by J. K. Barber
“Sasha!” Katya replied, even though the question had been directed at Jared. “He almost died last night. He needs time to recover.”
“I’m sure in a couple of days…” Jared began.
“Hush,” Katya said, cutting Jared off. “You’re hurt and you need time to heal.”
“He’s awake and we need to get moving,” Sasha fired back. “This isn’t the place to overstay your welcome.’
“She has a point...” Jared tried to say, only to be cut off again.
“I know what I’m talking about, sister,” Katya replied, the familial designation sounding a touch less than affectionate.
“And we’re not talking about the same thing, Katya,” Sasha retorted. Jared could recognize the red-headed woman’s temper was beginning to rise.
“Look, there’s no reason...” Jared again attempted to enter the conversation, only to be verbally ridden down like a mouse before an onrushing oxcart.
“Well, I’m not going anywhere until I’m sure he’s fit to travel.” Katya gestured vaguely in Jared’s direction.
Sasha jumped to her feet, her action mirrored by her darker-haired sister. “Look here...”
“No, you look here...” Katya all but shouted.
“Both of you look here!” Jared said as loudly as he could, from the forest floor at their feet. Each started to speak again, but Jared cut them off as quickly as he could. “Apparently, I almost died last night. While I am happy that you both seem concerned about my wellbeing, either in regards to my current health,” he nodded his head towards Katya, “or by removing me from future danger,” he inclined his head to Sasha, “the facts of the matter are this: I can’t go anywhere in the state that I’m in.” Katya began to smile but Jared continued. “However, we only have enough food for a couple more days split amongst the three of us, so we will have to start moving soon.” It was now Sasha’s turn to start smiling. “Now, if the two of you are done arguing over me like I can’t hear you, I think I’ll take some of that Sleepwell you offered me, because my chest suddenly feels like it’s on fire.”
Katya immediately dropped to her knees besides Jared, concern on her face, and started checking him over. Satisfied that he wasn’t bleeding profusely from anywhere, she folded the paper holding the narcotic herb and shook it into the waterskin. Sasha, at least, had the decency to look mildly embarrassed at being called on their sisterly squabble, before she walked over to the tent and unstrapped from her pack the long bundle that she had carried all the way from Snowhaven.
Jared took a long swig from the drugged water, tasting the mint of the Sleepwell strongly on his tongue. He gently leaned his head against the tree and waited for the medicine to take effect.
Sasha walked back over to Katya and handed her the bundle. “Here, you left this at home. I thought you might want it,” Sasha stated more bluntly than she probably intended.
Realization dawned on Katya’s face, and she clawed at the leather thongs that held the fabric in place around the long slender object inside.
Jared looked up at Sasha, his head already beginning to swim. Sasha saw the question on Jared’s face and simply nodded towards where her sister had finally freed her gift from its wrapping.
Resting in Katya’s hands was a length of white wood that Jared recognized as ash. It had been smoothed and polished until it all but glistened in the filtered sunlight. Jared guessed it was almost of a height with the young woman, who now held it, and had been carved along its entire length with sigils that he did not recognize. Katya gripped the staff firmly and closed her eyes, breathing in deeply. Jared thought the ash wood glowed for a moment, but it could have been a trick of the light… or the Sleepwell that was rapidly doing its work. He barely felt the pain in his chest now, and the ache in his head was completely gone.
Katya glanced up at her sister. “Thank you,” she breathed. All animosity over their disagreement was gone, and there was only genuine affection in her voice. “I can’t believe you brought this all the way from Snowhaven for me.”
Sasha regarded her sibling with a tenderness that Jared had never seen from the swordsman. Katya stood and embraced her sister in a hug that spoke of fear and loss, but also of love and relief. As tightly as she hugged her sister, the raven-haired sorceress still kept a tight grip on her staff.
“What’s tha’ for?” Jared slurred, his tongue feeling heavy.
“It’s my channeling staff,” Katya said as she slipped regretfully out of her sister’s embrace, as though her answer was explanation enough. She read the confused look on Jared’s face and continued. “It helps me focus energy, so that I can use more precisely.”
“Yeah,” Jared said. “We wouldn wan you all unfocused and throwin lightnin round willy-nilly now woul we?” Jared chuckled once and then gave himself over to the drugged water. The waterskin slipped from his hand, as he fell into a restful slumber.
Jared’s eyes fluttered open, as he inhaled the smell of food being cooked. Opening his eyes further, he saw a small pot suspended by a small length of rope from the intersection of three sticks. The setup was familiar to Jared, as he had done it several times in his travels. He recognized the pot, from which the smell of some type of stew was drifting to his awakening senses, as his. He smelled tubers and seasoning, but no meat, and his stomach rumbled in response. Jared realized that he was very hungry.
What was not familiar was the method by which the stew was being heated. There was no fire beneath the cooking container or anything to indicate that a fire had ever been there. However, the water inside the stewpot was simmering nonetheless. Looking around, he saw Katya sitting beside the small cauldron, murmuring to herself and adding small quantities of herbs from a pouch. Looking closer he noticed that the pouch, much like the pot to which the herbs were being added, belonged to him as well.
“Anything else you’d like to borrow while I’m asleep?” Jared grumbled, a bit harsher than he intended. His head was still a bit muddled from the Sleepwell-laced water he had taken.
The young sorceress turned to look at him, shook her raven-haired head, and then returned to what she was doing, never saying a word to him. Still murmuring, she tightened the drawstring on the pouch in her hands and placed it atop Jared’s belt, which rested on the forest floor beside her.
Irritated at his dismissal, Jared began trying to slowly sit upright, wary of his wounds. Surprised when he felt no pain, Jared pulled open his shirt to examine his chest. Where before there had been a tender pink scar of a fresh injury now no such wound remained; there was only a smooth hairless patch of skin that hurt no more than the rest of his body. He tested his recovery even further by sitting up and rotating his right shoulder. Other than a slight soreness, as though he had simply slept on it wrong in the night, his chest seemed to be in perfect working order. Even the dagger wound along his back was healed.
He looked again to Katya who was studying him, the stilted light of the forest playing odd tricks as it struck her. Her hair, so black that it almost absorbed the sunlight that fell upon it, was an odd contrast to her alabaster skin, which took that same light and reflected it as an almost unearthly glow that could have easily come from within as without. Her eyes, the same shadowy brown that he had noted before, caught some of the light from her skin and twinkled as she watched him. For some reason, the expression on her face reminded him of a child opening a present. There was a newness and delight there that was evident, even in his semi-drugged state.
Ceasing her muttering, the sorceress asked, “Feeling any better this morning?”
“Surprisingly, yes,” Jared said, pulling his shirt open again to expose the bare patch of skin on his chest. “Your handiwork?” He asked.
The young woman turned her eyes back to the stew, and Jared saw a bit of color seep into her ivory skin. “There was more healing to be done, so it was taken care of while you slept.”
Another thought entered his mind, and Jared gave it voice. “How long have I been out?” Jared stretched h
is other limbs, noticing a stiffness that often accompanied long sleep. However, having never been healed by sorcerous means before, Jared did not know what to expect.
“We kept you asleep another day while you recovered. Some of the healing energies come from the person themselves, and given the extent of your injuries, we thought it best if you slept more.” A flutter of black wings flew, sailing around the trunk of one of the massive trees surrounding them, and alighted onto Katya’s shoulder. A large black raven gently adjusted his grip on the fabric of the young woman’s robes and then stared at Jared, the curiosity evident in its eyes. Jared looked at the raven momentarily, as his weary brain finally caught up to speed.
“Another day?!” Jared shouted and attempted to leap to his feet. Given the impediments of a blanket, sluggish muscles, and a head still groggy from the Sleepwell he had been given, he only managed to bring himself to a kneeling position.
Katya rose herself, much more gracefully than the woodsman, and moved quickly to his side. “Easy now,” she said. “Take it slow. You’re probably still pretty weak.” Placing her arm around his waist, Katya attempted to help Jared to his feet. Jared waived her off though, so she stepped back. The raven, who had managed to hang on during Katya’s movements, regarded Jared from his perch on the young woman’s shoulder.
Wobbling, Jared managed to regain his feet and placed his hand against the trunk of a tree for added support. Years of practice driving his movements until they became routine, Jared did a quick survey of the campsite. The tent was still where they had left it the night before. No, two nights ago, Jared had to remind himself. He had lost a day to the Sleepwell, and it was not a feeling that the tracker felt comfortable with. His backpack lay beside the tent, as did his boots, bow and quiver. Stacked neatly beside his boots were his hunting knife, his boot knife and the other two smaller blades he usually kept secreted behind his belt and on his wrist. He saw another pack that he recognized as Sasha’s, as well as her shield which leaned against it, lying next to his beside the tent. He saw Katya’s staff lying on the ground next to where she had recently been sitting and beside it he saw his belt, from which hung a myriad of leather pouches.
Fatigue, combined with his lack of familiarity with the forest around him, was enough on its own to make Jared wary. He shrugged his shoulders, feeling none of the familiar accouterments that he was used to wearing. “Where’s my sword?” he asked, slight menace to his voice.
Katya’s eyes widened a bit as she took an involuntary step backwards. Good job, moron, Jared said to himself. Scare the poor girl you’ve come to rescue. Katya pointed to the tree that Jared had been leaning against. Looking down, Jared saw his long curved sword leaning against the trunk.
“Sasha thought it best to keep it near you, just in case…” The young woman’s words trailed off, as she looked down to where her staff lay, as though calculating how quickly she could get to it.
Jared took a deep breath and relaxed his posture. Without thinking about it, Jared had moved his body into a defensive position, shoulders turned and knees slightly bent. To her credit, the young sorceress had immediately recognized the stance for what it was and reacted accordingly. Jared stood up straighter and forced himself to relax. Giving over to his instincts at this point would neither do him, nor the sisters, any good. In fact, it was likely to get him another burst of arcane lightning in the chest.
Another thought entered his head hard on the heels of his previous one. “Where is Sasha?” he asked, hoping it sounded more like a casual question and not a demand.
Katya relaxed, though she kept a respectful distance between herself and Jared. “She is out getting some more water. She should be back soon.” Gesturing towards the steaming pot, she continued. “Would you like some stew?”
“Yes, I would,” Jared nodded, adding a quick, “Thank you.” The hunter sat down cross-legged on top of his bedroll and blanket.
Pulling a small wooden bowl from Sasha’s pack, Katya ladled some of the steaming liquid into it, before handing the food to Jared. “Careful,” she said. “It’s still pretty hot.”
Taking the bowl in his hands, Jared did, in fact, notice a distinct heat coming through the wood. He set the bowl aside to let it cool. “Speaking of which, how is it that you were able to cook this without a fire?”
The young sorceress sat down, her knees folded under her, with her own bowl of stew and smiled over its rim at Jared. Having never had her smile directed at him before, Jared noticed how open and inviting it was. It touched her eyes, making them sparkle a bit, and was completely at odds with the wary look she had been giving him moments before. “Well,” she said slyly. “There are some benefits to being able to work with the arcane.” The black bird sitting on Katya’s shoulder seemed to nod its head in agreement and then hopped down her arm to sniff at the stew. Apparently not liking what it smelled, it leapt from her arm and fluttered away to a nearby branch.
Jared heard someone coming through the woods towards them. He started rise, but Katya shook her head at him and made a hand motion indicating that he should stay seated. “It’s okay,” she said. “It’s just Sasha.” Sure enough, the red-headed swordswoman came walking back into camp, carrying several full water skins and a small bag.
Throwing the bag on the ground beside her sister, Sasha said, “There are the roots you asked for. I hope I grabbed the right ones. You know they all look alike to me.” Untying her sword from her belt, Sasha placed it beside her, just as Jared’s own sword now rested beside him, and accepted a bowl of stew from Katya as she sat down. Seeing the questioning expression on Jared’s face, Sasha answered it with an inquisitive look of her own. When no question came from the woodsman, Sasha shrugged slightly and began blowing on her stew to cool it. “I see you’re awake,” the swordswoman said to Jared. “Do you feel well enough to travel?”
“Yes, but we’re going to need better fare than roots and leaves, if we plan to travel in any direction other than straight back towards Bridgetown.” Jared replied. “We’re going to need some meat.”
Katya jerked a little and began to say something, but she clamped her mouth shut. She looked at Sasha in askance, but then another expression of surprise leapt onto her face. She looked back at Jared, one of her eyebrows arched. “Hey, how did you know there was no meat in the stew?” The sorceress said, “You haven’t even looked at it, much less tasted it.”
Jared picked up his bowl and took a small sip. Satisfied with its temperature and flavor, which was quite good, he admitted, it was Jared’s turn to smile over his bowl at the sorceress. “There are some benefits to living your life in the forest.”
Chapter 20
The day was going to be a hot one, as the sun had risen in a cloudless sky with blazing intensity. Normally, this would bring cheer to the usually cold and cloudy mountain town, but today it was eerily quiet along the walls. The fighting men and women of Snowhaven, well equipped, brave and experienced as they were, looked nervously to one another, everyone noticing the obvious decrease in their own numbers. Mistress Mala and Master Pieter stood on their, corner tower balcony, overlooking the town of Snowhaven and the field beyond, where the mounted leader and his army stood once again, just as large as it was before. They had appeared at the tree line just before dawn and had been standing there motionless for over an hour. Half-a-moon cycle had passed since these raiders had come the first time. Repairs had been made and the wounded tended to, but Snowhaven’s numbers were decreased by half.
“No wonder they didn’t return for two weeks. They were waiting on reinforcements, so they could simply crush us. We are doomed,” Mistress Mala whispered, her face pale.
“Mayhap, but we can’t just let them take the town.” Master Pieter retorted. He inclined his head and pointed with his hand towards the ice orcs, “They will ravage our women if we surrender, not to mention probably eat us.” Shaking off a shiver, he lowered his arm and danger entered his voice, “I won’t allow that as long as I draw breath.”
A freckle-faced town guard came up the tower steps. He regarded her oddly, as if uncomfortable. She simply looked at him expectantly.
“Yes...?” The Master Swordswoman asked.
“Mistress, the people that you requested be taken to safety have been escorted through the tunnel you told us about. We did our best to hide the entrance. If I may be so plain though ma’am, can’t the ice orcs smell them if they get close to that doorway?” Worry creased the guard’s brow under his plain plate helm. His hands fidgeted with the edge of the padded tunic under his breastplate. “My wife and baby boy are with them.”
Concern and empathy knitted her brow, and she put her gauntleted hand on his shoulder, “We can hope they do not catch the scent. They have to get through that gate first though, eh?” She smiled wolfishly for a moment then dropped her hand, reassuming her commanding demeanor. The guard relaxed a bit. “What of The Administrator?”
The guard straightened and said, “He chose to remain in the tower, ma’am.” Mistress Mala sighed heavily, her reaction indicating that is not what she had wanted.
“Thank you for your report, soldier. Fight well,” she clasped forearms with him. He nodded and turned to go. A long, sickly-sounding cry of a horn came from the tree line. The guard pivoted, shock plain on his face and as if his heart had skipped a beat. The foreign army was on the march, moving slowly in their battle groups across the field. A massive, ironbound battering ram on wheels was uncovered and rolled along with them.
