by H. A. Harvey
“I’d hoped you’d find me here, Autumn.” He murmured as he wrapped an arm around her soft shoulders.
She smiled in response and whispered back, “If that’s what you want to call me.”
Nian’s eyes snapped open to find Riona curled up against him. He leapt to his feet and hurled her off of him with a cry that had half the wolves on their feet with weapons drawn in an instant. They settled slightly when they saw none of the escaped slavers had come back. Nian glared at Riona.
“By the twelve, what do you think you’re doing?” He shouted.
Riona grimaced in pain from the bruises she’d received earlier in the evening, “I thought that was why you kept me.”
“I kept you to fight and help get Karen back.” Nian snarled, “After what you did, how could you think I’d touch you? Even thinking about it makes me sick. I am honestly hoping you’ll die somewhere along the way to get her back because I can’t think of any use you’ll be afterward.”
Riona shrank back miserably as Nian berated her. In the stunned silence that blanketed the camp afterward, she turned and dashed into the woods. Kolel met Nian’s eyes with his own before shaking his head sadly and walking after her as David stormed over to meet Nian.
. . .
Riona stepped gingerly up to the edge of the quarry, staring into the inky black below. She imagined the blackness swallowing her up, pushing away everything else. That’s what she wanted, no, what she needed right now. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath then let it out slowly. A soft cough came from behind her.
“I do just that at times.” The voice purred, “When the world gets wild and I start to slip beneath the waves, just be still and breathe. It has a remarkable effect on one’s perspective, don’t you think?”
Riona opened her eyes but didn’t turn around, she stared into the abyss before her. “That’s not what I’m doing.” She said flatly.
“It isn’t?” The voice replied apologetically, “Well in that case, I beg your pardon for speaking out of turn. I tend to do that too, leap to conclusions before I have quite all the facts. Please, by all means, carry on with what you were doing, I shan’t interrupt.”
Riona stood and waited, met by nothing but silence.
“Are you still there?”
“Yes indeed, my dear.” The voice chimed in immediately.
“W-well,” Riona stammered, a little flustered, “Are you going to try to stop me?”
“Of course not, dear girl.” The voice pledged, “I said I wouldn’t interfere, and we are nothing if we cannot keep a simple promise.”
“You didn’t promise.”
“You know something funny about that?” The voice retorted, “I didn’t learn the word promise until I left my homeland. We use Hearthspeak there a lot like here, but we just never heard of the word. There, it’s expected that if you say you will do something, then it is as good as done. But if it makes you feel better, I promise I won’t stop whatever it is you are working on doing.”
Riona nodded to herself and stood still for a moment, “I don’t suppose you could go away?”
“I hadn’t planned on it, it’s a rather pleasant evening and I thought I would work on finishing my star-count. Haven’t done it in a while you see, I’m afraid I’ve fallen a bit behind.” The voice continued its purring speech, “Why, am I bothering you?”
“Yes,” Riona started, but immediately shook her head, “I mean no, not really. I just can’t do this with you watching.”
“Well, it is my experience, that if you are doing something that you can’t bear for someone to watch,” The voice retorted, “That thing usually ends up being something you shouldn’t be doing at all, and often regret immediately.”
Riona sagged and began to weep, “All I have is regret. That’s why I have to fix what shouldn’t have been. He should have just let me die.”
“No, he shouldn’t have done anything of the sort.” The voice replied dismissively.
“I thought, when he saved me, that it meant something. Maybe I could make it right.” Riona sank to her haunches and wrapped her arms around her knees, “But if I can’t, if he saved me just because he hates me so much he wants to torture m-“
“Nian doesn’t hate you, my girl.” Kolel said as he walked up softly and sat next to her, dangling his boots over the edge of the cliff. “Nian saved you because, at his core, he is quite a decent young man, with the potential to be a great man. But he is also, at his core, an animal like the rest of us. This morning, he was wounded, and you represent a very tangible reminder of that pain. Tonight, like any animal that has something that wounded it thrust upon it, he lashed out, as you might expect a wounded beast to do.”
“If my being around hurts him so bad, then it’s better if I weren’t around.” Riona countered.
“Easier.” The Sattal replied, patting her hand, “Not better. He is healing, you are seeking redemption. Neither process is supposed to be easy, quick, or comfortable.” As Kolel finished his reply, he looked down at her hand, noticing the sleeve of her shirt fell well over it and let out a bemused chuckle.
“I don’t think it’s funny.” Riona snapped.
“Oh a thousand pardons, dear girl.” Kolel purred apologetically, “I was not laughing at your dilemma, well not the overall one. But speaking of comfort . . . you are rather like a child who’s borrowed her father’s clothes. If you like, I have a cousin back home who is a master tailor, I could help tighten this up a bit.”
“Aren’t you from leagues and leagues away?” Riona asked.
“Quite, over mountains, desert, and sea. Why?”
“Well,” Riona gestured vaguely toward the horizon, “How is your master tailor cousin way out there going to help fix clothes here?”
“It’s actually more that direction, my dear.” Kolel pointed Clockward. “But I meant I may have picked up a stitch or two, and I’ve no tailor shop, but I’ve a surgeon’s needle, some silk thread, and a sharp knife.”
“I just have to take my clothes off for you then?” Riona asked suspiciously.
“I will admit to having used that ploy in my younger years.” Kolel chuckled. “Just the trousers, and until we fix the shirt, it’s long enough to be a short nightgown on you anyway. If it’s chilly, wrap the wool cloak around your knees. Come.”
They sat in the starlight chatting while Kolel worked. The Sattal seemed to have underrepresented his talents with a needle, for the trousers were finished quite quickly, and fit as though he had measured them. There were enough strips of heavy material cut from the trousers to place along Riona’s shirt, forming a sort of patchwork vest that laced to pull the fabric in around her much like a bodice.
“There,” Kolel stated with satisfaction, “Hardly a ball gown, but not bad I think, considering what I had to work with. I’d say you look more fit for the road now.”
Riona stood and stretched, examining and feeling the drastic change the little merchant had been able to work in what seemed like a handful of minutes. She turned about and, feeling almost like she’d gotten a new dress, decided to give a small twirl. She stopped short as she turned to see Nian looking at her from a few yards away, hands clasped behind his back.
“I was hoping to speak to you, Riona.” He looked over at the Sattal, “Alone if that’s alright, Kolel.”
“That depends, my friend.” Kolel answered evenly as he stood and dusted himself off, “Whether or not you have grown any wiser since you last did so.”
Nian lowered his head and replied quietly, “I hope so.”
Kolel eyed Nian a moment in silence, but at Riona’s small nod, he sighed and bowed to her, sweeping his hat low between them. “Very well. Lady Riona, I hope you enjoy the fit.”
Kolel righted his hat and nodded to Nian before walking back into the tree line. Nian stood awkwardly, not sure exactly how to start. Riona finally broke the
silence.
“How long have you been watching us?” She asked.
“Ah,” Nian paused, “I actually just got here. I went back to the ledge first, thought maybe you went that way.”
“What do you want?” Riona pressed, “You wanted me gone so I left.”
“Yeah, I . . .” Nian stopped again. This had gone so much smoother when he rehearsed it in his head. “David, one of the prisoners, told me more about what happened to . . . to my mother.”
“Y-your . . . ” Riona, by the pallor of her expression, hadn’t known who Talitha had been until that moment.
“But even counting what happened, it was pointed out that I gave up the high ground, as Ellia put it.” Nian continued, “And that I don’t know what it’s like to wish you could take back a moment. At least I didn’t before tonight.”
“So, you don’t want me dead?”
“No.” Nian shook his head, “I shouldn’t have said that or any of it really. I don’t want you dead, or as a pet, or a slave. I still can’t quite forgive you for your part in what happened, but you saved my life tonight, and I should at least be willing to try. If you want to leave, I can’t blame you, and you don’t have to keep the silly agreement from when we found you. We’ll be at Broadstone tomorrow, and you can leave safely with the others.”
Nian stepped closer and brought his hands from behind his back. In his hands, he held one of Ellia’s light blades in its scabbard. He held it out to Riona.
“But I do need allies. Everyone set in my path so far has had a role to play that I couldn’t have done without. I don’t think it was an accident that we found you when we did. If you’d like to stay, Ellia said you can borrow this to train until we can find you something that suits you.”
Riona stared at Nian for a long while before finally dropping her gaze to the blade. She reached out and slowly grasped the scabbard below the hilt.
“I made a promise, and that fast-talking cat reminded me that it’s important to keep your word.” Riona smiled, “I have to say though. I think you might be wrong about me. I don’t know anything about fighting, just serving drinks and dancing really.”
“Well, I think Ellia’s probably the deadliest fighter here and all she seems to do is dance.” Nian hesitantly held out a hand to Riona, “C’mon, I’m falling asleep on my feet and you can’t be much better. We’ll worry about all that after some rest.”
7
Fire and Broadstone
Tombo shifted restlessly on the broad central beam of the stables. He hated it here. It smelled bad, the food was dry, and there was nothing to do but watch the horses stand around and nap. Well that wouldn’t be so bad, but for the first time he could remember, Tombo had trouble napping. He kept trying to figure out what he did to make his big brother leave him behind. He hated it here, but he’d been told to wait so he would.
Some parts weren’t so bad, he supposed. Tombo couldn’t remember the last time he’d gone without his outfit for so long. He didn’t mind it most of the time, but sometimes when he napped with it on, his leg or arm would get all tingly and strange. And then there was the little bird girl. She brought him juicy fruits every morning and scratched his back in that tricky spot and said nice things to him. Her he liked. Maybe when big brother came back she could go with them. As long as she brought her fruits that’d be alright.
Tombo also decided he liked the bird girl because she was quiet. These others weren’t, always bustling about and yelling for no reason. Like tonight, all this racket outside made it impossible to get any sleep. He thought about dropping down in the straw to bury his head, but then they’d bump him awake in the morning, or a horse would try to eat his fur again. Stupid horses. He hated it here. Tombo finally decided to stay where he was and wrapped his head in his heavy arms.
It wasn’t until a while later that he smelled burning. It was like a forest fire, but smelled worse, like a forest of horse droppings burning. To top it all off, the horses decided to join the racket with their annoying voices. Tombo finally lifted his head to look at what all the loud, stinky fuss was about, resigning to the fact he wasn’t going to get any napping in tonight, which was a shame because night is the best napping time, or a sunny day, or sometimes in a cave when it’s raining.
When he looked around, Tombo didn’t like what he saw. The horse house was the burning, and there were parts of the grass top already dripping fire down on his napping beams and the horses. This was no good, he thought to himself as he dropped to the ground and started making his way outside, now he’d have to wait outside, and if it rained he wouldn’t get any napping in at all. Maybe the bird girl would let him go in her house if it rained.
Tombo’s thoughts were interrupted by a familiar horse sound and rapid thumping. He turned to see the cat man’s skinny white horse looking at him and kicking the swing-wall in front of it. Tombo snorted, the cat man treated the skinny horse like his big brother did him, except for the cuddle naps, but he was pretty sure that was because horses don’t cuddle. He was waiting too. The cat man would be sad if his skinny friend burnt up.
Tombo went over to the swing-wall. He’d seen the people open these, but it wasn’t as easy as they made it look. His big blunt claws kept slipping on the little sticks. Finally, he got frustrated and balled a claw up into a nub and punched it. Apparently, that was the missing step, weird since he never saw the people punch it, but either way, the swing-wall started swinging, and the skinny horse ran forward . . . then it stopped.
This was getting annoying, and hot. The horse needed to go out, but wouldn’t move. After a moment, Tombo saw that the horse had a vine around its neck, and the other end of the vine was all tangled up on a metal stick in its room. He tugged at the vine, but it was a bad tangle, and didn’t move. He’d have to bite the vine. He knew the rules though. Horses can’t go outside without their vines, or the people will yell at them and hit them with sticks and vines until they go back home. So, he bit the end by the tangle, so the horse could keep his vine. That did the trick, now the horse could move and wait outside with hi . . . where was it going?
Tombo stood just outside the horse house and watched as the cat man’s horse hopped over the little wall and ran off into the trees. That’s not good, he thought. They are both supposed to wait there. Well the horse would just have to get in trouble then. Tombo went to lie down on the far side of the yard from the horse house but paused. The people would see the bitten vine and know he brought the horse out . . . if it wasn’t waiting here when big brother and the cat man got back, he’d get in trouble too. He had to get it back. So, as much as he was looking forward to finally getting a nap, Tombo instead went loping into the woods after the skinny horse.
The stupid horse was fast, and kept dashing on through the trees despite Tombo’s attempts to call after it. He chased it for a long time through the woods, barely able to keep it in sight. It had to keep slowing down to weave through the trees, otherwise Tombo was sure he’d lose the horse. Finally, the stupid creature slowed down, and he was able to catch up gradually.
He drew up on the silly horse and stood in front of it as it munched idly on a bit of grass. The cat man’s horse lifted its head and looked at him as it chewed, then walked around Tombo to another tuft of grass. Tombo snorted in annoyance. How to get the thing to go back with him? As the hampan stared in frustration, a snake slithered over his foot. He hated snakes, but when he went to stomp it, he saw that it was the horse’s vine. Remembering when he’d been left alone with the horse days ago, he picked up the vine and held it. The horse stopped eating and looked at him.
As an experiment, Tombo took a step back the way they’d come. The horse followed. He took another step, so did the horse. This was going to take forever, but it was working. Tombo turned to trundle back on three legs, holding the vine with one claw. Suddenly, he paused and sniffed the air.
His nose wasn’t the best, but this smell he kn
ew. That stinky plant that his big brother had picked up and made them carry for weeks. He remembered it well, because when he’d snuck a bite, it had stung his tongue like a mouthful of bees . . . without the pleasant aftertaste of honey. He changed direction and lead the horse through some bushes, which it didn’t seem to appreciate very much, into a small clearing with a pile of stones in the middle.
In the clearing, there were lots of people smells, some blood, and eventually another familiar smell. He’d recognize his brother’s scent anywhere. Suddenly, it all made sense. Big brother knew he hated that plant. He must have needed to get more, so he left Tombo behind so he wouldn’t have to smell it. Big brother always thought of him first. Tombo decided that since they already messed up on waiting, he might as well find big brother and save him the walk back to get them. Tugging on the vine, Tombo lead the skinny horse off into the trees after the smell of the stinky plant.
. . .
Autumn sat next to Adair on the driver’s seat as their wagon rolled along the cobbled road. She noted to herself that, while they didn’t have much livestock, Baedites seemed to have plenty of stone. Only in the golden empire of Ava had she seen roads paved in stone outside the walls of a wealthy town or city. Her eye followed the path of dark stone as it wound its way between the high, stony fields of Broadstone to the city itself. A scattering of small farms with smaller fields lay here and there between the boulders and sparse, dry grasses that grew wild on the cold, arid plain.
It seemed the rumors were true, that plague had passed through the region. Most of the farmhouses stood empty, with fields untended, and only a few commoners came out to watch the brightly colored circus wagon roll its way into the city. The place felt deserted, nearly dead already. She gazed across the Wheelward field as they rolled along in the morning light. Even knowing what to look for, Autumn couldn’t mark the shrubs and tufts of grass that were slowly working their way across the field. Still, she was confident they were there, more than halfway across the open stretch by now if the packs were on schedule.
