I left my honor guard at the tent door. Going inside, I gave my worn-out guests a friendly smile and introduced myself.
"I am Ada of Berowalt," I said. They shared a look of mild surprise, and my grin became somewhat dry. Perhaps I was not what they expected either. The man smiled tentatively back at me, the woman gave me a friendly but unsmiling nod. She looked ready to drop. Her frizzy light brown hair was pulled back into a very tight braid, as if in hope if the braid were tight enough, her hair would smooth out. The rather charming effect was belied by her drawn and serious face, as careworn as if she were decades older than me, though I felt sure she was only in her mid-thirties. Her companion was slightly shorter than she was, compact and well-muscled, with pale brown eyes and nearly black hair.
"I am Felan, and this is my wife, Hesta. We are Trailfarers," the man said, with a stiff bow that spoke of soreness.
I nodded. This explained Selas' opinion of their importance.
"As you know, it is our duty and that of our group to monitor the roads and trails in Dragon's Tooth," he continued. "We seek out rogues, outlaws, thieves and murderers who would prey on the people using those passages. Several months ago we began to battle a black painted army for the roads and even the villages of our kingdom."
"I've met them," I said, with grim humor.
"We were annihilated," Hesta said, her voice husky. "Almost to a man. Once the painted army knew of us, they sought us out, using foul magic and divining to destroy us one by one."
"The last of us met for a final stand outside of Luckham. We had no chance." Felan rubbed his neck. "We are known as fearsome fighters, but we had no defense against their magic and their numbers. As our peril became clear, our leader, Wynn, told us to flee and seek out those who waited here in Reckonwood."
"You found us," I said. "You are safe here."
"I saw Wynn die," Hesta whispered. "With the knowledge of our betrayal of our own oath in my heart, I watched her die; she was the heart of us."
My gaze sharpened at her words, and seeing that, Felan shook his head.
"Hesta and I wed in secret, though Trailfarers swear an oath not to wed. That is our betrayal." He put his arm around his wife as if to shelter the two of them from any possible wrath falling from the broken oath.
"But when the world started falling apart, all that mattered to me was being with Felan. I didn't want to die without announcing our bond before the Goddess." Hesta began to weep, and I could see her tears stemmed at least in part from her exhaustion.
"And then we made it here, to find this village, and the Chosen of Galiena hidden away. This is why Wynn told us to come here, to offer our services to you." Again Felan gave a stiff bow. His wife made no attempt to do so, though I could see it was not for lack of respect. I feared if she bowed, she would fall over.
"Have any of you contacted the High King?" I asked hopefully.
"No. We are barred from Lalinth by some unknown force. Though we have traveled towards it, we never arrive. We have found ourselves only in ruined village after ruined village, as if we did not know where we were going. I was born in Lalinth, Lady, I could find it with one eye poked out and the other half-closed."
I sighed. Of course no one who could carry a warning could reach Lalinth. Iceblade would allow no one to mar his sport.
"I want you two to lie down and sleep. If you hunger, you will be fed, but the most important thing is that you rest. Come with me, I will find you shelter." I put out the crook of my arm for Hesta to lean on. She accepted my help hesitantly.
"You do not punish us for breaking our oath?" she whispered.
"I do not. Your oath is between you and the Goddess, not you and me. The Good Queen has given me no order to punish you. What I do is get you rest and food before you fall from exhaustion, then I imagine General Selas will be putting you to work." I gave them a wry smile. "Even I am not exempt from his plans. But before he will be allowed to bully you, you two must rest. If your leader knew to send you here, the Goddess wants you here, and you are no good to us in the state I see you in."
I led them to one of the long houses and asked the women there to help me partition them off some space where they could recuperate in the company of each other. The women moved swiftly, and a comfortable pallet was created for them inside a curtained off end of the long house. After seeing them to bed, I saw to it that they would be allowed to sleep as long as they needed, and they would be offered food on awakening.
We did not have enough steel weapons for everyone able to fight in camp, but this problem was solved easily enough. First, weapons of poor quality were melted down and made into spear heads by Big Martin, a blacksmith who had been among the first to arrive in the Wood. In his home village had been a chandler known as Little Martin, and though Little Martin had fallen with their village, Big Martin had kept the modifier on his name. Big Martin gladly assumed responsibility for the maintenance of the weapons and armor, happy to be back at work again. Gronwon and Wind worked their gift and called him up a fine forge in front of the armory, complete with its own well, in just over a day.
The blacksmith also set to making the metal arrowheads required by Felan and Hesta for the company of archers they were building. I had no idea where he was finding all the metal he was using, until Big Martin asked me to come to the forge one morning before breakfast. There he showed me a pile of rusty or badly damaged weapons and other metal junk – buckles and old pots and pans and tableware. "Every morning, there's more," he said. "The things as live here in the Wood bring 'em, I reckon."
I bent down to pick up an old tankard. The images that moved before my eyes showed me a small group of thieves, meaning to make their hideout in the fabled and dire Reckonwood. Their clothes were of a design more common hundreds of years ago. They had been swallowed up by the ground their first night in the Wood. Coughing, I fought off the feeling and horror of suffocation as the thieves' suffering echoed down through time.
"Well," I said, dropping it and shuddering. "The owners won't be wanting that back. They're hundreds of years dead. I wonder how much of this stuff is buried here in the Wood?"
"Don't matter," Selas said sourly. "As long as it keeps coming here, we'll put it to use."
"It's all iron, too. None of it's pewter or anything else I can't use," Big Martin said. "You'll find the other crafters here have been left gifts as well. The seamstresses get bits of cloth or thread or needles, the woodcrafters tools and wood, there's a tiler even got some bags of tiles. She's too shy to approach you, Lady, but she's wondering if she might start making a mosaic in the temple."
"It would be wonderful," I said. "You might want to check with Malina first, though, and don't tell her you asked me." Selas snickered. I gave him a wry glance. "So, Big Martin, are you the Speaker for the Guilds here in Reckonwood?"
"Being a village and all," he said sheepishly. "Wouldn't hurt to have a Crafts Guild. We even got a potter, but he's training with the General. Would do the cooks good too, to have a Guild. And there's a chandler, one of the parents. He's training up the boy he cares for."
“Do you have space to meet?”
“We can meet in the great hall,” Big Martin said. “It would be a favor if you could come bless us when we start, Lady, for our first real meeting.”
“I would love to,” I said. “Just let me know when. Right now, though, as I am in my training gear, perhaps General Selas has work for me?”
Selas grinned. "Silly question."
The next evening I found some time to go out into the Wood, just out of sight of the village, upstream, as the stars appeared. So many people wished to see me all day, some to talk or ask boons but some just to look, that I couldn't help but feel crowded. All my life I'd been mostly solitary, and all this attention, not to mention the worshipful nature of it, was grating my nerves to nubs. I was never alone, aside from in the privy, though even there my honor guard would wait just outside where any embarrassing noise could be heard. Every morning I spent time prayi
ng and meditating in the altar-house we called our temple, but it would have been wrong for me to ask the other worshippers to leave while I used the temple, so though no one bothered me there, I was not alone. Everywhere else I was followed and joined, touched and spoken to, by one person or whole groups of them. At least while training, people mostly stayed a bit away, held back by the sharp spears of Selas' eyes. Since Wyntan and Samar were taking a turn as my honor guard - mostly to get a break from Selas, I believed - I was able to get some distance away from them once I was out of sight of the camp. The two of them didn't worry about my safety the same way some others might, they knew I could likely protect myself against anything the Wood had to offer, and likely better than they could protect me, given the nature of the Wood.
Where I walked outside of the camp, Spring bloomed beneath my feet and all around me, for a radius of nearly twenty feet. Here in the Wood, my status as the Chosen was made obvious. I doubted this gift would continue outside of Reckonwood, I hoped it wouldn't. For now, I was grateful that I could stand here alone on the soft mossy ground, smelling the new flowers. The lights Wyclif told me about danced along the ground, up tree trunks, and in the budding leaves, lending an enchanted air to the sweetly scented night.
I pulled my boots off and stepped into the stream, carelessly letting my skirt get wet, watching it swirl around my ankles. The water warmed around me, from icy to merely cool. Chuckling, I closed my eyes, relaxing. Listening to the birds, the breeze, the laughing water, I let my tenseness wash away and slip downstream.
"Here you are, having a quiet moment far from the madness that is Selas," a voice said. I opened my eyes to see Nefen standing on the stream bank, hands on hips, a dry smile on his face.
"I am discovered," I said amiably. "Alas."
"If you'd like me to go, I will," he said, with mostly concealed reluctance.
"No, it's all right." I smiled at him. "As long as you don't have a horde following you."
He made a show of looking. "No horde. Just me. Looking to spend a moment or two with Ada, rather than the Chosen." Again the warmth of his admiration touched my thoughts. I felt a certain sadness fall across me.
"There is only Ada the picker of lant here," I said.
He stepped into the stream, boots and all, to stand in front of me. "All is well with the world, then."
"Nefen," I began, and he waited in silence while I gathered my thoughts. "The person you see when you look at me is not who I am," I said at last.
"Hmm," was his only reply. He reached out to take my hand almost hesitantly, then more firmly when I didn't fling him off like the last time he'd done so. His head tilted down so he could look down at our joined hands, his thumb stroking the back of my hand.
"I am plain, with unremarkable features, gangly, tall... plain," I said. "You see -"
"Beauty," he whispered. "Courage. Wisdom." He looked up, stared unwaveringly into my face, his expression and the warmth there open for me to see.
Tears pricked my eyes. "None of those things is in me," I said past the lump in my throat. "I am not brave or wise, only trying to survive and to fulfill what has been asked of me. And I am not beautiful. If you had seen me back home, with dirt in my hair and in my clothes, with calluses -"
"Hush," he said swiftly, as if my words hurt him. He turned my hand over in his, palm up. With his free hand he traced my palm, showing me the calluses I bore now, from using my mace and shield. "I have seen you dirty, sweaty, bloody, stinking, and insane, and you have always been everything I told you." His free hand lifted to wipe away an errant tear sliding down my cheek. "Maybe what I see is really who you are, and you are the one in error."
I held his gaze, unable to come up with a reply. "You can't love me," I muttered at last.
In answer he bent toward me. Moved by the yearning I sensed in him, I leaned up on my toes, tilting my face to receive his kiss.
When his lips touched mine, I heard that voice, that harsh, mesmerizing voice. "He may not touch you!" Revulsion at being touched by anyone else sent my flesh crawling. With a sob, I pushed Nefen back.
"Nefen, I can't," I said, crying in earnest now. "I can't bear your touch." He flinched, stumbled back.
"Ada, I..." He subsided, his face white, his eyes stark.
"No, I -" I tried, failed, started again. "It isn't your fault. It isn't you at all. It's the hand of the Goddess upon me. She wants only Her God."
Nefen swallowed, took in a deep, heaving breath.
"Now you know," I cried softly. "Now you know how shameful it is. How base I am." I turned my back to him, covering my face with my hands.
I sensed his helplessness, knew he wanted to reach out and offer comfort but was afraid the touch of his hand would make things worse for me.
"How can you care about my feelings right now?" I wept from behind my hands. "Why aren't you hating me like I do?"
"I can't," he said. "I wouldn't. It isn't your fault." I heard the water rippling as he walked around to face me again, careful not to slip on the slick stones. "I just... I just have one question."
I wiped my eyes, raising my face to look at him. He gave me a soft, bittersweet smile. His grey eyes remained dark with pain, but also with compassion, and his undeterred emotion.
"What about when this is all over with?"
Startled, suddenly relieved, I laughed. "When it is over... When it is over, everything will be different. The Goddess will remove Her hand, and all that will be left is me."
His smile widened, some of the darkness eased from his face. "Then, I will wait."
I laughed again. "Nefen of Bendwillow, handsome, brave and honorable Nefen, waiting for lowborn, unremarkable Ada."
He placed his hand over his heart. "Uncertain, undeserving Nefen. I will wait. As long as you need me to. If you want it. You could come to Bendwillow and be my Lady."
I stared at him, for moments speechless. "Your Lady?"
"Of whatever I may own when this is over. What did you think I wanted of you?"
I felt pale. I searched his face for any sign of a joke, though I knew it was not in him to joke of something like this. I managed a solemn smile.
"If you still want that when this is all over," I said. "Then ask me again."
He gave me a brisk nod.
"You may find," I said quietly, "That what you see in me is gone when the Goddess removes Her hand."
Nefen frowned heavily at me, his well-shaped mouth twisting. "You may find, Lady, that you underestimate yourself, and me as well."
I returned to dry land and pulled my boots on, with some difficulty as my skin was wet. Nefen followed me, standing beside me until I got my boots on, and we headed back towards the village together.
Wyntan and Samar had their backs to us, Samar had her arm tucked into Wyntan's. He was standing stiffly, and I felt sorry if the scene he may have witnessed embarrassed him. Blushing, I avoided looking either in the face.
Chapter 10
Malina
Malina had her eye on Wyntan. Though she'd dallied with more than one man since coming to our village, she'd always watched Wyntan. There was no disgrace in her actions, especially for one of Her Own, who were frequently moved by the Goddess' own fecundity. A woman may be with any man she chooses, as long as both were unmarried. Most women, however, liked to present at least the appearance of discretion or modesty.
Malina felt no such urge.
She lay her arm across his body at any angle she could manage when they talked. Her torso tilted toward him whenever he looked at her, offering him an advantageous view of deep, creamy skinned cleavage. Kohl-lined eyes smoldered, ruby lips pouted, and her satin voice became husky and artfully breathless anytime Wyntan's attention fell on her. For his part, he generally lent an appreciative eye to her displays, but would gently remove her hand from his body and step back from her. She was undeterred. Selas and Daltorn placed bets on the developing contest.
"He's got better taste than that," Daltorn said, watching the two. "He doe
sn't even like her, really." He, Samar and Selas sat on the grass with me at one end of the training field. Nefen was somewhere in the middle of the field, running the neophyte soldiers through exercises. Malina had called Wyntan aside for yet another spurious "important" conversation, involving a lot of her hands on his body and her heaving cleavage. It was supposed to be Wyntan's day off anyway, but he rarely took them, preferring to help out on the training field.
"Don't be stupid," Selas snapped. "You don't have to like a woman to pull her down in the tall grass and give her-"
I cleared my throat loudly. "Please remember my, ahem, innocent ears."
"You may be a virgin," Selas said. "But you're not so innocent you don't know what I mean. Especially not since that night at the stream, from what I'm told."
I gasped. "What did Wyntan tell you?"
Not him, Samar signed with satisfaction. He wouldn't share your secrets. She grinned.
"You shameless little -" I started, laughing. She waved my words away carelessly.
Selas smirked.
"It was only half a kiss," I said. "Nothing more." As I said it, my heart pinched. Selas read in my face my painful thoughts. His hand settled on my shoulder and fell away so quickly I almost doubted it had happened.
"Nefen had better do nothing to dishonor you," Daltorn said gruffly. "Or cause you pain."
A bark of laughter escaped me.
Nefen's skin would fall from his body if a dishonorable thought crossed his mind, Samar signed, rolling her eyes.
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