Treva's Children

by David L Burkhead

  Embron cast a fearful glance into the valley below. He wiped his hand across his mouth, then looked back. He picked up his pack and looked back again.

  Talisa placed a hand on Embron’s shoulder. “If it scares you, if it scares me, how much more will it scare the Schahi? Perhaps they won’t dare it.”

  Embron just looked at her.

  “No, I don’t believe it either.” Talisa shrugged. “But what choice have we?”

  Embron shook his head. “None.”

  Talisa nodded. “Go. I will wait here for the others and send them down after you.”

  Talisa reached out a hand for Shago as he climbed the last slope before the crest of the ridge. Two of the dogs bounded up the slope and sat beside Talisa, the third followed close on Shago's heels. Shago stumbled in the snow churned up by the rest of the group. He fell. The snow started to slide, carrying Shago and the dog with it. The dog yipped in pain and fear. The other dogs, at Talisa's side, set up a frightened barking.

  "No!" Talisa lunged after Shago, trying to catch hold of his cloak, to stop his slide downward. More snow joined the downward slide. Something, or someone, caught Talisa's own cloak, jerking the cloak pin back hard against Talisa's throat. Her lunge stopped short with her fingers a mere handspan away from the hem of Shago's cloak. She fell, face down in the snow. A loud roar echoed across the ridge as the sliding snow grew into an avalanche, the noise shaking loose more snow.

  Talisa pushed herself up out of the snow. Shago was nowhere to be seen. Behind Talisa, Banev sat, her legs spread, the hem of Talisa's cloak clutched tight in her hands, her eyes wide.

  The dogs ceased their barking, lowered their heads, and whined.

  Another one, Talisa thought. Another of her people she had failed to protect.

  She threw back her head and screamed.

  Eventually, voices penetrated her anguish.

  "Milady? Please, milady."

  Talisa wiped at her eyes. Banev clutched at her shoulder, her eyes wide this time not with fear, but with concern. Talisa placed her hand over Banev's, smiling slightly in reassurance. She shielded her eyes, one hand above and one below as she had seen Embron do, to survey the results of the avalanche.

  "At least that will stop the Schahi," she said, half to herself. "Or slow them. It only cost the life of a good man, a loyal man."

  She turned away from the scene of the avalanche to face the green valley on the other side. Embron was scrambling up the slope toward her, as were Ranthar and two others. Talisa waved down at them. She took Banev's hand and started down the slope. Pausing a moment, she whistled in the way she had seen Shago whistle. The two remaining dogs thumped their tails once each and slowly came after her.

  Talisa sat leaning back against a tree, her eyes closed. Despite the warmth, the strange, unnatural warmth, she felt chilled to her core. She could hear her people chatting as their fear of this unnatural spring in the midst of winter faded to be replaced with simple pleasure in the warmth, in the ripe pears and apples, and in the simple knowledge that the path behind them was now blocked, deferring for at time the Schahi threat. She could smell venison cooking over a fire.

  The sound of voices faded, as if, one by one, the people stopped talking. The last voice faded, leaving only the sound of the brook and the popping of the fire.

  Talisa opened her eyes. On the far side of the brook a woman stood. Tall, almost six feet, her straight brown hair falling alongside her neck to disappear behind her back. She wore a brown tunic and trousers. In her left hand she held a gnarled staff, fully eight feet long. A fierce scowl creased her face.

  Talisa stood.

  The woman pointed her staff at Talisa. "This valley is sacred to Treva. To defile it is death."

  Talisa's mouth went dry. She approached the woman. "We meant no harm. Please, My Gracious Lady, allow us to rest until tomorrow and we will depart."

  The woman set the butt of her staff on the ground. "I am not your lady. Your lives were forfeit when they crossed into this land."

  Talisa saw no pity in the woman's eyes. Treva, unlike the Threefold Twins, cared little for people. She gave her love to the wild things of the world, to the plants and animals, the rocks and streams. Still, Talisa tried once more to plead her case. "We did not come of our own free will. The Schahi..."

  "I am aware of those abominations. The avalanche stopped them. And yet you came hither anyway."

  Talisa stepped forward and dropped to her knees. "Please, I beg you. If there must be a punishment, let it fall on me. I lead these people. It is my responsibility, not theirs."

  The woman stared at her for a long moment, then nodded. "Very well. These your people may stay until the morning. Your life I claim." She turned. "Come with me."

  "What?" Talisa stood. "You're just going to ask me to come with you?"

  The woman turned back. "You offered your life. Will you be forsworn?"

  Talisa took a step forward. Another. Embron lunged and grabbed her by the arm. "Milady!"

  Talisa laid her hand on Embron's, where it grasped her arm. "Lead my people to safety, Embron. Somehow. Somewhere. That is the charge I give you, my huntsman."

  "But, Milady."

  "I swore an oath," Talisa said. "I swore to do whatever needed to protect these people. If this is what's needed, this is what I will do."

  "But..."

  "Goodbye, Embron. Fare well. May the Twins keep you."

  She disengaged Embron's hand from her arm, turned, and followed the strange woman into the woods.

  The woman led Talisa deep into the woods. Eventually, they reached a small clearing. At one side of it a spring burbled, the water flowing into a small stream. A doe, her fawn at her side, nibbled at the dense grass that carpeted the clearing. Birds chirped in the trees. Among the spritely melodies, Talisa heard the more mournful call of the vortrill.

  The grass gave under Talisa’s foot as she stepped into the clearing, cushioning her tread. She paused and stooped, to run her hand through the grass. Sunlight shining through the leaves speckled the ground.

  Talisa smiled sadly. If she was to die, this was at least a pleasant place for it.

  “Are you coming?”

  Talisa looked up. The woman had stopped and turned back to face her. “Your pardon, lady.” Talisa stood and stepped forward. “If I may ask, how will you...? I mean, I see no block, no headsman.”

  “You are weary.” The woman pointed toward a small lean-to. “You may rest there. We will discuss your duties in the morning.”

  “My...duties?” Talisa frowned in puzzlement. “I do not understand.”

  The woman studied Talisa for a moment. “I claimed your life. I know what you thought. You were meant to think it. But your death would serve no purpose. It is your life that I need.”

  “Lady, in return for the safety of my people, I would serve you willingly. But I am already sworn to the service of Aerioch.” She spread her hands. “You asked earlier if I would be forsworn. I answer you now that I would not.”

  The woman stepped closer and looked down at Talisa, her face hard. “You are not forsworn. Aerioch is no more. The capital is fallen.” She paused. When she spoke again, her voice was soft. “Your husband, and your son, rest in the halls of The Nameless One.”

  Somehow, Talisa did not doubt the woman’s words. She sank to her knees. Tears filled her eyes but refused to fall. She had believed, she had feared, but now she knew. Truly she was alone in the world.

  The woman reached down and placed a hand under Talisa’s chin. She tilted Talisa’s face upward. “Death voids all oaths. The death of a man, the death of a woman, or the death of a kingdom. Your life belongs to me now. Swear it.”

  Talisa’s voice came in choked sobs. “I swear. I will serve you in any capacity you desire, until your death or mine releases me.”

  The woman nodded. “I accept your service.” She released Talisa’s chin. “Now, you may rest in the shelter. The spring is clean. If you thirst, you may drink. The apples and pears
are ripe and you may take them if you hunger. We will speak more in the morning.”

  With those words, the woman vanished.

  Talisa blinked and stared at the spot where the woman had stood. Wizardry. Powerful wizardry. She sighed and looked around the clearing. If she was to live after all, then she would need to eat. The ache in her heart on learning the fate of her family rose up within her but she ruthlessly pushed it back down. There would be time for that later.

  As promised, she saw apple and pear trees around the edge of the clearing, heavy with fruit. Interspersed among them were oak, maple, and ash. She plucked one of the apples and bit into it. Sweet juice burst into her mouth. She swallowed the mouthful and eagerly bit into the apple again. She plucked another apple and wandered over to the stream. The water was clear and cold, tasting slightly of minerals, but far better than the melted snow that had been her only drink for weeks.

  Finally, she examined the shelter. A lean-to, built on a frame of sticks and thatched with bundles of grass. Four logs, each about as thick as her arm, shaped a rectangle under the shelter. Grass piled high within that rectangle formed the only mattress.

  The baroness she had been would have scoffed at such bedding but now? Now it seemed the gods’ own palace.

  She lay upon the grassy bed and finally closed her eyes. And so, with hunger and thirst allayed, with at least some comfort and the prospect of rest, the pain of her many losses could no longer be denied. Her cheeks grew damp as tears welled up out of her eyes and her chest heaved with silent sobs.

  And in the distance, the vortrill sang a mournful lullaby until Talisa finally found comfort in sleep.

  As Talisa slept, she dreamed. She dreamed she was a trout in a brook, resting in the dead space behind a rock.

  A fly fell in the water. She darted out, snapping up the fly in her mouth then turned and swam back to the rock. The fly did not fill the hole in her belly and so she kept a close eye out for other things to eat. A few minutes later a grasshopper fell into the stream. She swam for it but another fish, a perch, reached it first.

  Still hungry, she returned to her rock.

  Something strange intruded in the water near her rock, confusing her. Before she could consider what to do, something rubbed against her belly.

  That was pleasant. She paused. The pleasant sensation continued. She did not have eyelids to close but she went into a half-drowse.

  Something clamped around her body. She squirmed, trying to escape but it was too late. She felt herself lifted. The water was gone. Her gill flaps flared as she tried to breathe, but no water flowed over her gills. She could not breathe. The clamping released and she was somersaulting through that thin stuff above the water. She landed on a surface. She twisted and flopped, struggling, desperate to reach the water. Her muscles burned with the effort. Gradually, her flopping weakened. She lay, still trying to breathe. And all went dark.

  Talisa woke with a start, gasping for breath. Air. Air filled her lungs. She felt the sides of her neck. No gills. Of course not. She was human, not a fish.

  As panic subsided, she took note of her surroundings. The sun had set. The lesser moon cast a dim glow over the clearing. The woman, in whose service Talisa now lived, squatted next to the shelter. She studied Talisa for a moment, then nodded. “You have slept enough. Come with me.”

  Pushing aside the memory of her strange dream, Talisa rolled out of the crude bed and rose to her feet. The woman stood as well and stepped back. “Eat. Drink. We have much to do tonight.”

  Talisa nodded. She looked toward the apple tree from which she had taken fruit, then back to the woman.

  “Apples, yes.” The woman waved toward the stream that flowed from the spring. “Onions.” The woman sighed. “Those will not be adequate. There will be hickory nuts along the way.”

  Talisa hesitated. The woman frowned. “Well, go and eat. Your life belongs to me. It is no plan of mine that you starve.”

  Feeling self-conscious, Talisa went to the apple tree and plucked two of the ripe fruit. She tucked the apples into a pouch at her belt. From the mud alongside the stream, she pulled up several small onions and rinsed them off in the flowing water. She began to gnaw on one, grimacing at the sharp taste. She squatted and scooped up a handful of water which she gulped greedily, the memory of the trout dying for lack of water still in the back of her mind. She drank several more handsful of water then stood, holding the bundle of onions in her left hand.

  The woman nodded. “Good. You can eat as we walk. Come with me.”

  The woman waited at the edge of the clearing for Talisa to catch up. When Talisa reached her, she raised a hand, pointing at one of the trees. “Oak.” She pointed at another. “Silver Maple.” Another. “Ash. These you know.”

  “Yes, I...”

  The woman held up a hand. “This valley is Treva’s garden. You must know every plant, every animal in it if you are to serve me.” She gestured at a bush covered with flowers. “Night blooming jasmine.” The woman sniffed. “Breathe its scent.”

  Talisa leaned close and inhaled the scent of the bush. A sweet odor that seemed to fill her head.

  “Come,” the woman said. “There is more.”

  Through the night, they walked, the woman pointing out various plants and giving them names. Talisa tried to remember but by the first gray light of dawn she was hopelessly lost.

  She saw a ruddy glow in the distance, the light of a fire. The woman touched Talisa on the arm. “I have decided to let them stay for a time. I will tell you what they may take, where they may hunt. You will tell them. Let no one disobey on pain of death.”

  Relief flooded Talisa. Her people were safe, for now. “Yes, Lady.” She hesitated a moment more then, “Lady, is it permitted to ask your name?”

  “I have been called by many names,” the woman said. “You may simply call me Mistress.”

  Talisa bowed her head. “Yes, Mistress.”

  “Now go, reassure those people that you still live lest they do something foolish. Tell them that, for now, they may collect the fruit of the trees near that clearing. The fish are plentiful in the streams and need to be thinned. They may take them to eat so long as they do not waste. Then, when you have done this, return here.”

  Talisa bowed. “Yes, Mistress.”

  Tears fell down Talisa’s cheeks as she turned away from Mistress toward the light of the fires. Safe. Her people were safe.

  Embron looked up from tending the fire as Talisa stepped out of the woods. "Milady!"

  He leapt to his feet and dashed to her, almost bowling her over. He wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her into the air, spinning around once. "Milady, I thought you dead."

  "If you would set me down, Huntsman, I will explain."

  Looking chagrined, he set her on her feet, then stepped back. Talisa opened her mouth to speak but before she could, Embron dropped to one knee and bowed his head. "Forgive my presumption, Baroness."

  Talisa stepped forward and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Rise, Embron. There is no presumption. Gather the others and I will explain."

  As Embron went to call the others, Talisa turned her eyes to the camp. Several lean-tos made of deadfall and grass formed a rude circle. Talisa nodded at that. Embron had done well. If Mistress truly served Treva of the Wilds, then she would frown on harm to her garden.

  The fire at the center of the circle had burned down to coals. Above it, tied to sticks, roasted several trout. Talisa's throat clutched as she remembered her dream of the evening before.

  Embron gathered the others. As they passed her to gather on the grass, several reached out furtive hands to touch her, as if not believing she were real. She smiled and nodded to each one.

  When the last had settled in the group, Embron stood. "Milady, what happened? I thought..."

  Talisa nodded. "I know. I thought I went to my death. The lady of this place, Mistress, said that she did not claim my death, but my life. I am sworn to serve her now."

  "
But...the King?"

  "Aerioch is no more," Talisa said. "The King, if he still lives, has no kingdom, no crown. I have never broken oath. Not to husband. Not to crown. Death releases all oaths, the death of a kingdom. So Mistress has said. So I believe."

  Banev stood. She hugged herself, looking very frightened. "So what do we do, Milady?"

  Talisa swept a hand, indicating the shelters. "For now, rest. Mistress permits you to stay for a time so long as you take only what she permits and hunt only what and when she instructs." She pointed to the trees. "You may take the fruit." She stretched a hand toward the brook. "You may take the fish. I presume she'll give other instruction later."

  "Milady," Embron reached out a hand to her. "We could just leave. This Mistress demands too much for an accidental intrusion. Let's leave. With the trail broken, the Schahi won't find us again. I'd rather brave the snow."

  "No, Embron. I will not be forsworn. Also--" Talisa put her hands on her hips and leaned forward. "You have not seen her power. I have only seen a small part of it. But I do not doubt that if we anger her we will all die."

  Talisa returned to where she had left Mistress.

  Mistress scowled at her. “You did not eat.”

  Talisa shrugged. “You did not say I could.”

  Mistress’s scowl deepened. “Is that the way you keep your oath? To do as you are bid and no more?”

  “I am sorry, Mistress,” Talisa said. “I do not know what is permitted. I am, perhaps, overcautious.”

  Mistress nodded. “Well enough. I will remember that.”

  Together, they walked deeper into the wood. Mistress continued to name the various plants they encountered and tell Talisa about them. This one reduces fever. That one can help a weak heart, or stop it.

  They reached a tree heavy with nuts. Mistress reached up and plucked two of them. “Hold them in your hand like this.” Mistress placed the two nuts into her right hand, one low against the base of her thumb and the other farther up, next to the fingers. “Squeeze, one nut against the other.” She handed the nuts to Talisa.