by Aimee Gross
I laughed so hard at Gargle that tears came to my eyes. Gevarr perhaps thought I made sport of him, and threw one of the poles away with a disgusted grunt. He tried to rise again using the other, and I went to help him up. When I had him swaying on his feet, I pulled Gargle out by his stick-like legs, still laughing. Gargle tried to peck me, then shook off snow and flapped to the porch rail to perch and preen, grumbling.
I gave it up as hopeless, and removed the frames for Gevarr. “When you are better, we’ll try another lesson with boots. It takes practice.”
“I heard you planning for Annora to go fetch hay.”
“We had plenty of stored hay in the loft,” I said, pointing at the black ruin of our barn.
“Do not let her go alone.”
“Do you think there are troops on the mountain, still?”
He looked off over the snow pack, upslope. “Maybe, or maybe not. But she is at risk if any should discover her. Even wrapped in heavy winter gear, enough of that fresh young face can be seen. And the way she moves marks her a woman.” He brushed snow off his knees with clumsy, thick-wrapped hands. “You have kept her safe up ’til now, and must have good sense for a half-grown boy to have done so. Still … where is my knife?”
“I have a knife.” Bah, how easily I am surprised into revealing what I should keep to myself. “Yours is put away.”
“Give mine to her. If I’m no use to go with her, at least both of you should be armed. Take your sword, too. The one half again as big as you, if you can wield it. It must be your da’s, eh?”
My breath huffed out in a cloud, and I did not speak for a bit. Into that pause the door opened, and Annora stood on the threshold wearing a pair of Wils’s trousers. Both of us stared at her, jaws hanging.
“You think it’s easy to snow shoe in a skirt? Help me strap them on, Judian, and we’ll go look for sled wood in the barn.”
Gevarr waved me away when I made to shift him back inside. “I’ll wait here and see if I can be of any use in sled-making. I might be able to keep the boards from moving by lying on them as you secure them. A dead weight may be all I’m good for.” He was thinking, then, to aid me in keeping the others safe? Or, thinking if I gave Annora his knife he’d have no trouble taking it from her? I could not trust him easily. I called Wieser to watch him before making my way to the barn with Annora.
We used the axe to bang loose enough boards for a five plank sled, and some shorter pieces for bracing. I was able to salvage a handful of the square-headed nails that had held our fine barn together. I despaired of raising another half so large and snug, when men came home and folk got about the business of living again.
Annora dragged the wood over to the porch, where I had shoveled the drifts away to clear a space to assemble the sled. I continued deconstructing the sagging east barn wall, to free up lumber for a shelter for Dink. I stacked these boards by the trough.
She laid out boards, and helped Gevarr to stand when I returned from my stack of lumber.
“You go in, we’ll manage this,” I told her.
“Another pair of hands will make it go faster,” she said.
“Aye, since my pair of hands are good for nothing,” Gevarr allowed.
“You must take care not to pull on the scar at your neck,” she said. “It’s lucky you didn’t start bleeding again, trying the snow walking.”
“No one likes a scold,” he said mildly.
No, and I didn’t like their easy way with each other. We all worked together in the end, though. Because it was true that all three of us could finish the work quicker than a crippled man and a half-grown boy. Before long we had a lashed-together, cobbled sled I could pull with a length of rope looped over my shoulders. Annora, born in the wide-river land to the south, said it put her in mind of a raft.
“May it float over the snow, then. I need a tarp and more rope, so we don’t shed all the loaded hay as we make our way back from the field.” I helped Gevarr back into his alcove, and then went upstairs while Annora searched for a canvas tarp and lashing rope.
When I met her in the kitchen, I handed her Gevarr’s blade.
CHAPTER 17
A good thing nothing pursued us to the hay field, since there was no way to rush. Wieser bounded beside us; Gevarr swore we needed her senses more than he needed guarding. He even offered to be tied again, so I yielded and left him in the kitchen, with Virda and Morie in their bed chamber with the door locked. Wieser made many detours to plow her nose into small animal runs along the meadow edge. Likely she would bring us a brace of rabbits for the stew pot, so I did nothing to discourage her. Morie carried fond thoughts of the dancing rabbits from this meadow, but if she encountered the meat already butchered and in the gravy she might not recall the twilight magic of months ago.
Gargle tried to ride standing on the sled, but couldn’t keep his balance, so gave up, cawing as he mounted to the sky above us.
We found the remaining haystacks trampled about with horse and deer prints, snow dug away from the bases so the fodder could be reached. I should try to take a deer, I thought. It not being good to live too long on rabbit—not enough fat. I would have a job field dressing a decent-sized deer, though, and getting it back to the house by myself. If I brought the shovel and buried what I couldn’t carry, perhaps. Or built a cairn for the rest of the meat, since the ground was frozen and other predators would find meat buried only in snow. A hunt would take some planning …
Piling armfuls of hay on our sled became a game, as we slipped and slid even in our snow frames. We couldn’t use the poles with loaded arms, and often joined the hay when we tried to throw it onto the sled. I had fed the ropes underneath the planking before we started, and when the pile looked like it would feed Dink for several days, we spread the canvas overtop and secured it.
Gargle had some purchase to steady his ride, then, and settled in with feet gripping the rope for the return journey. “That rabbit is not for you. Leave it be, and get fed at home,” I told him. Wieser had brought one to us while we loaded, and set off on the hunt again. The wind ruffled the rabbit’s fur where it laid, tied next to Gargle’s perch. “Watch him while I pull,” I said to Annora. “He keeps sneaking looks at our supper.”
We traveled no faster going back, though the loaded sled pulled almost like the un-laden, or fair at best. Between my puffing breath and wool-wrapped head, for a wonder I heard the sound in the trees south of the meadow.
The clang of metal-on-metal carries remarkable well.
I halted and wheeled, with a finger to where my lips lay under my scarf. Annora stopped at once and voiced no question. I pointed to the north side of the sled and crouched there with her.
“Did you hear? It sounded like swordplay in the trees there. I want Wieser back from hunting, so I can take her along to check. You stay here out of sight.”
“The sled is sure to stand out if anyone’s looking this way.”
“There’s nowhere to hide it quickly. You have your knife?” She nodded as a sharp clank came again on the frigid air. Wieser came to my side, panting, and whined softly by my ear. “I know,” I said. “We have to go see who’s there.”
The powdery snow did not crunch as I made my way to the edge of the trees. I had to abandon the snow frames there, and crawl forward to peer through the fir boughs and bare larch limbs. I hoped I could find the right place; no more sounds came as Wieser and I approached.
I saw three men under the lower branches of a bare tree, hunched over trying to light a fire with flint and striker. A sword stood hilt-uppermost, jammed in the snow beside them. A fourth man foundered up, arms full of tinder and small fuel. They did not wear uniforms of either Merced or Keltane, but seemed to have blankets and rags drawn about them rather than cloaks.
Were they renegades? I could hear that they spoke, it seemed sharply, to one another, but could make out no words. I would get Annora back to the house and ask Gevarr what he made of it, I decided. I backed out of my position, and had just pushed up to
stand when a cold hand covered my mouth and strong arm gripped me from behind.
I wrenched around, shoving with my left arm and digging through layers of wool with my right for the knife at my waist. Wieser launched herself at the man, setting her jaws on the arm he had slung around me. He cursed, and I over-balanced as he released me, pulling my knife free as I fell backwards. I looked up at him as he wrestled with Wieser, and the face I saw, I knew.
It was Wils.
“Wieser stop!” She loosed her hold on his arm and I struggled to my feet. He was breathing too hard to speak, it seemed. I flung my arms round him, then as quickly pushed him away. “Gods, you stink! Is Da with you?”
“See—” he panted, “how good—you smell after—blast all, Judian, you’re tall! What’s this hulking great dog? No, Da’s still at the border fort, as far as I know. Can we get my men in out of the weather? I’ve been down scouting the house. I reckoned you’d be up at the caves, and thought the chimney smoke was Keltanese troops. They burned the barn?”
“I cannot tell you months of news standing here. Those are your men yonder? Get them and we’ll bring the sled in. Annora will be wondering what’s become of me, she’s over there—”
“You brought her out in the field?”
Moments home and already complaining.
“You get to see her that much sooner,” I started, but he was already setting off where I had pointed. “Tell her it’s you, with the beard and all, she may get her knife out when she sees you coming!”
As I was delayed by collecting my snow frames at the edge of the wood, by the time I got to the sled I found the two intertwined and laughing. “Shush, there may still be renegades out here. Can you get your men and come on?”
I sat on the hay to put my snow frames back on, and found Gargle looking over my shoulder. “I can’t think what use you were in this. Ah, and I see you’ve opened our rabbit while you were waiting, too. Though it wouldn’t have fed so many men, I know.” Gargle croaked as if to say, “well, of course not, so I kept it from going to waste” and hopped back into position on top of the load, ready to be saved the effort of flying home. “Crows know best,” I said to Wieser, mocking him. “Or think they do.” I gave Gargle what I hoped was a repressive look, and went to take up my tow rope.
When he returned from the woods with his men, Wils directed two of them to pull the sled, so I walked behind with the rest. I had been trying to raise the subject of Gevarr without success at getting a word in, besides it being hard to wade through the snow and talk. When we came within sight of the house, I grabbed Wils’s arm. “Let me go ahead. Annora, tell Wils about our—” What was he? Not a guest, an enemy but it seemed not our enemy? “—eh, whatever he is. I’ll make sure he doesn’t think we’re hostages.”
She turned to Wils and I went on. Gevarr met me at the door with the poker in one hand and a piece of firewood in the other. Why had I not thought to hide the fireplace tools?
“Give me that.” I put my hand out for the poker. “My brother’s home, and has some of his men with him.”
“His men? Who went with him when your family fled and you all got separated?” Gevarr said, holding the poker behind his head out of reach.
I stomped a foot. “Are you going to make a stand and crack my head open with all of them outside? Give me the poker, and no, I haven’t told you everything. You are outnumbered now, and not fit, besides. Give it to me.”
He did so, and dropped his club, too. “I wonder what I did in life to warrant this punishment of being bossed about by a boy and a bunch of women?” He glared my way.
“Just go lie down and act like you can’t get up on your own. Wils is going to have plenty to say in my ear about you being here, I’m certain. I’ll go tell Virda and Morie they’re coming.”
“You’ll find them in the cellar,” Gevarr said. In answer to my swinging back to face him, he continued, “I saw a man hanging about outside. I was cursing sending both animals with you, leaving me no way to warn you about him, and persuaded the two to hide in the cellar, in case there was trouble.”
It was going to be a relief to hand all this to Wils. See if he could get this bunch of wood-wits to stay organized and do what he said. I’d just watch. I shook my head, and let Virda and Morie up out of the cellar. Once I shuttled them back to the bedroom, I draped my cloak over the back of Da’s chair. Then I squared my shoulders and waited to face Wils when he came in through the back door.
CHAPTER 18
Wils cast a dark look at the quilt-hung corner, and shed his blankets and rags. He took Annora by the hand, told the men who filed in after him to shout if the soldier moved, and said to me, “Upstairs.”
He began as soon as I shut the door on the three of us. “After you went to all that trouble to avoid the enemy, why did you bring one in to sit by the fire?”
I told him my side of the story from his wedding until he attacked me in the wood, and finished with “… and if you think you could have done better, here’s your chance, because I’m done. If they all do what you tell them, it may be because you have four other men that I did not have, just think of that when you’re in charge.”
We glowered at each other until Annora said, “Wils, you know he’s done a fine job in spite of our … being a lot to manage. And you’ll be wanting to question Ge—the soldier and see if he has information you can pass on.” She won a grudging nod. “Tell us what’s befallen you since you left us. Unless you want me to see to your men first? They must be hungry.” I suspected so, they all looked drawn and pale, Wils maybe most of all. He shook his head, though.
He drew her down to sit with him on the bare frame of the bed she shared with Morie before we were refugees. We had since carried the ticking to the bedchamber below. Annora still had on his trousers, with the knife tucked in the belt of her blouse and her fair hair straying from the coiled plait at her neck. He smiled at her and cupped her chin in his grimy hand.
“How I’ve longed to look at you,” he said, voice as soft as his gaze. I’d have left them alone, but there was no chance of me missing what he had to say about what had happened to him. So, I sat on the floor and drew my knees up.
Wils began his story. “We went west out of Bale Harbour, marching with all the men you saw. The marshal Da was seeking traveled ahead of us, delegating conscription teams and troops to gather supplies. Da and I went from officer to officer, pointing out that a mounted man could never be caught up by pursuers on foot. After days of this, finally one of the procurers found Da a mount—a leggy grey stallion, a fine horse. I hope he has him still. For me, they found a plow horse that shook my teeth loose trying to keep pace with Da. Our new speed brought us closer to the marshal, but always we heard:“Yesterday noon the last of them left,” or “If only you’d been here when they were delayed by rain, day before last.” The procurers were like locusts, stripping orchards and mills, and the folk began to flee for the coast, fearing what worse was coming from the west. So, the tide of refugees began to impede us. They had misadventures at the ferries, and had to be rescued from the current. They broke axles from overloading, they slid off the road trying to travel in foul weather. Da and I tried to help as we could, and persuade them to leave all the stuff they had packed so carefully … their own safety had to be all, in these times.
“Like your Fieldmaster Behring, no one seemed to know if the Keltanese were attacking, or if war only threatened and we sought to turn it aside. Messengers came and went, but who could say if their information was true? Or fresh? Da and I waylaid any couriers we saw, but which had news we could act on with any confidence? There was no way to know. Some folk argued the winter was too close for an actual invasion, others saw the uncanny autumn lingering as a sign the enemy was too powerful to resist, and advocated surrender. We kept seeking the marshal. Da thought he would know, if anyone did, what was truly happening.”
Wils paused a moment, and in the silence I heard a spoon tapped on the rim of a pot and chairs scrape. Savory sm
ells wafted up to us, as well.
“Virda has a nose for hungry men,” Annora smiled. “Because she has all those sons. She’ll see to feeding them below. Do you want something now?”
I did, but Wils shook his head and continued. “We chased that blasted marshal all the way to the border. There, we found he established a massive encampment on our side of the pass, and ran him to ground at the fort that overlooks the trade road. Immense place, built up out of the very bedrock. He seized on Da to lead a negotiating party. They planned to invite the Keltanese over the pass to the fort, Hasseron, it’s called, and threaten to close the road and void all transit treaties if the troops on their side of the mountains were not dispersed. Scouts said they outnumbered us three to one. Those who made it back.
“Da chose the rest of his party but forbade me to come. The other soldiers had thought of me as Da’s adjutant or assistant, few of them knew me for his son until then. I remained at the fort, and had the worst two days of my life, fretting over him. I nearly brushed the coat off his grey stallion. The party took heavier mounts over the pass.
“Late the second night, he and two of the twelve he had left with came tearing up on blown horses, calling for the gates to be opened to them. We turned away their pursuers from the ramparts, before our troops on the valley floor even had time to muster. Da marched straight to the hall and seized hold of the marshal by the tunic-front, shouting it was a ruse, to send the army to the harbour, that Keltane would attack from the northwest route. It was all lies that so many enemy waited over the border at the pass. A show of camps and troops spread thin, with fires and tents multiplied by some magic to fool us. The summer raids along the border, all events were designed to suggest the threat lay in the west.
