by J. Thorn
Vera whimpered when the rest of the pack appeared from the woods and fell in behind the alpha male. She hugged Patience as if trying to climb her to safety.
“Stand your ground and they’ll leave us be.”
“How do you know, you stupid whoring wench? I’m going back to the ship to take my beatin’.”
“If you make towards the ridge, they’ll tear the flesh from your neck.”
Vera cried and pushed Patience to the side. She hitched her skirt up again and turned for the open ground between the wolves and the summit. She jumped for the footprints they had created on the way up. At first, the alpha male held his ground, baring his teeth and no longer concerned about the warning of his growl. The other wolves paced behind him, eager for blood but not interested in challenging for the pack.
“You’re dead, you foolish child,” said Patience.
As Vera reached the summit, the wolf pounced. He bounded through the maze of fallen timbers, covering ground in flight. The girl disappeared under the mangy coat. The rest of the pack followed but waited for the kill and to be told what belonged to them and their cubs. A crimson line erupted from the wolf’s snout and dropped in a lazy arc to the snow, where it turned pink. Patience heard Vera’s final scream before the wolf swallowed it in his jaws. She put her hands over her ears and walked backwards through the snow until her legs struck a submerged log near the river.
The alpha male turned and loped towards Patience like a child in a meadow. The wolf stopped and growled, and Patience closed her eyes and tilted her head back to give the attacker an easy path to her vitals in hopes that it might end as quickly as possible. Patience gulped at the air and opened her eyes to see the wolf pacing, blood dripping from his mangy snout.
“C’mon, you demon. I ain’t stickin’ around to play games with you and that pack.”
The wolf stopped and turned its head sideways. Patience felt the shift before she heard the crack. She looked down to see that she had backed onto the river and that the ice was giving way under her feet. Patience saw the black lines forming on the surface. She rolled onto her side and clawed towards what she thought to be the shore. The wolf chased its tail two times and then ran back up the hill to knock the others off his kill.
A chunk of ice broke free and held Patience in the middle. She scrambled to the edge and looked down into the black water. One slip and the pain ends, she thought.
“Grab this.”
Patience spun and saw a man holding out a branch in her direction. He wore layered furs, looking more like a bear than a man. A beard clung to his face and held the ice crystals around his mouth.
“Do it, girl, or you’ll be tumbling through the mouth of the river when the Season of Life comes back.”
Her red fingers refused to cooperate. Patience willed them to wrap around the branch with a loose grip. The man pulled the branch back, one hand over the other. When the floating ice reached the shore, he took her by the shoulder and lifted her to the firm snow pack.
“The wolves?” Patience asked. It came out in shivered syllables.
“Ain’t comin’ back for some time, but neither is your friend. They gots her in pieces.”
Patience collapsed at the man’s feet as darkness took her vision.
***
She awoke under a roaring fire, surrounded by a black cloak. The air felt warm, but moist. The flames danced around the edge of her vision, and the crackling wood sounded as if it burned under water. She raised the cup, and the hot liquid scorched her lips.
“God damn!” she cried.
“Drink the tea. It’ll help bring ya around.”
Patience took a sip. The bitter herb made her gag, the taste of burnt licorice root soiling her taste buds. She blinked and saw the man’s face above hers. The beard remained, but the ice crystals and hides did not. His facial hair and outer coverings belied a youthful figure. Dirty streaks covered the man’s hands, but his arms remained a glowing white. Patience looked into his eyes and sensed danger, but a sense of humor. She sighed and pushed up on her elbows.
“Ain’t gonna get you no action, that vile syrup you callin’ a tea.”
The man’s face lit. He chuckled, exposing brilliant white teeth and crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes.
“You’re not what I had in mind when I went out fishin’.”
Patience laughed, which fed into a fit of coughing. She sat up completely as the man sat next to her. Her eyesight had adjusted, and she looked around the cave. Several tools of cut saplings sat on the floor. Towards the opening, somehow less black than the other end of the cave, Patience noticed the hind quarters of two deer. The man followed her gaze.
“Probably don’t have to leave until the Dark Time lets up a bit, but a man gets tired of the same taste on his tongue.”
“I imagine he does,” she replied.
“The name is Toman. I’m on the council.”
Patience looked at him with no idea what that meant.
“We make decisions on the Commonwealth. Well, at least we did before the Naturals attacked. And before you folk arrived.”
“With a decent shave you might look young enough to still be wetting the bedroll.”
Toman smiled and tilted his head sideways. “Heard worse insults than that.”
He reached for the cup when his fingers touched hers. Patience looked at him with a guarded smile and released the cup.
“Guess you woulda done so already,” she said.
“Done what?” he asked.
“Had your way.”
Toman shook his head. “Ain’t the Ways we follow. You’ll be safe here until you can make it back.”
“I ain’t going back.”
Toman raised his eyebrows and waited for an explanation.
“They might find Vera’s remains, they might not. Either way, our torn clothing should be enough to convince the captain that they done got us.”
Toman smiled and winked.
“Ain’t gonna find yours when it’s still on yer body.”
“Don’t suppose you can spare one of those bear skins?”
Toman stood and moved into a dark corner. He grabbed two from a pile and thrust them at Patience.
“Ten paces towards the mountains and nobody’ll be seein’ nuthin’,” she said.
“Guess that wouldn’t be proper, now, would it?”
Patience accepted the skins and stepped past Toman and beyond the reach of the fire’s light. She returned a few moments later cradling her clothes in one arm.
“Might I get you to drop these back at the sight of my dear friend’s demise?”
“Couldn’t call myself an upstanding member of the council if I couldn’t help a woman in trouble, now, could I?”
Patience smiled and felt the furs holding the warmth of the fire close to her body. They smelled of animal and burnt hair. She inhaled deeply, savoring the aroma of life.
“When I return, you and I need to resume our conversation.”
“It’s the least I can do for a man who pulled me out of the frozen river.”
Toman nodded and grabbed a wooden spear from the stack of tools on the wall. He walked towards the opening of the cave, where the day had succumbed to cold twilight. His form disappeared. Patience turned to the fire and retrieved her cup from the warming stone at its base. She titled the tea back as the lukewarm liquid ran down her throat. Patience pinched her nose to keep the taste from making her vomit.
She stood and walked to the other side of the fire and saw Toman’s bedroll. Patience needed little time to count the one headrest on it. She dropped the furs to the ground and felt the cold air pinching her naked skin. The bedroll felt like an icy grave until her body warmed the hides. Within a few minutes, her body stopped shaking and she enjoyed the soft friction of the skin on her most private areas. She closed her eyes and waited for Toman to return, hoping sleep would not take her before the lustful urges passed.
Chapter 18
“Enjoy yerself?”
“Sounds as if ya did.”
The captain walked to the edge of the cabin and lifted a mug from the table. He dipped it into the bucket and handed it to Sicklemore, who tipped the mug backwards until the cool water hit his lips. He gulped, pulling it down his gullet in gasping heaves. As it dropped into his stomach, the contents churned and boiled, forcing Sicklemore to thrust his head through the porthole.
“Quite an amateur, it appears.”
Sicklemore turned and threw the mug at the captain. It glanced off the top of his head, hit the wall, and fell into hundreds of shards.
“What did you do to me?”
“Ah, I see. I dumped the rum down yer throat? I forced the ladies upon your loins?”
Sicklemore shook his head. He ran a hand through ruffled hair and pulled his breeches up off the floor. A moan escaped his bedroll, startling him as he stumbled backwards. A slender hand reached out from under the hide and pulled it up over the top of a mess of blonde hair.
“The memory had me many a time, young man. It only means ya have less things to explain for in the morn.”
Sicklemore seized a bare ankle protruding from the bed and yanked as hard as he could. A portly young woman slid out of the hides, her head smacking the floor of the cabin like the report of a cannon.
“Wazizzat?” she questioned, her words slurred together in a syrupy mix.
“Get out,” said Sicklemore.
The woman sat and rubbed her eyes. She looked down at her naked breasts flopping against her arms. She moved a hand down a stone pillar of a leg and inserted it between them.
“Getcha another go?” she asked with slightly less slobber.
The captain walked over. The woman smiled at him, revealing several black spaces created by the scurvy. He reached out with a gnarled hand and grabbed her hair. She emitted a mousy squeak as Russell pulled her across the floor. A line of steamy urine followed the naked woman, fouling the air with a rotten stench. The captain opened the door and heaved. It took him three attempts to get her completely out. When the woman understood the predicament, she screamed and pounded on the door in protest. The sound of stomping boots filled the hallway outside the captain’s quarters.
“Remove the wench,” the captain yelled through the wooden panels.
Muffled cries followed the scuffling like a crab scampering across a pebble beach.
“Now that ya had yer fun, can we speak of the caves?”
Sicklemore stepped over the puddle of piss, grimacing from the stale waft. He placed a hand on his jacket and buttoned the top three buttons.
“Sit,” he said to Russell.
The captain spun a chair around backwards and sat facing the table, his hands folded. His bloodshot eyes glared at Sicklemore and his breath blew out pockets of hot alcohol.
“I think I should show you. Can we go?”
“I think you should explain first,” replied the captain.
Sicklemore shrugged and shook his head. He bent down to pick up a map off the floor when the excesses of the night stole his equilibrium. He collapsed on top of the map in a flurry of waving hands and rumbling obscenities.
“That’s the last time I liquor you up for information. Yer a lousy drunk.”
Sicklemore vomited and stood. A line of yellow drool hung from his chin and his breathing hitched. “Our business partnership just ended,” he said.
The captain stood and punched Sicklemore in the nose. He fell back to the floor with both hands over his face. When he pulled them away, blood covered both palms and dribbled onto his top lip.
“I’ll be the one to terminate the relationship,” said the captain.
Sicklemore stood and spread the map out on the table while tears and blood dripped onto the parchment. “They’ve been living in those caves since they’ve arrived. I kept asking myself why. Why wouldn’t they fell the trees and build a house?”
Russell shrugged his shoulders in feigned ignorance.
“Because they found out that the caves provide transportation through the mountain, thus giving them a monopoly on that trade route.”
“The one with the Naturals?”
“Yes.”
“Why hide it? Who cares? We already know they trade with the heathens. What does it matter how they do it?”
Sicklemore laughed and rocked back on his chair. He saw the captain’s hands ball into fists of stone.
“But the other tribes don’t. It gives the Naturals the advantage, not those of the Commonwealth.”
The captain stood, and Sicklemore flinched. The flow of blood from his nose had slowed to a steady stream. Russell pulled a pipe from his vest and filled it with herb. Sicklemore tried to continue, but the captain held a hand up to stop him.
“Now that we’ve eliminated the Naturals, those trade routes are held by the people living in the caves.”
Sicklemore nodded and smiled, his teeth pink with the blood from his face. “Holding the tunnels is the same as having control over the trade routes in the country. But unlike the old routes, the caves only need to be guarded on one side. They can open or close those tunnels at will, and for any price.”
The captain’s eyes cleared, the bloodshot lines disappeared. “The gatekeepers stand to make quite a fortune for shitting in a cave.”
***
Shella stirred the cauldron as she had many times before. A lonely onion bobbed up and down in the vast pot. Jaithe stood next to her while Brinton and Kelsun went hunting for squirrel.
“Can we stay? I fear leaving here with the fate of Rayna unknown.”
Jaithe scratched his temple with a finger and ushered Shella over to a chair. “The stranger has caused me to reconsider.”
“Sir Ford?”
“Complicated, would you say?”
Shella nodded.
“Suppose the captain is plotting to supplant the recognized legislature of the Commonwealth?”
“Then he’d have no need for the head of its council.”
Jaithe hugged Shella and kissed her on the forehead. “When Rayna finds her way back to our home, we would be here to greet her.”
Shella smiled and nuzzled her head in his chest. “I am not fond of making my home underground, like a wild beast. However, I feel as though now is not the time to abandon our hope for Rayna and the Commonwealth’s future.”
“Well said, Shella. It may be wise to remain and provide a constant during this rough time. The council needs to be restructured to replace those lost in the massacre. The captain may invoke the power of the company, but he is but one man, and we are many.” Jaithe lifted his wife’s chin with two fingers before she spoke.
“Can you remain and still stay true to the Ways? I do not want to prohibit you from carrying out your duty.”
“For now, we will remain. If it is supposed to be, then He will contact me or send a portent. Of this I am certain.”
“Father, you must come,” said Brinton as he bounded into the cave alone.
“What is it?” Jaithe asked.
“Kelsun is gone.”
“Gone where?”
“Gone.”
Jaithe hugged his wife and reached for the rapier on the wall. “Keep the soup on the fire so we will have warm sustenance at our return.”
Shella nodded, submersing the lone onion under the surface of the water simmering in the cauldron.
Chapter 19
Toman moaned and rolled onto his side. He flinched and reached down to touch her arm curled around his waist, and he opened his eyes. The fire had died down to a lowly flicker, casting pulsing shadows on the wall of the cave. He felt Patience’s warm breath on his neck while listening to her rumble the sleep of a clear conscience. He felt the smoothness of her skin under the bedroll and allowed his hand to explore her curves.
“Hmmm.”
Toman shrank lower and found her warm area.
“Again, Toman?”
He grunted and pointed his morning erection towards her. “Be
en a long time since I been with a woman.”
“Seems like you ain’t forgot much.”
Patience and Toman tangled in each other’s embrace until the haze of the Sun God illuminated the front of the cave. Toman lay on his back, snoring in fits and bursts while Patience lay with her head curled on his chest. She drummed her fingers on his stomach until he woke up.
“Did you drop ’em?”
“Yes.”
“Vera?”
“Nothing but a bag of bones, but enough for the captain to realize it was her. I put yours fifty paces away. Left your knickers hanging from a sapling so even a dullard could see them.”
She smiled, and her hand began stroking him.
“The captain will be the easy mark. He got you rights to dead. What about Master Jaithe?”
Patience’s hand moved faster under the bedroll. “Ain’t yet figured out the best way to filch his righteous ass. Need to think on it some more.”
Toman groaned and convulsed as the surge of pleasure faded into soreness. “Nobody knows fer sure what be stashed in the mountain. Just cause he fancied their tongue don’t mean he been in league with them.”
Patience giggled and straightened up so that her face lined with his. “You tellin’ me all that talk with the werowance and his little princess don’t get Jaithe nowhere?”
“I’m not sayin’ that at all. What I’m sayin’ is that we don’t know if he got himself a little treasure buried in the hills.”
“Might he be tempted by the flesh?”
Toman shook his head. “Doubtful. He’s got a woman in his cave mourning the loss of two children and the ‘napping of another. Can’t see why he’d be interested in strange dippin’s at this time.”
“Strange?”
“Other than his wife, I mean.”
Patience slapped Toman’s arm and laughed. “That better be what you mean.”
“So that ain’t the angle to take with Jaithe. We need another.”
“I hear some of the folk talkin’ about the ‘Ways’ and that Jaithe be workin’ hard to please his master.”
Toman shook his head and scowled. “You don’t know nuthin’ bout that.”
