by Aimee Gross
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Some three weeks later, on a drizzly, grey afternoon I saw the soldiers as I rounded the east ridge on my way down from the nearest cave. Not Da, but a big man wearing a bluegrey Mercedian officer’s tunic, mounted on a bay horse, followed by six soldiers on foot who wore green tunics. They would come to the house on the road they were on, and before I could get there and chivvy everyone up to the cave, too. Wieser walked with me as usual. “I wish I could talk to you like Annora,” I said to her. She gave me the look of exaggerated patience she saved just for me. “Run down to the house and warn them, then!”
She shot off instantly, out of sight down the path and back into the trees. I knew what Annora and Morie would be doing at home. Sitting in their small clothes drying their hair before the fire, because today was the day Annora laundered clothes and washed herself and Morie—she went through these ablutions every week without fail, and I had learned when to come home to avoid catching them at it.
I fairly flew down the path, for I had not brought the mule and wasn’t laden on the way down the mountain. Rain-slicked rocks sent me sprawling twice, scrambling and snatching my way back to my feet. Chest bursting, I careered into the back garden and swatted open the gate. Would they all be murdered? Should I find some sort of weapon? Blast all, why had Da and Wils gone off and left us up here like orphan cubs in a den?
Wieser came bounding around the corner of the house. She looked back over her shoulder, then looked pointedly at me. So I followed her around the stone corner, to find Annora standing on the porch with Morie peeking from behind her skirts. The big man stood in the yard holding his horse’s reins, with his men ranged behind him.
All eyes shifted to me. “Come, Wieser,” I said, still gasping a bit. I mounted the steps to stand by Annora, and felt Morie grasp the back of my trouser leg. Wieser stood beside me. Head lowered, she lifted her lips to bare white teeth and gave a low rumble.
“Yet more children!” the officer exclaimed. “How many does Fenn Lebannen have?”
“Get behind me,” Annora said softly.
“No,” I said back.
“I’ve come up here to speak to Paladin Lebannen. I thought he had sons, grown ones by now.” He scratched his forehead with a gloved hand and looked up at us. “We need to look to my mount and put my men up for tonight. Is your da expected by dark, then?”
I wasn’t going to answer that, and it seemed Annora had not made free with information, either. Why didn’t he know where Da was, if this soldier was on our side? “Who are you?” I asked.
He sketched the fist-to-heart salute of our military, with a corner of his mouth twisted up. “I am Fieldmaster Behring. These are my men, and I’ve been sent to speak with your father, boy. I served with him before.”
“You might meet him coming from the harbour town road,” I suggested, this being my first thought of getting them far away from in front of our house.
“We came up on the coast road and saw no one.” The men standing behind him were large to my eyes, too, though younger and not so hard-looking as the officer. He looked like a dark hawk, with a sharp nose and big yellow teeth. I saw their clothes looked as mud-flecked and spattered as my own, and the young foot soldiers sagged with fatigue. The fieldmaster’s bay hung its head in the drizzle.
The officer sighed and looked over our heads at the mountain. “We’ll stay here tonight. It won’t do to go down the trail in the dark. What’s your name, Donatta?” he said to Annora, as proper to address a maiden.
“I’m Donah Annora Lebannen,” she said, correcting him about her status. “These are my husband’s brother and sister, Judian and Morie.”
He inclined his head. “Judian. Take my horse in out of the chill, if you would. He needs fed and his feet seen to.”
“Don’t your men do that?”
“They’ll be getting ready to be fed themselves. Whatever Donah Lebannen can pull out of the larder for us.” His smile might have been meant to be friendly, but I would not be sent apart from Annora and Morie. Not when it was my job to protect them. Soldiers are always hungry, Da had said. And not just for food … they might be our troops but still, they were soldiers.
I made no move. Actually, I couldn’t, as Morie had such tight grip on the back of my leg. “You’ll find an empty stall, and hay and grain,” I nodded toward the barn. “Set your men to making themselves comfortable in the stable loft and I’ll bring food out. You see the water well, just there. And there’s a vixen and her litter with a den dug in the southwest corner of the barn. They won’t bother you.”
“Ah, son. We’ll want to be by the fire on a damp, cold night like this promises to be. Your da will find us inside when he comes. I know he’ll expect to.” And I saw he wasn’t fooled about Da being on his way home tonight. Whatever I did that showed I had realized this, Wieser’s growl resumed and louder, and the hair on her back rose. When the fieldmaster held out his reins to me, Wieser snarled and stepped from my side to stand in front of us.
“Call it off.” Fieldmaster Behring showed no fear of her, but the men drew back and his horse stamped a hind foot. “Do it now, boy.”
Well, what now? Wieser couldn’t take on seven soldiers—one of them would put a quarrel or a knife in her. I couldn’t get the girls out of here and up to the cave with the lot of them in the house staring at us. Dark was coming.
“I can have some soup ready for your men,” Annora said suddenly. “There won’t be room for them all in the house to sleep, but we can accommodate them for a meal. Let them see to your horse, it needs out of the weather and fed a hot mash. The men will sleep warm enough in the loft straw, we’ve blankets if they don’t. You’ll come in, please, to wait for Donar Lebannen and my husband and the rest.”
“And the rest,” he repeated. He didn’t look as though he believed that, but I found it a good try. I laid a hand on Wieser’s head. She licked her lips and sat, but never took her eyes from the fieldmaster and the hand he held outstretched toward me.
He moved without looking behind him, and swung his gloved hand aside to his men. One of them stepped up and took the reins. He led the horse toward the stable; the rest of the men followed. Fieldmaster Behring pulled off his gloves as he mounted the steps. He reached past us to push open the door, then stood back to let Annora go first.
I have to get rid of them, I thought, as I went through the door with Wieser at my side and Morie still stuck like a burr to the back of my knee.
CHAPTER 5
I indicated a chair by the fire—not Da’s chair—for the officer. I detached Morie gently and sent her following after Annora, and took Da’s chair with Wieser sitting at my feet. Behring and I surveyed each other while Annora set about clanking and chopping in the kitchen.
He leaned forward to say, “You see, son—” when Annora brought a kettle to hang over the fire, stepping between us. Just as well, as my back went up instantly when he spoke.
I was not his son.
“Judian, can you bring more wood?” she asked, turning from the hearth to face me, her back to him. She fixed me with some kind of meaningful look, but I wasn’t sure what she wanted.
I saw she had the kettle full of vegetables to boil, which I expected she planned to add to our supper of beans and smoked meat that simmered over the coals. Annora always made us a flavorful meal out of bits of meat and herbs with a rich bean broth, but even with the addition of her kettle of chopped parsnips, onions and carrots, I couldn’t see it feeding so many.
“Please, let my men bring your wood, Donah.” Behring said with a broad smile, and continued, “I can have them split more for you, to compensate for their meal.”
“There’s no need,” I said. I chopped all the wood we used. The officer had already risen to go call out to his men, though, so Annora and I seized the moment to whisper to each other.
“We have to think of a way to get rid of them,” I murmured.
Annora nodded and reached to stir the beans, saying softly, “If we can just g
et them all out in the barn and off down the road at dawn, that’s the best we can hope.”
“If only they knew something about Da and Wils. I think it’s strange, our own soldiers coming to look for him at home—”
Behring returned to the hearth then, so we could say no more.
Thus, shortly the lot of them settled before our blazing fire, wet woolens stinking and steaming on their backs, while Annora moved about with bowls and spoons and mugs of brew and the soup bubbled busily in the biggest kettle we had.
I saw the young soldiers watch Annora like dogs watch meat as it turns on a spit; their eyes followed her everywhere. When she bent to stir the pot, one nudged another and said something that caused the fellow to snigger. The fieldmaster stood behind the two of them sipping his hot drink, and shoved the speaker in the back with his knee. The man slopped brew in his lap and studied his cup, still smirking.
I had to get shed of them.
“That really smells grand, Donah,” said one who was polite at least. He accepted a slab of hearth-loaf and butter from her.
Morie huddled by the table with a strangle hold on Murr and Iggle, both. I felt my brain churning, but I couldn’t form a reasonable thought about getting them gone from here. All I could think was, their presence would bring more soldiers—maybe even an encampment in our orchard and troops from all over coming here to stage their campaign. And then the enemy would come and fight the war on our doorstep. The heat from our built up fire made me sweat and feel queasy, or maybe it came from feeling frantic but being unable to do anything.
“Judian, would you get more bread cut?” Annora asked.
They certainly eat a great lot, I thought as I stood and abruptly swayed on my feet, feeling dizzy.
“Are you all right? Judian?” Annora stepped toward me, the ladle in her hand dripping soup that the fellow she was serving tried to catch in his bowl by leaning after her.
“I need some air,” I said as I made for the back door. On the back stoop, breathing cool air as deep as I could, I heard the clink of spoons on bowls and soft voices. The fieldmaster seeing to the needs of his men. And it came to me: The officer would want to get his men away from contagion. Of course he would. So, I began to retch loudly. I carried on a bit, then decided someone might check, and stuck a finger down my throat to make something actually come up. Disgusting. Further, I hadn’t eaten since some dried fruit and boiled egg up at the cave. Not much to show, but at least I had been demonstrably sick.
I pushed open the door just as Annora came to check on me. “Judian, what—”
I stumbled a little walking over to the pallet by the fire. This was in fact where Wieser slept, but I collapsed on it heavily. “Oh, give me a blanket. I’ve got to lie down.”
“Are you ill?” fussed Annora, spreading a lap quilt and feeling my forehead with the backs of her cool fingers.
“I’ll be all right in a little.” I made myself shiver just a bit. A couple of the soldiers were watching, one with a spoon halfway to his mouth. The fieldmaster had sat in Da’s chair when I left the room, I noted. He watched me too, but without much interest. I retched again, annoyed.
“Morie, hand me the scrap bowl,” Annora called. Morie sidled up with it, and set it in front of my chin.
I lay there and willed Annora to get what I was trying to do. She paced about finishing up meal tasks, and I shivered and coughed now and then. Morie regarded me soberly, but Wieser came to lie down next to me and fell asleep.
“Judian, do you want to hold Iggle?” Morie whispered.
“No, Morie. I do not want to hold a doll.”
“Only she makes me feel better.”
“That’s fine. You hold her. Can you go away?”
She nodded and put her thumb in her mouth. I hadn’t seen her do that in a long time.
“What’s amiss with you, boy?” The officer stood over me. I grunted. Annora knelt beside me with a steaming mug of herbs.
“Do try a little,” she coaxed.
I moaned and turned my head away. “I can’t now.” Please, Annora. Understand. Come on.
“Oh!” One hand flew to her lips. “Oh, I hope it’s not River Fever. Oh, no. Why does everything have to happen when the men are away?” Ah, good girl! She wrung her hands and looked near tears. She reached for the officer’s sleeve. “Did they have Fever in the south?” she asked him urgently.
“We came down the coast from Chartin. We haven’t been south of Bale Harbour.” He had backed up a step, I was pleased to note.
“It’s the wrong time of year—the Fever comes after the spring floods. Oh, but he acts just like it, how it comes over folks so sudden. He was fine! What am I going to do?” She looked down at me in such despair, I hoped she was just acting along. I coughed for effect, and shuddered. I took a certain savage satisfaction in seeing four of the men stand and inch toward the door. I flailed about to get my face closer to the fire to heat my skin, should some one of them want to feel for a fever.
Annora continued to fret. “So many things happening out of their season. The fox’s litter. Did you see the pear tree? It’s leafing out, and winter is coming.” She tucked the quilt about me. “Even the birds are confused. The ones that should be gone south are hanging about, and the winter birds are—”
“Perhaps the boy should be put to bed,” the officer suggested as he scrubbed at his chin with his knuckles. “Do you need help to shift him?”
“No. I can manage. You and your men should go and get settled. If it’s River Fever … ” She drew the covering aside and bent to help me to my feet.
“As you wish, Donah,” he said, turning to the men now standing in a clump by the door. He ushered them out as Annora walked beside me to the room under the stairs. And if only we’d given a thought about where Morie had got to, our ruse would have had them all out of the house and reluctant to have any more to do with us.
CHAPTER 6
So happy to hear the front door close on the officer and his squad, I almost said, “Yes!” or some such sound of triumph. I coughed instead, but perhaps a bit smugly. When Annora helped me reach the edge of the bed, she put her lips close to my ear and said, “Judian, do you think they’ll go tonight for fear of Fever?”
“No, it’s dark of the moon even if it wasn’t raining. Too dark to head down a steep, unfamiliar road. But they’ll be gone at dawn, thinking we have Fever here, and are no good for a site to fortify. Or stage a battle.”
“What a blessing that you’re clever.”
That made me feel warm in the face. “I had just thought of any sort of contagion. You were great to think of River Fever. That scares everyone witless.”
“I’ve seen it. I lived in the South with my family before I came to Uncle Werrel and Aunt Lorneh’s. The Fever takes many folk every spring.”
I nodded, and lay on the bed quilt, playing my part if anyone cared to look. We kept our voices low, still wary.
“Call Wieser in and tell her to keep watch. I want to know if any of them step foot out of the barn.”
“You can tell her what you want her to do,” Annora said with a smile.
“You’re the one who can talk to animals,” I said.
“Anyone can talk to them. Can you hear what the animals answer back—that’s the difference.” She walked to the bedroom door, and swung it open to admit Wieser, who waited just outside.
“And does she know what I want her to do, having listened at the keyhole?” I asked.
Wieser looked from one to the other of us, wagged her tail, and set out toward the front door. Annora went to open it for her.
“I’d say so,” I answered myself, then sat up to pull off my boots.
Annora said she would get a candle for my bedside, but she reappeared at the bedroom door without one just as Wieser gave her signature thump on the front door. “Where’s Morie?” Annora said. “She’s not by the fire and Murr is in his basket.”
I leapt to my feet and in three strides, crossed to yank the front door
open. Wieser paced on the porch, panting, agitated. “Where’s Morie?” I asked her, thinking about earlier—telling Morie to go away while I acted ill by the fire. Wieser whined.
“Take me to Morie,” I said, as Annora shoved my boots into my hand.
I pulled them on, hopping to keep balance, and followed Wieser out into the drizzle. She led me across the yard to the washhouse. Annora followed close behind with a lantern held aloft.
Under the eaves of the washhouse, we found Fieldmaster Behring seated on the stump chair kept there, with Morie on his knee. She held Iggle up to dance on her lap while she told him earnestly all about Da and Wils and the soldiers they went away with, and how “—we’ve been waiting and waiting and we haven’t seen them in such a long time.” I wiped a wet hand over my face, and felt as if a swallowed stone dropped to the pit of my stomach as the officer looked up and met my gaze.
“Now we’ll go in to sit by the fire and talk,” he said. And what else was there to do?
The officer carried Morie back up the porch steps and into the house, trailed by Wieser, Annora and me. I was sure my thoughts were the blackest of us all. Behring handed Morie off to Annora, telling her to dry her and put her to bed. I jerked out a chair at the scrubbed kitchen table and indicated the officer should sit in it, while I took the one opposite.
Annora returned to find us staring at one another like a pair of tom cats, though neither of us had a tail to twitch.
“That’s low,” I said, “using a little child—”
“Feeling better, are you?” he asked dryly.
“No. In fact, I feel worse, just now.”
“I learned long ago how observant a child can be. No one thinks to ask them what they know.”
“She’s four years old! She doesn’t understand what’s going on!” I protested.
“Neither do you,” he said, scowling. “But I’m about to tell you, as you are in danger here.”
“How can you think I don’t know that?”
