Winter Tithe

by Carol E. Leever

  Tokara's stomach growled. Wonder if we're having breakfast in the kitchens this morning.

  The kitchens were always the busiest the week before the winter solstice, the staff preparing to serve hundreds of invited guests from all over the Chain and baking the spice cakes and cookies for the Days of Gifting that followed.

  Glorious anticipation bubbled through Tokara's brain, thoughts of feasting and merrymaking easily driving away the grey morning and her uneasy dreams. The solstice feast was her favorite time of year, and she looked forward to the happy hours she would spend with her family and friends.

  Tokara wondered if the Melian bards would return for the solstice again this year, bringing with them music and song. She longed to see her cousins and hear all the news from the land of the Sundragons. Perhaps Omen would even bring Tormy, the talking cat everyone was gossiping about. She speculated that a talking cat would talk about cat things, like chasing mice and taking naps; she concluded that she would probably prefer the genial ramblings of a talking dog. But I would love to see that Tormy. If he's real.

  Tokara ran two hands through her long hair, combing it out of her face. I should go down to the baths after breakfast and let the sun stones warm me up.

  She thought about at least getting the loose sun stone from the obsidian sarcophagus in the catacombs of her dollhouse, but then she remembered that her father had taken all of the extra heat-giving magic stones to the stables to keep the animals warm during the dead of winter.

  Chilled, she wriggled her feet into her fur-lined boots, which she had thankfully left at her bedside. She sat, unmoving, for a moment and basked in the featherbed's slowly fading warmth.

  "You took Howler!" Caia cracked open the heavy oak door to Tokara's bedchamber. Still in her linen sleep gown, long hair in snarls and tangles, the six-year-old pushed her way into Tokara's room. The little girl hollered loudly, "Give him back. He's mine, not yours! You . . . you . . . you . . . crumb cake!"

  Tokara stood up, speechless. Caia had thrown the occasional temper fit, but the rage that contorted her delicate face was something all together different.

  Caia flung herself at Tokara, tiny fists punching at her sister's stomach. Tokara stumbled back, smashing her calves against the front of her bed.

  "I don't have your pup, Caia!"

  Her little sister's face was red with anger and wet with tears and snot. "Liar!"

  "Caia!" Tokara grabbed the girl's shoulder and gave her two sharp shakes. "Cut it out! I don't have Howler!"

  The child stopped short. She quaked, rage tears still flowing, but panic and fear now flashed in her green eyes.

  "He's gone, Tokara. He's gone. He's gone!" Caia wiped her face with her sleeves, her gap-toothed lisp making her sound like a baby again. "Where is he?"

  "He could have snuck out when Neyla and Zennia tended the fire."

  "But Neylie and Zennie didn't come in during the night." Caia drew her pale eyebrows together in consternation.

  Tokara frowned as well. "They didn't stoke the fire in here either." She pointed to her fireplace. "It's cold."

  Caia swallowed hard. "We have to find Howler," she whispered.

  As the girls stepped into the hallway, the chill in the air tickled Tokara's nose, and she sneezed. At the last moment she had grabbed her woolen jacket off the storage trunk. She slipped it around Caia's shoulders. "You're shivering," she told her sister.

  "I'll worry about being warm when I have Howler back." The little girl's tone was stubborn and combative. "But thanks." She buttoned the jacket up to her neck and tied the belt as well.

  The stone hallway looked unusually dusky, the windows shuttered tightly against the cold, the thick pillar candles flameless in their sconces. Tokara stood still a moment, waiting for her eyes to adjust.

  "Howler!" Caia shouted into the encroaching darkness.

  "Shh!" Tokara cautioned. "Something isn't right."

  "I want Momma," Caia said in a small voice, her eyes big and round.

  Tokara took her little sister's hand, noticing that Caia's palms were as cold and clammy as her own.

  The girls crept toward the grand staircase. Caia's head twisted from side to side. She cast her eyes low to the ground, checking under and behind anything that could possibly obscure a dog.

  Tokara pointed at the thick red curtains partitioning the hall from the minstrels' gallery.

  Caia nodded and nimbly drew back the curtain. The narrow balcony overlooked the great hall. Below, her mother stood in conference with the seneschal and the captain of the guards. Tokara's brothers were also in attendance, wrapped in furs and leathers as if they had just arrived from the wilderness.

  Surprised to see Reeve and Rask, who should still be ice fishing on Garganey Lake, Tokara called out, but her friendly greeting was drowned out by a heart-stopping shriek. Tokara spun, twisting first to look at Caia — the source of the wail — and then immediately pivoting toward the cause of the little girl's distress.

  The handmaidens Neyla and Zennia stood propped like life-sized dolls against the wall facing the wooden railing.

  "Neylie! Zennie!" Caia cried out. "They're blue. Why are they blue, Tokara?"

  Tokara looked at the two young women, unable to tell if their faces were painted blue or had turned blue because their skin was extremely cold. In either case, neither woman was moving, and their open eyes glistened with cracked ice crystals.

  Upon hearing Caia's scream, their mother called out from below, "Caia! Tokara!" The urgency in her voice jolted Tokara from her torpor. "Girls, get down here right now! Jump!"

  Her big brothers called out as well, their panicked voices overlapping. "Jump! Jump!"

  Neither Tokara nor Caia hesitated. The girls clambered over the gallery's wooden railing and flung themselves into the air with complete trust.

  As expected, her mother caught her in her strong arms, while Caia sailed into Rask's firm embrace. Reeve steadied them both.

  Crushed against metal studs, Tokara realized her mother was already fully outfitted in leather armor, her sword sheathed at her side.

  Little Caia, light as a feather, struggled in their brother's grasp. "Neylie! Zennie!" Caia cried out. "They're blue. They're not moving."

  Gollis, the seneschal, gasped. "The poor dears."

  "They were so close to us," Tokara added hastily. "We could have reached out and touched them." She looked back up to the minstrels' gallery. "They were stiff as boards. Like they were frozen." She bit back tears.

  Gollis nervously twisted his oversized golden lion ring, the mark of his station. "Lady Kadana," he addressed Tokara's mother with a tremor in his voice, "what shall we—"

  "Are you hurt?" her mother asked the girls sharply, ignoring her seneschal.

  "No, Momma." Tokara hopped to her feet.

  "Did you see anyone else upstairs?"

  "No, Momma." Tokara said and turned to Caia for confirmation. Her little sister looked around, great furrows wrinkling her forehead.

  "I didn't see Neyla and Zennia up there. How did we miss them?" Her mother sounded angry, but she held out a gentle hand to Tokara.

  The great hall felt breezy, though not as cold as the upstairs. The tremendous fireplace roared angrily as one of the servants fed log after log into the flames. The young boy, Niadh, threw a concerned look in Tokara's direction.

  Tokara smiled weakly at her friend and swallowed several times to subdue the beginning of hiccups.

  "This sounds like what happened in the Chain," her mother said with grave concern. "Gollis, send Aster to me right away," she commanded the seneschal. "Neyla and Zennia will need a healer . . . if it isn't already too late. Gather all the servants in the kitchens. Count them all. Make sure none are missing."

  The man's shoulder-length wispy white curls danced around his pallid round face as he looked from side to side, but his dark blue eyes sparkled with determination and courage. "Yes, my lady," he said, bowed and headed for the servants' quarters at a near sprint.


  "Now—" Kadana started.

  "Howler is gone!" Caia interrupted their mother with a tortured shout. "We have to find him." She pulled on Rask's hand. "Get Fergus and Becca." The soles of her house boots pelted the stone floor as Caia impatiently ran to her other brother and tugged on his hand. "Reeve, get Liam and Rawley! They'll sniff out Howler. Hurry!"

  Her mother waggled a finger at Caia. "The boys will help you find Howler, but right now I need you all to stay put. Something is happening. Your father and grandfather are on their way to the Chain." A dark shadow flicked across her face. "Reeve, tell your sisters what you told us."

  Reeve nodded curtly, his face pale and serious.

  "Werton," her mother directed the captain of the guards. "Split the guard. We have to comb the castle for signs of entry. Something got in during the night. Something unsavory. I will go upstairs myself."

  The tall captain of the guards gave a brisk bow and hurried toward the courtyard and his garrison.

  "Stay together," her mother told the siblings. "Stay safe." She gave Tokara's hand a squeeze before she let go.

  Tokara knew her mother was a warrior, a famed warrior, but she had never seen her manage a real crisis. For a moment, the young girl wasn't sure if she should be scared or thrilled. And she didn't know if she should try harder to assist her mother. The castle and its dwellers were the responsibility of the family, and she felt it was her duty to help if some mischief had befallen their home. She looked to her older brothers.

  Reeve whistled sharply. His trill was followed by the thundering of paws scrambling up the kitchen stairs. The pack of nearly identical brown hounds, absent the copper puppy Howler, danced around the children and ferociously snuffled the floor in front of the fireplace. Four dog heads scooted Niadh aside unceremoniously. The young page gave up feeding the fire; instead he petted the dogs and then made his quick escape down to the kitchens.

  While their mother hastened up the grand stairs, sword drawn, Rask and Reeve shuffled around indecisively, wanting to obey but barely keeping themselves from following behind her. All four children looked at each other, at a loss.

  Caia's eyes filled with tears. "Momma," she breathed.

  Fear for their mother's safety grabbed a tight hold of Tokara's heart; she could barely breathe.

  As if answering her unvoiced plea, a dozen men-at-arms rushed in from the courtyard and followed the lady of the castle up the wide stone staircase. The soldiers too were fully armored and equipped.

  Rask put his hand on Tokara's shoulder. "That must have been scary," he said and motioned to the minstrels' gallery. "Seeing them like that."

  "They looked frozen," Tokara tried to explain but couldn't convey the horror she'd felt seeing Neyla and Zennia stiff and propped against the wall — utterly helpless. "I don't know if they're frozen, bewitched, maybe even . . ." She couldn't say the dreadful word.

  "I'm scared for Neylie and Zennie too," Caia piped up. "But Howler is all alone, and I have to find him." She grasped both of Tokara's hands. "You'll help me," the little girl implored. "You love him too. I know you do."

  "We all love Howler," Reeve said gently before Tokara could answer. He lifted Caia and set her down on a bench in front of the fire. Without waiting, the hounds crowded around them, overwhelming them with licks and soft nudges.

  "We'll go look for Howler," Reeve reassured her, "but first we have to tell you what happened in the Chain last night." He took a deep breath. "When you ride up to Garganey Lake, you pass by three villages of the Chain—"

  "Brunn, Irmel and Ginster," Tokara rattled off. Her father traveled the Chain every season, visiting each village and each farm, and she knew his route by heart.

  "Last night," Rask said gravely, "while we were on the lake, someone—"

  "Or something," his twin interrupted.

  "Or something." Rask pushed his ink-black curls out of his face. Both boys favored their father, except when it came to their eyes. All the Deldano siblings had eyes the same unique shade of green as their mother's. "Something . . ." He didn't seem to know how to continue.

  "A group of riders from Ginster sought us out at the lake," Reeve jumped in. "They arrived a little after midnight. You see, we'd stopped by the village on our way to the lake, so the villagers knew we were close. They asked for father's aid."

  "We followed them back to Ginster." Rask swallowed hard. "The whole village was awake and gathered in the town square. The lit torches looked like a lake on fire. Everyone had armed themselves with anything they could grab — pitchforks, shovels. Anything."

  "And of course, like all of the villages in the Chain, Ginster has a lot of old veterans from the Nelminorian war. They were armed to the teeth and ready to jump to it." Reeve's eyes gleamed. "A good number of magic wielders among our folks too. I think a few said they'd followed Mother back to Kharakhan after the Battle of Dunfar."

  "So what happened at the village?" Caia asked, impatient to search for the pup.

  "The village had been raided while most everyone was asleep," Rask said, head shaking back and forth in disbelief. "The village watch was found frozen and stiff. Three young warriors."

  "Blue like Neylie and Zennie?" Caia squeaked.

  The children all looked up at the minstrels' gallery where their mother was now standing in deep and quiet conversation with the healer.

  "Aster will help them," Tokara tried to reassure Caia, though she herself felt uncertain and completely out of her depth. She knew it was possible that the two servants were beyond the help of a healer.

  "It turns out that whoever . . . or whatever got past the guards," Rask finished up the tale, "took a lot of valuables from all the villagers. Coins, jewelry, loose gems, furs, and every barrel of honey mead."

  "Somebody has a sweet tooth." Reeve chuckled.

  Caia shot him a dark look. "You can laugh again when I have Howler back, but not until then!" she said imperiously and stomped her foot.

  "That's not all," Rask edged in. "Father wanted to make sure we got home safely, so he rode back with us, through three links of the Chain. And every town we rode through had also been robbed. In the same way."

  "And you forgot the strangest part," Reeve added. "Whoever . . . or whatever did this took all the bells."

  "The bells?" Tokara frowned.

  "The silver solstice bells."

  "Every single one," Rask confirmed. "From every single front door. And the great bells from every village sanctuary and from the roadside shrines."

  "That's why Mother is so worried," Tokara said, troubled.

  "If whoever or whatever broke into the castle as well . . ." Reeve patted his dogs' backs and flanks. "You'd think these hounds would have raised an alarm . . ."

  "If whoever or whatever can raid three villages and a castle successfully in only a few hours without being seen by anyone, then what makes you think the dogs could have known to raise an alarm?" his twin argued back.

  "I think someone did see," Tokara said. She looked up to the minstrels' gallery where her mother and Aster stood in conference, blocking the handmaidens' frozen forms from view.

  "Father and grandfather are on their way back through the Chain," Rask said, acknowledging her words with a nod. "Mother said she'd join them as soon as the castle was sorted, but I don't think that will happen anytime soon."

  "We should tell Mother your idea about the maids." Reeve considered. "If they were frozen so they couldn't raise an alarm, we might not be dealing with a murderer."

  "But what if the freezing kills them, even if whoever or whatever didn't mean to?" Tokara asked. She wished she hadn't said the words out loud.

  Caia looked miserable. "What if Howler saw the monster? What if it frosted . . . frozened . . . freezed him somewhere? We have to find my puppy!" Her eyes leaked tears of frustration.

  "Mother said to stay here," Reeve reminded her.

  "Mother said to stay together and to stay safe," Tokara said. "As long as we stay together, we could look around the castle a l
ittle. Can't we?"

  "The castle is safe," Caia agreed, tear-streaked face shining with hope. "Momma is upstairs . . ."

  "You're still in your sleep clothes and house boots," Rask pointed out. "How about you and Tokara stay here, and Reeve and I will take the dogs around. They'll be able to sniff out Howler."

  "That wouldn't be staying together." Tokara didn't like her brother's plan very much.

  "We'll be together in the castle," Reeve said quickly. "And Caia will be much happier if we find Howler quickly."

  Caia nodded.

  Whistling for their dogs, Reeve and Rask set off toward the stone stairs that led to the lower part of the keep.

  Tokara watched them leave. She snuck an arm around Caia. "You're not going to stay put are you?"

  Caia shook her head.

  "And I can't stop you?"

  "You'd have to knock me out and put me in chains," Caia said sincerely.

  "We need warmer clothes." A plan forming in her head, Tokara pointed to Rask and Reeve's discarded fur cloaks and bags.

  Chapter 3: Winter Woods

  In the blue light of morning, the winter woods looked like a powdered sugar-covered confection. Fresh snow blanketed the ground and covered up any hope of tracking Howler's footprints.

  Caia didn't seem aware of the setback, but Tokara worried. In her mind, the puppy rescue mission had been very clear. She imagined that as long as they could avoid the guards on their way out, they could circle the castle until they found dog tracks in the snow. She had hoped Howler's telltale prints would lead them straight to wherever he was holed up.

  Initially, everything had gone according to plan. On the far side of the castle's stone curtain wall, they'd sought out a slightly wide arrow loop, wide enough for a small girl to fit through. Tokara had discovered the convenient opening in the wall during a ferocious game of hide-and-seek earlier in the year.