So I guess we'll need to get her using her toes. After all, she won't wear shoes.
He was still smiling slightly at his own joke when a man emerged from the settlement, walking through what would someday be a gate, though now it was only gateposts set in the framework of a partially built log palisade.
"Welcome to Bardenville," the man said, smiling widely. "I'm Ewen Brooks."
Ewen was shorter than Derian, but then most people were. By any other reckoning he would have been considered tall. There was no doubt he was strong. Even with the evening chill gathering, he wore nothing over his short-sleeved smock, exposing forearms rippling with muscle. His brown hair and beard were neatly trimmed, though the beard was worn somewhat longer than was typical in the city.
Fleetingly, Derian wondered if "Brooks" might be a newly chosen surname. It certainly didn't reflect a profession, as most did, and location names were more common in crowded areas where there might be more than one baker or carpenter. He filed that information away for future reference.
"I'm Derian Carter," he replied. Then, deciding that honesty was best, he continued, "I was out here a year or so ago with Earl Kestrel. I've come back with grave markers for…"
He paused, not certain if mentioning the failed first expedition might be taken as an insult to this new venture.
Ewen Brooks, however, didn't seem at all put out.
"For the prince's folks," he finished for Derian. "That's good. We found the burial plot and left it untouched. We'll be glad to have your markers. Kestrel's idea?"
"My own," Derian said. Realizing he sounded affronted, he quickly went on. "I was out by the battlefield at the end of King Allister's War, making markers for the dead. I kept thinking of these people, buried as best we could, but with their graves unmarked. It seemed their spirits would rest better for the remembrance."
"Quite a trip to make for spirits unrelated to you," Ewen said, and from his tone Derian couldn't tell whether the other man thought him foolish or honorable.
"I've brought someone who was related to them," Derian said. He glanced back and found Firekeeper standing alongside the lead mule, so still that she almost vanished in the dusk. "Firekeeper, come and meet our host."
He knew he was stretching the point. Ewen Brooks hadn't precisely invited them to stay, but he had greeted them and had said the grave markers would be welcome.
"Firekeeper…" Ewen said almost under his breath. "That's the… the girl Kestrel adopted, isn't it?"
Firekeeper had advanced, walking a touch stiffly, like a dogùor a wolf, Derian thought with some shockùadvancing on a stranger.
"Blysse," she said bluntly, and her refusal to use her wolf name, what she thought of as her personal name, told Derian that she was less than comfortable with this Ewen Brooks.
"Blysse," Ewen said. "Pleased to meet you."
Firekeeper nodded stiffly.
Derian glanced at her, but she didn't seem to be offering him any specific warning, so he decided to proceed.
"So," he said to Ewen, "I've been on the trail since dawn. Can I have shelter here or would you prefer me to bed down elsewhere?"
Ewen, who had been staring rather fixedly at Firekeeper, shook himself.
"Right! No, don't go. Come in. We don't have stabling yet, but there's corral space enough for your beasts. Nice stock you have there, by the way."
"Thanks," Derian said. "We're testing the mountain horses. They've some qualities my father finds promising."
"And the mules?"
"Tested and first-rate."
Derian spoke without thinking. He wasn't a stable owner's son for nothing. He could almost smell the other man's eagerness to own the mules himself.
Careful, Derian, he thought to himself. These folks aren't in the city with tokens in their pockets or lines of credit to some Great House. They're out here without money and you're here with no one but Firekeeper to keep you safe.
He smiled ingenuously and as he did so, somewhere out in the darkness a wolfùBlind Seer, he was almost certainùgave a long, plaintive howl.
The pack animals snorted and stamped. Derian was certain that if Firekeeper had not resumed her place by the lead animal a few might have bolted. Ewen Brooks started as well.
"Come ahead," he said. "It's getting dark and though the palisade isn't finished, it's better than nothing."
"Had much trouble with predators?" Derian asked, hearing the forced casualness in his own voice.
"Some," Ewen admitted. "Not wolves, though. They're too spooky of a big group like this. Don't like fire neither."
Derian knew better. He'd seen Blind Seer lounging in front of too many hearths, knew that Firekeeper had learned to use flint and steel from a wolf. If the Royal Wolves weren't bothering the settlement, they had their reason.
He wondered what it was and, glancing back at Firekeeper, felt certain that she knew the answer.
THE SETTLEMENT PROVED to be fairly large. Over forty men, women, and children lived in the small community, according to Ewen, and, as Derian quickly learned, more were expected before summer was fully under way.
"We decided," Ewen said when Derian commented, "that we would take our lead from the late princeùthat's why we kept his name for the settlement. Prince Barden didn't come out here with just a couple of families. He came with those who could build, work wood, farm, handle animals, not just a few hunters and the like."
"You sound like you know a lot about his expedition," Derian said.
"I do after a fashion," Ewen replied. "Come this way. There's an old corral we've stopped using since we've built stronger. It'll do for your beasts for tonight at least."
Derian recognized the pole and lashing structure he'd built the spring before. It had been mended, but would serve at least as well now as it had then.
"My elder brother was one of Barden's followers," Ewen continued, helping Derian unload the mules. "He told me stories as I was begging to be taken along with him. I was sixteen, shy of my majority, but my parents were willing to let me go. I think Wythe would have taken me, too, but lung fever swept through our community that winter and I was too weak when early spring came. I meant to follow him out, but then King Tedric…"
Ewen looked as if he were about to spit at the mention of the king's name, but remembered himself in time.
"King Tedric made his proclamation disowning his own son and by association those who followed him. My parents would have nothing of my going then, and though I still thought of going, the same lung fever that had laid me low weakened my father. I didn't have the heart to leave my sisters alone to run the mill."
Miller, Derian thought. I remember a Miller or so among the list that Lord Aksel made up for me. That must be Ewen's brother and maybe his family. I wonder why Ewen isn't using that name? He's clearly had the training. I wonder if his family wanted nothing to do with this expedition either?
He put the thought aside for now. As if Ewen's leading Derian into the settlement proper had been a signal, peopleùmostly adults, though there were a few half-grown children among themùwere filtering out of the houses and tents that clustered around the central square. Most watched silently, and Ewen didn't make introductions.
For the first time, Derian noticed that one edge of that square was a log-walled longhouse, sturdy and solid. It was large enough to serve as a stable at night, if the settlers didn't own too much livestock.
Sounds of babies wailing and small children fussing came from inside the longhouse.
That must be their fortress as well as stable, Derian thought. Defensible in a pinch, especially against wild animals. They must not have thought me much of a threat, but figured to tuck the littler children away, just in case.
By the time Derian's pack train was unloaded and he'd shown Ewen enough to reassure the man that he'd told the truth about the reason for his coming to Bardenville, Derian and Firekeeper were escorted to Ewen's own house.
They carried with them Derian's personal kit, his bedding, and, wrapped inside this
, the small offerings with which Derian had been entrusted by the Kestrels, Holly Gardener, and the royal family. None of these were large and, as was the custom, sentiment was valued over costly materials, but still Derian thought it best to be careful.
Ewen Brooks's house was a log cabin like all the other buildings in the settlement, though larger than most. The one large central room and a sleeping loft above could have held a fair number of people in a pinch. Looking about, Derian guessed that Ewen's house must have been the first built and that it still sheltered more than his immediate family.
The floor was only packed dirt and the windows lacked even oiled cloth to cover them, just horizontal shutters made from boards and hinged with leather. These shutters, however, were sturdily functional and would, even when open, prevent all rain but that driven directly by the wind from coming into the house.
The furniture had clearly been made locally and consisted of three-legged stools and a couple of rough board tables. Sand-scoured pots and pans hung on the wall near the hearth, and a series of shelves held a few serving utensils.
Despite these rude accommodations, the house was comfortable. Some effort had been made to decorate it. Bed quilts hung along the walls like tapestries, and a family shrine held its position of honor in one back corner, a squat candle burning in a holder in front of it.
Remembering how fire had taken Barden's settlement, Derian found himself wondering if some similar homey touch had slain those first colonists.
He shivered at the thought and a pretty woman who Derian guessed was only slightly older than he was hurried over to him.
"Hello! I'm Dawn, Ewen's wife. Let me give you something hot to drink and a seat by the fire. I well remember how wearing a long day on the trail could be."
Derian let Dawn urge him into a seat, but insisted that Dawn make the tea from the supplies in his pack. It was too early in the spring for these people to have been able to much augment the stores they would have hauled across the mountains, and he wasn't about to take advantage of their generosity.
The eagerness with which Dawn accepted his gift confirmed Derian's guess that she was housekeeping on a slim margin. As she prepared the tea, she made introductions all around. Firekeeper was introduced as Blysse. Neither she nor Derian insisted on the title "Lady," a thing Derian thought wise given Ewen's disdain toward the king, a reaction that might extend to the Great Houses.
As Derian had guessed, the cabin was home to other than Dawn, Ewen, and their three small children. Five other adults and assorted children apparently took their meals in the cabin. All assisted with preparations for the evening meal and showered Derian with questions.
It was clear to him that although most had been out west only a few moonspans at mostùand the majority for a moon or lessùthey viewed the land on the other side of the mountains as a foreign place, a curiosity. Ewen had chosen his fellow colonists well. At least in this sample, Derian saw no sign of homesickness, only excitement regarding their great adventure and, especially among the younger men, a slight condescension toward him as one who wasn't taking part.
I wonder how they'll feel when winter comes, Derian thought, irked by a particularly thoughtless comment regarding his own journey. It'll be different when new supplies can't begotten in by cutting back across the mountains, when the only faces they see are those in this small community, and when the snow is hip-deep. For them, this is springtime in more ways than one.
Dinner when it was served was quite good. Indeed there was more meat in the stew than a city family might see in a week and broiled fish was included as a side dish. In contrast, for bread there was mounded journey cake, served dry but for a small pot of jam and smaller pats of strong-tasting soft cheese.
"We've a few cows," Ewen explained, "but they're nursing now. We chose breeds known for their hardiness rather than great givers of milk. Time enough when we've been longer settled to bring out finer stock."
Derian agreed. He knew little about cattleùPrancing Steed Stables had moved away even from draft oxen, except by contract.
"Feed must be a problem," he said, thinking of what he'd packed just for his own animals.
"Cows aren't as choosy as horses," Ewen replied, "and goats less than either. We opted for more goats than anything else. We're also planting oats for when winter comes and hope to import some. Oats are good for people as well as animals, as is corn. For a time, we'll be doubling up with the creatures, though we'll be eating mush and porridge rather than grain."
"Hunting's good, though," spoke up Hart, a youth a few years younger than Derian who was some sort of cousin of Dawn. "If it weren't for the wolves we could fair harvest the deer and elk like any other stock."
Ever since their arrival, Firekeeper had kept silent, looking about with interest, her dark eyes unreadable in a deliberately impassive face. Derian had done his best to help her, knowing that the wolf-woman was shy when confronted with strangers, leading the conversation, asking many questions, and hoping she would be forgotten.
From the silence that suddenly fell after Hart made his comment about the wolves, Firekeeper had not been forgottenùnot at all. Derian held his breath, knowing how fiercely loyal Firekeeper was to the wolves. They, not any human living, were her family.
Firekeeper said nothing, however, affecting to look drowsy, and the comment passed without incident, though Dawn offered Derian some jam for his journey cake rather more quickly than would be usual manners. In a raised voice, she started telling him about her plans to start hives if she could find the bees. Honey, she said, would provide sweetener and sugar.
"Later," Ewen cut in, his enthusiasm for his projects robbing his words of the bragging note of some of the other men, "we'll tap trees for sugar or grow beets, but honey will do for now. I plan for us to be a self-sufficient community. Trade from the east will be welcome, but we've brought enough with us so that we shouldn't be dependent."
Derian wondered if Ewen had been as thorough as he believed. He might have been, if he'd been daydreaming about this project for more than ten years, ever since his brother planned to make a similar journey with Prince Barden.
Indeed, Derian thought that Ewen might have talked on into the next morning if Dawn had not hinted rather strongly that other members of the household needed their rest. A few of the young men, Hart among them, went out to sleep in the barnùapparently their usual place, Derian was glad to see, for he had no desire to displace a young buck and have him put out about it later.
Derian offered to go with them, but Ewen and Dawn would not hear of it. He was given a place in front of the hearth, where the coals, banked for the night, still gave off a pleasant glow of warmth.
Firekeeper would have been offered the same, but during the general confusion of comings and goings, she had slipped outside and did not return. Derian excused her, saying that she was woods wise and could take care of herself. However, he had a feeling that every word he said somehow damned his friend in his hosts' eyes. Silence seemed the better course of action and he adopted it, yawning broadly in a manner that wasn't entirely feigned.
As he drifted off to sleep he heard the distant howl of a wolf. Oddly enough, it comforted him.
FIREKEEPER FOUND THE EVENING SPENT with Ewen Brooks and his household incredibly disturbing. It was not just being closed into a small, somewhat smoky room with people she didn't know, nor was it that Blind Seer was not with her, nor even was it that she longed for the moment when she would be reunited with her family.
Memories surged beneath the surface of her thoughts, memories she hadn't even suspected she had and so were all the more disturbing for their gentle stirring.
Surely she had spent many hours in a room much like this one. Surely she had listened to similar conversations. There was a note in Ewen's voice as he spoke of his dreams that she had heard before, a barely suppressed passion so intense that she felt that the passion in and of itself should have been enough to make the dream come true.
Although the
wolf-woman longed to flee, she made herself remain, listening, watching, learning.
She remembered all too well the stories she had heard from the Royal Beasts the previous autumn, stories that held their history of their encounters with humanity. She knew as none of these humans did that the Beasts had long memories and would resent this new settlement as they had resented little else.
As Ewen prosed on, almost worshipfully evoking images of hot bread baked in their own ovens, of tools crafted at their own forges, of mines dug in the western face of the mountain to supply iron, and of fields so bountiful that winter hunger would be laughable, Firekeeper found herself wondering for the first time why the Beasts had tolerated Prince Barden's settlement. Would they tolerate this one for the same reason? She resolved to ask the Ones just as soon as she could.
When Dawn Brooks began arranging for sleeping accommodations, Firekeeper slipped out the door. Only one of the long-bodied hound dogs drowsing in the yard noticed her going, and he swallowed his own baying alarm in response to her growled warning.
Shadows dark as puddled ink hid the wolf-woman as she raced toward the tree line. Once under the shelter of the trees she slowed, knowing that none in the human community had the eyes to see her. An owl hooted from a tree and she paused, wondering if it was speaking to her, but it proved only a Cousin, diving after mice foraging at the edges of the cleared field.
Once her eyes adjusted to the moonlight, Firekeeper easily found a game trail and paced along it. She didn't know yet where the wolves were denning, but they would find her. Blind Seer, at least, could be counted on to do so. Nor did he disappoint her. The wolf-woman was still breathing deeply to get the scent of smoke out from her nostrils when Blind Seer pounced at her from the shadow of a squat evergreen.
Quick as the wolf was, Firekeeper heard the sound as his paws pushed against the ground and was ready for him, bracing herself so that rather than knocking her flat as he had intended, he found himself caught in her arms. She couldn't hold himùhe was too large for thatùbut it won her points in their undeclared game.
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