by Jo Fontana
“It’s warm in here and it’s comfortable too,” Illithor noted, ignoring Reyden’s sarcasm.
Deverick nodded in agreement as Emory once again sat down upon entry.
He scooted into a corner and sighed. “Doesn’t anyone believe in high ceilings?”
“Or lights for that matter?” Reyden snarked.
Deverick shot Reyden a dirty look. "They’re plains people, Reyden. That kind of magic doesn’t really exist for them. Their magic is the kind Medicine Woman uses—healing and speaking with their ancestors.”
“Oh, they have simple magic. That explains why they haven’t been carted off to the markets,” Reyden said, understanding dawning on him.
Deverick looked up sharply. "Different does not mean simple. You and Illithor would not find it easy to do what she does.”
“It is said a powerful Medicine Woman is all knowing,” Emory added.
“How do you know all this?” Omaric asked.
“Magic workers aren’t the only ones that read. But I’ve also known Medicine Woman for a while,” Deverick answered.
Reyden rolled his eyes. “No one is all knowing.”
"They’re as close as you can get, Reyden,” Deverick insisted. “It takes time to become so gifted, and Medicine Woman is. I’ve seen some of her predictions come true."
“Really? What predictions came true?”
“She predicted I’d be meeting a group of strangers that I should aid when I came across them.”
Reyden shook his head. “A likely story.”
“You’ll see.”
“That would be a handy talent to have,” Illithor mused.
“Become a Medicine Woman and then maybe you can have it,” snapped Reyden.
"Well that would be impossible now wouldn't it, Reyden?" Illithor responded mildly. "Although I suppose someone with the talent to speak with the dead could come close.”
Reyden paused for a moment and considered the possibility of speaking with the dead. "Now that would be handy."
“You don’t suppose she would hold things against you if she knew you had secrets?” Omaric asked the group somewhat fearfully.
Reyden went over and put a hand on Omaric’s shoulder. “She doesn’t know anything, so don’t worry yourself kid.”
"Don't worry Omaric. She won't kick Reyden out just because he has super stinky feet,” Deverick winked.
Reyden answered Deverick’s wisecrack by removing his boots. A few seconds later, there was a sound at the door and Reyden glanced towards it. He realized with alarm that someone was entering the lodge. Floating Thistle’s face appeared in the opening.
Emory called to her, “Give us a minute, please!”
Reyden took out an egg, waved his hand, and the smell dissipated for the time being. He put his boots back on as she entered the lodge.
"Here is the extra bedding and Sandpiper should be here soon with something to hold you over until the feast.”
“Thank you, Ma’am,” Emory replied as he took a bundle of blankets from her.
"You’re welcome. If any of you need anything, just stop one of us and ask. We will get it for you if we have it."
“I need eggs,” Reyden told her. “How many can you get for me?”
“How many do you need?”
Reyden lifted up his basket. “Enough to fill this.”
“I will see how much I can gather. I will return,” Floating Thistle promised.
“It doesn’t matter what type; I can use any egg.”
“That will make it easier,” she replied with relief before exiting.
“Don’t they knock here?” Reyden asked with annoyance after she left. “I had to waste an entire egg to get rid of the smell because she just walked in here like she owned the place.”
"Knocking is a practice used by those with something to hide. We are an open people," a voice censured Reyden from just outside the lodge door.
"Everyone has something to hide. This openness would get us killed in most places,” Reyden protested.
A woman entered the lodge and said, "You are not in most places, you are nestled in the heart of the Panther Clan and are free to relax and enjoy yourself. We will look after you while you are here.”
Reyden decided to wait and see what she wanted with them before provoking her further. He cared little of her proclamations. He’d be sure to set up a trip wire at the lodge door later that evening. The slight woman carried a small jar in her hand and she walked over to Emory. Her lack of clothing agitated Reyden. He thought that this woman was old enough to be wearing more clothes, like the mothers and grandmothers apparently wore.
Reyden noticed Omaric appraising her so he flicked a pebble at him for being so rude. Omaric huffed and busied himself by pulling out his flute and polishing it. That amused Reyden.
She approached Emory and said, “Let me see the wounds. Please remove your shirt. We will have it mended and returned to you. I would offer you something to wear, but I do not think we have anyone here quite as large as you.”
Emory gingerly removed his top. The woman applied the mixture from the jar on Emory's wounds while speaking her native language in a slow, rhythmic pace. Emory winced when she touched the deeper wounds. She stopped chanting long enough to say, "The salve stings when first applied. I'm sorry, but there is no getting around that."
"I am sure the brave Postulate will be able to suck it up," Reyden snidely snarked.
"A Postulate? Isn’t that something like a guard?”
“Not exactly. A guard’s jurisdiction is limited to the city that they are hired in, Postulates enforce laws wherever they are,” Emory explained.
“I do not believe we have ever had a Postulate in our village before. We have had magic men, some even snarky—but not a Postulate."
Reyden looked unimpressed by her response. "You wouldn't know it unless it was mentioned. It’s not magic men, it’s magic workers. I’m an air and water worker. Illithor is a fire and earth worker.”
The woman looked startled by Reyden’s response. “Workers? The spirits told us that you were all novices, with the exception of Deverick.”
Emory flushed at her announcement and the others looked extremely surprised.
“They’re mistaken,” Reyden growled. However, he did note with some satisfaction the idea that Emory may have been just as new to this as he was.
“Either way, you are both right and wrong. In this case, I already knew of your arrival. But I would have known you to work with magic by the feel of the air when you approached.” To Emory she said, “I will redress your wounds in the morning. It will not take long for you to feel some relief. If any of you need anything, please ask for me.”
Reyden got up to stop the woman. “Ask for who? I don’t have the benefit of doing mind reading rituals to find out who you are.”
The woman halted her exit and turned to face him. Her air was one of barely maintained patience. “Herb Gatherer.”
“The daughter of Medicine Woman and wife to Chief Stone Warrior to be exact,” Deverick interjected.
Reyden half grinned at her. “Pleased to meet you, I’m sure. Reyden Frost.”
Herb Gatherer gave him a cool stare, then turned, and left the lodge.
Reyden noticed his companions’ displeasure when he turned to face them and waved it off. “Where’s that Thistle woman? How long can it take to get me eggs?”
Deverick gave Reyden a dirty look. “Maybe you should go out and get them yourself."
Reyden shrugged. “She can help. We need to leave tomorrow.”
“Agreed,” said Illithor.
“Do you think that guy will be okay by tomorrow?” Omaric asked.
“What guy and why should we care?” Reyden snapped.
“He’s a healer,” Omaric whispered softly.
Reyden reconsidered when what Omaric said clicked. The kid had a good point. They would probably need a healer’s services before this nonsense was over. “Actually Omaric, it would be wise to have a hea
ler come along with us, but I doubt we have anything to offer him.”
“What is it with you and bribing people?” Deverick asked shaking his head.
Illithor paused his reading and looked up. “Maybe he doesn’t need to be bribed. Perhaps he’ll simply have nowhere better to be.”
Reyden thought Illithor’s comment was naive. He guessed that Illithor had never traveled outside of Hollow Harbor on his own. Moments later, they heard someone approaching the lodge.
“Maybe it’s that Thistle woman with my eggs.”
"It is 'that Thistle woman’ with your eggs," an amused voice answered. She stepped into the lodge and handed Reyden a basket of eggs that would more than fill his basket. “You seemed to have a great need for them. I hope this will do.”
Reyden began refilling his basket immediately. “Yes, this will do.”
“Let me know if you need anything else—all of you,” she reminded them.
"Accommodating people aren't they?" mused Emory after she left.
"Not as accommodating as you're thinking," Reyden hissed.
"And what do you believe I am thinking?" Emory asked.
"Never mind, I forgot you were the goody-goody of our little group," Reyden said. "I’m going to see if I can con—convince that healer to join us."
"Why don't you just try asking him?" Deverick called after Reyden.
Reyden paid Deverick no mind and walked towards the lodge Medicine Woman had entered earlier. He stopped and listened at the door for a moment to see if he could determine if the healer's condition had improved.
“I advise you to go with them, Morgan. The spirits say that is where you need to be in order for your skills to improve. In addition, I believe those young men are unwittingly heading for trouble. I can see it all around them.”
“If you advise it, I will go,” a man replied.
“I do.”
There was a pause in the conversation, and then Medicine Woman spoke. “Enter magic worker.”
Reyden stifled an annoyed sigh and walked into the lodge.
"Sit, make yourself comfortable, and meet our friend Morgan," she gestured to the once injured man who was now sitting up and drinking a bowl of broth.
Reyden sat down and gazed thoughtfully at Morgan.
Morgan looked back at the man in black. "Not much of a talker are you?"
Reyden attempted to keep up the pretense that he hadn’t heard part of their conversation. "Not really. However, I’m wondering if you’ll decide to travel with us instead of freeloading off of these people forever."
Morgan studied Reyden a moment then glanced at Medicine Woman with a small smile. “I’ve already thought it over and resolved to leave with your group, despite the insinuation that I’m taking advantage of my friends.”
Reyden feigned alarm at Morgan’s response and sarcastically asked, “You can make that decision, without meeting us, just like that?”
"I know when to follow really good advice. Medicine Woman is one of the wisest people I know. If she had any advice for you, it would be prudent that you take it," Morgan insisted.
Reyden looked unconvinced. “But she doesn’t, so that’s a moot point.”
“Thank you for your confidence in me Morgan,” Medicine Woman said wearily. She looked at Reyden for a moment, and then sighed. “You cannot expect someone to listen to a stranger. So, if I were to tell Reyden that maybe he should trust the actions of the people around him instead of always expecting the worst, he will most likely not listen."
"You're right, I make my own counsel,” Reyden rose to leave. “Well, we’re heading out tomorrow, so get your stuff ready. You might want to come to the lodge to meet the rest of the group."
Morgan hesitated until Medicine Woman prodded him. "Go. I will see all of you again when you come back this way."
Reyden walked out of the lodge, not waiting to see if Morgan would follow. He heard Morgan jog out of the lodge to catch up with him and strode into their lodge smugly proclaiming, “We have the healer coming with us.”
Illithor took his nose out of his book long enough to say "Good!" then continued reading.
Moments later, they heard a knock on the outside of the lodge.
“What are you knocking for? We’re with the Panther Clan and knocking is considered rude!” Reyden snarked.
“I wasn't about to presume."
Reyden was about to say something scathing but decided to hold his tongue. No sense in alienating this one any further than he already had. His life may depend on it. Reyden just harrumphed in response and busied himself with rearranging the rest of his supplies. Then he paused. “Oh right, I’m Reyden, the ever hungry one is Deverick, the gaudy looking kid is Omaric, the brain is Illithor, and the walking wall, I mean the Postulate, is Emory.”
“Nice to meet you all, I’m Morgan Tiller.”
"Glad to have you joining us," Deverick announced jovially.
“Yes, you never know what kind of trouble Reyden will find himself in because of his mouth. He might need a healer soon,” Illithor joked.
Emory let out a laugh then sucked in his breath. “I’m too sore, don’t make me laugh.”
“I’m surprised he hasn’t been beaten up for it already,” Omaric uncharacteristically said with exaggerated astonishment.
Reyden’s face became stony and he stalked out of the lodge. He paused outside and waited to see what the others would say about him. He figured this would be when Deverick would tell the others all about what he had seen. Deverick did not disappoint him.
He heard Deverick‘s voice first. “Hey guys. Let up a little, okay?”
Then the kid spoke up. “He’ll be back eventually.”
Illithor was quick to point out Reyden’s criticism of Deverick’s habits.
Deverick spoke again. “I know. Maybe he behaves like a jerk sometimes for a reason.”
Illithor asked the obvious. "What do you know that we don't?"
There was a long pause before Deverick responded. "Do you remember when I was helping him after his fall off of the horse? I got a good look at his back and it looked to me like he spent some time in a torture chamber."
Reyden was furious at Deverick for his betrayal and stomped away, not wishing to hear any mocking taunts. He toyed with the idea of making Deverick walk part of the way when they left the next day. Reyden would have avoided the lodge for much longer had he not run into Medicine Woman who requested that he gather the others for the festivities.
Reyden walked into the lodge loudly announcing that it was time for the feast so that he didn’t have to hear any of their wisecracks. The others followed him to the middle of the village where it looked as if the entire Panther Clan population had gathered. Tables were set up with baskets that overflowed with bread and fruit. Wooden platters and bowls offered a wide variety of meats and vegetables. The delight on Deverick’s face was evident as he eyed the vast amounts of food with anticipation.
Morgan grinned. “They know how to throw a party.”
Chief Stone Warrior caught their attention and he gestured to them to take a seat near his family and himself. He rose and after a brief welcome to their guests, sat back down, and urged everyone to eat. Once Reyden had stuffed himself to almost bursting, the dancing began. Morgan and Deverick immediately hopped up from their seats to join them. Illithor and Omaric exchanged glances, shrugged, and then followed, moving well enough to keep in time with the drums. Emory watched everyone dance. Reyden felt a gentle tap on his shoulder and he turned to see Floating Thistle’s soft brown eyes looking at him questioningly.
She held out a hand to him. “You will come dance too, no?”
After a slight hesitation, he suppressed a sigh and stood. He awkwardly mimicked their steps and eventually picked up the basics of the dance. Reyden even began to enjoy himself a little, but he kept an expression of mild annoyance on his face. The festivities went on until well after sunset and over time, the crowd dispersed. When few people remained, Reyden harassed the
others into leaving with him.
CHAPTER FIVE
Reyden was the first to wake the next morning. He rolled over and waived his feet around. He chuckled to himself as the rest of his companions coughed and gagged themselves awake.
“Rey-den!” Omaric whined.
Reyden grinned wickedly at Omaric’s disgust.
Deverick threw the covers over his head. "Really, Reyden, I think we’ll have to start putting rose petals in your shoes or something so your feet don’t choke us. Too bad I’m out of herbs."
The others expressed their annoyance at Deverick for running out and Emory grumbled to himself and left the lodge.
Reyden heard a grunt directly outside the lodge and then Herb Gatherer’s teasing voice. "I'm sorry, but I’m still going to put more of this on your wounds so knocking me down won't prevent that."
Emory stammered an apology.
Medicine Woman spoke with exasperation. "You seem in a hurry. Is he at it again?"
"Yes he is. You might not want to go in there, I’ll return in a few minutes.”
"I think I can handle it; some of the medicines I mix do not smell pretty either," Medicine Woman replied and entered the lodge.
Herb Gatherer followed and gagged as soon as she entered the lodge.
Reyden snickered at Herb Gatherer’s sickened expression. “This is why you should knock around me,” he suggested gleefully.
Deverick jumped up and pulled back the skin in an attempt to air out the lodge.
Herb Gatherer smirked at Reyden and shrugged.
"Or, I can be patient and one day catch you off guard."
Her response amused him.
“Is there something you need from us before we set out?” Illithor asked.
"Herb Gatherer is going to redress the worst of Emory’s wounds once more, and I am here to give something to Omaric," answered Medicine Woman as she sat down next to Omaric and handed him a decorated leather pouch.
“What do you want with the kid?” Reyden barked. He wasn’t pleased that she didn’t consult him before approaching the boy, who he suspected would believe almost anything she told him. Reyden glanced over at Morgan who looked unconcerned.
