Tree of Ages Box Set

by Sara C. Roethle

  Was Finn going to tell her the truth? Did it matter? “You don't have to explain,” Bedelia cut in. “You saved me. That’s the end of it.”

  Finn turned to her and smiled. “You don't have to explain either, about the armor I mean. I owed you a saving.”

  Bedelia smiled too, though she felt sick to her stomach. Keiren had not shared her plans, but Bedelia was beginning to hope that Keiren did not intend to harm Finn. It was odd, but at some point, while Bedelia had been working so hard to gain Finn’s trust, Finn had gained hers.

  Finn groaned as the first rays of sunlight hit her face. She felt like she hadn't slept at all. Bedelia had claimed that the fire would keep them safe from any more wolf creatures that might be out in the night, but Finn hadn't been so sure. She suspected that Bedelia's injury was more serious than she was letting on, and it prevented her from wanting to travel in the night.

  Still, none of the creatures had returned, so perhaps Bedelia was right. Or perhaps Finn had simply killed them all. She swallowed a lump in her throat at the thought. What had happened to unleash these strange powers that dwelled within her? Thinking of her people, she reminded herself that she should just be glad that they hadn't stolen her away in the night again.

  Bedelia groaned from her bedroll, drawing Finn's attention. She looked across the fire at her friend’s pale, sweaty face.

  “Oh no!” Finn exclaimed as she pulled herself from her bedding. “Is your wound paining you?”

  She scurried to Bedelia's side as the sickly woman raised herself up on her elbows. “I just feel a little ill is all.”

  She reached out to place a hand on Bedelia's forehead. Bedelia flinched away initially, then looked apologetically at her, relaxing against the re-offered touch.

  “I'm afraid I know little about caring for injuries,” Finn commented, her hand still resting gently against Bedelia's tanned face, “but you feel very warm, and I don't think that’s a good sign.”

  Bedelia shrugged Finn's hand off and sat up fully. “It will be fine. We'll reach the Sand Road today, and from there Migris isn't far off.”

  Finn looked down at her lap. “I can't go to Migris. I must find my friends.”

  Bedelia opened her mouth to say something, but Finn cut her off with an irritated huff. “What am I saying?” she continued. “I can't expect you to travel to Migris alone and injured.”

  Bedelia smiled. “I'll be fine, but you'll have a better chance of finding your friends there, regardless. There is always the chance that they might leave the road to ask after you in some of the smaller burghs. You could very well miss them, then they'd reach Migris before you. If you're not there to meet them, they may move on.”

  Finn's eyes widened as she continued to crouch over Bedelia. “I hadn't even thought of that. You're right.”

  Bedelia nodded and crawled out of her bedding, rising slowly to her feet. With a grimace, she began to roll up her blankets, but Finn eventually had to take over when she noticed Bedelia swaying unsteadily. She was able to stand on the wounded leg, so that wasn't the problem, she just seemed dizzy. Finn feared the wolf's bite had made her friend sick. Her thoughts were verified when Bedelia allowed her to clean up the rest of the campsite herself. She must have really been feeling awful to give away such a large amount of control.

  Once everything was packed, the women climbed onto Rada's saddle and rode on toward the Sand Road. After a short while, Finn wrapped her arms around Bedelia's waist to steady her. Bedelia did not protest.

  By the time they reached the Sand Road, Bedelia seemed a little more herself. She was still pale and fevered, but at least seemed capable of holding herself up in the saddle. The sky was mostly clear, but the air was icy cold, and Finn could see a distant storm brewing behind them.

  They hurried onward, urging Rada to carry them away from the possibility of rain. They didn't get far, however, before they found that the road was blocked ahead of them.

  The first of the men to catch Finn's eye stood near to what amounted to a small village of brown and green tents, blending into the scenery. The men wore matching dark brown clothing, though she thought she could make out a hint of red on their chests.

  “We should go back,” Bedelia warned, spotting the men. She'd drawn Rada to an abrupt halt.

  Finn eyed the men warily. “They've already seen us,” she whispered. Though the men were still a good distance off, she recognized their motions as they gestured to where she and Bedelia waited. “If we turn from the road now, it might give them reason to pursue us.”

  “If we walk into their hands now,” Bedelia countered, “it might give them reason to keep us.”

  Finn glanced at the men again. The nearest ones were beginning to walk toward them. “They look like soldiers,” she observed. “Surely they mean us no harm.”

  Bedelia snorted. “You'll find that soldiers are often far more harmful than normal men.”

  Finn was alarmed by Bedelia's words, but it was too late, two of the soldiers had moved away from the rest of the group to approach them. They wore matching, dark brown woolen breeches, topped by slightly lighter coats, with the symbol of a red wolf stitched over the left side of their breasts.

  As the men neared, Finn noted that they had few features in common. One was dark haired and olive skinned, while the other was pale, with reddish blond hair. Despite their dissimilarities, they had a relative sameness about them, from their grim expressions, down to the braids holding back the hair on either side of their heads.

  “You needn't fear,” the red-haired man said, taking in Finn's worried expression as he reached them. She couldn't see Bedelia's face, but imagined it held her usual look of grim determination.

  “We are here to protect you from the Tuatha,” the darker man went on. “Have you sighted anything strange on your travels?”

  “Nothing,” Bedelia stated coolly, “and as we'd like to beat the storm, we must be on our way.”

  Both men turned calculating expressions to Bedelia. Finn found in that moment that she had the slight urge to strangle her friend. If she'd chosen to be polite, they'd likely already be on their way.

  “We can offer you shelter for the night,” the red-haired man began, “if that is your only concern.”

  Instead of answering, Bedelia flipped her cloak over her shoulder, revealing her armor, and the sword she had begun to wear at her waist once Finn stated that she wouldn't inquire about the armor.

  Both men held looks of surprise. “A soldier then?” the darker man asked. “To what lord?”

  Bedelia made no further move, except to answer, “One that could easily wipe out your entire contingent, should he find that you delayed his general.”

  The dark haired man frowned while the other looked around nervously. The first thought things over for a moment, then waved Bedelia and Finn away. “Off with you then, and give your lord our regards.”

  Bedelia nodded, then started Rada forward. Finn looked over her shoulder as they passed the men. Both watched the women with a mixture of caution and irritation.

  Straightening herself, Finn leaned close to Bedelia's ear to whisper, “They believed you so easily. Why?”

  Bedelia snorted, then whispered back. “Look at them,” she nodded toward the tents they were now passing, and the uniformed men scattered about. “They're unorganized. Little better than mercenaries. They'd not risk a confrontation with one of the more powerful lords, even if the chances were slim. Calling my bluff would not have been worth the gamble.”

  “But who are they?” Finn whispered, doing her best to avoid eye contact with any of the men they passed.

  “It doesn't matter,” Bedelia replied. “They've little to do with us, unless you think you'd find your friends among them.”

  Finn tried to imagine solitary, silent Iseult lounging comfortably and playing cards with some of the men. The thought was almost as humorous as the idea of cantankerous, brazen Àed chumming about with the men who'd questioned them.

  “No,�
� Finn replied softly, “I think it very unlikely that we would find them among these men.”

  “I like your friends more and more,” Bedelia mused.

  Finn smiled, though as she sat behind Bedelia in the saddle, the other woman couldn't see it. “I look forward to you meeting them,” she said happily.

  As they continued on in silence, Finn amused herself with thoughts of introducing Bedelia to her friends. Perhaps she would even continue to travel with them, if she had no other place to be. Of course, Finn would need to tell Bedelia the truth about herself first. She felt bad enough for lying to her as it was.

  Bedelia had claimed that Migris was only another day’s ride away. The truth would have to come out then, if Finn hoped to maintain her new friendship. Hopefully Iseult and Àed would be there to help Finn explain things. She had no idea where to even start, given that she didn’t understand half of what was happening to her.

  For now, she’d just have to focus on the first step. Finding Iseult and Àed. She didn’t know much about Migris, but she knew that it was very large, and that finding specific people there would be like finding a specific grain of sand in a field. She frowned as a sick feeling settled into her stomach. Making it through wolf attacks and soldier camps was nothing compared to what might be ahead of her.

  Anders had just thrown back his third dram of whiskey, when a group of uniformed men walked into the dank, little tavern residing in the middle of Port Ainfean. He paid them little mind, except to note the red insignia, stamped with a wolf, stitched over their hearts. He thought it an odd insignia for a private militia, but they were not his concern.

  “Tell me again how you lost your companions,” the little woman behind the bar demanded.

  She'd introduced herself as Malida, and though she had many broken teeth, and definitely looked her age, her small brown eyes conveyed a sharp intelligence that Anders found slightly intimidating.

  He raked his fingers through his dirty, dusky red hair in irritation. “I've told you ten times already. The girl's name is Finn. She's small, with light brown hair all the way down to her waist. She was traveling with three men, one around my age, with chestnut colored hair, one a little older, the scariest man I've ever met, and one elderly and short. They also travel with an angry young woman with long, dark brown hair.”

  “And why do you want to find them?” she asked as she poured more whiskey into his glass.

  Anders sighed. “I told you, I've lost my sister to a band of terrifying Faie creatures, and I believe Finn or the old man may be able to help me get her back.” He looked down dizzily at his fresh cup of whiskey, then back up at Malida. “You know, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you were trying to get me drunk.”

  Malida gave him a wry smile. “Your journeys have been long. I'm only trying to help you relax.”

  Anders looked down at the cup suspiciously, then grabbed it and took another sip. When he’d been unable to find his sister, he'd journeyed to the port. A caravan had been nice enough to pick him up along the way, which was convenient since he'd lost his horse and supplies.

  Some of the uniformed men began speaking loudly, drawing Anders' attention back to them. One stood and cleared his throat, then launched into a boastful story, something about defeating a giant, if Anders heard correctly.

  Malida's dark haired daughter carried a tray of drinks to the group, then rolled her eyes as she walked away. Anders shared her sentiments. The man's boasting was obviously a load of drivel.

  “Who are they?” Anders asked as he turned back to Malida.

  Malida glared past him at the men in question. “They call themselves An Fiach, the Hunt. They began to form up once the Tuatha sightings started, though I don't see that they've done much good. Mainly they drive near powerless conjurers and herbwives out of their homes, claiming that they're a danger to their neighbors.”

  Anders took another sip of his whiskey, though he was already quite drunk. “Do they mean to hunt the Faie? I'd advise them against it. Just look at what happened to my sister.”

  Malida narrowed her eyes at him. “And what did happen to your sister?”

  Anders placed his whiskey on the bar and eyed Malida steadily, at least he hoped it was steadily. He felt a bit dizzy. “I've told you ten times already.”

  Malida leaned forward, but was so short that she had to stand on her tip toes to get closer to Anders over the bar. “I might have seen your friends,” she admitted. “They might have left here going on several days ago.”

  Malida's daughter came up behind Anders and grabbed his whiskey, then took a sip. She'd heard his story multiple times as well, since her mother continually made Anders repeat it. “What my mother is trying to say,” she began, returning his whiskey to the bar, “is that the little waif Finn left the port with the black haired man and the elderly one. I saw them.”

  Her mother glared at her. “I hadn't yet decided to trust him,” she chastised.

  Her daughter snorted. “They've been gone several days already. I don't see that it'll do any harm to let him know.”

  Anders groaned. He’d never catch up to them at this point.

  Both Malida and her daughter's expressions softened. “They can’t have gone too far,” the daughter comforted.

  Anders looked back and forth between the two women, wishing he'd had less to drink so he could leave right that moment. With every second that went by, the hope of ever rescuing his sister dwindled. “Please tell me one of you at least knows where they were heading.”

  Both looked at him apologetically.

  A chair clattered to the ground behind them as one of the uniformed men stood abruptly. It was obvious that the men were not on their first drinks of the night, as the one standing thrust his beverage into the air, declaring that they would hunt the Faie to the ends of the earth. The other men raised their mugs in sloppy good cheer, saluting their comrade.

  A thought dawned on Anders, albeit a drunken and not well-planned out one. He stood, excusing himself from Malida and her daughter, then approached the table of soldiers. “I know of some Faie that need hunting,” he announced loudly.

  The men turned toward him as he came to stand, somewhat unsteadily, near their table. “You wouldn't know a Faie if it bit you on the bum,” one of the men with a head shaved nearly bald accused with a sneer.

  “Not true!” Anders exclaimed, thrusting a finger into the air. “I encountered an entire contingent of creatures that were half horse and half man. They stole my sister.”

  The man who'd spoken narrowed his eyes at him. “We've heard word of such a force, far west near the Melted Sea.”

  Anders jaw dropped. The sea was a good week’s journey away. He began to feel dizzy, and wasn't quite sure what he was doing speaking to the soldiers.

  “That just so happens to be where we're headed,” the man went on, “and we could use more able-bodied men.”

  Anders nodded along with a smile, though the words were all becoming a jumble.

  The man stood and offered him a hand. Anders, wondering how the man seemed so steady and well-spoken when too-strong whiskey was floating around the bar, gave the man's hand a hearty shake.

  “Welcome aboard!” the man exclaimed, then stood and offered Anders his own seat. “The next round is on me.”

  He sat down, wondering how he ever thought these men could be blustering fools. He watched his new friend approach Malida at the bar, but the tiny woman's eyes were all for Anders. She looked worried, though he couldn't imagine why.

  Chapter Four

  Finn craned her neck upward to take in the expanses of the impossibly high city walls as they approached Migris. She was sure she had never seen anything like them, even in her life before she was a tree.

  Bedelia glanced around warily as she and Finn walked side by side down the approach to the city, leading Rada behind them. Her condition since being bitten had steadily improved, but she was still weaker than she would admit. Finn could tell by the way she held herself, s
lightly hunched, and the way her feet lifted off the ground when she walked, as if every step was a struggle.

  Bedelia side-stepped a large puddle in the well-worn road. “I've never seen so many refugees gathered before.”

  Finn observed the clusters of people camped outside the city gates. The camps dotted the landscape for several miles leading up to the city. Most of the people looked cold, tired, and scared. “Where did they all come from?” she whispered, leaning close to Bedelia.

  Bedelia shook her head and averted her gaze as they passed a small child playing in the dirt at the side of the road. “It’s been ages since I stayed anyplace where I might hear of such news, but I'm sure we'll find out once we're in the city.”

  Finn’s brow furrowed as she watched a group of travelers reach the main gate ahead of them. The gate was lined with soldiers, who all shook their heads tiredly. After a few moments of discussion, the travelers turned away.

  “We may not be able to get into the city at all,” Finn commented, feeling distressed. Her goal was to ask after her friends in one of the city’s inns. Searching through the endless fields of refugees would take weeks.

  Bedelia didn't acknowledge Finn's comment, as the rejected travelers passed them by. She instead approached the guards confidently with her bow strapped across her back, and her sword in plain sight.

  “No one is allowed entrance into the city,” one of the guards stated, not bothering to look up at them.

  Bedelia stepped close to the guard, as Finn watched curiously. Bedelia spoke to the man in hushed tones, quiet enough that she couldn't hear what was said.

  A moment later, the guard stepped aside and gestured to the man in a lookout post atop the city’s wall. The man waved to someone on the other side of the wall, then the gates swung inward to admit Bedelia, Finn, and their horse. Finn tried to catch the eye of one of the guards as they passed through, hoping for an explanation, but the men had already turned back around to meet the next travelers.