Wing & Nien

by Shytei Corellian

  Slightly recovered, Joash repacked what was left of the food and water and headed down the ladder first. Normally, they would take the ladder one at a time, that way, if one of them slipped, they wouldn’t take the other down as well. But in this case, Joash would not take that chance. He’d rather have Wing drag them both down than trust Wing to be able to get down the ladder on his own.

  They made their way slowly. Wing had made it more than halfway down before swaying drunkenly. Joash scurried back up behind him and, grabbing the ladder on either side of Wing’s legs, pressed his body against him until Wing steadied. Progressing slowly, father and son finally made it back to solid ground.

  Upon land once more, Wing turned and leaned against the house, taking his weight off his leg and closing his eyes as Joash went to retrieve the horses.

  Joash was returning with the horses when he saw Mother-Leal Vanc talking to Wing. She must have just arrived and Joash clenched his teeth; she was the last thing Wing needed right now.

  Wing was talking with her, his eyes strained, knees weak under him.

  “Mother-Leal,” Joash said walking up.

  “Father-Cawutt,” she replied. “How close are we with the roof? And the windows on the back, has the glass been fitted yet?”

  Joash was somewhat astonished that Mother-Leal could not tell that Wing could barely stand as she prattled on, her string of questions and demands spilling from her uncommonly self-obsessed brain.

  “I should have the final timbers in place by next turn. Hess’toi is working on the windows,” Joash said.

  Mother-Leal blinked at him. “You’re leaving?”

  “E’te,” Joash said. “I’m afraid Wing is feeling ill, fever and the like. I need to see him home.”

  Mother-Leal looked back at Wing as if seeing him for the first time.

  “Goodness, you do look rather hectic,” she said. “So sorry.” She stepped aside, having had Wing pinned against the side of the house.

  “He’ll be fine,” Joash said. “Some soup and some sleep.”

  Mother-Leal nodded quickly. “Of course. Can I send you off with something? I’ve got some of the fever-herb at the other house…”

  Joash raised a hand to stop her as Wing moved by him.

  “That’s kind, but I think he needs sleep more than anything,” Joash said, glancing at Wing who happily let him take over the conversation, stepping over to his horse and mounting with a pinch in his face. Wing’s grip on the saddle horn told Joash all he needed to know and he made short work of extricating himself from Mother Vanc.

  Wing reined his horse toward Commander Lant’s place, catching Joash’s eye as he trotted up beside him.

  “Well done,” Wing said.

  As if having almost died wasn’t enough, if Leal Vanc had found out the truth of what had happened on the roof, the news of the accident would have spread through the Village like wildfire, the miraculousness of Wing having survived it growing with each retelling.

  Joash kept an eye on Wing as they headed for Lant’s home. The level of his pain was evident on his face, and Joash began to wonder if he would make it. They stuck to the edge of the tree line, hoping to avoid any more Villagers.

  Wing still managing to hold his seat in the saddle, they pulled up outside of Lant’s home and Joash dismounted. Turning the stallion into Lant’s corral, he went to Wing.

  Wing swung down, grimacing, putting very little weight on his right leg.

  Helping Wing to the door, Joash knocked. The door openeing promptly and Pree K’s face appeared on the other side.

  “Mesko Tender,” he said with surprise. “Son-Cawutt.”

  “Pree K,” Joash said. “Sorry about this, but we’ve had something of an accident and are wondering if your Fa is around?”

  Pree K glanced at Wing. “He’s uhh, out. Not sure where,” Pree K added quickly.

  “Do you mind if we wait?” Wing asked. “We hate to impose but…”

  “No, of course not. Come in,” Pree K said, stepping aside to allow them to enter.

  Joash helped Wing inside and onto one of the Commander’s large lounges.

  Wing eased himself down and closed his eyes.

  Joash turned to Pree K. “Can I get some water — and some wine?”

  “E’te,” Pree K said, and Joash followed him into the kitchen. “What happened?” Pree K asked, snatching up a port of wine and taking down a couple mugs from the cupboard.

  “Wing got dragged over the side of the Vanc roof by one of the roof timbers.”

  “Yosha,” Pree K swore. “He fell?”

  “No, that probably would have killed him — it was off the backside, over the river. He managed to catch himself, but the timber was still tied to a rope that was caught upon his leg.”

  Pree K filled the mugs with water and took up the wine. “I’ll run get father,” he said.

  Joash nodded. “Thank you.”

  They returned into the living area to find Wing dozing.

  “Son,” Joash said.

  Wing roused and half opened his eyes.

  “Here.” Joash pressed first the water and then the port of wine into his hand.

  His hand trembling, Wing drank both in great gulps, before resting back again.

  “I’ll be back soon,” Pree K said, and hurried out the front door.

  Chapter 26

  Good Drink, Bad News

  C ommander Lant tidied up the small wooden desk in the Cantfield hut and, pulling on a long overcoat and favorite hat, stepped out into the fading twilight and began his walk across the glistening Cantfields toward home.

  Nearing the space between his home and the tree lined valley edge he heard a low hiss come at him from the cover of the trees: “Psst!”

  Stopping, Lant looked behind him into the darkness of the tree line.

  “Commander!”

  Lant headed toward the trees. Stepping through their leafy border, he found Jason, Master Monteray’s nephew, leaning against a tree munching on something.

  “Jason!” Lant said with happy surprise. “So good to see you. What a surprise. Have you been waiting long?”

  “Not too long.”

  “You look well,” Lant observed.

  “I am.”

  And then Lant’s countenance fell. “An unscheduled visit. The news cannot be good.”

  “It isn’t,” Jason admitted.

  Lant drew a breath. “Well let’s not talk out here.”

  “Thanks, I’m freezing.”

  Lant clapped the young man on the shoulder and they started walking, Lant taking up Jason’s duffel for him as he asked, “How was the trip?”

  “Quiet. Snowy.”

  “How was the pass?”

  “Good snowshoes,” Jason said, stomping his feet.

  “And your family?”

  “Well and fine. Busy. You know how it goes.”

  “Certainly. Are you staying a night or two?”

  “Just one,” Jason said.

  “Very well.”

  Lant slung Jason’s duffel over his shoulder and the two made their way along the valley edge inside the tree line until they were adjacent to Lant’s front door.

  It was not by chance that Lant had chosen to build his home at the sunrising edge of the valley, close to the Cantfields and Jhiyak Canyon.

  For the most part, Lant made visiting trips to the other valleys himself since a friend coming into Rieeve was required to come and go as quickly and surreptitiously as possible. As overjoyed as Lant was to see Jason, only once in all the revolutions since his return to Rieeve had an unscheduled visit not bode ill. He knew this time would not be the second.

  The sun had set and in the dim light it was easy enough for Jason to pose as Pree K until they’d made it indoors — something he’d done before.

  They came up the steps and opened the door. Jason stepped in behind the Commander, calling out: “Pree K!” before Lant was aware of the guests in his living area.

  Pree K had slid to a sto
p in front of the door, hand extended, mouth open.

  A fall of looks shot around the instantly silent room and then Lant, having made the only decision he could, continued inside. If anyone were to surprise him in his home, he could think of no one — other than Nien — whom he would rather have it be.

  Lant made a quick assessment of what was happening. The way Wing lay told him all he needed to know.

  “Father-Cawutt,” he said to Joash. And then, “Wing.”

  Wing forced himself to sit up a little, his eyes — like Joash’s — straying to take in Jason.

  Easing Jason’s mind, Lant waved him forward.

  “Well, might as well be clear about it — this is Jason Monteray Grant, of Legran,” Lant announced. “You have heard me speak of my friend before, Master Monteray. This is his nephew.”

  Joash and Wing nodded to Jason, their eyes watching him, more out of curiosity, Lant thought, than aversion or disapproval.

  “You don’t seem too startled,” Lant said.

  “Well,” Joash said, “I’ve always suspected.”

  Lant shrugged with a short smile.

  “It’s nice to meet you,” Joash said, standing.

  Jason greeted him, exchanged nods with Wing, and then, allayed of his initial concern, turned to Pree K with a huge hug.

  “We had no idea you were coming!” Pree K said, standing back.

  “Uncle Monteray really wanted to drop everything and come himself,” Jason said. “He practically packed my duffel for me.”

  “I’ll try and forgive him,” Lant said.

  Lant turned to Joash and Wing. “Clearly, something happened,” he said, indicating Wing.

  “Yes, we need your help.”

  Lant set aside Jason’s duffels and moved across the room to Wing.

  Wing moved a little, his face screwing up as he sucked in his breath.

  “We had an accident on the Vanc roof. Wing was dragged over by a, uh, roof timber.”

  Lant’s eyes flicked from Joash to Wing as he made a cursory assessment of Wing’s hip and leg. “And you survived this, how?” he asked.

  Silence answered him.

  “Uh, well…” Joash began, and Lant saw that Joash had noticed Pree K and Jason had stopped talking, interested in the explanation. “Wing managed to catch himself as the timber went over.”

  “The retention rope was still wound around my leg,” Wing added.

  In Joash, Lant could sense fear. However, as many secrets seemed to be out and about tonight, Lant merely nodded.

  “His hip,” Joash said.

  Leaning forward, Lant felt Wing’s hip.

  “It’s moved out a bit.” He looked at Wing. “I can try and replace it, but doctor Kesskidal may be able to do better.”

  Wing shook his head. “I would appreciate it if you’d try.”

  “Very well. Come on, I’ll need you on a flat surface.”

  With Joash’s help, they managed to get Wing onto the floor. His hands and fingers were swollen terribly, as was his face, his once-broken nose possibly broken again. The inside of his arms were a mass of ragged scrapes and bruising, as was his chest.

  Lant crawled around Wing’s legs, positioning himself. “Wing, I need you to relax as much as you can and breathe.”

  Wing nodded.

  Lant moved Wing’s leg up gently, bending it at the knee and drawing it slightly across Wing’s body before rotating it slowly up and out. Wing’s breath held briefly and then released as the joint aligned.

  Lant exhaled and sat back. A thin sweat had jumped out on his forehead, and he swiped at it as Wing closed his eyes and, to the surprise of everyone, laughed.

  “Yosha,” he swore softly, “that feels so much better.” He opened his eyes to slits. “Thank you,” he said to Lant.

  “My pleasure,” Lant said, relieved that it had worked so smoothly.

  Wing closed his eyes then and Lant pushed himself to his feet.

  “Best he stays here tonight. It’s dark and he should not be riding.”

  “Thank you, Commander. Very much,” Joash said.

  “You should stay, as well,” Lant said to Joash. “Looks like you could do with some rest, too.”

  Joash sighed. “Yes, I suppose I could.”

  “Pree K, help me with blankets and pillows.” Lant glanced down at Wing; sheer exhaustion, it seemed, had already dragged him under. “Looks like he’ll stay right where he is.”

  Pree K showed Joash to a room on the lower floor, opposite from the kitchen, returning to place blankets over Wing and a pillow under his head.

  With their guest and patient seen to and all the lights in the house except for the kitchen doused, Lant, Pree K, and Jason sat talking round the table in small dining area.

  “Sorry, Fa, I ran to the Cant hut to find you. I had no idea you were coming, Jason…”

  “This wasn’t planned,” Jason said.

  “It’s all right, son,” Lant said.

  Jason drained a cup of Lant’s finest. He then leaned over and pulled a thin, rolled parchment from his duffel. Placing it on the table, he pushed it toward Lant.

  This was customary.

  Lant and Monteray exchanged letters with each visit. But this time Jason’s manner was as tight as the knots securing the parchments. As Lant began to untie them, Jason got up from the table and stepped into the kitchen.

  Lant unrolled the familiar parchment, scraped of he and Monteray’s last correspondence, and began to read. He read it three times before setting it down.

  “What is it?” Pree K asked.

  Lant looked at his son. “Monteray received confirmation that the Valley of Tou has been taken by the Ka’ull.”

  Pree K met his eyes for a cumbrous moment before reaching for his wine.

  From the dark kitchen, Jason said, “I was there when the messenger from Quieness came to my uncle’s home. The story she told us is enough to make dreams slide into nightmares so terrible you can’t tell which is worse: being awake and thinking about it or trying to sleep and dreaming about it. I wandered around for three days afterward like I was lost in a Criyean embarkation ritual.” He shook his head. “Awake or asleep, it doesn’t really matter — you can’t escape it.”

  Lant, Pree K beside him, listened quietly.

  Jason walked back to the table and sat down. For a time, the three nursed their drinks in silence.

  Taking a deep draught, Jason tilted his cup toward Lant. “It’s good to be here. You Rieevans have your quirks. Wine, however, is not one of them.” He forced a short smile. “For the sake of Legran pride, it’s a good thing your people keep to themselves. If word ever got out about Rieevan wine you’d put the Hiona out of business.”

  Lant pulled himself from the black thread of his thoughts and replied, “Compete with the Hiona? Never.” He directed his gaze to Jason’s duffel. “You wouldn’t have come all this way — ?”

  Jason tipped a grin. “Have I ever?” He reached down and withdrew two familiar flasks.

  Lant and Pree K each took one, uncorking the tops. Taking slow sips, father and son savored the deep maroon liquid before swallowing.

  “It’s easy to be kind when you know what you have is better,” Pree K said, eyes closing with contentment.

  Jason downed the rest of his Rieevan wine. “Well, a little variety helps.”

  “Suppose it does,” Pree K agreed, and the three moved upstairs to not disturb Wing and Joash and threw themselves each onto a bed, the floor, and a chair in one of the upper rooms to talk of Monteray, the house, and the latest happenings in the Valley of Legran.

  The three had talked into the wee moonsteps of the morning when Lant finally excused himself.

  “I need to a get a bit of sleep.” He cast a glance at Pree K and Jason. “There’s a Council meeting in the morning.”

  “Are you going to tell them?” Pree K asked.

  Lant nodded uneasily before asking Jason, “You’ll stay the day, won’t you?”

  Jason yawned hugel
y. “I think I’ll sleep now, leave before dawn tomorrow.”

  “Good, we’ll have dinner then.”

  “I hope my being seen by your friends won’t give you trouble,” Jason said.

  Commander Lant shook his head. “The Cawutts, like me, have their secrets. They will respect mine. Of that I have no doubt.”

  In the living area, Wing closed his eyes again. He’d woken to the low carry of voices coming from the kitchen. He’d been unsure of the time, but darkness was deep outside the windows and he could feel the late hour in his body.

  He ached — everywhere — and wished he had some water but had no intention of moving or bothering Pree K or Lant. So, he had shifted slightly, and relaxed, wanting to go back to sleep but unable to block out the soft but surprisingly clear circle of voices emanating from the kitchen.

  Jason, Commander Lant’s nephew from Legran, had brought news: The Ka’ull had taken another northing Valley.

  The pain in Wing’s mind and heart now equaled that bruising his body.

  The Ka’ull attack on Lou had not been isolated. It was clear now that the intentions of the Ka’ull were much larger, and if that included a push to the southing there would be virtually nothing Rieeve could do to stop them.

  The heaviness of this thought was still not enough to keep Wing from being pulled back into sleep.

  When he woke again, it was still early. The rest of the house was quiet. He didn’t want to disturb anyone but he needed to relieve himself and was still terribly thirsty. Sitting up gingerly, he took a brief appraisal. His hip and leg felt sore but better. His hands were thick, swollen, and stiff. And great swaths of bruising were spreading across his chest and arms.

  It took him time to get to his feet. Bending back down painfully, he folded the blanket that had been covering him and set it on the sofa.

  Thirst gnawing at his throat, Wing moved into the kitchen. He found Commander Lant there, alone.

  Surprised, Wing nodded in silence to the Commander and stepped out the back door to relieve himself.

  Entering back through the kitchen door, Wing carefully sat himself down on a bar stool.