Winter's Rising

by Mark Tufo

  “What? Are you saying you’ve basically sacrificed five years’ worth of war waiting for me?”

  “Yes, as our elders counseled.”

  “Kinder, I’m only seventeen. I’m not even supposed to be here. What if I hadn’t shown?”

  “Yet you are here, as we anticipated, so your concerns have no validity.”

  “What do you mean ‘my concerns have no validity’? Hundreds, maybe as many as a thousand people gave up their lives for me. And even now, more have placed their lives in jeopardy for something I’m not even sure I’m supposed to do. How does that not concern me?”

  “Winter, every last one of them, whether here or passed, willingly accepted the sacrifice they undertook. This is larger than any one individual; we act as we do not for ourselves but for those who will follow. For great change to come a terrible price must first be paid.”

  “I’m just one girl.”

  “Two,” Cedar said, sticking her fingers in the air but never taking her eyes off her page.

  “We’re just two girls.”

  “It is natural to doubt, without it I would question your motives. Come, eat. Dinner is prepared. Surely you don’t doubt your hunger.”

  “I’m not that hungry anymore,” I answered, but my stomach belied my words as it gurgled loudly in protest. “Apparently Ghost bellies grumble as well as you mortals’,” I said, extending my hands for the proffered bowl.

  EXHAUSTED AS I was, I couldn’t sleep. I counted stars, watched as numerous clouds flitted past the waning moon; I attempted to copy the even breathing pattern of Cedar, all to no avail. I kept replaying the events of the day over and over in my head, and when those pictures ceased to upset me I began to dwell on what Kinder had said. It was all too much. I needed to walk. I got up, not really knowing where I was going, well, maybe I didn’t, but my legs seemed to. I was heading back toward the Pickets. I passed within ten feet of one of the men Kinder had posted. Either he had fallen asleep or since I was just a ghost, he did not acknowledge me as I passed.

  Smoke still swirled from the Bruton funeral pyre. I stopped to place my hand on every small earthen mound marking our fallen. I paid my final respects to the solemn, unadorned graves. I lingered at Gregor’s grave. He had given his life for me. When I was done I left the site, I was more energized than when I’d begun.

  There were the yips of coyotes in the distance, the hooting of an owl, and a variety of insect chirps. I could hear the rush of water off in the distance. I was drawing closer to the river as well as the Pickets, but it wasn’t either of those that got my attention. It was a small fire. It was far away, but the land was flat and there was nothing to conceal it. I couldn’t be sure, but it appeared to be on the other side of the Pickets. For the first time since I’d started my night’s ramble, I felt afraid. The rational part of me–the vast majority of me, in fact, screamed for me to turn around and run far away. But there was this small, almost insignificant, certainly irrational part that demanded I find out who was at that fire. How that piece won out is a mystery to me. My feet were almost moving independently of my thoughts. This foolish part might have won its small concession, but it could not convince me to rush over with reckless abandon. I decided to test the limits of my nickname. I recognized some distinct advantages to my approach. The first was the sound of the water; it would mask all but the loudest of blunders. Then there was the fire. Whoever stood near it would be blind to anything past the circle of its light. There was the small sliver of moon; it afforded me enough light to walk but not enough to illuminate me. Lastly, and maybe most importantly, were the Pickets themselves. Whoever was on the far side had to believe that those Pickets represented an impenetrable barrier to all who would approach from the other side. Were I an enemy, these circumstances could easily become their undoing.

  I ripped my gaze away from the flames which I instinctively moved toward like a moth. If I continued staring at them I would become as blind to my surroundings as they were and could potentially walk right into a sentry, or even be spotted. I skewed my trajectory to a sharper angle. As I got closer, I could make out four men, I believed, judging by their size. They were passing a bottle of something back and forth between them. I squatted down as a fifth came strolling into the circle where he adjusted his pants before sitting down on a log. I waited a few minutes longer, wondering if he was perhaps a guard that had finished his allotted time. If that was the case, no one was getting up to relieve him. Then I laughed inwardly–it was he who had been “relieving” himself.

  So, I thought. There are only five of them and they are confident enough in their location that they don’t have a standing guard. Why bother? They had the river on one side and the impassable Pickets on the other. I stayed low but crept steadily forward. I felt the familiar tingle as I approached the boundary; then I was through, and on the periphery of hearing their conversation.

  “...oy Devlin, come on, man, you’re hogging all the sauce.”

  “You should be thanking me, Nempro. Everyone knows you can’t handle your liquor.” There was laughter among the group at this.

  “What did we do to get stuck on this crap heap?” one of them said forlornly.

  “Would you rather be on Gray Dawn?” There was an uneasy silence after that statement.

  “Just give me the bottle; I don’t even want to think of that cesspool.”

  “Hey Devlin, you think these idiots even have a clue what they’re doing here?”

  “Of course not or they wouldn’t keep doing it. Why would you even ask that?” Devlin’s mood seemed to be souring by the second. “I’ve lost a lot of good friends on Gray.” He took an abnormally long pull from the bottle before handing it over.

  I would have stayed, but as time passed, the intervals between them talking got longer and longer and began to make less and less sense. I didn’t see how anything of importance could come from further eavesdropping. I took note that they were all wearing the same clothing, uniforms of some sort, could have been a dark blue or black. When I felt I’d gotten all I was going to get, I decided to return to camp. I’d been stationary for so long the muscles in my legs began to cramp up and I stumbled as I moved to leave.

  “You hear that?” Nempro stood up and grabbed what looked like a rifle, but it was unlike anything I’d seen back in Dystance or from Major Alsenpater’s men. I froze where I was; I believe I even held my breath.

  The men got preternaturally quiet as they all strained to hear something. Devlin finally broke the silence. “I should hit you. Your damned paranoia is killing me. Give me the bottle you cowardly rabbit.”

  They again laughed, although I did notice Devlin sat closer to his rifle this time and would occasionally glance beyond the fire pit. I’d swear some of the time he was looking directly at me. I knew, at least I felt I knew, that he couldn’t see me. When the group finally returned to their drunken banter, I slowly backed away until I was certain of my undetected escape.

  “WHERE HAVE YOU been? We’ve been worried sick!” Cedar was nearly shrieking as I came back into camp.

  “Did you find what you were looking for?” Kinder asked.

  “I don’t know,” I told him truthfully.

  I’d been gone longer than I realized. The sun was already coming back up and I didn’t think the rest of the group would appreciate it if I asked to take a nap before we headed back out. Cedar’s incessant babbling was about the only reason I didn’t fall asleep as we walked. I’d gone about as far as I could when the advance scout said we were getting close. I dug down into my limited reserves and kept moving. Seemed strange that a ghost should feel so heavy. A fair amount of the cave inhabitants were out to greet us as we arrived. Chief among them were Haden and Tallow, who seemed to be subtly jockeying for position. Haden smiled as he saw me. Tallow glowered.

  “You live!” Haden said enthusiastically, giving me a giant, lingering bear hug, which I found increasingly embarrassing as those around us watched. It then became downright uncomfortable as
Tallow crossed his arms and approached us.

  “I hope your quest was a success, Winter,” he said, then turned away, not waiting for an answer.

  The inside of the cavern was a beehive of activity–heavy pounding of metal was going on as armor and weapons were being forged or repaired. Haden still had me by the arm. “You look like you’re dead on your feet! Come eat and then tell me all that happened.”

  “You’re right, I’m exhausted. Can I maybe get a little sleep and then we’ll talk?”

  “Sure, sure.” His eyebrows furrowed. Did he think I was blowing him off? I was nearly too tired to care.

  I stopped. “Gregor died saving me. I’m so sorry.”

  “It...it is the way of the warrior. Gregor was born for battle. What more honorable way could he have died?”

  “Living would have been a better outcome.”

  “Yes, so that he may have fought again, but that cannot always be the case in war, Winter.”

  “I know, I know. I’m...truthfully, Haden, I am exhausted. We’ll talk later, I promise.” I headed off in the direction he said I should go. He had prepared for Cedar and me an area of the cavern that was far enough removed that it made the din of war preparation tolerable enough for sleep and even had a small cistern available for cleaning. Spring water welled up beneath it and pooled into a rock basin. Where it drained from there, I knew not; I assumed it flowed back into an underground stream. Looking forward to rinsing my face in the cool, mineral laden water, I walked with my head down just making sure to set one foot in front of the other, so when Tallow reached out and touched me, he caught me by surprise. If I’d had more energy I would have jumped; if I’d had my sword, he might be dead.

  “Tallow! You scared me. I’m going in to get some rest.”

  “Winter, we need to get out of this place.”

  “I just got back.”

  “I don’t like it here.”

  “Is it this place or a certain person?” I was not in the mood to mince words.

  “Maybe it’s both. What difference does it make?”

  “It makes a big difference, Tallow. These people took us in. Our friends are safe, or at least safer here. How long do you think we’ll survive out there on our own?”

  “You seem to have done just fine.”

  “Get to what you have to say, Tallow. I was just in a battle that saw a bunch of good men cut to pieces. One even died just to save me. I do not wish to fight, in fact, I don’t even want to talk. At least not right now.”

  “Winter, you and I have...” he paused.

  “Have what? I thought we had something too; I spent my life thinking it. And then you left. Maybe not physically, but emotionally you just checked out. One second we’re kissing and holding each other tight, the next you’re off with your friends and don’t want anything to do with me.”

  “So, so what, you go running into the first man’s arms you see?”

  “Haden? I didn’t go running into Haden’s arms. If anything, you drove me to him.”

  He wanted to punch something or someone. I could see it in the way his arms tensed and his hands curled into fists. He might have taken his anger out on the wall if it were not made of stone.

  “What...what are you saying? Do you love him?” His voice changed from anger to something else, something I’d never heard before.

  I scoffed. “What? Love him? I barely know him. What’s the matter with you, Tallow?”

  “I...I care about you, Winter. I only want what’s best for you.”

  “What’s best for me? How would you even know that? If you do still care, you have a funny way of showing it. I’m tired and dirty, Tallow. I smell like war and fear. I want to scrape this stench off of me both physically and spiritually. Then I want to sleep long enough that maybe when I wake I will be able to move forward with what I know must be done.”

  “I’ll leave you alone, then.”

  “Nothing new there.”

  He kept walking.

  “What’d he want?” Cedar seemingly pulled herself from the shadows.

  “You should know. You heard the whole thing.”

  “Yeah, but I’d like to hear your take on it.”

  “I’m going to clean up.” I walked past her.

  Beyond our small sleeping area, which thankfully was just curved away from the main living spaces, was a tight passage, a split in the rock wall that led to the small reservoir suitable for washing up. I had to admit, pulling my body through the cracks in the wall had me more than a little concerned; the library had been the only underground space I’d ever experienced. But it was so worth it when my feet touched on a small landing before the water. The room was narrow enough that by extending my arms I could nearly touch both sides. An oil lamp was burning inside a small niche in the wall off to my left, illuminating the room in a soft glow. Water dripped down the walls and collected in the shallow pool. I stripped my clothes off. I’d been eating more than I had my entire life, yet my body looked as if it was malnourished. I felt my collarbone, ran my hands across my breasts, then counted each rib. When I held my palms over my flat stomach, I wondered what my mother had been thinking when she cupped her hands under her pregnant belly–her fears, her hopes, her desires.

  I dipped my toe into the water. It was warmer than I was expecting, but I still braced for the cold as I slid in. The water came up to my neck, unnaturally warm and calming. I dunked my head and rubbed my scalp, releasing the numerous tangles from my hair. When I emerged, I felt rejuvenated and absolutely lulled at the same time. I also felt completely alone, body and mind, for the first time in months. I laid my head back against a small outcropping and closed my eyes. It was the voices drifting through the crevice that stirred me awake.

  “Where is she?”

  It was Tallow. He sounded so close I thought he was somehow in the room with me. I was about to answer, but decided that if he couldn’t find me on his own, then he was blinder than I thought.

  I’d been expecting Cedar to reply when I heard one of his friends say, “I swear I saw her come in here.” I instinctively covered up, although modesty had never been much of an issue for me. It was my body and I was proud of it, imperfections and all.

  “Tallow, I don’t think she’s going to come.” It was another of the four he was always with.

  “Then we’ll just take her, whether she wants to or not.”

  I gasped. I’d never heard Tallow sound so aggressive.

  “You’re not man enough,” one of his friends, Jakob, I think, said.

  “You don’t think so? How about I show you?”

  “Relax, Tallow. Put your fists down. I was just joking.”

  Fists? He was about to fight his friend? I would keep that in mind.

  “Wait…do you think she’s in there? That would mean she was naked.”

  “You go in there, Lunnel, and I’ll kill you.”

  “What the hell is wrong with you, Tallow? Come on guys, let’s get out of here.”

  I could hear his friends guffawing as they left the rest chamber. Tallow got close to the hole that led to the water basin. “Winter, you in there?” he called. He could have whispered and I would have heard him. His shout was deafening as it reverberated off the walls. I did not answer him. “You are still mine, and...” I heard him say. He must have been turning away as the last part of his statement trailed off. Goose pimples rose all over my exposed arms. The voice was that of my lifelong friend; it was the tone, the dark desperation with which he spoke the words that did not come from the Tallow I knew.

  I waited until I was sure he was gone before I dared make another ripple in the water. I debated whether I should leave the cistern immediately, but just the thought of putting on those filthy clothes after I’d just washed myself clean had me near to tears. Plus, Tallow might still be close enough to hear and if he figured out I was in here, he might try to force me to make a decision I was in no mood to make. While I waited, I decided to clean my clothes since I didn’t know whe
n I’d get another opportunity to break the dirt and blood free from them. Putting them on wet wasn’t on my list of favorite things to do either, but I just didn’t feel like I could linger back here any longer. I don’t know why I’d even bothered washing them–by the time I got back through the crevice I’d picked up more dirt than I’d gotten rid of. There were multiple piles of straw to lie down on; I was just choosing which one seemed the most plush when Cedar came in.

  “That’s what you call getting cleaned up? You look like a street child playing in the mud after a heavy rain.”

  “Tell me how you really feel, Cedar.”

  “I just did.” She cocked her head and was looking at me strangely. “I got you some new clothes. Well, actually your new boyfriend did.”

  “Haden?”

  “So you admit it!?”

  “Just give me the clothes, Cedar. These are wet and smell like something you tried to cook.” Cedar chucked them at my head. “Would you keep a look out while I change?”

  “Haden won’t mind.”

  “Cedar!”

  “Fine. I saw Tallow, by the way. He looked like he could gnaw through some bone, his jaw shut rigidly. What’s going on with him?”

  “I don’t know,” I told her truthfully. But I had my suspicions. I knew he was jealous of Haden. Did he have a reason to be? Maybe. I just hadn’t sorted it all out.

  “I think you’re lying.”

  “Thanks for watching the entrance,” I said sarcastically as I slid the much too large tunic over my head. “Did he deliberately give me the biggest clothes he could find?” I asked as I pulled the billowing shirt away from my body. “I could fit two of me in here.” The pants weren’t much better but at least they came with a belt that I could cinch tight. I looked like a kid that had come across some adult cast-offs. “Well, this ought to strike fear into the hearts of the enemy.” I extended my arms.