He leaned forward, grabbing for the basket lying next to the floor. He took out a ball of yarn and began to unwind it, spooling it around his hand before wrapping it on to the other.
I watched him as he began to form a strange pattern. When he’d first started this pattern, it had been odd for me to see, but I had seen him doing the same thing over the last few months. It was his way of staying distracted, keeping his hands moving when his legs didn’t want to work . It helped him deal with the frustration from not being able to work the farm the way he once had.
I missed the man he’d been before the accident. I missed his lessons, the way he’d guided me through how to care for the farm, how the King’s Road had been built, and even some of his more outrageous stories that couldn’t be true, stories about dragons he’d seen and power he’d felt.
There was a time when my father had been quick to compliment, much like he’d been quick to laugh. After the accident, all that had changed, much as his personality and his memory had changed. He was a different man, far different than the one I’d known when I was young, and probably far different than the man my mother had married.
My father looked up, the yarn now wrapped almost entirely around his hand like a glove. He stared at me. “Why did you go over there, anyway?”
I sighed, smiling at him. “We saw something.”
“We?”
I suppressed the frustration bubbling up within me. I couldn’t push it all away. This was my responsibility. And Joran wondered why I couldn’t leave.
My family needed me. It was more than just Thenis who needed my help. My father did, as well. Mom kept him occupied most of the time, but there were times when she got frustrated, and couldn’t keep up with him. There were also times when she didn’t want to keep up with him. It was sad to admit, but sadder still was the fact that I didn’t blame her. I only had to deal with it for short stretches at the end of each day, keeping myself occupied with my chores otherwise. She had to deal with it constantly. Every day. And she would have to keep dealing with it.
“Have you taken your medicine today?” I asked as gently as I could.
He glanced to the table before looking back over to me. “That isn’t going to do much of anything,” he said.
“It can help.”
I got to my feet, stopping at the table and looking at the different medicines that a local wise woman had provided for my father. None of them had really made much of a difference, but we were all too hesitant to stop them for fear that whatever minimal benefit there was would be lost if we did.
I grabbed the jar of the dusty white powder. One spoonful twice a day was supposed to help, though he didn’t like taking it. “Do you want it now or after dinner?” I asked.
“I’m not taking anything,” he said, grimacing when he glanced at the table.
“James,” my mother’s voice said from the kitchen, “don’t give Ashan such a hard time. He’s just trying to help you. Alison, see if you can get your father to take his medicine.”
I looked back to see my mother pointing a spoon at Alison.
“I can do it,” I said.
She frowned at my father. “Just take the medicine. Dolores said it’ll help you get stronger.” She looked over to me, her frown deepening.
“I’m not taking anything, Emily. I don’t have to. I’m feeling well enough, anyway.”
“If you’re feeling well , then it’s because of the medicine,” I said. I took a seat next to him, and held the jar in hand. The medicine was kept in a simple clay pot. Thankfully, the lid kept most of the smell trapped inside, though now that I sat here with it on my lap, I could practically taste the awful aromas that drifted out of the pot. I had tried it once before. I didn’t feel good about forcing my father to try medicine I wasn’t willing to taste, so I knew it tasted just as bad as it smelled.
“Would it help if we put it in your stew?”
“I’m not taking it,” he said again. He started unwinding the yarn from around his hand, staring out the window.
The storm was finally coming to an end. I still had to get out to the barn and feed the horses, but perhaps if the rain abated, I would do it before we ate.
Getting to my feet, I carried the jar back to the table and set it there. Alison glanced from the kitchen, looking out at our father before turning to me. “He’ll take it.”
I nodded. “I know.”
“It’s going to get better.”
I didn’t have the heart to tell her that I didn’t see that happening. Not for him. Not for Thenis. Even though it had only been my father and Thenis who were injured in the accident, we’d all been affected.
As I reached for the door leading back outside, my mother grabbed my wrist. “You don’t have to go out there. You can stay until after dinner.”
I looked past her, toward the back room. “Let me finish this up so that I can be done for the evening. You’re going to need help with both of them, I think.”
“Alison can manage, Ashan.”
Alison again. I looked to her, and found her standing in the kitchen, her back rigid.
“I know you can manage with Dad, but…”
I didn’t know what else to say. Alison could manage, but did she really want to?
I slipped out into the drizzling rain, and made my way to the barn. The distance between the house and the barn wasn’t all that far, but it felt like it took me an eternity to cover. My boots kept getting stuck in the mud, the ground threatening to tear them off as I trudged forward. As the rain slicked down my neck, running down my back, I suppressed my frustration with a clenched jaw.
Thunder rumbled in the distance. It sounded like it had moved to the west, likely beyond the city of Berestal. From there it would head out toward the Wilds.
I paused at the entrance to the barn, finally sliding the massive doors open and stepping inside. Adela looked over to me from her stall , neighing softly. I made my way over to her, reaching through the bars and patting her on the side. There were times when petting Adela was my only comfort.
I couldn’t help but feel a little guilty at coming out to the barn while my father wrapped yarn around his hands, and my brother sat in his room, looking out the window. At least I could get around on my own. I didn’t need the help of others to walk, like my brother, or help remembering what I’m supposed to do, like my father. “I told Mom I needed to help you,” Alison said.
I turned, smiling at her. The rain had slicked her hair back and had left her gray dress stained. She still wore her apron, and her hands were stuffed into the pockets, as if she had some secret hidden there.
She needed to get out of the house, I realized.
“That would be great. I could use a little bit of help.”
Alison joined me as we brought hay into each of the horses’ stalls. That Alison had come out to help told me just how much she struggled. I realized today must've been worse than normal.
“Has he been bad today?” I reached through and patted Tilly on her flank. She was a sturdy mare, and had once been my brother’s horse. I doubted Thenis would ever ride again. Even if he did, Tilly might be too much for him.
“No worse than any other day,” Alison said, tossing hay into another stall.
“Mom seems as if she’s struggling more than normal,” I said. I crossed my arms over my chest as I watched her. She made a point of avoiding my eyes.
“Probably,” Alison said. My sister rested with her arms on one of the stalls, her head leaning against the barn wall, looking through it as she inhaled deeply.
“How are you?”
“I am as well as I can be,” she said.
“That’s not all that convincing.”
Alison turned. Tears stained her cheeks, running down her face. She wiped at them, smearing a bit of dirt across her face. “What am I supposed to say, Ashan? That it’s tiring chasing our father around all day? Because it is. His mind is like a child, you know. But he doesn’t see himself that way. He sees himself
as the man he once was, so he goes off, thinking that he can do things he can’t. Sometimes…” She squeezed her eyes shut. “When you were gone today, he got into the barn. He started to move some of the livestock. ” Alison shook her head. “I hate to think what might’ve happened had I not been there.”
“I should’ve been here,” I said softly.
“You can’t be here all the time, either. You shouldn’t have to,” she said. She turned and grabbed for more hay , her back to me.
“I didn’t need to go off and investigate anything.”
“If there’s something unusual, then you didn’t need to go off and investigate it. That’s just the thing. You are doing what you need in order to provide for us on the farm, but it’s…”
“Tiring,” I said.
She took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as she straightened. “It’s exhausting.”
“At least Thenis doesn’t take that much effort.”
“Not that you would think, but he requires a different sort of attention. He needs for us to feed him. To bring him to the chamber pot. To bathe him. Change him if he has an accident. That happens too often these days. I don’t know if he’s getting worse, or if he has simply stopped caring.”
It bothered me that she would describe it in such terms, but even more troubling was the fact that I simply hadn’t seen that side of things. I knew my brother had been difficult, but I hadn’t realized that it had gotten to the point where my sister and my mother felt overwhelmed.
“Eventually you’re going to have your own family,” I said.
“I don’t see any way that I can do that and leave the rest of you alone.”
“I’ll take care of them,” I said.
Alison tossed the last of the hay, her hands trembling. “That shouldn’t fall on you.”
“It’s got to fall on someone. Might as well be me.” I took a deep breath. “We’ll figure out how to manage without you.”
“I don’t know if Mom can manage without me. She won’t do it now,” Alison said softly. “Maybe it’d be better to sell the farm and move to the city. Mom says there have been offers, but she won’t do it.”
“We’ll make it,” I said.
“Will we?”
I opened my mouth to argue, but Alison turned away, heading out of the barn and leaving me alone again.
I stared out into the night for a moment, looking at the ever-darkening sky, and couldn’t help but feel as if Alison might be right. She deserved better, though. She deserved an opportunity to live her life. She didn’t need to suffer because of an accident that was no fault of her own.
What did I deserve, though?
3
The vast emptiness of the plains stretched in front of me, as I crouched down in front of a pawprint on the ground. The recent rains had made the ground soft and soggy. As I lingered here looking at the print, I frowned to myself. The thing was enormous.
I glanced back toward the farmhouse. It was barely visible in the distance, a trail of smoke rising up from the chimney This print was too close to our home.
Straightening, I looked over to the barn, and the pen with the livestock. Not only close to the home, but it had been close to the animals. That was our livelihood. I’d chased wolves away from the livestock many times over the years, but none this size. If the wolf had come this close to the house I would have to track it down.
This would have been a job for my father and my brother. I didn’t mind, but still wished I had a chance to know more than the farm—not that I’d ever share that with my sister or mother. This was my responsibility now. My task.
I followed the pawprint. I didn’t have to go far before I found another. Farther than I would’ve expected, though. The wolf had a massive gait that chewed up the distance. Maybe that was all it was. I wasn’t a skilled tracker, not like my brother had been.
The pawprints took a meandering path as they headed up the hillside. When I was on the other side of it, the only evidence of the farm in the distance was the thin trail of smoke still rising. I was far enough away now that I didn’t expect to see the wolf. It seemed to have head back toward the forest. I looked out into the distance, but didn’t see any other movement. There was no sign of the wolf. I didn’t know whether to be disappointed or relieved. With a wolf this size, I wasn’t sure I wanted to encounter it with only my bow. Still, it would have little trouble tearing through our herd.
I had quite a bit of work to still do today, and didn't have the time to worry about the unknown. As I reached the top of the hill heading back toward the house a tall, slender figure in a deep green cloak caught my attention. They were coming from Berestal.
Travelers along the King’s Road weren’t uncommon, but it was rare to see someone that I didn’t recognize. Especially a single traveler. There were rumors that some traveled through the dense jungle of the Wilds, though doing so was dangerous. The creatures living there were said to be worse than the camin that wandered the forest near my home, and though there were no Djarn, the natives were ruthless hunters, quick to slaughter anyone who came through their lands.
The man must have seen me , as he turned, veering off the road and making his way toward me. Had he gone a little further, he would’ve reached the farmhouse, so in that respect I didn’t mind that he made his way toward me. Normally, we had plenty of notice if somebody approached the house from the King’s Road.
He wore a long leather overcoat that looked far too hot for the weather, though it might provide some shelter from the rain. A wide, brimmed hat perched on his head that tilted slightly forward, hiding his face. As he approached, the overcoat shifted, and I caught sight of the hilt of a sword underneath his coat.
It was possible he was one of the Vard, but he didn’t have the look of those who sympathized with the Vard in Berestal. They tended to have a triangular symbol with a crescent moon over it. His skin was dark, but it was more suntanned than olive. He had a scruffy brown beard, not the deep black of the Vard I had encountered over the years. But more than that, the Vard never traveled alone.
The man stopped about a dozen paces from me. “Can I help you?” I asked.
He tipped his head back just enough for me to catch a glimpse of his eyes. They flickered over to the farmhouse before looking back to me. “You live out here?”
“It’s my family farm,” I said.
The man nodded. “You live here long?”
“My whole life,” I said.
The man nodded. “It’s a bit isolated.”
“Not too much,” I said. “A half a day’s ride at best to Berestal. Close enough to the forest to make life interesting, and there are plenty of other farmers out on the plains.” We were one of the few who had land so close to the King’s Road. It helped make it easier for us to transport our goods into the city, but it also meant that we had travelers like this.
“What kind of livestock do you have?”
What kind of a question was that? “Nothing for sale,” I said.
The man pulled his hat off, wiping his sleeve across his face. He had faint wrinkles in the corners of his eyes, and long, lanky brown hair. “You have a long walk if you’re heading through the forest to the capital,” I said.
The man regarded me for a moment. “Long enough.” He wiped his arm across his forehead again, before turning and sweeping his gaze around him. “Have you seen anything strange around here recently?”
I bit back the first response that came to me, that seeing him was strange, but ultimately just shook my head. “Nothing other than a massive wolf that came through here.”
“Wolf?”
I shrugged. There was no harm in sharing that. “You might need to be careful. I have a feeling it headed toward the forest. Biggest pawprint I’ve ever seen.”
The man nodded slowly. “I’ll be careful.” He popped his hat back on his head. “Say. I don’t suppose you’d know a man by the name of Jaketh? Settled out here a while back. An old friend of mine.”
I shook my head. “There are a lot of people who settled out here,” I said. “Especially when you get closer to Berestal.”
“Not in the city. Outside.”
I shook my head again. “The name doesn’t sound familiar. I wish I could help. How do you know him?”
“We trained together long ago. I thought I might visit him while I was here, but… Well, it was never going to be easy to find him. He disappeared.”
I nodded, not quite sure what he meant
“There is quite a bit of daylight left. I need to keep moving.”
“Be careful along the road,” I said, as the man walked away. He paused, glancing back at me. “Rumor out of the city is that the Vard have been moving.”
The man frowned. “Do you have much trouble with the Vard?”
“Not usually. We are far enough outside of Berestal, and far enough on the edge of the kingdom, where we don’t have the same protection.”
The man glanced to the sky. “Not too many dragon riders make their way out here, I suppose.”
I grunted, shaking my head. “Not many at all.”
The man looked off into the distance. “A massive wolf, you said?”
“That’s what it looked like.” I motioned behind me, toward the pawprint that I’d seen. “Best be careful, if that’s the case. Wolves don’t generally harass us out here, but if they get hungry…” I shrugged. “It’s been a pretty wet season so far, though it’s finally starting to dry out. Now that it is getting drier, things can move. Not just wolves, but the deer and lopal they hunt.”
“I’ll be careful,” he said.
I just nodded. I glanced over to the farmhouse, thinking of how my mother would chide me if I didn’t offer this traveler some hospitality. I’d rather get my chores done for the day, and would rather not have some stranger imposing on us, but I had been raised better than that.
“If you’d like a hot meal before continuing on your travels, my home isn’t far from here.”
“I appreciate that, but I need to keep moving.”
“Stay safe.”
He glanced back at me as the sun shifted, sending strange shadows covering his face. “You too.”
The Caged Dragon (Cycle of Dragons Book 1) Page 3
