Daughter Of The Wind --Western Wind

by Sandra Elsa

  In four days they found themselves on the outskirts of Relante. What she could see of the city amazed her. She had never seen this many people before. If you added together all the people they had met since their journey began it would not have been enough to fill this place.

  The outskirts of the city were filthy. Even where they stood on a hilltop overlooking it she could smell the mass of humanity below her. She could sort the scents into different categories. There was refuse, most of it rising from one spot slightly outside the city. The stench of unwashed bodies filled the air in the hovels down the hill, mixed with rising odors of cooking food, and perfumes from the merchants’ sector. The scents overwhelmed her and she decided it was Conall's nose that smelled them. Her nose had never been that discerning.

  She bid farewell to Conall as they left the forest behind, but she remained aware of him watching them.

  The further in her eye traveled, the cleaner the city became. There were two walls surrounding parts of the city. At the heart of the inner wall was the palace. An immense creation of gray stone that rose above the rest of the city. A tower sprouted from each corner. She could barely make out the black garbed soldiers standing guard atop the towers.

  Manicured gardens surrounded the palace. Even from this distance she knew she would not find a single weed among the flowers and shrubs.

  Six large buildings and several smaller houses filled the remaining space of the inner circle. A wooden palisade separated the buildings from the palace.

  One was a stable, paddocks filled with horses surrounded it. The second building appeared to be a barracks. The standard of Ronan flew over it, fluttering in the breeze. “Palace Guard,” she thought to herself.

  She hadn’t expected it, but was not the least bit surprised when Conall confirmed her guess, amending it to King‘s Guard. A third building reached skyward. A tower adorned each corner in a smaller wooden replica of the palace. As she looked at it, she heard Conall’s thought whisper in her mind, “Military Headquarters. Regular Army is on the first floor. King‘s Guard second floor.”

  Pink stared at the sharply peaked roof which topped three stories. In all their travels, Pink had never seen a wooden building more than two stories tall. She stared at this one in awe, pondering how Conall could possibly know the interior setup of the buildings. “I just do,” he responded in the unsettling way he had of answering unasked questions. Not that his response truly answered her.

  The other buildings were long and low. She couldn’t begin to guess their purpose and Conall did not offer the information. Whatever his source was, he didn’t seem to know these buildings.

  Against the inside edge of the second wall were innumerable buildings similar to the barracks in the palace compound. Johann pointed to them and said, “Those are the barracks for the soldiers of the Regular Army.” Pointing to the buildings inside the second wall he proceeded to tell her what she, with Conall’s help, had already surmised. Between the Army barracks and the inner wall were many large well-maintained houses.

  Sprawling away from the second wall. Stretching towards the hill they now walked down, was the marketplace. She shuddered involuntarily when she realized she would have to pass through all the open-air stalls and the shops run by Relante’s merchants.

  “Don’t worry,” Conall comforted her “Look at the streets. You will be one of many. Graybeard was correct when he said you could lose yourself here. Nobody will pick you out of the crowd unless you draw attention to yourself purposely. Like letting your pet unicorn trot along behind you without a lead.”

  She laughed at him, but was amazed to feel another presence in her thoughts. A rather indignant but resigned presence. When Angel walked up beside her and placed the leadrope in her hand she knew whom it was she was feeling. She was overjoyed that she could sense him at long last; at least his emotions. Angel gave a contented snuffle.

  As they started down the hill she heard Conall telling her, “You have no idea how hard he’s been trying to make you sense him. I think now he will be content, even around all those people. I must tell you he is not looking forward to that. The bond has opened—he will be able to make you understand him nearly as well as you do me in the next couple months.”

  “Just what I need,” she thought ruefully, “somebody else rummaging through my head,” but she reached up and scratched Angel on his neck. As she did so, it occurred to her she now had to reach up to scratch him. He had grown on this journey. She would soon be riding him. Not, she thought to herself, that I know the first thing about riding. From beside her she felt warmth and safety emanating as though Angel was trying to assure her that he would take care of her, when that time arrived.

  More of the hair in his mane and tail had turned white as he matured, it made him quite striking. Had he been an ordinary horse she would have been afraid somebody might try to steal him. Being what he was, she thought at him, “Let them try, huh.”

  He responded with a playful push to her shoulder.

  As they started passing people on the road, more than a few of them looked over at the old man, young woman, and the handsome stallion, making their way into town. No few of those glances were covetous, some as they glanced at Pink, some as they glanced at Angel. They quickly realized they were bringing more attention to themselves than they wanted. Johann muttered some words under his breath and twitched his hand as though casting a net and shortly, people stopped staring at them.

  Walking beside him she asked quietly, “What do we look like?” The deception of this simple spell did not extend to those it was cast over, so she had no way of knowing what he‘d done. He told her, “You are forty years old with gray hair and some missing teeth, and he is a broken down old cart horse.”

  “Why didn’t you do this from the start?”

  “I'm physically stronger than I have been in years, but it drains me to maintain an illusion. Your youth could maintain it. At this point I don‘t trust your skill to hold it. I only hope that I can keep it together until we get to the first wall where pretty women and handsome horses will be more common and you two will not draw so much attention.”

  She agreed with Johann’s assessment of her skills. It’d be just her luck, while they were trying not to be noticed she’d think of something like a dragon and cast that illusion.

  Pink watched him closely as they walked, searching for signs of strain as they moved through the hovels and cottages of the outer city. She laid a hand on his shoulder and concentrated on lending him strength. In this manner they made it to the outer wall.

  Disappearing down a secluded alley, they reappeared with the illusion gone.

  The guards at the gate barely gave them a second glance. In this place it was less conspicuous to wear their natural guise than the illusion would have been.

  The wall was nearly a horse length wide and made of stone. Pink marveled at the engineering and human effort required to build such a structure.

  Once they were beyond the wall, they stopped and moved off the road. Johann explained that he was trying to recall where he wanted to go. He was trying to place himself by remembering the view from the hillside and his memories of long ago.

  Moving back out on the traveled way, he wended his way through the maze of roads towards the second gate, turning back and going in the opposite direction only once.

  A sergeant jumped to his feet to stop them. The guard wanted to know where they were going, and their business within the inner circle.

  "We're traveling to Headquarters. I'm attempting to find my grandson"

  The guard immediately became sympathetic. “It’s great that your grandson still has family who cares for him. So many of these young men and women, once they show up here, they never see their families again unless they’re from nearby.”

  Calling another soldier out of the shack, which stood beside the gate, he instructed the private to take the visitors to the Regular Army Headquarters.

  Once they arrived at the He
adquarters building, the private turned them over to the desk sergeant and returned to his duty post. The desk sergeant was brusque but polite and they found themselves once again repeating their request for information.

  “Has your grandson ever written home to let you know what company he was assigned to?”

  Johann shook his head. “I haven’t received any letters but we lived in a small village nearly over in Swadan. Letters don’t tend to get there very often.”

  “Then he can write,” the sergeant inferred from Johann’s answer. “If he could write and read he would most likely have been enlisted as a corporal. That’ll be a lot less names to search. We have all enlisted personnel catalogued by rank at time of enlistment, if you knew the company he’d been assigned to I could show you the rosters immediately. Unfortunately without that information I’m afraid you'll be searching awhile.”

  “Well,” Johann said, “then I guess we had best get started.”

  The desk sergeant went into the back office and returned shortly with a book that was nearly two feet tall, two and a half feet long and six inches thick. He placed it on the counter off to one side where they would not be interfering with normal business, bid them good luck, and returned to his paperwork.

  Johann sighed and started turning pages. On the advice of the sergeant, he flipped past all the pages with names of privates. Pink began to notice that many of the names had a single line drawn through them and a two or three letter designation following the line. Many of these were LOD, some were UA, and some DIB, along with a few less common designations. Johann explained them to her.

  “LOD means the soldier was killed in the Line Of Duty, UA is Unauthorized Absence, DIB Disappeared In Battle, he pointed to one of the less common designations and said this one here, DOD means Deceased Off Duty.

  They came to the part of the book that listed the names of corporals enlisted within the last two years. The blank pages between ranks indicated that this was an incomplete book and an ongoing roster therefore the names would have been entered by date, not alphabetically.

  Johann knew when his grandson had left Aldan, but didn’t know how long it would have taken him to get here. Once he got here, had he signed up right away or had he tried a different type of employment first? With a sigh, Johann found the page with the earliest possible arrival date and started scanning.

  After searching for three hours they had not found the name Trace Gunter anywhere in the roster and it was beginning to get dark outside. Johann decided it was time to find someplace to stay for the night.

  After making arrangements with the desk sergeant to return the following day, and getting some recommendations on clean but affordable inns they found their way back through the first gate.

  Just before the barracks in the middle circle there were several inns. Following the desk sergeant’s recommendation, they searched for an inn called the Golden Knight. Easily recognizable by a miniature golden suit of armor, hanging in a reclining position over the doorway.

  They entered a busy common room. After arranging stabling for Angel, they ate, found the room they had paid for, and prepared to turn in.

  The room was on the second floor and rather stuffy. Pink opened the window to allow air to circulate. When she did she heard the howling of a wolf and briefly felt Conall's mind touch hers. The distance between them made it a weak touch but she knew it was him.

  “I miss you already,” she felt brush gently through her mind. A sentiment she returned in kind.

  After she touched him back the howling paused, then with two short yips she felt, “Farewell Lady Bellana, speak to me tomorrow. I’ll be waiting,” then his mind withdrew. Feeling contented she returned to her bed, and slept soundly through the night.

  Early the next morning, there were many soldiers on the road between the barracks and headquarters. Most traveled through the outer gate and turned south towards a flat plain beyond the city. They wore brown unadorned uniforms. The pants were form fitting the tunics loose and sleeveless. Some wore mail, others did not. All carried weapons of one sort or another, but there was no urgency to their movement so Pink assumed there was no emergency.

  She asked Johann where the soldiers were going and he told her, “Every morning soldiers report for training. If you choose that life you‘ll be doing the same.”

  A lot of the soldiers traveled by themselves at a rather ambling pace—going somewhere, but not in a hurry.

  One group in black uniforms moved in formation. Except for the light jingle of mail and steady rhythm of feet they barely made a sound when the entire group of more than thirty soldiers went by at double-time. Pink was amazed such a large group could be so quiet. They all carried bows and had their quivers slung over their backs. The other soldiers got out of the way of this company without being told to.

  One unfortunate, who did not move quickly enough was jostled through the ranks as they ebbed around him without breaking formation. He stood dazed, in the middle of the road when the formation passed. With a shake of his head, he collected his wits and continued on.

  When Johann and Pink arrived back at the inner gate they went through the same process as the day before. They were delighted to find Sergeant Gallo once again sitting behind the desk. With a smile he went to the back and brought out the book. He had even thoughtfully placed a marker where they left off the day before.

  Two more hours of searching brought them no results, and they were nearing the end of the book. Johann was losing hope when the desk sergeant looked up and asked him, “Did your grandson have any talents besides basic weapon skills and being able to read and write when he arrived?”

  Johann considered the question and said, “His weapon skills were very basic. Just what he learned play fighting with the other boys of the village. I’m afraid his father died when he was young and I’m not much of a hand with a weapon. His reading and writing were excellent, and he had some skills as an herbalist that he picked up from his grandmother. A natural as a woodsman, he could track anything.”

  At this last, the sergeant looked enthusiastic. “ Let’s try something else,” he said and went into the back office. He returned with another book—considerably smaller than the first. “These young men and women are enlisted in special units. They are kept separately from the others for their protection. I’m afraid I can’t let you see this book but if you can give me your grandson’s name and approximately when he would have arrived I can at least tell you if he's in here. I’d need to get permission from much higher up to be able to tell you where he's located.”

  Johann gave him the name and date, and Sergeant Gallo started looking through the book. Within fifteen minutes he looked up, victory shining in his face. “He’s here and to the best of our records, still alive.” It was only then, when he stabbed at it with his quill that the book tilted and Pink could see that nearly every other line on the page was crossed off with an LOD inked in beside it.

  “All I can tell you is that he’s definitely enlisted, and he enlisted as a corporal but has been promoted to sergeant. I’ll look into getting you further information.” He looked at Johann and asked, “How is it you seem to know the military so well, yet you claim to have no weapon skills, Master Gunter?”

  “Let’s just say that when I was in Caryon’s Army, the book you would find my name in was even smaller than that in which my grandson is listed,” Johann replied with a smile.

  A look of respect crept across the sergeant’s face, he was perfectly aware of what that implied.

  “Too bad your grandson didn’t inherit any gifts. He would have been an officer. What about your granddaughter?” he asked, a look of hope flickering across his face.

  “She is interested in joining the army. Alas, she did not inherit any gifts either. Perhaps a touch of healing, supported by her knowledge as an herbalist. She is quite skilled with weapons. Taught by one of your border guards who put us up for awhile. Since then she’s been practicing with a skilled inst
ructor,” he lied smoothly.

  The granddaughter part of their tale had become so ingrained over the past several months that sometimes he almost convinced himself that it was truth. Protecting her through another lie came very naturally.

  “If you’ll just write down where you’ll be staying, I’ll let you know when I have word on your grandson. If your granddaughter decides to enlist, let me know if I can be of any assistance.”

  Johann wrote down his name and the name of the Inn they were staying at and left.

  They went out through both gates into the market place. With Pink's most distinctive feature currently dyed to a deep walnut brown, they felt secure wandering the throngs. Pink garnered no more attention than every other attractive young woman in the market. They returned to the inn at suppertime and Pink checked on Angel.

  The stable boy kept his water bucket clean and fresh and there was a pile of well-cured hay in the corner but Angel looked out of sorts.

  Feelings of relief flooded over her as soon as she opened the door to the stall. He came to nuzzle her pockets. She had bought carrots in the market and fed him one, now. She hugged his neck, offering comfort and he contentedly dropped his head over her shoulder.

  Noticing the open door, the stable boy poked his head inside to make sure everything was as it was supposed to be. “You all right?” he asked.

  “I’m fine,” she responded, not bothering to turn and face him. “He’s just not used to being locked in a stall, he needs comfort.”

  “Comfort!” the boy snorted. “’Bout took my arm off when I tried to groom him. I’m afraid that’s one job you’ll have to do yourself.”

  Pink looked around the well-kept stable. The box stalls were roomy and clean, fresh straw spread in a thick carpet of the occupied stalls. The hay was well cured timothy, smelling of freshly cut fields. She didn’t see the boy she searched for. “I told the boy last night, nobody was to go near him. He’s fresh off the farm and very attached to me personally.”

  “Sure would be nice if somebody had passed that along to me.” He drew back the sleeve of his shirt and showed her his arm, which was sporting a large bruise on the bicep.

  “I’m terribly sorry,” Bella said, attempting unsuccessfully to sound contrite. “At least he didn’t break the skin.”

  “What’s a tiny girl like you doing with a stallion that big anyway?”

  “When we left the farm a good while back he was considered a runt, not big enough for plowing or anything else useful. He’s still small compared to his dam. He’s too young to ride but he does fine for gentle packing. I reckon soon it will be time to train him to be ridden.” She felt a mental smile come from Angel as she pictured her sore back end, when Angel would be teaching her how to ride.

  “From now on,” she continued, “just throw him his hay and fill his water bucket. Since the grain bucket’s in the back of the stall I’ll give him grain when I get in at night, as long as nobody will have a problem with that.”

  The boy nodded, “It’s jest my brother an’ me, we take shifts cleaning and feeding the horses. The Golden Knight has the reputation of the best-run stables in town. Just wait until I get my hands on my brother. He knows better than to not warn me about problem horses. Of course he never believes there are problem horses, ‘only problem owners’ he likes to say.”

  “Well tell him for me, that if anything happens to this horse, I’ll become a problem owner.”

  She groomed Angel thoroughly, fed him his grain, and went into the common room. She found Johann and her supper waiting.

  The following weeks passed quietly. As quietly as it could in a city this size. Often she felt the need to get out of the seething masses of humanity. Whenever she sought the peace of the forest, Conall would appear as soon as she reached the dense undergrowth.

  Every time she came to see him she brought food. While she was out there, she would hunt to be certain he would have enough food while she was inside the walls of the city. Her accuracy with a bow had improved greatly since Dylan had first taught her to shoot and less than half a mile from the city, game was fairly plentiful. City dwellers did not hunt; they raised immense herds of livestock.

  Chapter 21