In Wilder Lands

by Jim Galford

  “Yes, about this.” The bandoleer stopped as they passed the last of the tents. “He doubts the children are his. Again, this is not something that bothers my people, but it seems to bother him. That doubt makes him very crazy, so much that his spirit refused to come back unless I said I thought they were his. I do not think he even brings it up to the girl. Is quite funny how much he hated having you be the one to bring him back, no?”

  Estin felt deeply sick.

  “There is no way. None,” Estin stammered, not even sure if he was talking to Yoska or himself. “I’ve seen the kits. They’re foxes, through and through. No grey fur, no long tail, no stripes.”

  “Like the girl is, yes? Her mother is strange for a fox, I think? Almost look like cat. I must be wrong, though.”

  Estin sat down hard on the ground, trying to wrap his mind around it. Yoska was right. Sometimes wildlings who mixed breeds had children that looked entirely like one or the other parent. Other times, they would be a strange mix, like Asrahn. The kits could be anyone’s. All he could be sure of was that at least one of their parents was a fox-breed wildling.

  “Is not said to make you worry,” said Yoska, laughing as he pulled Estin back onto his feet. “I tell you this so you can be prepared, if he gets too jealous. Is always better to know the sword is coming. When lady fox is done arguing, you may wish to speak with her.”

  His head spinning, Estin just nodded, not even realizing at first that Yoska had left him. When he looked around, the man was nowhere to be found.

  With effort, Estin managed to keep his feet under him and began walking back into the camp. He crossed the outer tents slowly, finally reaching his own at the middle. There, he found Sohan, darting about and chittering, trying not to be caught by the two kits, who giggled and ran around as they tried to corner him. At one side of the clear area, Feanne sat on the ground in a fresh skirt and cloth shirt, watching the two children play.

  “Why did you come back for us, Feanne?” Estin asked, sitting down a little ways from her, facing the children and trying to keep his voice low so that they could not hear them talking. “If you had just gone, he would have never seen what the Miharon had gifted to you.”

  Feanne’s ears twitched.

  “I came back because I was not about to lose a life-mate, while my apprentice fought to the death to save him. I could turn that tide and I knew it. I just could not be sure how high the price would be. Once I read my father’s note…I had no choice but to elicit the power the land has given me.”

  “What did he say that that changed your mind?”

  She smiled and answered, “It said, ‘Forgive me and seek your own path in life without fear of what I wish.’ That was all. It was the most fatherly thing he has said since the day I took the Miharon’s boon. It was the call to embrace my gifts that I had always needed. It made me think about letting a friend and my mate die just to hide those gifts…I had to come or I would never be able to forgive myself, even if you both lived.”

  Trying to force himself to ask the question that was bothering him, Estin found himself having to ask something different. He was not ready to even address the issue of the kits.

  “I need to know something, Feanne. For better or worse.”

  She cocked her head slightly, but said nothing.

  “Why did you choose not to let me fight for you? Things worked out…but you couldn’t have known that at the time.”

  Feanne lowered her head, closing her eyes.

  “I wanted to, Estin. Believe me. I also knew that you could not win against him. He would have killed you on the spot and that would have hurt me far more than leaving with someone I did not love.”

  Estin let that be for a time, smiling occasionally as the three wrestling in front of them made an adorable scene. He sometimes wondered if Sohan would ever grow up.

  “Will you be leaving soon?”

  Sohan noticed Estin and stopped to wave at him, only to be pounced from both directions, raising a plume of dust as he hit the ground hard.

  “If Insrin has his way, yes. That is, when he gets done being mad at me for questioning his decision and comes back into camp to speak with me. Could be a day or more, knowing his temper. Hopefully, he will at least give the kits and I time to relax before we must travel.”

  “Do you know where you’ll go?”

  Feanne shook her head, not taking her eyes of the kits.

  “He will not tell me. I think he fears I’ll tell you.”

  “Would you?”

  Feanne smiled and slowly turned to look at him.

  “Would it matter? I have this feeling you will show up anyway. I found the nicest bear skin on Oria a while ago…”

  Grinning at first, Estin watched the children for a while with her. Soon, Oria bounded up to him, barely coming up past mid-shin, and stuck her tongue out at him.

  “I told you my mommy could protect us.”

  “That you did.”

  Feanne’s look became annoyed and she raised an eyebrow as the little female began hooting as she tried to grab Sohan’s tail.

  “You really could not leave well enough alone, could you?” Feanne asked him.

  “Curiosity was always a problem for me. I had to see them. You were always good with the pack’s kids, so I had to meet yours.”

  “You should not have even known about them, Estin.”

  He had no good reply for that and so kept his eyes forward, watching them play. He was starting to think that the kits might actually wear down Sohan, as Atall playfully clawed at the ferret with his dull claws, while Oria tried unsuccessfully to wrestle Sohan to the ground.

  “Insrin told Yoska that he believes the kits are mine. I’m sure he doesn’t remember saying it, but that’s what Yoska said the fuss was about in the circle,” Estin said at last, deciding against caution. “Is there any truth in that?”

  Feanne closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

  “That male is a fool and a thorn in my side. His petty worries about other breeds leads to half of our arguments. All it takes is the wrong color fur and he practically loses his mind.”

  Estin turned from where he was sitting to face her.

  “That wasn’t actually an answer.”

  “No, it was not.”

  She would not look at him. Feanne just hugged her knees and watched the children, her ears flat against her head. Estin soon noticed that she had even pulled her tail close to her body. She was terrified, whether she knew it or not.

  “Whoever’s children they are…,” Estin started.

  “They are my children,” she replied sharply, her ears snapping forward as she raised her voice enough that the kits looked towards her. “I have told him that and now I apparently must tell you the same thing. He is their father, in as much as he is my mate. Beyond that, they are my children and no male is about to take them away from me! No one!”

  She rose to her feet, confronting Estin, who just looked up at her calmly.

  “I suggested no such thing, Feanne.”

  Feanne put a hand to her head and sat back down, then covered her face in her hands.

  “He wants to flee to safer lands and take the children. Whether I go, he’s less concerned about.”

  “Feanne, you are welcome here, as are they. There is no reason to run. If our camp needs to move, it will, but there is no sense in two adults running off in a random direction, toting children. They’re safer here, at least for now.”

  “Try telling him that.”

  Feanne took a deep breath and then looked back to her children, her eyes wet.

  “This is what I’ve become, Estin. I spend every day worried about them. I don’t think you have any idea how scared I’ve been. I thought when we turned back the attack, things would get better, but I’m still scared of what is coming. I used to think I could face anything…”

  “I do understand,” he told her. “Fear for another is a lot harder than fear for yourself.”

  “No, you really don’
t,” she said shakingly, wiping tears from her eyes. “When I found out I was pregnant, I was terrified. Four months of nonstop fear at what the children would look like. There were days I almost wished I would lose the pregnancy to avoid the fear, as much as it shames me to say that.

  “That is not even just about you, Estin. My mother’s heritage could have shown itself. That would have been all it took for Insrin to rage about the other breeds and about mixed-breeding. I had no way of knowing how badly he would react, or if he would hurt the children.

  “The night I was to give birth, I tried to sneak out of the village. I wanted to hide somewhere to have them, so that I knew whether they were safe. When I was caught and brought back for my own safety, I kept a knife under the pillow the whole night, ready to fight for them against my own mate.”

  “Is he really that bad?” Estin asked, wondering if he had gotten things wrong from his spying.

  “No…and yes. He loves me and our children. I do not believe he would even try to hurt us. He’s a better mate then I could have hoped for, but he has his areas that just eat at him. If he were to go into a rage at delivering another male’s children—or even thinking he was—I could not risk their safety.

  “When they were born with the right color fur, I felt so much relief that you cannot imagine. I thought the few things in my life that could endanger my mating were behind me.”

  Estin wanted to go to her, to console her, but that was just compounding the issue. He knotted his fingers together and remained seated where he was. He kept telling himself over and over that she was just his friend, and that he had to respect Insrin in his dealings with her.

  “Do you love him? Enough to follow him if he wants you all to run?”

  Feanne gave him an amused smirk, then looked back to the children.

  “He may not have been my first choice, but things have a way of working themselves out. He is a good mate, Estin, whether you believe it or not. I have learned to love him and would follow him no matter where he wishes to go…assuming he decides that he still trusts his children with a lycanthrope…even one that has control over her changes. So far, that’s his best excuse for why he should take them and run with or without me. The undead are almost an afterthought.”

  “If there is anything I can do, Feanne, just ask. I’ll stay out of the way though.”

  “Thank you.”

  She turned away from him, folding her legs under her and staring blankly at the children.

  Excusing himself softly, Estin stood and gave the children one more look and a half-hearted smile before heading back to his tent.

  *

  The next morning, Estin buried his face in his fur blankets and refused to get up. His body hurt from the fight the night before and he had come up with no good solutions to the problem at-hand. Moreover, with the undead aware of their existence, he dreaded another attack. All in all, he had no desire to do anything until he could sort some of it out.

  “Estin,” called Asrahn. He could see her peeking into the tent from his resting place under all the furs. Grumbling, he tried to dig himself deeper into the blankets in hopes of disappearing. “Are you awake?”

  “No.”

  “You really need to get up, child. Things are getting strange around here.”

  Groaning, he tossed the blankets aside and sat up slowly.

  “What now?”

  “Lihuan asked me not to talk of it yet. He wants you at his tent as soon as possible.”

  Estin rubbed his face and pulled on some pants, while Asrahn tapped her foot impatiently.

  “Ok, ok,” he mumbled, staggering after her as she led the way.

  They wandered through the bright early morning sunlight, with Estin barely conscious as he pardoned himself around a group of elves standing in the center of town. He had almost gotten past them when he stopped and turned around, staring at the group. He tried to follow Asrahn backwards, but ran into two dwarves that had been sitting near the old fire pit.

  “Asrahn…,” he asked, stopping.

  “You haven’t seen anything,” she called to him, holding open the flap for him. “Go inside, child.”

  Estin groaned again and walked into the tent. There sat Lihuan with two fully-armored human soldiers bearing the insignias of Altis’ high guard, as well as a middle-aged human in dark robes, his head shaven and face mostly covered by his hand.

  “More refugees?” Estin asked, tiredly blinking at them. “Welcome to the camp. I’m one of the healers here. I’m not really a morning breed, so if you don’t mind…”

  “Estin, sit down,” growled Lihuan, pointing a finger at a cushion. “You are being rude to our guests. They have stories you need to hear and you know how I love stories.”

  “Right,” he said, practically falling on the indicated seat. “Sorry.”

  “Please repeat for my latecomer what you were just telling me.”

  The robed man flinched a little, looking around at all of them.

  “I am here as an envoy of Turessi,” he explained, touching his forehead in some kind of greeting. It was then that Estin noticed the ornate tattoos around the man’s eyes, a match for those of the creatures that had killed Varra and so many others. “I wanted to explain what has happened…”

  Estin never even felt his anger rise. The next moment, he found himself being dragged off the man by the two human soldiers.

  “Estin, you will behave in my home!” Lihuan chided, motioning to Asrahn. “If he acts out again, restrain him by any means you feel necessary.”

  “…as I was saying,” continued the man, touching several scratches on his throat gingerly, “I am the ambassador of the Turessian clans to this region. Just over a year ago, I was given the orders to attend to the court of the duke of Altis to discuss options for a treaty between our peoples. When I arrived eleven months ago, I was declared an imposter and thrown into a prison cell.”

  “That is where we found him last month when we grabbed every living person we could find and fled the city,” noted the older of the two soldiers, his beard and moustache full enough to make a dwarf envious.

  “The Turessians had been advising the duke since I met Feanne,” Estin said, shaking his head. “I saw them in the court myself. That was…what…eight or nine months ago? They had been there for some time already at that point.”

  “Not Turessian,” the robed man professed firmly. “Lihuan tells me that you struck at them and they did not die. Is this true?”

  “Yes.”

  “They were not my people, I can assure you. As you can see by the wounds you’ve given me, I do very much bleed.”

  “So who are they?”

  The man pouted and took a deep breath.

  “Years ago, some of my people were experimenting with giving our ancestors the ability to remember their lives. They had believed it would be an even greater honor than simply animating their bodies, to be able to speak to others of the lives they had lived. In theory, it makes a lot of sense…”

  “Except for the animating the dead part.”

  “You are a healer…I understand your hesitation. You must trust that we take great care of our deceased and mean the utmost respect.”

  Estin growled and the man held up his hands.

  “Very well. It is not for everyone. Suffice to say that several of our ancestors were somewhat changed by the experience of waking up as undead and went a little crazy. They began amassing power and had to be restrained indefinitely. We built a barrier of sorts around them.”

  Estin rolled his eyes.

  “You imprisoned them?”

  “In a sense, yes. As all magic wears down eventually, the assumption was that since they were created before the barrier and both used the same essential magical arrangement, that they would deanimate before it dropped.”

  “Let me guess. The barrier dropped recently?”

  “No…actually they found a way around it. It would seem that with nearly limitless time on your hands, you can manage
to dig your way under a magical wall that extends nearly a hundred feet into the bedrock. They simply walked away.”

  “So how bad is this?”

  Lihuan focused in on the Turessian at that point.

  “That was just what we were getting to when you arrived,” he explained.

  The Turessian nodded and smiled at the others, looking extremely uncomfortable.

  “I do not have good news, there. Though most of our animations are like the crude zombies that I saw back in Altis, the ancestors possess the same powers they had in life. Those that were necromancers…they can create more like themselves. What’s worse, they no longer appear to care about who they raise. They started with the Altis graveyard, then the slums, then the market, and so on.”

  Lihuan stood slowly, using his cane to move towards the entrance of the tent.

  “There is more,” he noted, tapping Estin as he passed. “Come back outside.”

  The small group went out and Estin counted at least fifteen humans and elves in the area, with two dwarves arguing off to one side of the open area.

  “Up there,” Lihuan pointed, indicating a plateau to the south, “I have had the human forces set up their dwellings. There are very nearly a thousand warriors and many horses.”

  Again Lihuan turned, this time pointing to the east, beyond the blue wagons of the gypsies.

  “Another clan of gypsies arrived just ahead of the humans. They heard from their cousins about us and were the ones who led the humans here.”

  Estin just shook his head in amazement. Their little hidden camp was now a sizable city, with its own army.

  “What do we do, though?” Estin asked, mostly at the human soldiers. “Your city fell despite all your resources. We have nothing here. I don’t care how many men you bring, we cannot hold back the entire population of Altis.”

  “No need,” stated the older soldier, pointing briefly towards their camp. “We were able to secure envoys from the elven and dwarven realms, before they reached the city. They brought word from Lantonne and beyond.

  “This war isn’t just here. It’s spread across at least three kingdoms eastward and who knows how many others. The war golems are taking a toll on the undead, keeping them mostly out in the plains. The plan is to drive the undead into one area long enough to sacrifice one war golem to wipe out the entire local army. If the plan works here, we will try the same thing elsewhere.”