Iceblade

by Zenka Wistram

  A painted cloth depicting the Goddess as a red bear nursing twin cubs had been hung in the middle of one of the long tent walls, the southern wall. Fresh flowers had been garlanded around the door of the tent and the hanging curtains, causing Daltorn to sneeze, then give me an apologetic look. I shrugged helplessly, offering a sympathetic smile. Once dinner was over, I'd take the garlands down to the meeting place and drape them on the red-leaf rowan, so Daltorn could at least sleep without being miserable from hay fever. Nefen and Samar set to putting up the cots against the side walls of the tent, avoiding the hanging of the Goddess. Three were placed along the north facing wall and one on the south. When the cots were set up, they unrolled the bedrolls on top to provide more comfort. I unpacked my backpack into one of the trunks in the back room, and Selas' into the other, mindful to keep Selas' things completely, neatly organized, as he would wish. Wyntan and Daltorn pushed the rest of the packs under the cots and divided up the blankets and fresh clothing. At my request, the sweeping woman brought back a large piece of cloth and helped me hang it in the back room, separating Selas' area from mine for the sake of propriety, though we'd been sharing a room as needed and available since we started this journey. Even so, it was important to make it clear our minds were on the battles that lay ahead and not on each other, if any might think Selas and I shared a very different relationship than we did, in the minds of those gathered here in the Wood, to help ensure their faith in me. I did not believe it would take long before they saw the relationship between me and Selas was not the sort that clouded our minds and incited passion, I thought, smiling with dry humor.

  A rack was strung up near the picture of the Goddess to hold our weapons and armor. Declan and Wyclif set to making sure it was sturdy, then helping me out of my armor and hanging it up. Though the armor was light in weight, it was still a relief to get it off. My companions hung up their armor after me, placing their weapons carefully into the rack. If they damaged their weapons, Selas would have something to say about it, and it seemed unlikely he'd wait until morning.

  I took a short walk to the edge of the camp, followed by more than a few of the refugees. The Goddess-made spring extended about a hundred feet out from the camp all around, and the weather remained spring-like – warm with a chilly breeze.

  "Banning, my friend," I called quietly. "Banning, the time has come. The Goddess has shown Her sign. It's time for you to go and find your rest."

  "Already?" he said sleepily, raising his small head from my wrist. "I am ready, in that case." I set him gently down, then turned to the people watching our farewell. They were whispering to themselves about the speaking snake.

  "This creature is dear to me, and favored of the Goddess," I said loudly, bringing them to a hush. "Any who harm him will answer to me."

  "Of course, Lady, we will heed you," a man said, and the others agreed quickly with him.

  "Ada," Banning said, and I leaned down to hear him. "Ada, most blessed friend, be well. I will see you again."

  "Do you know that?" I murmured. "Or do you just guess?"

  "I will make it so," he said, and slithered off into the full underbrush. I returned to the camp holding in my sadness and uncertainty at his loss. From that moment on, anything I needed to learn about my gifts or about Iceblade or even about myself, I must learn it without Banning's help. I knew I would also simply miss him.

  Several people helped me get all the garlands from the tent and string them up from the rowan tree. A few nimble souls climbed the tree, sending the garlands far up into the branches. We all cheered for them, and, enjoying the cheers, they climbed even higher to place more garlands. When we were done they climbed down and bowed to the crowd, flashing pleased smiles at our clapping. Daltorn, who along with his brother were at my side serving as honor guards, shot me a grateful look, his eyes and nose still red from his closer encounter with the flowered garlands.

  Finally, we sat down to eat. Full dark had fallen beyond the walls of the tent, though the camp remained lit by many small fires in rings of stones. The women, though invited to join us, excused themselves after bowing to me. Declan and Wyclif alone of the refugees took me up on my request that they join us in our meal.

  Set upon the table were pots of roasted venison, boiled new green shoots, fried bread, dried berries boiled with sugar, and fried lant root, spiced and given a bit of salt. Lant could be stored for an entire winter, but if stored much longer than seven or eight months, it could cause hallucinations. Of course, there were those who purposely stored it longer than was wise just for that use, but sometimes the root would be so spoiled they would be poisonous, causing death. Other times, the hallucinations themselves could put a rotted lant eater in danger, my mother told me she'd seen someone cast herself headfirst into a well on the command of one of her artificial visions. Most people felt the need to have full use of their senses and wit about them, so avoided the rotted lant.

  I felt a little sorry for Selas, missing this nice meal only because he didn't trust anyone to haul the weapons and armor properly without his supervision. Though I doubted he'd care much, I decided to keep a plate of food ready for him. I knew Selas could lose himself in his duties to a point where it mattered little to him whether he dined on hot roasted beef with fresh vegetables or cold, living caterpillars, though I'd never fed him caterpillars to test this theory.

  Wyclif told us that the ale was brewed from plants they found growing here in the Wood just after the first refugees arrived. He had found it smelled much like hops, and grew in vines on the oak trees, he'd never seen a plant like it before. Bravely he had tasted the leaves of the vine, and found them edible. The ale brewed from this plant tasted rather bad, but it was gone quickly all the same.

  "We have more trunks if you need them," Declan said. "And some people brought maps with them when they fled. We can have them brought here."

  "We could also use ink, and parchment," Nefen said. "So we can begin to make records of who is here and start organizing people for training."

  Declan nodded. "I can find that as well. If we don't have it, and there is none in the Wood, Wyclif may be able to get some on one of his forays. Once you make it known something is needed, it will be found for you."

  More women arrived after the meal to help clean up. I kept aside a plate of food for Selas and two pieces of fried bread, though Wyclif had sworn he would make sure Selas had hot food as well.

  One of the ladies introduced herself as Renata, Declan's woman. She was about forty years of age, younger than Declan by about half a decade. Her silver and blonde hair was cut very short, hanging to her nape at its longest, and her eyes were velvety brown. Pointing to her shorn hair, she said,"It caught on fire, and though it was put out before I was badly burned, it was ruined. Declan cut it off for me. That's when I started to care for him." She smiled, her eyes dancing. "He had tears in his eyes while he did it. So I knew he cared for me too. Especially when he kissed me some days later, while I was still burnt and nearly hairless." I shared her smile.

  "How wonderful. He looks so stern at first glance, but at heart he's a romantic," I said. "I guess, like my mother said, it's all in the soul." Renata helped me sort through the clothing for what would fit everyone. I kept for myself two dresses, light grey blue and deep forest green, and a dark blue tabard to wear over them. The other woman urged me to take a second tabard the plum-red color of bogberries as well, noting it suited the green dress.

  "This is more clothes than I've ever owned," I said. "With my tunics and pants counted."

  "Really?" she asked. "That would be about one day's wardrobe for me, back before the crows army!" She laughed, dismissing her own surprise with a fluttering hand. "I was the widowed daughter of the Lord of Harlteton. Declan was the constable there. He felt he could never approach me then – so there's one thing at least I'm glad has changed."

  She ordered a couple of men to bring in buckets of steaming water and a massive copper kettle so I could give myself a make-shift bat
h. Barking orders in a tone that would do Selas proud, she came up with sweet smelling soap and soft cloths for drying with. My hair was unbraided and she scrubbed every inch of it and poured fresh rinse water over me, pushing me into men's long woolen underwear as pajamas when I was dried off.

  "You may be the Chosen," she said. "But right now you look very young and even more weary than you are young. I'll handle anything that needs handling tonight, you rest." I thanked her gratefully and lay down in my bed, soft as heaven and cozily warm. She called her burly helpers back in and they hauled the kettle out to be dumped, then blew out my candle and returned to the main part of the tent. I heard her order up new bathwater and the kettle back, then order all the men out so Samar could bathe as well. When one of the men grumbled, she told him sweetly he could bathe in the creek now that it was thawed, but there was no way she was having a woman bathe down there in the open. I listened carefully, protectively, for any rude comment about Samar's disfigurement, but heard none. Renata, seeing the scars, merely clucked her tongue sympathetically and said, "If you are in any pain yet, I have something to ease it." Samar must have shaken her head, because Renata replied, "I'm glad you aren't hurting, but sorry you've been through this."

  When the men were allowed back in, I heard them and Samar quietly draw straws as to who would stand watch outside the doors of the tent first. I poked my head out of my room just as Nefen and Daltorn were showing their straws, indicating they would go first.

  "We are safe here," I said.

  "It doesn't matter," Nefen said, moving to stand close so I could hear his murmur. "The people have to be shown that we find you worthy of protecting. You must not only be the Chosen, Lady, but also clearly appear to be the Chosen."

  "I wish you would keep calling me Ada."

  He gave a quick, grinning bow. "If you wish it, I will do it, at least here in the tent."

  "I will go mad if all my friends start talking to me with titles," I said wryly.

  "I'll let them know, but I'm sure we all agree that we'll refer to you by titles in the presence of others. Hopefully you'll only go a little mad." His grin was wider now, his grey eyes warm with amusement.

  "Oh, go away, I need rest if I'm to fight off madness again."

  I pulled the curtain shut and lay back down, irritated and amused.

  The camp was soon quiet, and our tent soon after. I woke up later to the sound of Selas settling in to his part of the tent, his candle lantern sending patterns of light dancing across the dividing cloth.

  "Welcome back, old man," I said. "Did you eat?"

  "I ate, Witch," he replied. "And that's General Old Man, you know." I noticed I'd graduated from "witch's daughter".

  "Good night, General Old Man.”

  In the morning I dressed in the blue dress and tabard, wrapping a yellow woven belt twice around my waist to keep the tabard from flapping around and to tuck my Savanne feather in, braiding my hair to hang down my back. The tabards were long rectangles of cloth, covering my front and back down to about my shins, with a square neck hole for me to put my head through. They were not closed at the sides, and while some could wear them unbelted with no problems, I was not that graceful.

  At the breakfast table I noticed that my companions all were in clean, new clothes, even Selas. Samar wore her navy shirt and brown suede leggings, Nefen wore grey, the color he favored, a linen tunic and pants. The brothers also wore simple tunics and drawstring pants; a mossy green tunic and brown leggings for Daltorn and a russet tunic and dark grey pants that had once been black for Wyntan. Selas had chosen a dark green tie-front shirt and equally dark leather leggings.

  Declan, Renata, and Wyclif joined us for breakfast – more fried bread, served with dried fruit boiled with sugar into a syrupy consistency. It was hot and excellent, more trouble than I usually went to back in my cottage at Berowalt. There breakfast would likely have been cold bread and perhaps hot tea.

  "Some of the younger men have left the Wood from time to time on missions to get supplies from towns nearby, at least the ones that haven't been burned to the ground," Renata said. "The manor at Westling only burned partially, leaving the pantries practically untouched. So we have many, many barrels of dried food, especially berries. And only a few of the barrels yielded food that tasted of smoke." She gave her tinkling laugh. Declan smiled proudly at her. I could see how much he loved the sound of her laugh, and the freedom with which she shared it. Even Samar was smiling at her, her scars stretching.

  The two are joined? she signed to me. Her lovely eyes were sharp, interested, darting between the two of them and me.

  "What does that mean? Those gestures?" Declan asked, intrigued.

  "She is asking if you and Renata are wed," I answered. Samar nodded to indicate the truth of my translation. Renata blushed a little, looking down.

  "There was no one to wed us, but we're promised," Declan said to Samar, turning to face her. I was glad to see him address his questions directly to her, I had noticed in my own village, whenever someone had some impairment, others tended to talk around them instead of to them. In answer to Declan's statement, Samar pointed at me. The two lovers looked at me hopefully.

  "I'm no priestess," I began, holding up my hand. "I don't even know the full vows!"

  "I'm sure we could come up with some suitable vows," Renata said breathlessly. "If you could just bless the union." I considered the request. It didn't seem like too much to ask of Galiena's Chosen. Would it hold, a blessing I gave such a union? I looked at Selas, and he gave a short nod.

  "I will, when you are ready," I said at last. I felt within me the approval of the Goddess, and I smiled widely.

  "Tonight?" Declan asked quickly. Wyclif laughed and slapped him on the back.

  "Tonight, then. You come with your vows, and I'll come with the blessing." I laughed, sharing their joy. "I feel already the blessing of the Goddess in this." Declan beamed at me, then at everyone at the table.

  "Oh, stars, I have so much to get ready!" Renata gasped, jumping up from the table and leaving the tent at a bolt. I heard Ruck screech at her as she ran past him, affected by her excitement.

  After breakfast was cleared away, my companions helped each other into their armor, and we toured the camp. Before we set out, Declan told us there were about five hundred people hiding here in Reckonwood, including two babes born since their mothers took refuge in the camp. There were twenty-six children, the majority by far orphaned and taken in by a parent grieving for his or her own children. Most of the people here were in their late teens to middle age, but about ten elders had found their way to safety in the camp. The elders had formed a sort of informal council advising Declan, much as was done in every village from one end of Dragon's Tooth to the next.

  Declan mentioned that he had feared a stiff scolding from the council after demanding a sign from the Goddess yesterday, but that no one had been angry with him. "Unless you and the Goddess are," he added, looking at me, meeting my eyes with some sheepishness.

  "I am not in any way angry. You made a prudent request. And I don't think bringing Spring into the Wood with two months left of winter is a sign of the Goddess' displeasure."

  Declan gave a heart-felt sigh of relief. He continued giving us his tally of the refugees. "Of these five hundred or so, there are about two hundred and fifty men of age and health to be trained to fight the crows army."

  Samar signed, Women?

  "And how many women do you estimate could take up arms?" I translated for her.

  Selas answered before Declan could. "I'll wager we can get up about a hundred women, giving us three-hundred fifty or so."

  Declan considered, then nodded.

  "We'll need more weapons and armor," Selas said with satisfaction.

  "I can take some out to the nearby towns to get such as that," Wyclif said. "And any of yours what wants to come with, of course," he added with a bow to me. I bit the inside of my cheek while I smiled at him, all the bowing was making me tense.

/>   "I'll send these brothers here," Selas said, jerking his thumb at Daltorn and Wyntan. Both brothers perked up at the prospect of an adventure, no matter how small. "Why don't you see to that right now?"

  "Of course, General Selas, you can count on me," Wyclif said, nodding his red head. The three men left us to get their group ready.

  The rest of us followed Declan out into the camp, Nefen and Samar on either side of me like vigilant guards. Declan introduced people as they surrounded me, reaching out hands to touch me. He seemed to know everyone by name. Nefen and Samar pushed the crowds back and glared sternly at them, giving me some breathing space.

  "Don't crowd Lady Ada," Declan admonished the refugees. "Give her some air."

  "I'm glad to meet you all," I said so they all could hear. "But one at a time, please. I won't do you any good if I'm crushed flat as a old boot!" Laughter rippled among the crowd, and they backed off a bit more. Declan ushered the ten elders forward first, then it became something of a free for all. Hours passed, mid-day passed, and still people came forward to touch my hand, to speak to me. Some kneeled in front of me, rising only when I asked them to with my hand on that one's shoulder. Some wept, bringing a lump to my throat. Whatever meaning I had found within myself in the fields and with the children of Berowalt before the crows army came, my meaning now to these people was vastly different. If the bowing and kneeling made me uncomfortable, I reminded myself not to stop them from offering what they wished – I now belonged to them more than my own self. Some kissed my hand. Two of the children wrapped their arms around me, burying their faces in my skirts. Declan offered me a chair, but I declined. I would not sit while those who came to me stood. I would not dishonor their struggle by treating them as supplicants. I was here for them, not they for me.