A Girl of White Winter

by Barb Hendee

  “That’s all right,” I answered. “I’ll tell you some stories. I know dozens. Would you like a comedy, adventure, or romance?”

  “An adventure.”

  So, as I settled Tristan in the sitting room, Caine took a chair, but I remained standing.

  “There was once a young man who grew tired of his parents and his home and his life,” I began. “He decided to become a sailor and run away to sea.”

  With one hand under his chin, Caine watched me.

  * * * *

  The next morning, I wore the hemmed red dress. Tristan and I made breakfast as usual, but as I began to clean up he said, “Little Bird, come and sit with me.”

  “Let me just finish washing.”

  “Come here now.”

  I went to him and sat at the table. “What’s wrong?”

  “These past two days have been good days, but today, it’s time you take your place among the women.”

  Fear rose inside me. “With the women?”

  “The women here work on many things as a group. You need to take your place with them.”

  I had no wish to be thrown into a crowd of unfamiliar women who viewed me as a foreigner. “No, please. Can’t I stay here with you? Just a few more days. Please.”

  With sad eyes, he shook his head. “I would keep you with me. But it would be selfish and do you no service.” His gaze drifted. “I won’t live forever, and when I’m gone, either Logan or Caine will follow me as leader here, as tórnya. Brida is a good woman, and she has many skills. The women respect her. You must earn their respect as well.”

  Still frightened, I tried to absorb his words. “When you pass away, either Caine or Logan will succeed you?”

  “Yes.”

  “And how is that decided?”

  “By me. It is the first law. A tórnya chooses who will follow.”

  Caine’s words to Logan on that night in the common house came back.

  I think you’ll find that Grandfather would be hesitant to let you question any of the laws. Because if you question the fourteenth law, I may question the first one.

  “Logan believes you’ll choose him,” I said.

  Tristan didn’t answer. “You need to take your place with the women,” he said, “but don’t be afraid. Caine has asked Doris to come here this morning. She will take you.”

  “Who is Doris?”

  As if to answer, a knock sounded on the door. “Tristan? It’s me.”

  “Come in,” Tristan called.

  I stood.

  The door opened, and a lithe, wiry woman of about forty came through the door on quick steps. Her chin was pointed, and her black hair very straight.

  Looking me up and down she said, “Goodness me. She is an odd little thing. Is she not? At least she’s not dressed all in white today. That’s an improvement. People still haven’t stopped talking about Caine dragging her into the common room in that white gown. She looked like something from beyond the veil.”

  She said all of this in a rush, and I had a feeling she normally spoke quickly, but her blunt opinions took me aback.

  “Kara, this is Doris,” Tristan said.

  It was the first time he’d used my name, and I sensed my world had just shifted again. I looked at him helplessly, pleading he let me remain here with him.

  “We should do something with that hair,” Doris said. “It’s not just that it’s nearly white…but there is so much of it. Tristan, do you have a leather tie?”

  “Yes.”

  As Tristan limped to his workroom, Doris quick-stepped to me. “Sit down, my girl.”

  I obeyed, and as rapidly as she did everything else, she began to plait my hair into one long braid. Tristan returned with a thin string of leather, and Doris tied off my braid.

  “Well,” she said, assessing me. “That’s not much better, but it’s the best we can do. All right, my girl. Gather up anything to be washed. It’s laundry day.”

  I was at a loss, and Tristan said, “I’ll get the wash.”

  He left us and returned carrying a large basket with my light blue muslin dress, several shirts, and two pairs of pants.

  “This is all we have,” he said.

  Taking the basket from him, Doris ushered me for the door. “I’ll look out for her, Tristan, and make sure Brida doesn’t swallow her whole, but I don’t know what in the world Caine was thinking by bringing her here, and I don’t mind a bit if you tell him I said so.”

  Then suddenly, I was outside the front door with this abrupt woman and she was leading me down the main settlement path.

  “I’ve a daughter just about your age,” she chatted on, “named Jemma. She travels with Raven and loves her life on the road, dancing in his show. I miss her, but I’ve not the heart to keep her here if she wants to go.”

  She went on talking the entire way to the common house, but she stopped walking and faced me before opening the door. “Now, you’ll need to brace yourself. There are a few of the younger women who aren’t happy about any of this business. Caine may not be the most interesting of men, with almost nothing to say, but he’s in line to be our next tórnya and therefore seen as a catch, and you’ve stolen him right out from under the girls here.”

  “I didn’t steal him,” I said quietly. “He took me.”

  This was first thing I’d said, or rather the first thing she’d allowed me to say, and at the sound of my voice, she actually fell quiet for a moment.

  “Yes…well,” she said finally. “So long as you know what’s waiting on the other side of that door. But I’ll handle Brida for you. She was beginning to hope Caine might never marry.”

  This confused me. “Why?”

  Doris rolled her eyes. “Because Tristan wants a family man to follow him. Everyone knows that.”

  Here, I was so lost that I couldn’t even form a question, and Doris somehow managed to open the door while carrying a large basket that required two hands. Then she used the basket to half push me inside.

  The tables had been moved near walls and replaced by tubs. About twenty-five women bustled about, boiling pots of water on the cook stove and pouring them into the tubs. There were several babies in wooden cradles set up on the tables. Children between the ages of two and perhaps ten ran about the room.

  Brida walked between the tubs, supervising.

  “Not so much, Treena!” she said sharply. “You’ll fill it too full.”

  Several heads turned in our direction…and then several more. But Doris headed farther into the room, and I followed.

  “I’ve brought Caine’s wife,” Doris said to Brida, “and I promised Tristan I’d look out for her. Would you like us washing or hanging?”

  Brida looked at me as if she’d have liked to drop me off a cliff. “She’s probably better suited for hanging. Look at her hands. They’re too soft for the soap.”

  There were three young women in the group, around my age, listening. The girl Brida had called Treena was quite pretty, with dark waving hair, a tiny nose, and smooth skin. She watched me coldly.

  But Doris didn’t react to Brida’s cutting comments and simply nodded. “Good enough. We’ll go help hang.”

  After setting the basket on the floor, she led me out the back door.

  Outside, eight women were hanging lines. A heavyset, older woman with thick gray hair put her hands on her hips as we emerged. Her eyes widened at the sight of me.

  “Is that Caine’s girl? People have been talking, but I’ve not seen her.” Stepping closer, she squinted to examine me. “Good gods. She’ll take some getting used to, won’t she?”

  Nodding in agreement, Doris answered, “I don’t know what Caine was thinking. Poor girl. I heard he stole her from two noblemen in a raid.” Turning, she said to me, “Kara, this is Charlotte. She’s a good sort, and you can trust her.”

>   I was rapidly becoming overwhelmed, but I saw a woman struggling to fasten a line and hurried to help.

  Soon, women from inside began carrying out baskets of wet clothing and sheets. Outside, I helped Doris and Charlotte to wring out and then straighten the clothing as much as possible, and we hung the pieces to dry.

  “Do the women here always do laundry together?” I asked.

  “We gather once a week,” Doris answered. “This is the best way.”

  The work was straightforward, and I liked to keep busy. We hung clothing until we needed to string more lines…and then we hung more clothing. Hours passed quickly.

  By early afternoon, all the laundry was clean and hanging to dry, and we emptied the tubs and stowed them. After a light meal of cheese and ham, Doris informed me, “Now, we’ll move the tables back in place and start on the bread.”

  As we were back inside now, a few dark glances were cast my way, but I stayed close to Doris and Charlotte. The common house boasted both a cook stove and a wood-fired oven. Flour, yeast, and salt appeared from several cupboards. Other women hauled in buckets of fresh water, and we went to work making dough.

  I was skilled at making bread and required no instruction. Brida watched me carefully but made no comment on my work. By the time the loaves of bread were baking, it was late afternoon, and after bringing in the laundry, we started on supper—large pots of goat stew. I was set to chopping onions with Charlotte.

  “How many are we feeding?” I asked Charlotte.

  “Never can tell. There are just over a hundred and fifty people here, but not everyone comes to the common room every night.”

  The pretty girl called Treena glowered at me a few times, but she was not otherwise unkind.

  Though I didn’t mind the work, I missed my quiet two days with Tristan. He liked me for who I was and never made me feel like an outsider. By the time dinner was ready, we were working by the light of candle lanterns, and then the men began arriving, and the common room began to fill.

  Though I tried not to, I found myself continually glancing toward the door and breathed in relief when Tristan came through. He scanned the room with concerned eyes until he spotted me. Caine was right behind him.

  I went to them quickly.

  Tristan asked, “Little Bird, how was your day?”

  Both men waited for my answer, and I sensed it was an important question, but I wasn’t sure why.

  “It was good,” I answered. “We did laundry, baked bread, and then made dinner.”

  “And the women…You spoke with some of the women?”

  In truth, I’d only spoken to two of them, so I answered, “Yes. Doris and Charlotte were kind.”

  My answers pleased both men, and Tristan patted my arm. Caine had dark smudges on one side of his face and the back of one hand. He looked weary, and I wondered what he’d been doing—probably working on the barn’s roof.

  “Let’s sit,” he said, leading the way across the room to a table by a window.

  Logan and Brida had already gathered there, standing beside two small boys, the eldest of whom looked about seven. Both boys lit up at the sight of Tristan.

  “Grandfather!” the younger one called.

  Technically, he was their great-grandfather, but this hardly mattered.

  As Tristan greeted both boys and tousled their hair, Logan stared down with a hard expression.

  “Where have you been? We’ve not seen you in two days.”

  “Where have I been?” Tristan responded. “Home. Kara has been making dinner. She’s a fine cook.”

  This answer didn’t please Logan or Brida, and I said to Caine, “I’ll get your supper.”

  Though I’d been working hard all day, so had he. I could tell that from looking at him.

  Turning away, I went to a long table near the stove where we had set out bowls, spoons, mugs, bread, and pots of stew. There was both water and ale to drink.

  Suddenly, Brida was beside me. “I always get Tristan’s supper,” she said. “Always.”

  With no intention of gainsaying her, I asked, “Would Caine prefer ale or water to drink?”

  “You don’t know?”

  “No, he’s been drinking tea at home.”

  She winced at the word “home” as if it bothered her to even think of me residing in Tristan and Caine’s house. “Just bring him water.”

  In the end, she and I made several trips to make sure everyone had stew, bread, and something to drink, but she made a point of serving Tristan, and I did not get in her way. Then, she and I sat, and everyone began to eat.

  “How was the hunt?” Caine asked Logan.

  His brother didn’t appear inclined to speak to him, but answered, “No deer. We brought back a few rabbits.”

  Tristan glanced into his mug of water. “I think I will have some ale tonight.” Brida began to stand, but he waved her back down. “I’ll get it.”

  As he walked away, I noticed his limp seemed worse. But when I turned back, Logan’s eyes were fixed on me. I’d had men look at me in shock, hunger, and discomfort, but I’d never had one look at me the way he did: with revulsion.

  Looking to Caine, he said, “I don’t know what you’re doing, but you cannot truly mean to call this foreigner your wife? To bring her into our family? Do you wish for sons who grow up looking like her? Undersized creatures, barely larger than children, with pale hair and pale eyes and wrists that would snap like twigs?”

  I dropped my eyes to my bowl.

  “Leave it alone,” Caine said. “It’s not your business.”

  “Not my business?” Logan was incredulous now. “It is my business if you choose to poison our line.”

  He spoke of me as if I were barely human, as if he could snuff out my life and not give it a moment’s thought.

  Tristan returned with a cup of ale, and Brida asked him how the new sheath was coming along. Logan spoke no more of me, but I had a difficult time eating.

  I was afraid of him.

  * * * *

  That night in bed, though I was tired, I had trouble falling asleep.

  “I’m sorry about Logan,” Caine said through the darkness.

  I’d thought he’d been sleeping but was glad for the sound of his voice. “He hates me.”

  “He doesn’t like outsiders. That’s all.”

  “Then why did you bring me here?”

  “I had to.”

  That wasn’t an answer.

  “But I will protect you,” Caine added. “I will. You just need to stay away from Logan. Stay out of his way.”

  I had no response to that and wondered if Caine would say more.

  He didn’t.

  * * * *

  The next day, mid-morning, Doris stopped by for me again, and we set off for the common hall. About halfway there, a commotion up ahead caught our attention. People were hurrying for the west end of the settlement—toward the chute.

  “What is it?” Doris called out to Treena.

  Treena smiled back at us. “Didn’t you hear the whistles? It’s Aiden’s group. They’ve returned.”

  “Oh, good,” Doris said. “Well and safe, I hope.” She looked to me. “Let us go greet them and see what they’ve brought back.”

  Confused, I followed her to the gathering of the people near the mouth of the chute, and then the first of four riders emerged on a sweating horse. One by one, they appeared, all leading extra horses with bags tied to their backs. Then I understood. This was another raiding party, like Raven and Caine’s.

  Treena ran toward the leader, who jumped off his horse at the sight of her. He was in his early twenties with thick arms and black hair to his shoulders. His eyes warmed as he looked at her.

  “Treena,” he said.

  Logan and Caine came striding up. Caine carried a hammer as if he’d b
een pounding nails.

  “Aiden, are you well?” Logan asked. “Is anyone hurt?”

  “We’re well,” Aiden answered, “but we had to run from some of the king’s men. We managed to lose them.”

  “What?” Logan asked. “You didn’t try to steal from the king’s soldiers?”

  “No. What do you take us for? We know to avoid anyone in a purple and orange tabard. We were on our way back home, and they came across us in the forest. They seemed to be searching for something, spotted us, and gave chase.”

  Logan turned on Caine and pointed to me. “They were searching for her! Royal soldiers gave chase to our men.”

  Caine was about to respond when one of the men on watch over the top of the chute called out, “Logan.”

  Caine, Logan, and Aiden strode to the top of the cliff looking down. Caine’s face went pale, and he whirled around. “Get more quivers and bows. Now!”

  People began scrambling, hurrying into a nearby shack and emerging again with long bows and quivers. I had no wish to get in anyone’s way, but I needed to know what was happening, so I walked further down the cliff where I might peer over the side. At the sight below me, I drew in a sharp breath. Riders in armor, wearing orange and purple tabards were coming around the curve of the chute. I counted at least twenty.

  Logan, Caine, and six other men now stood on the edge of the cliff with loaded longbows. Caine’s arm was drawn back, ready to fire, and he’d slung a quiver over his shoulder.

  “Wait until they’re all around the curve,” Logan said. His voice was low, but it carried down the line to the armed men. “Aiden and Bretten, you drop the two rear horses to cut off escape. Everyone else take the soldiers, aim for heads and eyes.”

  Horror flooded through me as I realized what was about to happen.

  Moments ticked past.

  “Fire,” Logan said.

  Arrows rained down into the chute. Two horses at the rear screamed as they were struck at the tops of their throats. One stumbled and fell. The other struggled to stay on its feet. Caine shot that horse’s rider through the eye, and the man fell.

  Panic and shouting erupted in the chute below.

  “Retreat!” called the man in the lead.