Wolfsbane Winter

by Jane Fletcher

  The woman riding behind him was of a similar age. Deryn would have put her in the mid-twenties range. In the dim light, her hair appeared black. Her skin was a soft mid-brown—darker than Deryn’s and lighter than Eldora’s. When she slipped down from the horse, she was shown to be a little below average height.

  “I take it you’re the woman with the lame horse.” She smiled up at Deryn. “My name’s Alana. I’m a healer.”

  “A good one too,” Eldora added.

  Alana’s face was oval, with high cheekbones and a delicate chin. She had a wide, smooth forehead and full lips. This last feature was what caught Deryn’s gaze. They were lips that just begged to be kissed.

  The image rushed into Deryn’s head, of kissing those lips and holding the body that went with them. The force and immediacy of her reaction made Deryn grin. Dammit, girl, you’re so predictable. Maybe getting caught by the storm might not turn out so badly, if it led to a more entertaining evening than listening to Ross snore and Nevin fart. Of course, the owner of the lips would have some say in the matter, but finding out her answer was half the fun. Deryn raised her gaze a couple of inches and met the healer’s eyes.

  Alana took a half step back. Her cheeks darkened a shade more and her eyes widened. She raised her hand to a round silver pendant hanging at her throat.

  I guess I was gawking. There was nothing wrong with that. Someone as attractive as Alana ought to be used to it, and signaling your interest could cut out a lot of time wasting. Besides, the Iron Wolves had a reputation to maintain. Deryn’s grin widened. It’s a hell of a job, but someone has to do it.

  For her part, Alana was clearly surprised and flustered, but not offended. Deryn did not get any sense of a rebuff. Things were looking promising, but it would have to wait. Tia came first, and there was the audience to consider. She could hardly ask Eldora and her son to step outside.

  Deryn looked away while rolling back events in her mind. What state had the introductions reached before she had become distracted?

  “Er, yeah. My name’s Deryn. This is my horse, Tia. She got spooked by the lightning and tripped.”

  “Right. I’ll see what I can do.”

  Deryn felt Eldora’s hand on her arm. “We’ll go sit by the fire and leave her to it.”

  “I want to stay with Tia.”

  “Alana doesn’t like anyone around when she works.”

  “I’d rather—”

  The tug on her arm was insistent. Deryn decided not to fight it. Although being left alone with Alana had possibilities, Tia’s best interest would be better served if she did not have to compete for the healer’s attention. A whole night lay ahead. Plenty of time to see how things would run.

  At the door of the barn Deryn glanced back. Alana was kneeling, examining the injured leg. Tia was standing still for the healer, watching closely, ears angled forward. The mare’s tail swished slowly from side to side and her lips were slightly open. Tia had taken an instant liking to Alana. Deryn knew her horse well enough to tell that.

  Tia always did have an eye for good-looking women. Like rider, like horse.

  *

  Eldora’s family, all ten of them plus their visitor, were squeezed into the main room when Alana entered the farmhouse. The scene was warm and cozy in the firelight. Jed shifted along on the bench to make room for her and held out a tankard.

  As befitting the matriarch of the family, Eldora had her own rocking chair beside the hearth. “You’ll stay here tonight?” Just the faintest hint of an inflection made it a question rather than an instruction.

  Alana hesitated. The room was a bubbling tower of emotions, straining the limits of her control. Without constant vigilance, she might get swept away at any second. Despite this, the rain sweeping the hillside would have made the offer tempting, except Alana knew space in the farmhouse was limited, and arranging who she ended up sharing a bed with might prove awkward. Even choosing where to sit was not straightforward. She did not want to give false encouragement to Jed by taking a place beside him, but it would look rude to ignore his offer and go elsewhere.

  “Thanks, but there’s a bit of a break in the rain.” It was almost true. “I thought I’d take advantage of it and dash back. You’ve got an extra body to make room for here as it is.”

  “I was planning on sleeping in the stable.” Deryn smiled as she spoke.

  “Why don’t you come back with me? I’ve got more space than Eldora has.” The offer was out of her mouth before Alana had time to think.

  “Are you sure?”

  “We’ll have to go now.”

  “Okay.” Deryn stood and edged her way through the gaps between knees and shoulders.

  Alana wished she could be certain which of the conflicting emotions she felt was coming from herself, and which she was picking up from Deryn, Jed, and the others in the room. Anticipation and dismay were the two strongest strands, bound up with the hot flare of desire. She remembered the devastating surge of sexual attraction when she met Deryn in the barn. Had it come from her or the other woman? Not that it made any practical difference. Regardless of the source, she was going to be battling raw lust all evening, and on the basis of what had happened so far it was a battle she might well lose—as with sudden impulse when she had invited Deryn to spend the night in her cottage. Most worrying of all, some treacherous parts of her mind were already eagerly looking forward to a defeat.

  Mind? That was one point where she could be quite sure of the source. Be honest. It’s not your mind that’s getting excited.

  The daylight was almost gone from the farmyard. Heavy raindrops pounded the ground in salvos, driven by the rising wind. Alana waited for Deryn to join her, taking advantage of what shelter she could from the low overhanging eaves of the farmhouse, although she did wonder if she should stand in the rain and see if it cooled her down.

  “I thought you said the rain had eased off.” Deryn peered up at the black clouds.

  “Must have picked up again. Do you want to go back inside?”

  “Do you?”

  “No.”

  “Then let’s go.”

  Alana looked up at the woman standing beside her and again felt the rush of desire. It could be coming from me. Deryn was certainly enticing enough. She stood half a head taller than Alana. Even in the dim light, the blue-green of her eyes was unmistakable, beneath a fringe of sandy-colored hair. Her body was that of an acrobat or a warrior. Something about her face made Alana think of a fox, although that might have been solely due to the pure mischief in her grin. It matched the relaxed amusement overlying the quick-fire flicker of emotions inside her. All the signs pointed to her being sharp, audacious, a risk taker, and quite possibly a heartbreaker.

  Alana tore her gaze away. “My cottage is up there.” She pointed.

  As if to make her previous claim true, at that moment the rain stopped abruptly, and did not start again until they were within sight of the cottage door. They raced the final hundred yards and arrived muddy but mostly dry.

  Alana had damped the fire down before leaving. It was the work of a minute to bring it back to life. The two women deposited their caked boots to one side of the hearth. Cleaning them would be easier once the mud had dried.

  Alana turned to her food safe on the wall. “Are you hungry? I’ve got today’s bread, cheese, and beef jerky.”

  “If you got some to spare. Thanks.”

  “There’s plenty. I’ve got a flagon of beer here as well.”

  “Sounds good.” Deryn dropped into one of the chairs and stretched her bare feet toward the fire.

  While sorting out their supper, Alana glanced occasionally at her guest. The sight of someone else relaxing in her home felt good. It changed the space. The crackle of the fire filled the room with different echoes. Shadows were warmer. The walls and roof were more secure, holding out the storm, rather than holding her in. I am lonely.

  The realization was nothing new, even without considering the word lonely as a euphemism. Howev
er, loneliness and celibacy she could live with. A demon-spawn hunting mob armed with agricultural implements was a whole different matter. Alana knew she had to be very careful. And maybe you’re not even attracted to her. You might just be picking up on the way she feels about you. Alana glanced at Deryn again. Although, if you’re not attracted, then you ought to start worrying about your eyesight or your sanity.

  But she was probably doing okay on both counts. The more Alana prodded the feelings around in her head, the more she was sure that not everything was a projection from the other woman. The emotions were too typical of how she had been in the past, at the start of an affair, back in the days when she had been able to keep the world out of her head.

  So was it all her? Was the attraction purely one-sided? The way Deryn had looked at her in the barn was suggestive, but perhaps she had soot on her face. Deryn had leapt at the offer of accommodation for the night, but who wanted to sleep in a stable, given another option? What was the chance that none of the desire she was feeling came from Deryn? Alana tried to persuade herself this would be a good thing and that she was not unhappy with the idea.

  Alana caught sight of her bed out of the corner of her eye, and all attempt at rationalization was knocked aside. Her stomach kicked so hard the waves rippled out though her limbs. For a moment her knees were in danger of buckling, but she steadied herself with a hand on the table. Why had she invited Deryn to stay? You’ve dropped yourself in it, and it’s too late now to get a puppy.

  After a few seconds to ensure that her legs had recovered sufficiently to carry her, Alana went to her seat by the fire. She passed over a plate and mug, hoping Deryn would not see how her hands were shaking. The next thing was to think of a safe topic of conversation, although safe was a very relative term. Between mouthfuls of bread and cheese, she said, “I don’t think I’ve seen you around before. Have you been in Neupor long?”

  “Only a few days.”

  “What brings you here?”

  “Bad luck, mainly.”

  “Pardon?”

  “I’m working with the marshal’s men in town. It wouldn’t have been my first choice for a way to spend winter, but I was out of options. I needed the money.” Deryn gave a self-deprecating smile. “I was stupid enough to let myself get robbed.”

  The way Deryn phrased it was not merely an attempt to make light of her misfortune. Alana could sense more shame than anger underlying the words. Why should a victim blame herself? “What do you do normally?”

  “I’m an Iron Wolf.”

  It explained why Deryn felt humiliated by the theft. If her job was protecting the property of others, it was doubly bad if she could not protect her own. However, Alana was now confused for another reason. Her mother frequently expressed views about the Iron Wolves, and very little of it was flattering. Alana was sure the king’s chief marshal would not approve of her officers employing mercenary warriors to bolster their numbers.

  The subject was not one Alana could pursue. She could hardly repeat the views, or explain her relationship to the person who held them. “You ride the Misery Trail?”

  “Yes. I got back to Oakan a few days ago.”

  For a while they ate in companionable silence. Alana put her empty plate on the floor. “Where did you come from, initially?”

  “On the borders, down to the south of here.” A ripple of disquiet flowed from Deryn. It coincided with the question, but was it caused by it?

  People were so much harder to read than animals. There were no layers of abstraction in a cow’s head. If a cow was upset, the cause was simple, proportionate, and generally close at hand. All Alana had to do was use her eyes. If a human was upset it might be because a random word association had sparked a memory of something that happened decades ago. It might even be due to wandering daydreams, utterly independent of anything that was currently happening.

  Was there something about her origins Deryn did not want to discuss? Or had the indirect reference to distance prompted Deryn to worry about her horse or relive the accident? Equally, a pattern in the fire might have recalled a totally unrelated incident. Was Deryn hiding a secret or was it a pure coincidence of timing?

  Alana had no way to know. Those who had never experienced magical empathy would never believe quite how useless the ability was, but one thing was sure—whatever the cause of Deryn’s unease, it was none of her business. Alana pushed the questions from her mind.

  “I come from the south as well, but on the coast. Ellaye.”

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Getting away from the city.” Alana paused. It had been a while since she had needed to recount her story. “I was a herbalist, with my own small garden in the city. I used to make medicines and other stuff for people, but I wasn’t happy. I like plants and there aren’t enough of them in the city, while there’s far too many people. The hubbub was swamping me. So I moved up here about two years ago, with my partner.”

  At the word partner, Deryn’s eyes flicked sharply toward Alana, accompanied by a flare of surprise that twisted into disappointment. That swirl of emotions definitely came from Deryn, and was, for once, all too easy to decode. Alana looked down at her own hand, gripping her half-empty mug of beer, while she composed herself. The attraction was mutual, and with the last trace of doubt gone, things had just become far more dangerous, because now Alana knew she did not need to fear rejection. The only thing she had to fear was revealing too much about who and what she was, and thereby losing her home, the measure of sanity she had found, and possibly her life.

  Alana put the beer down. Alcohol was the last thing she should be drinking. Instead she wrapped her fingers around the silver talisman, trying to force all awareness of Deryn out of her head. Quite apart from the fact that ignorance would be safer, the mental eavesdropping felt underhanded and sordid.

  Deryn had been scanning the room, no doubt looking for signs of the absent lover. “You have a partner?”

  “I did. She left a year ago. She missed the city too much.”

  “You chose to stay here without her?”

  “Yes.”

  Deryn paused, tilting her head to the side. “So, either you’re not kidding when you say you like plants, or the relationship had run its course.”

  “A bit of both. Plus, I really can’t stand the city.”

  “You don’t miss your family?”

  “You haven’t met my family.”

  Deryn laughed. “It sounds as if I wouldn’t want to.”

  “Not if you have any sense.” Alana had to shift the conversation away from dangerous ground before Deryn asked any more questions. The risk of getting caught out in a lie was high if she invented a false family. Yet Lady Kyra Quintanilla was too well known not to be recognized, no matter how heavily Alana disguised the details. “Do you miss your family, while you’re out on the Trail?”

  “No.”

  Deryn delivered the word deadpan, voice and expression tightly controlled, but she could not disguise her emotions. An avalanche of grief smashed through Alana’s fragile barriers. The pain clutched at her heart and spontaneous tears blurred her vision.

  “What’s happened to your family? Are they all right?” The questions were out before Alana could stop them.

  Deryn’s faint shake of the head was clearly intended to dismiss the subject. She did not want to talk, but she did not need to. There was only one interpretation of her pain.

  “They’re dead. All of them. How?”

  “Why should you think…”

  Added to the mix, Deryn was also now startled. Alana had slipped up. The savage grief she had absorbed had wiped out her better sense. Be careful. If you can’t block her out, then make sure you don’t reveal what the empathy tells you. But confronted by the enormity of Deryn’s pain, it was easier said than done. The emotions filled the room—pain, anger, and terror. Overriding it all was the utter sense of abandonment and the world ripped open, without love or security. The blend screamed of a child’s
vulnerability and incomprehension.

  “How old were you?”

  “Eleven.”

  “How did they die? W—” Alana broke off and clutched at her talisman. This was exactly the sort of danger she had foreseen, the reason why she dared not take a lover. She had to block out the pain and act as if she knew no more than what had been said aloud. And if she could not stop herself blurting out too much, then she should clamp her mouth shut and say nothing.

  Deryn had slipped down in her chair, her eyes fixed on the fire. She did not want to talk, and it was wrong to use magic to take what she did not want to share.

  “I’m sorry. Forget I asked, please.”

  Perversely, Deryn decided to answer. “Outlaws.” As she spoke the word, part of the child’s pain softened and was replaced by an adult need to understand and control. “Outlaws. A gang of them.” Suddenly, the words started to flow. “My family were fur trappers. We lived in a cabin in the mountains—my parents, grandparents, a couple of aunts, my brother and sister. Nine of us. Late one day we saw a group in the distance riding our way. I said I’d get rabbits to make stew for them—me, as a kid, showing off. I was proud of how I could hunt. My dad laughed as he said okay. I’d just shot the second rabbit when the group reached our cabin. I was in the woods out the back, but I stopped to watch. I peeked through the bushes. The man in the lead pulled up by Grandpa Jojo. They were talking and then the man drew his sword and he…” The muscles in Deryn’s jaw clenched.

  Alana sank back. The initial shock of the emotional onslaught had faded. The hurt was Deryn’s, not hers. She did not need to deal with it. “You don’t have to tell me about it, if you don’t want to.”

  “There’s not much more to tell. They cut my family down. Killed our dogs. Even my baby brother. He tried to run away, but he couldn’t run as fast as a horse. Cray wasn’t yet three and the bastards butchered him. And I hid in the trees, watching them do it.”