Daughter Of The Wind --Western Wind

by Sandra Elsa

  #

  Trace and Johann were closeted in the room, catching up on all that had happened in the past two years by the time she finished. When she walked in the door, Trace rather loudly proclaimed, “And here’s my baby sister didn’t she just grow up beautiful and deadly.”

  When the door closed he turned to Johann with a grimace, and said jokingly, “The next time you decide to visit and bring a beautiful girl along you could tell people she’s my fiancé or some such thing. You just didn’t want me to have a chance with your protégé, did you?”

  Johann favored him with an indulgent smile and turned to Pink and asked, “What happened to your hair?”

  It was Trace that responded. “It did that when she healed my leg, I’ve seen Healers work before, but I’ve never seen them manifest physical changes because of it.”

  “Think,” Johann scowled. “Did it happen when she healed your leg or when that stallion returned her energy to her.”

  Trace looked blank, “I guess I missed something, because I didn’t see that happen. I was in a fair amount of pain.”

  “I didn’t even notice until we got back through the gate and people started staring at us,” Pink told Johann.

  “We’ll have to get it back the way it was,” Johann said. Pink was inclined to agree with him.

  “Why would you want to do that?” Trace asked. “This color is much prettier. Your hair almost looks alive it’s so brilliant.”

  Johann wasn’t sure what Pink had confided in Trace. He left the answer up to her.

  “It’s because of its brilliance that I have to dye it. If the merchant has sent a description abroad looking for his property, no one will be able to miss this hair.”

  “True,” Trace agreed hesitantly. “I've never seen hair that color.” Then turning to Johann he asked, “Didn’t you say she was considering enlisting?”

  “Yes.”

  A broad smile covered Trace‘s face. “Then there’s the answer, once she swears in service to the Crown all other claims are worthless. She has certainly proven she can handle a weapon and with her friend, she should be very good at tracking in the forest.”

  “Her friend?” Johann asked.

  “That wolf she hangs out with, outside the city. In fact, with assets like that I’d like to pull some strings and take her back to my unit. We could certainly use somebody who’s that good in the woods. He helped her get the drop on me, that’s no small task.”

  Pushing his hair back behind an ear, he looked at Johann and said, “I remember some of the stories you used to tell me while I was growing up, and it wouldn’t surprise me at all if not a single person here knows she’s a witch or even a Healer. She won’t get pulled into the Wizards’ Corps. She was certainly willing to let me suffer after she shot me. At least until she realized we were family,” he said with a grin. “We have a very real need of her as a Healer in our unit. She’ll be able to use her skills without word getting back to HQ. We’ve had a request in for a year for a Healer. We keep getting told that there are not enough Healers in the Army to be sent out to all the small units. In the meantime we have good soldiers dying needlessly because we don’t have anybody to take care of them. This would be perfect.” His enthusiasm grew as he spoke.

  Johann grinned at his grandson's excitement. “That would be a very good plan if you think you can pull off getting her the assignment without having to go through training first. The less time she spends around Relante‘s wizards the better.”

  “From what I’ve seen, she doesn’t need training. We can probably prove that.” He turned to Pink and asked, “Can you handle a sword anywhere near as well as you handle a bow and a knife?”

  “I’m competent,” she said, uncertain whether knowing the drills Conall had taught her would translate into skill with a sword.

  Trace departed to recover his belongings from the barracks he was staying in, and returned to the room just in time to see her gazing out through the open window with a detached look on her face.

  “What’s the matter?” he asked.

  “Wha’.” A hand flew to her head, covering the bump she’d just gotten banging her head on the window as he startled her. She glanced around and saw who it was, and told him, “Just saying goodnight to Conall.”

  “You can talk to him at this distance?”

  “Probably a good deal further, however at this distance it begins to take more effort and concentration. It’s no longer just a conversation. You’ll be glad to know he approves of your idea—he’s been getting lonely and nervous out there. He howled several times the first night we were here and I gather some of the local boys thought they should go hunt the wolf. Not that they have anywhere close to the skill required to get him. You never know when somebody might just get lucky, or unlucky if you want to look at it that way since they can’t kill him.”

  “Well I’m glad he approves. I’ll get to work on that tomorrow.”

  He looked around the room and noticed Johann was nowhere to be seen. “Where’s grandfather?”

  “I’m not sure,” she replied. “He’s been spending more and more time away. Angel and I have been busy exploring the city, and visiting Conall. Johann looked up some old friends. He invited me to go with him a couple of times but I didn’t want to intrude. Went once and felt in the way. He’s given me so much, if suddenly he wants his own life, that’s his decision. Since we hope to be leaving, it would make me happy if he has found friends to keep him company.”

  She yawned and looked at her bed. “It’s late. With all the excitement of meeting my long lost brother,” she said with a smile, “I’m rather tired and need to get some sleep.”

  Trace unrolled his bedroll on the floor under the window. She made him turn his back while she changed into her sleeping shift and then she slid under the covers. Rolling on her side, she asked him, “Will joining the Army truly end any claim Garec might have on me?”

  “Absolutely,” he assured her, “nobody would be stupid enough to lay claim to somebody who belongs body and soul to the Crown. That would be a very fast way for him to become a very poor man.”

  “Goodnight,” she murmured contentedly.

  “Goodnight,” he returned. As a quiet afterthought he asked, “By the way sis, what should I call you? I reckon if I’m to be your brother, I should at least know your name.”

  “Your grandfather and I decided that this would be a good time to start using, Bellana, the name my father gave me, you may call me Bella as he did.”

  “What of your last name?”

  “I don’t remember my last name, we decided if I was to be your sister I should probably be a Gunter also.”

  “That’ll do,” he said. “I’ll get it started tomorrow.”

  Chapter 23