by Jim Galford
“Atall, I want you to understand something. No matter what happened, your father loved you very much. Everything he did was to keep you safe, just like what I do. I’m just trying to do what he wanted…until he comes back. I will always protect you, but if your mother wants to go somewhere safer, I might need to stay behind. Hopefully, your father can catch up then.”
Oria glowered at her brother, looking the spitting image of her mother, who continued to eye Estin angrily. Suddenly, Oria pulled free of Feanne and ran from the room, slamming the door as she ran into the hall.
“Someone get her!” Finth said gruffly, even as Feanne ran from the room after the girl. “Can’t get found here or we’re in a shit-pile of trouble.”
Estin waited with Atall for the females to return, the mood of the remaining people in the room worried. It was several minutes before Feanne reappeared, half-dragging Oria into the room by the scruff of her neck.
“No one saw us,” she told Finth in passing, returning to her seat with Oria in tow, sitting the girl down beside her.
“What is so bad that it requires running off?” asked Yoska, leaning close to Oria, who glared at him. “Some say the gypsies will steal you away if you do not obey your mother.”
The child rolled her eyes, but said nothing, just crossing her arms over her chest and glowering at the table in front of her.
“What then is our plan?” Feanne asked, clearly trying to turn attention away from her children as she put the cloth to her bleeding chest again. “Linn’s to be executed in two days and only the two of you can show your faces in town without drawing a lot of attention. I know by now, the labor camp has told someone that a fox and…Estin…are running around attacking people.”
“Do we need the soldier?” Yoska added, sounding quite serious. “He is good soldier, yes, but do we risk ourselves for someone we do not know? I would ask how this helps us free our people from the undead armies.”
“The survivors among my people are blockaded in their own damned caves for the most part,” Finth told them all. “We get no help there. Right now, I just want to get warm bodies that can fight in one place, be that here or half a bloody league away. Those undead are everywhere and I don’t wanna be caught with my pants down again…figuratively this time…”
“If we do free him, they will come looking for us. This defeats the purpose of hiding, no?”
“Estin?”
He looked up as Feanne inquired, his attention having been on Atall, who in turn was watching his sister nervously as he twisted the silver ring on his thumb. There was something unsettling in Oria’s mood and Estin guessed that Atall was trying to figure it out as well, but was faring no better in finding answers.
“I will do as my pack-leader commands,” he answered noncommittally. “I don’t even know the full situation anymore.”
Feanne’s anger visibly deepened, but she said nothing further.
“I say we free him,” she told the group at length. “We need every warrior we can get and having a human who is also familiar with military tactics will be useful, if we are to escape the undead commanders’ own tactics.”
Estin found himself confused and interjected, “Aren’t we safe here?”
“Not at all,” Feanne answered immediately. “In this region, the undead are marching on this location as we speak. It is the only surface location left to strike at. There may be others underground, such as the dwarven or dark elven cities, but we have lost contact with them. If this city falls, we will be moving as a pack again, seeking shelter in small groups in the woods and mountains.”
“Shouldn’t we be focusing on helping them defend the walls?”
Feanne got to her feet and walked across the room, grabbing one of his hands and digging her thumb-claw into the scar on his hand.
“That is how they seek our aid,” she told him, her stare unwavering. “They have tried to take me four times. Lantonne believes their army cannot fail and expects anyone else to work the fields to support the existing army. They are stockpiling food for a siege, Estin. How long do you believe the living can hide inside a wall before all the food is gone and the undead still wait at the gates? One army needs to eat…the other does not.”
Atall’s fingers closed around Estin’s other hand tightly.
“We will get as many together as we can and leave the city,” he agreed. “Just tell me where you need me to be and my role.”
Feanne eased her own grip on Estin’s hand, placing her other over his palm gently.
“I am sorry. We’re all scared,” she admitted, rubbing at the scar with the pad of her thumb. She lowered her voice and added, “And I am scared of messing this up…”
Estin closed his hand over hers, offering only, “You’re doing fine.”
“It is decided,” Feanne said, raising her voice for the others and pulling her hands free. She wandered back to Oria, this time with Atall close beside her. “We will free Linn and then prepare to leave the town. I already sent word to the others to meet in the southern mountains. No large cities, thus no targets for the undead.”
“You mean me and the gypsy get to free him,” said Finth dryly. “It’s not a big deal, but you two need to stay low, or we’re more boned than the ladies two streets over. That said, those ladies do some good business.”
“We’ll work on an escape plan and gathering of supplies,” Estin offered to the group, pointedly ignoring Finth. “Much of that can be done at night. I’m guessing this town’s got just as many people willing to sell goods to someone with a deep cloak and purse as Altis did.”
“More,” Finth chuckled. “Just be careful. They may not be as willing to sell you into slavery, what with having laws against that here, but they’ll still toss you back into an ‘army aid resource camp’ if they get the slightest hint you’re not a freeman. It’s a fine line that they leap over with ease. If someone asks for your papers, you need to be gone.”
“Can you get me clothing?”
Estin motioned to his threadbare, torn, muddy, and bloodied garments that he had been given at the slave camp more than a year prior.
“I have friends in clothing district who will do anything I ask,” Yoska announced happily. “They owe clan a favor or two. You will have new clothes, as will our foxes. This I pledge. These clothes might even be stylish.”
“Go get yourself cleaned up, monkey,” Finth barked, waving towards the water room. “Yoska and I will go do our magic. You just need to be ready to hustle tonight…I really hate farming and I look terrible in a collar.”
Estin gave Feanne a long look as she doted on the kits, wondering how he had managed to put her out of his mind for so long. Seeing her again felt like a fresh wound that he had no ability to heal. Still, he reminded himself that he had kept his promise and brought her children back to her. That was what mattered. Keeping that firmly in-mind, he got up and headed down the hall to Finth’s water room.
The room itself was no less ancient and battered than the rest of the dwelling, but had once been quite nice. Rotted oak paneling lined the walls, where it had not fallen off. Thick metal pipes across the ceiling brought water down into a basin on the wall, which had rusted rather badly from disuse. Still, it was an extravagance that Estin had never had and for the last year, the ability to clean himself at his own pace without someone using a bucket had been absent as well.
To many wildlings, the care one took of their own fur said much about them. He dreaded how he must look to his own people—to Feanne—with the thick matting of mud and grime that he could see down his arms and legs. He had not even looked at his own tail in a long time and cringed at how much effort it would take to pick all the burs and mud from its long fur.
Estin spent the better part of an hour trying to clean himself. He had never realized how much he depended on his claws for grooming until he tried to clean his fur without them. It was a struggle that made the act of washing up far more difficult than it should have been. As he had guessed, his tail w
as nearly a lost cause, much of the grunge stubbornly refusing to come out, no matter how much water he applied.
Finally, Estin gave up and resigned himself to living with the remaining burs, at least until he could spend more time grooming himself. He shook off as much of the water as he could, the chill of being wet, even in the moderately-warm building, starting to make him shiver. Accepting that this was the best he would be able to do for himself, he pulled back on his filthy clothing and started down the hall.
Estin almost immediately found himself the target of the children’s’ play while Yoska and Finth left to begin scouting Linn’s predicament. The kits were bouncing back from their experience in the camp far faster than he was, wanting to play-fight and generally tackle and maul him to amuse themselves.
At first, he had tried to get Feanne to play the same way with the kits, but she refused, choosing instead to sit nearby, watching with a coy smile that he had longed to see for quite a while, though as usual, he really wanted to know what she was thinking. There was some relief in seeing her burden ease, even if it required having two children leaping from random directions to pounce and bite him.
The later part of the afternoon was far quieter, with Estin curled in a corner with Asrahn’s spellbook, refreshing his memory of the complex formulas that he had been without for months. Some of it made his head spin, trying to remember how he had once thought these were easy.
Soon after he had begun his studies, Feanne had come over, quietly asking him to tend to her wounds. He had healed the gash on her chest and she had clasped his hand in thanks, then gone quickly back to her children, pointedly not looking him in the eyes the whole time. It was as though she were embarrassed to even ask for him to help her.
Feanne later rounded up Atall and Oria, first grooming their fur until it was smooth, then forcing them to settle and sleep for a little while. They argued and begged a while, then promptly passed out, exhaustion finally catching them. As they slept, Feanne sat beside them, watching every breath, stroking their heads as they snored softly.
“How long before you knew I was gone?” Estin asked her eventually, once he was sure the kits were sound asleep. He set aside the notebook and leaned against the wall of the room.
“Right away,” she replied, never looking back. “It just added one more person to try and find in the woods during my routine. Eventually, I accepted that you were gone…though it was far from easy. A few more months after that, I accepted that my children were gone or dead, as well. Convincing myself of those things nearly killed me, but in the end, I found the strength to come back to the pack.”
“I never meant to be gone like this.”
“I know.”
“If there was any way I could have come…”
“Then you would be dead and I likely would be too, as I would have fought to my last breath to save them,” she said, indicating the children. “As it was, I had nothing keeping me there. When we lost the town, I took any who would go and just left. It was for the best.”
“Finth told me that you were angry with me for disappearing…that you thought I’d stolen the children.”
“No, that’s not quite true. I blamed myself for every bit of it, but you made an easy scapegoat when you left. I felt like you had abandoned me…the same way Insrin had. I was furious for that and wanted to confront you, just as I wanted to confront Insrin. I know better now.”
She brushed back the fur from Oria’s face, where it had curled down near her eyes.
“Will you ever let me go, Estin?” she asked eventually.
Estin snorted and thumped his head against the wall.
“I let you go a little every time you mention his name. I let you go every time you left because of him. Even now, you won’t be near me because of him. I have let you go as much as I am able while I draw breath. I will never push you…but if you want me to leave you completely alone, please send me away. If I’m with you…I am who I am, Feanne.”
Feanne closed her eyes and nodded.
“Things are just too…complicated for this to work.”
“There is nothing complicated,” he said, reopening the book. “You have your children back and I will be the loyal guard to the new pack-leader. Nothing more, nothing less. I said my feelings just once, Feanne, and I have no intention of hopelessly spouting them every time I see you. You’ve told me before that our people hold no special loyalties to those they were with before choosing a proper mate and I will abide by that.”
“And I will keep telling you that until at least one of us believes it, Estin.”
After an hour of silence, Yoska was the first to arrive, entering quietly and checking the halls outside for any sign of pursuit. He then closed the door and turned to Feanne and Estin, giving a polite bow. Stopping abruptly, he studied each of them in turn.
“Had I known I had missed a funeral, I would have brought other clothing. Regardless, I have brought clothing that should hide you well tonight.”
“We’re fine,” Feanne said gruffly, taking the clothing he handed her without looking at it.
“Of course you are,” Yoska said, chuckling. “Is a good thing we gypsies have no relationship issues…that way I cannot recognize them in others. I will just go sit in the corner, while you two continue to be angry about something that has nothing to do with one another. Yes, I shall do that…”
True to his word, the man sat down in one of the rickety chairs and closed his eyes and appeared to fall asleep.
“We should go soon,” Feanne told Estin soon after that, untying the bundle of clothes she had been handed. “I want to be back before the kits have been up very long.”
“They will be cared for,” Yoska noted, not opening his eyes. “Do what you must. No need for rushing, but please give my regards at the funeral.”
Smiling and shaking his head, Estin opened up his own pile of clothing. It contained a simple human-style outfit, with alterations to fit his slightly different frame, specifically his tail. Yoska had even thought to include leather foot covers that would, at least to a cursory glance, look like he was wearing boots. The whole outfit then could be covered with a bulky hooded cloak, which Estin could only hope would somewhat hide his tail.
Pulling on the outfit and fastening the cloak around his neck, he looked over and saw that Feanne was nearly ready as well. A long pleated skirt covered legs, feet, and tail, making her disguise far simpler than his own. With the hood of her own cloak in place, anyone who missed the long muzzle and wet nose would never guess that she was not human and certainly would be unable to identify her breed.
“You look marvelous,” said Yoska, his eyes still closed. “Now go mourn, or frolic, or whatever it is your people do when you are brooding. And please pick up some proper alcohol while you are out. Is essential travel supplies, no?”
“Do we have any coin?” Estin inquired, even as he had started to head for the door. “I can steal if I have to, but I’d prefer not.”
Yoska still did not open his eyes, pulling a small jingling pouch from his shirt. He then reached under the chair and drew out Finth’s wicked-looking knife and handed that to Estin with the pouch.
“The coin is all yours to spend, but please bring the knife back without yours or anyone else’s blood on it. Is bad luck for hiding.”
Estin took both and almost offered the weapon to Feanne, until he saw her eyes under her hood looking at him like he was an idiot. She held out her hands, reminding him that she still had her claws. He just gave her a weak smile and slid the weapon into his own clothing.
With that settled, Estin led the way from the room, heading down the way he had originally come into the building. At the bottom of the last set of steps, he exited out into an alley, at which point Feanne began whispering occasional directions to him, allowing him to remain slightly in front until they reached a wider road, when Feanne began walking alongside him.
“The main street here will take us to the market district,” she told him soft
ly. “The sun should be far enough down by the time we get there. Anyone who is still open usually will not ask any questions. Finth took me down there a few times in the middle of the night…that late you would not need the cloak. They really don’t care who you are or how many posters your face is on.”
They pressed on, moving through light traffic of people from all walks of life. Unlike in Altis, where Estin had seen the clear difference between the ghetto and the rest of town with regards to which races were allowed to be in the open, here he saw a little of everything, comfortably moving about without regard. He smiled at seeing even wildlings, their faces unconcealed.
Feanne guided him through the market section as they arrived, pointing out which shops specialized in which goods. Their destination was specifically a large squat building that Feanne explained sold most of the large quantities that caravans would need. Since they were trying to stockpile not only for their own travel, but anything else they could get for the others out in the mountains, Feanne had told him this store was the best bet.
Leading the way in, Estin walked into the large storeroom, where a dwarf was arguing loudly with a glaring orc about the pricing of the goods. Even before he could get a good look around at the aisles of supplies, a blue-skinned fae-kin with odd spots came hurrying up, stepping right in front of Estin.
“Thank you for coming in tonight, can I…,” he seemed to notice Estin’s face under the hood, “…help you with anything?”
“We need supplies for a small caravan journey,” Feanne cut in, handing him a list of what Finth and Yoska had recommended.
The fae-kin took the note, but stared at her face, clearly recognizing them from somewhere…likely a warning to watch out for them after the escape the day before.
“We don’t get a lot of…foreigners in here,” the man explained, reading over the list. “I presume you have coin, or something to trade that won’t get me arrested for accepting?”
“We have coin, no worries,” answered Feanne for him, taking charge of the situation and demanding the full attention of the shop-keep. “Can you meet our needs?”
