Tree of Ages Box Set

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Tree of Ages Box Set Page 6

by Sara C. Roethle


  “I hail from an area south of Garenoch, southeast of Greenswallow,” Finn answered simply, having rehearsed the words in her head.

  Liaden stared back at her, expressionless. “You do not speak or act like a country bumpkin,” she stated.

  Finn's pulse rose. She had not considered that she should act a certain way. “My father was a well-educated and traveled man,” she lied. She had never known such a thing as a father. Or if she had, she did not remember him.

  “And where was your father from?” Liaden asked, not giving Finn a moment to think.

  “At what point did it become polite to interrogate guests like criminals?” Branwen interrupted, saving Finn a second time.

  Liaden eyed Branwen coolly, and answered with a curt nod. Kai observed the exchange with amusement. He was likely used to his lady's attitude, and chose to find it funny instead of vexing. Finn was going with the latter herself.

  “If ye all are done chattering,” Àed grumbled, “we best be movin on.”

  “Are we in a hurry?” Liaden snapped, riled and ready for an argument.

  “Storm,” Iseult remarked simply.

  Sure enough, a storm was brewing behind them, near Garenoch. Finn was ashamed that she had not noticed it. As a tree, a tiny shift in pressure would have been immediately evident, yet now she had to actually look at the sky to confirm Iseult's statement. Finn quickly stood and dusted herself off, frustrated that someone had seen the storm before her, and more than ready to be done with the current string of conversation. She strode to her horse, followed by the rest of the group. A storm was coming. The idea resounded with her much more than it should have.

  Chapter Seven

  They kept up a brisk pace, but the storm gained on them regardless. As soon as they found shelter, they would need to make an early camp. If they found shelter.

  The landscape was still wide open, with the stunted, twisted trees here and there. The cloud-darkened sky and lack of landmarks made Finn feel like she was watching the same scene over and over again as they rode. Her half-breed horse stumbled often as it trotted across the rocky landscape, unused to the lively pace. The animal would not be able to keep up with the steady speed for as long as the others, and Finn began to fear being left behind.

  Most of the party rode in grim silence, except for Branwen. She did not seem overly affected by much. Finn caught pieces of Branwen's one-sided conversation whenever the wind blew her way, but the conversation was growing more distant as the gap between the group widened.

  Iseult, who was at the head of the now distant party, suddenly veered his horse from the path without a signal to say why he was doing so. The other horses followed without question. Finn searched their surroundings through squinted eyes for an explanation, and found it in the form of a far-off rocky overhang. It was the first real shelter they'd seen that day.

  Just then, the first raindrops fell. Soon the rain turned into a flurry from the wind, pelleting Finn with little drops from all directions. She was overcome with gratitude for Iseult as the first riders neared the overhang. The area appeared large enough to fit all members of the company as well as their horses. As the other riders reached shelter, Iseult left them to double back toward Finn and Àed. He did not speak as he reached them, and instead rode beside Finn silently as she urged along her less than spry mount. Finn kept her eyes forward, not acknowledging Iseult's unwarranted show of chivalry.

  The rain had just soaked through Finn's cloak and was beginning to touch her clothes underneath as she reached the overhang. She dismounted, not caring how much she had to hike her skirts up to do so, to lead her horse out of the rain. Kai had already set to unsaddling the horses that had first reached shelter, while Anders built a fire from branches gathered before the rain could soak them thoroughly.

  When Kai finished unsaddling his own mount, he approached Finn and reached out a hand for her reins. Finn offered them, expecting him to tease her in some manner, but he simply took the reins and winked at her from below his damp hair that looked almost black with moisture. Iseult and Àed followed and tended to their horses themselves.

  Everyone gathered around the fire as it roared to life, shedding damp cloaks and hanging them wherever they could to dry. Finn, who had been late to sit down as she'd been preoccupied with watching the storm, was forced to sit close to Iseult in order to be near the fire. She felt slightly uncomfortable, but the opportunity to thaw her hands by the flames was too much to pass up. The man sat rigid as a pole, likely as uncomfortable with Finn's nearness as she was with his. To Finn's other side sat Branwen, who offered her a comforting smile, prompting Finn to relax the tension that radiated through her body. If Liaden's questions began again, she wasn't sure what she would do.

  Finished with the horses, Kai wedged himself between Finn and Branwen, turning to grin at Finn while ignoring the other woman. Finn tried to make herself as small as possible, but found her shoulders pushed against both Iseult's and Kai's arms. She wasn't sure which man made her more uncomfortable, but she was leaning toward Iseult. Kai seemed harmless. Iseult did not.

  “Oh for heaven's sake,” Branwen scolded Kai. “Give the woman a break.”

  “I just don't want our guest to get cold,” Kai explained, waggling his eyebrows at Finn. “You told us to be polite.”

  “I'm feeling mighty cold over here!” Àed exclaimed from across the fire. Liaden, who was positioned between Anders and Àed, let out an abrupt laugh.

  Stunned silence fell over the rest group as they tried to figure out whether or not the Mountebank was joking. Rather than relieving the tension, Àed warmed his hands by the fire and ignored everyone's glances, though when no one else was looking, he gave Finn a sly wink.

  The joke unfortunately was not enough to rattle Kai, who stayed right where he was. Though Finn was annoyed, she was also quite cold, so she settled in and took what warmth the man's shoulder against hers had to offer.

  The tea kettle reappeared from the satchel strapped to Liaden's saddle, and soon Finn had the added warmth of a steaming mug in her hands. As they drank their tea, Anders eyed Àed expectantly, but was obviously too afraid to speak.

  “I think,” Finn began, breaking the silence, “that you ought to live up to your half of the bargain old man, before Anders bursts from anticipation.”

  Liaden smirked, surprising Finn with a second sign of mirth that evening. “Yes,” she agreed. “Do entertain the lad, this bursting business sounds like a mess.”

  Àed grunted, but then acquiesced. “What would ye like to hear, lad? Nothing too personal mind ye.”

  Anders was practically bouncing with excitement as he tried to think of what to ask first. “What about your travels with Caratacus Loch'le?” he replied quickly. “So little is truly known about the man.”

  Àed cleared his throat as everyone turned their attention to him. “Caratacus,” he began, “was a liar and a cheat . . . but so was I, so our partnership worked out quite well, as long as we didn't lie to each other. At least not too much.”

  As Àed continued with his story, Kai reached out and tried to put an arm casually around Finn. She glared at him and whispered, “Don't push it.”

  He dropped his arm, but leaned close to her ear and whispered back, “You can't blame a man for trying, eh?”

  Finn smiled in spite of herself, and turned to whisper, “I imagine you try quite a bit, and get blamed for it all the same.”

  Kai shrugged and pressed his shoulder back against hers. It seemed he would take what he could get. No one else noticed the exchange, all enthralled in Àed's story. All except Iseult. Finn thought that he missed very little, though at the moment he was looking out toward the sky and the worsening storm.

  Àed continued his stories as the sky slowly turned to night. Finn stared out into the near-darkness, wishing for a reprieve, but the rain only increased. It was fortunate that their swatch of land rose up to meet the base of the overhang, else they would have been soaked regardless of the stone abo
ve their heads. The horses, not enjoying the rain either, stomped their hooves uneasily and searched the ground for patches of yellow grass.

  Slowly, as Finn drifted off to sleep, her head came to rest upon Kai's shoulder. The last thing she heard was Anders making a joke at Kai's expense. Something about only being able to woo women when they were fast asleep. The next thing she knew was that thunder woke her, and she had somehow gotten wrapped up in her bedroll with Àed on one side of her and Branwen on the other.

  She sat up slightly to see everyone else fast asleep in their bedrolls, except for Liaden, who was up to stoke the fire with twigs and branches scraped up from their dry swatch of land. Liaden noted that Finn was awake, then looked past her into the darkness.

  The pale woman's dark eyes, illuminated by the fire, narrowed at something in the distance. “Did you see that?” she whispered.

  Finn crawled out of the bedroll and away from her sleeping companions to look out into the darkness, but she could make out little through the fog. “See what?” she whispered back, still looking for what the woman had seen.

  Liaden left the fire and walked closer to Finn. They both crept toward the edge of the overhang, but stopped out of reach of the rain. “I saw something move out there,” Liaden explained quietly. “Like a tall, white figure in the dark, but when I looked again, it was gone.”

  Finn could smell woodsmoke and the scent of musky herbs as Laiden hovered beside her. They looked off into the darkness together, but nothing moved. They both nearly jumped out of their skins as another face appeared between them.

  “Are you two well?” Kai whispered.

  “I saw something,” Liaden explained breathlessly.

  “Probably just a muntjac or some other creature,” Kai suggested.

  “What's a muntjac?” Finn asked quietly.

  Kai leaned his face close to hers as they gazed out into the darkness. “It's a little furry animal with horns and hooves that will nibble your toes in the night, if you're not careful.”

  Liaden smirked. “Only the first part of that statement is true, Finn. It was not a muntjac. It was larger.”

  Kai shrugged. “Well I don't see anything now.” He turned to Finn. “I will gladly nibble your toes, if the muntjac fails to do so.”

  Liaden gave Kai a gentle shove. “Go to sleep you lascivious fool.”

  Kai spared a final smile for Finn, but did as his lady bid him. Liaden took one last look out into the darkness, then did the same, crawling back into her bedroll without another word. Soon the camp eased back into the gentle sounds of slumber.

  That was all good and well for them, but there was no way that Finn would be able to sleep with the idea of something out there watching them. Anything could be out there in the dark. Finn's imagination went wild with thoughts of Bucca and other Tuatha De.

  When she was a tree, there were always beasts around in the night. Many of them even climbed and lived in her branches. It was a much different feeling though, when a bear would rather eat you than scratch his back against your bark, and a snake would rather bite you than curl up amongst your exposed roots. The Bucca she had enjoyed watching over the past few years now seemed fearsome to Finn, and she hoped that they were not lurking anywhere near their camp.

  Finn crawled back into her bedroll, but was still awake when the sun rose, which luckily was only two hours or so from when she first awoke. She untangled herself from her bedding and rose to restoke the fire. It had burned down to just a few embers, but with some dry grass and dead branches from underneath the overhang, she was able to get it burning again.

  She was startled when Àed walked up beside her to warm his wizened hands by the weak flames. There was still a light drizzle of rain outside of their shelter, painting the scenery in foggy blues and grays. His gray robes and hat matched the scenery perfectly. With the addition of his hair and beard, he would easily blend in from a distance.

  Finn stood and tugged her green cloak off the large rock she had draped it over. Even with the shelter of the overhang it had not dried entirely. The air was still cold, chilling the damp fabric, but at least the wind had let up.

  “What were ye fools goin on about in the middle of the night?” Àed asked without looking up at Finn.

  Finn let out a long yawn. “Liaden thought she saw something in the darkness.”

  “Hmph,” was Àed's only reply as their other companions began to rise.

  They quickly ate a breakfast of honey bannocks, then returned to the road, wanting to get as far as possible before more bad weather came. The light drizzle of rain was annoying, but with any luck they would make it to the next burgh, and the warmth of an inn that night.

  Chapter Eight

  They did not make it to the next burgh. Torrents of rain had forced the party to temporarily end their journey after only a few short hours of travel. This time there was no crag to be found, and the party found themselves gathered around the trunk of a great pine tree. The tree was much larger than Finn had been, with its lowest branches beginning well above Finn's head, providing a fair amount of shelter from the downpour, though there was little protection from the wind. The horses, unimpressed with this new shelter, hung their heads near the ground in defeat.

  Liaden peered out into the mist from her post beside Finn. “I swear I see something out there,” she said for the fourth time that hour.

  “Yer jumpin at shadows lass,” Àed grunted in reply.

  Liaden eyed the old man sharply, her dark eyes reminding Finn of a bird of prey . . . a wet and angry bird of prey. Her near-black hair hung loose, dripping rivulets of water down the sides of her dark cloak.

  “I am not a child to be jumping at shadows,” Liaden chided. “I've plenty of experience with travels. I'm not some scared little girl.”

  Àed shrugged as if unaffected by the scolding. He'd hung his sack-like hat from one of the tree's lower branches to dry, leaving his silver hair to whip about around his face. “Well I ain't seen nothin,” he grumbled as he wrapped his arms tightly around himself.

  Finn looked out in the direction Liaden had been scanning, wishing that she felt comfortable enough to stand near the woman for added warmth. There was something . . . as quick as she saw it, it was gone. Yet she could have sworn that she'd seen white figures out in the mist, swaying with slight movement.

  Finn gave Liaden a worried look, but Liaden was too distracted to see it. Finn turned her attention back to the distance, wanting to voice what she'd seen, but not wanting to be scolded as Liaden had. The white shapes came back into view. It was as if they flickered in and out of being with every blink, making Finn question whether she was really seeing them at all. The rest of their party continued to scan their surroundings, even as they brushed off Liaden's sightings as nothing more than her eyes playing tricks on her. Yet, it was clear to Finn that they did not see anything.

  The rain kept on, engulfing the party in darkness long before the sun had set on the horizon. Camp was made. Cold and miserable, the party gathered around the weak, sputtering fire with solemn wishes for a clear morning.

  After only an hour or so the fire was on its last limb, metaphorically and literally. There was little dry wood to be found, and the lower branches of the pine were too green to burn. Anders had taken to scraping up dry needles to throw into the fire, but by the time he came up with another handful, the previous one had already burned to nothing. Finn pushed her hands toward the dying embers, just as her body erupted in goosebumps that had nothing to do with the cold.

  At first Finn thought the figure was her imagination. Some specter her mind conjured up after her and Liaden's earlier sightings. Then he cleared his throat, and the entire company turned to face him.

  No one had seen him approach, he was suddenly just there. Before Finn could blink, Iseult was on his feet with a small dagger in his hand. Finn had no idea where the blade had come from, she'd never seen it on him before.

  “I mean no ill,” the figure said serenely barely glancin
g at Iseult and his threatening blade. “I only wish to share your fire.”

  “Name yourself, stranger,” Iseult ordered, at the same time Anders said, “There isn't much fire left to share.”

  The man gave Iseult a wide berth and approached the fire. As he walked, he removed the hood of his white cloak to reveal a completely bald head with skin so pale that, as the moonlight reflected off his face, blue veins could be seen flowing across his scalp. His large eyes shone in the darkness like those of a cat.

  “Ceàrdaman,” Àed observed.

  “The craftspeople?” Branwen questioned, obviously awestricken. “Travelers?” she said the word like it meant more than it should.

  “One and the same,” the man answered amicably. “It is good to be among those who know their history.”

  “Tricksters and thieves,” Iseult growled. “I know your people.”

  “And my people know you, Meirleach,” the man chuckled.

  Iseult glared at the man for a moment, then abruptly turned and stalked off into the rain.

  “I'm afraid we don't have much to offer you,” Branwen interjected, not at all put off by Iseult's departure.

  “Why would you offer this man anything?” Liaden questioned. The dark haired woman had backed away from the fire toward the base of the tree, so that only the pale oval of her face could be seen in the darkness.

  Finn noticed that the others had shifted positions as well. Anders stood behind Finn, as if she would shield him from harm. Kai stood near his mistress, but slightly closer to the fire, close enough that Finn could see him clearly as the flames flickered.

  Finn turned back toward the fire with a start. The flames were flickering. The man, Ceàrdaman as Àed had called him, held his hands up to the warmth with a calm smile on his face. His fingers were unnaturally long, making it seem like each one had an extra joint.

  “That's what you do with the Travelers,” Branwen explained. She sat closer to the man, showing no worry about his sudden manifestation. “You offer them food and whatever else you can give, and they share with you either a craft or a secret.”

 

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