has never dealt with the cities of man. They do not understand money or the hearts of those not from the wilds. Rather than just delivering a box of gold, I decided to make it clear to my people what the city’s intentions were by sending in one of us, carrying the gold. If the duke took the one carrying the gold hostage, it would prove much about his motivations. If he killed that person, it would make them a martyr and convince every wildling in the region to either flee or fight.”

  “Why you?”

  “Would you let another risk themselves in your place?” she asked, holding her head, but not letting go this time. She seemed to struggle to continue the conversation, as though she were distracted. “I knew that whoever was to make the delivery…they would be taken captive, or worse, and I would not put another through that, just to prove I was correct. The gold…um…gold would only make the duke more willing to strike at us, so I wanted to be sure that there were no trails leading back to the pack. I could trust no one else and…and would not risk anyone else. I came into the city knowing that I would die.