These mountains formed the natural barrier that protected Dragon's Tooth from most intrusions from the mainland. Along the border, guarding the better traveled passes, towers had been erected with garrisons of soldiers. Nearest to us was Smit's Tower, on the main road from Vansheen. Two better traveled passes to our north led to the Harborlands and were guarded by larger towers and larger companies of soldiers, though the Harbormen were our allies and we feared little from them. Some small and ill-known passes existed, but these passes represented their own danger, unmaintained, unguarded, and with no one to come to one's aid if one were hurt or attacked by the creatures of the mountains or human bandits.
We didn't make it to the first village that night. Instead we camped and ate a hot meal around a guttering fire. Even the mute young woman was able to get some food down her gullet.
"What is your name?" I asked her. She looked at me, her face frowning in thought. She shook her head. After a moment's hesitation, I reached out to touch her hand. Selas stopped me with a very audible snort.
"You don't want to know what she knows."
I looked at him and found him irritating for some reason. Ignoring him, I reached out again and grasped her hand.
There was nothing to know. All that was in her was blank. I caught a glimpse of a face, a second of stark fear, then my own face above her, the cup of swamp tea in my hands. I released her, puzzled. She had no knowledge of anything before or during the attack. The damaged woman did not even know her own name. I watched her, trying to smile reassuringly at her sudden panic.
"We'll call you Samar, the lost," I said. "Just as Samar found her way in the end, so will you." Inside, I had no knowledge of the future this woman faced. There were no glimmers or feelings or anything. She was as closed off from me as if I'd never had my Gift. Her soft blue eyes held my gaze intently, as if asking me for some promise I could not fathom.
"Would you like another biscuit, Samar?" Dera piped up, holding out one of her own. "They're very good!" The woman dropped her gaze, accepting the proffered food with shaking hands.
After we got the two wounded ones into the wagon and settled for the night, Selas and I wrapped up in our own cloaks and laid on our bedrolls in the snow. Everyone knew the Harbormen just over the mountains and to the north needed less than that to be comfortable, so I could stick it out like this. The Harbor men just wrapped up in their woolen cloaks and lay in the snow, no fire nearby. I had a fur-lined cloak, fur-lined boots,a fire, and a bedroll. As long as it didn't start to snow again, I had no reason for complaint, and even if I did, I wouldn't dare say it out loud, knowing by his skeptical glances that the old man felt I was too soft for this.
I dreamed about my cottage and my mother. She was sitting at the table near the warmly glowing hearth and laying out her disc shaped cards. I watched quietly from my loft, careful to make no sound as I was supposed to be sleeping. This way I could hear her murmuring as she passed her hands over the arrangement of cards. "That woodcutter's daughter should never have picked up with the Judge's nephew," she would tell herself. "She'll get nothing out of it but an ugly babe." "I thought so. No fine silks for the merchant this trip. Dame Lorenn will be displeased." She did this almost every night, although sometimes the names and places she mentioned were unknown to me. She never slept well, and she would lay out her cards late into the night. As if sensing I was awake, she turned her head and looked up into my loft. I caught my breath. She was beautiful. Her features were fine, her eyes and hair the same brown as mine, but on her they were lovely. I missed her face so much.
"Don't cry, Ada. You are my strong girl, and I will watch over you." She smiled up at me and I awoke from my dream, my throat tight and my heart pinched.
"Just don't let me dream of him tonight," I whispered. "I couldn't bear it."
I didn't dream of him that night. Perhaps she did watch over me still.
Chapter 3
The Wood-Witch
We reached our destination mid-morning. There was a valley here, and below us lay a town more than twice as large as Berowalt, snug and dead in its safe little cleft. From our position, I could see a pass to the east and a trail that led through the valley itself. Most of the buildings were made of stone and still stood, thatched roofs gone. There was a well in the center of town with no bucket and no rope. There were several piles of black ash showing through the snow. Not a soul moved.
"This is it," I said.
Selas looked at me incredulously. "There's nothing here," he pointed out.
"This is it," I repeated, trying to seem superior and mysterious. In truth, now that we were here, I had no idea what to do next. "We should wait down in the village." That sounded good. I returned Selas' look with a frosty glare of my own. He shook his head and took hold of the donkey's halter, pulling it to a shallow incline leading down to the village.
We waited. For a long time. Dusk would surely set in at any moment. I sighed and glanced down to the lower end of town. There was a shape moving quickly past my field of view. It appeared to be a woman, hopping along out of town. "That's her!" I shouted and we were off. We followed her, slipping in the snow, as fast as we could go. Certainly, though she was hunched over and walking funny, she was faster and more sure footed than we were. She hopped along noiselessly and apparently unaware of us, into the forest and up a narrow track out of the valley. I ran after her. I knew Selas was following, so I didn't look back. I was afraid of losing this strange old woman.
Finally, we came into a clearing at the base of a sheer rock face. Against the rock face was a low, very large round hut with a secondary hut leaning against it. It appeared to be made up solely of twigs heaped on each other like hay in a haystack. The woman stopped at the door and turned to face me, leaning against the hut. I stopped to catch my breath, then walked up to her still gasping.
"So you made it," she said. "Where's the girl?" I stared at her without speaking. She was an ugly little creature, with hair on her chin and sharp black eyes. I could see from the way her skirt hung on her that she was binai, the half-child of the goat-footed mountain people. At least this explained why she had run so swiftly and surely to this place. I glanced at the tracks she had left in the snow and finally noticed that her boots were half the size one would expect for her size. At least she seemed to have feet and not hooves like her ancestor.
"She's coming," I said as I drew in a huge breath. "Who are you? Why were we led here?"
She looked me over and smiled. What few teeth she had were black and her lips all but disappeared into her wrinkles. "I am Goskia the Wood-witch," she said at length. "You weren't brought here at all. I only need the girl."
"Dera?" I asked uncertainly. "What about the crow's army?"
"They're not my problem, are they?" she said, crossing her arms. I heard Selas and the wagon enter the clearing. "Ah, there she is," the old woman said in delight, and rushed over to untie the tent rigged up over the back of the cart. I heard Dera laugh. Selas looked at me questioningly and I avoided his glance.
At least she took us in and fed us. Her fresh stew was much better than our travel rations, with good chunks of meat that had never been dried or packed in salt. Selas, Dera and I filled our bellies, Samar picked at some food but did eat a small amount before becoming tired again.
"Why were you waiting for Dera?" I asked after the meal. Goskia had Dera laying on a blanket near the fireplace as she checked the little girl's wounds. She removed and tossed aside the abdomen bandage before turning back to me.
"She's a True Healer, and I'm the only one in this world who can train her." The old woman beamed, clearly proud of her new duties. "Haven't you noticed how very well she's doing?"
I gasped. "But we... amputated her leg!" I said, my voice shaken with horror. If we had just left it alone, and she was truly what the wood-witch said, it would surely have healed itself.
"How were you to know? And there's no use lamenting past choices. What has happened is part of her life, for whatever reason the
Goddess may have." Her voice was sharp but her words were kind. Selas snorted.
"If the Goddess wishes, so mote it be," he said sarcastically. The woman, far older than him, shot a nasty look in his direction.
"It's good you're so well instructed," she snapped at him. "Too many are ignorant and crass when it comes to the spiritual world and the Good Queen." She went about her work in silence for a while. "Help me get this woman into my room," she commanded, pointing at Samar, who had fallen asleep on the dirt floor. Selas hoisted her up without a word. I followed them into the smaller room that had appeared to be a second hut from the outside. There was a smaller hearth in here, and a large bed. He placed Samar on the bed and left the room.
We stripped her so Goskia could properly tend to her. I brought in a basin of warm water to clean the young woman with. I had to turn away when I saw how she had been mutilated.
"She'll never bear a child," Goskia said as we bathed her. "Or enjoy a man. They've cut off everything she has on the outside and badly wounded the inside. Look at her other wounds. They're not deep, but they're many. She's been cut and slashed for the pleasure of it, maybe even while she was awake, because the type that does this may enjoy seeing the pain he's causing. The only reason she's alive right now is because she was placed in contact with Dera." I was silent, washing the blood from her hair as Goskia bound and bandaged her injuries.
We burned the bloodied clothes I had wrapped her in. Goskia dressed her, still sleeping, in a warm rough gown that was too short for Samar's elegant figure. I kissed her forehead and we left her to rest, covering her with soft blankets.
Dera, the first True Healer seen in two centuries' time, was next to sleep but determinedly holding her eyes open very wide. The old woman chuckled at her and scooped her up into her arms. "We want you to watch over your friend for a while," she told the little girl as she carried her into the other room. "And you'll have to lay next to her on my nice bed. Do you think you can do that?" I heard Dera answer but couldn't hear what she had said. Goskia came back to the main room shortly, still smiling.
"I just got my own room built," she said. "Just before the snow, and after the village was destroyed. Two brothers found me up here, after they came home to see their village gone. I put them to work making my room and my bed. They'll be back tonight. They're trying to build up my supply of meat, so they're hunting." She puttered around, clearing away our dinner bowls and washing them. Goskia shooed me away when I moved to help, so I wiped off the table in order to feel somewhat helpful.
"I do have something for you," she said finally. "But you may not like it." I followed her over to the hearth, where she pulled up a stone off to the side, where bread could be kept warm. There was a hole beneath. "It's in there." Cautiously I reached in, drawing my hand out quickly when I felt something scaly move. Out of the hole slithered a tiny snake, white with black bands, no longer than my arm from wrist to elbow. I looked up at Goskia, not knowing what to expect.
"Hello," the snake said distinctly. "You've finally made it." My jaw dropped and I fell back onto my backside. It slithered closer. I scooted back hurriedly. "This couldn't be easy, could it," the snake sighed wearily. "Look, I've had a hard enough time explaining things to that woman. You'll just have to accept this." It came closer. Hesitantly, I reached out my hand. The snake said slowly and loudly, "My name is Banning. I am here to help you. Do not be afraid, I will not hurt you." I was able to feel a little annoyance at being talked to as if I were an imbecile. I lay my hand on the floor and the snake moved up onto it. "That's better," it said with satisfaction.
"What are you?" I asked, lifting it up to eye level.
"I am a snake," he said in a snooty tone. "I come from Zill mountain. I have twenty-four brothers and sisters. My mother is a very fine example of my kind."
"Do they all talk?" I wondered.
"No," he said sadly. "Apparently, they are all quite stupid." I looked up at Goskia. She shrugged. Selas just raised an eyebrow.
"He showed up just before the cold struck, demanding a spot near the hearth and asking for you. Described you in some detail, even," the old woman informed me. "I had to put him under the rock to shut him up."
"My accommodations are quite fine, I assure you," Banning said. "I could use more insects, however." Goskia rolled her eyes.
"He's too little to eat mice whole, so I have to cut them up for him." She bent over and scolded the snake. "I told you, there are no insects in winter."
"A small toad, then."
There are no toads in winter," I interrupted, to my surprise. He didn't frighten me the way I thought he should. "They turn into stones before the snow falls. Everyone knows that." Banning raised his head to look at me as if verifying my honesty by my expression. He sighed again.
"I've plenty dead mice stored up for you, you little nuisance!" the old woman said. With a telling glance, he turned his tiny head away from her, curling his slim body around my wrist. I held up my arm to look into his black, jewel-like eyes.
"Who told you I'd be here?" I asked. "What brought you here? All the way from Zill Mountain?"
Banning stared at me in silence, his small forked tongue flickering. Selas reached out, gesturing for me to hand him the snake. The creature slid tighter around my wrist. "No one may bear me but you," he whispered. I stopped Selas with a gesture.
"Why?" I whispered back. Banning's tongue flickered out again.
"I am not the answerer of your questions," he said finally. "I can only teach you how to use your abilities."
"How did you know I'd be here?" I asked again. If a creature without shoulders could shrug, Banning did.
"How could I not know?" he replied, then tucked his head beneath his coiled length. Selas snorted.
"As informative as large, that one," he said. "I suppose he is sleeping?" I lifted my wrist to look.
"His eyes are open," I replied. I shook him a little.
"For your information, I have no eyelids," the little snake retorted. "I do happen to be asleep."
"Is that so," I said under my breath. "Well, by your leave and if you will!"
"Here, put 'im back under the fireplace," Goskia said, lifting up his covering rock.
"He's fine where he is," I said after a moment. "It's possible he just doesn't know any more than we do."
We all turned as a heavy fist pounded on the door leading outside. Goskia hurried to unlatch the door. Two men entered, obviously brothers. The only distinction I could readily make out was that one man was somewhat shorter and leaner than the other, who was simply huge and massively muscled. They both had curly dark brown hair and hazel eyes. The older and bigger was not ugly – he was appealing, with a craggy and tough face, but he wasn't handsome either. He wore his hair short, cut close to his head. The younger was good looking in a rough and rugged way, his hair was worn longer, barely brushing his shoulders. The older seemed to be in his mid-thirties, the other about six or eight years younger.
"We've placed the spoils of our hunt in the latched cave," the larger one said, staring curiously at Selas and me.
"These," said Goskia with satisfaction, "Are some of the spoils of my hunt. This here is Selas, a hard man but a sturdy one. And this woman is Ada, who rescued the child I told you about. They brought with them an injured woman, another survivor. They all arrived several hours ago. In fact we've already eaten! Sit down and I'll get you two something to eat as well."
They nodded and moved toward the table, their eyes still on the two of us. Selas tilted his chin and stared back unwaveringly. I knew he could cow these much younger men if he wanted too. After all, I was cowed by him and I'd known him for years. On top of that, I also held a clear advantage ever since the flat of that blade struck me. The young men didn't look away, but they didn't look directly into the old man's eyes, either.
"My name is Wyntan," the younger man said. "This is my brother, Daltorn. We've been here since Narwich, in the valley, was destroyed." He turned to take a bowl from the old woman
. I sat down across the table from them.
Daltorn said, "We'd been up in the mountains, looking for the goat people. Goskia sends us out twice a year to barter for her herbs. We found no trace of them."
"We found an empty camp," Wyntan corrected. "The goat people were long gone. Maybe two months gone."
"And when we returned, through Narwich, we saw that everything was destroyed. Burned to the ground, all those we knew missing or dead."
"No one was really missing," the wood-witch interrupted. "I had begun dragging the dead down into the catacombs. Once the boys got back, we were able to lay the whole village to rest."
"We went to Smit's Tower, on the border, for help. It's the nearest posting of the High King's soldiers," the larger brother said. "But it, too, was gone. The stones that remained of the tower were blackened and cracked."
"No bodies, no tower. There was nothing," Wyntan whispered. "At least a hundred soldiers were posted there."
Selas came to stand next to me. "They have a mage," he said curtly. "A powerful one. But they're not using him often. We've only seen one other instance."
"So they're not from the Northlands? They are foreign?" Daltorn asked. Selas looked at me.
"No. I don't know where they've gotten the mage, but they're from Vansheen. The leader calls himself the son of Guin, from Lord Deirdre," I said in a low tone.
"How do you know that?" Daltorn demanded. "Do you know them?"
Selas snorted.
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