Wolfsbane Winter

by Jane Fletcher

  “You were only a child yourself.”

  “I know. Doesn’t make it any easier.”

  “It wouldn’t.”

  Alana reached over and took Deryn’s hand. She had to make physical contact. Deryn flinched at the touch, but then relaxed. She turned to Alana. The firelight caught on her cheekbone, making dark shadows of her eyes and tinging her hair with red.

  “Aren’t you going to say how sorry you are for my loss?” Deryn’s tone was cynical, challenging, but the driving emotions went inward. Alana was certain the root lay in a contempt for self-pity.

  “Do I need to?”

  “No. In fact, I’d rather you didn’t.”

  I know. Alana held back the remark. She wished she did not know in the way that she did. The emotional eavesdropping was beyond her power to stop, but surely it was the worst violation possible of Deryn’s privacy.

  “You managed to escape from them.”

  “It would have been easy enough, if I’d wanted to. They didn’t know I was there.”

  “If?” Something new and fierce was pushing to the forefront of Deryn’s mind.

  “I didn’t try to run. I wasn’t going to let them get away with it—not the bastards who’d murdered my family.”

  “But you were only…eleven, you said? How many were there?”

  Deryn brushed her free hand across her face although no tears had yet fallen. “Six. They were dumb shits. Given an even chance, Cray could have taken them on. They found my mom’s home-brew and got themselves plastered. They dumped my family’s bodies in the shed and threw a party in our cabin. Just one guy on lookout, and he was as drunk as the rest. By midnight it was quiet in the cabin and the lookout had passed out cold, flat on his back. I thought about taking his own sword and slitting his throat. I probably could have, but the full moon was out and I had my bow. I knelt by his feet and put an arrow through”—Deryn touched her index finger to a point under her chin—“there.”

  “The others?”

  “Our woodpile was ready for winter. I stacked the logs up outside the cabin door and set fire to it. The bastards were so drunk they didn’t wake up until the thatch was on fire. One of them opened the door, and the burning logs fell in. That was when they really started screaming. Only two managed to get out of the cabin. One was totally on fire, so I left her alone. She was done for. The other stood in our yard, beating out the flames on the leg of his pants. With the fire behind him, he was way too easy a target to miss.”

  “That’s…” Amazing? Awful? Impressive? Alana was not sure what her main reaction was. “You were just eleven?”

  Deryn shrugged. “Like I said. They were dumb shits. But the marshal’s men who turned up the next day were pretty stunned. They’d been hunting the gang for months.” She twisted her hand so that it was palm up and she could wrap her fingers around Alana’s, return the grip. “If only they’d caught up with the scum the day before. They should have hired Brise earlier.”

  “Who’s Brise?”

  “An Iron Wolf scout. My foster mother. She adopted me afterward.”

  “The marshal’s men hired an Iron Wolf to help them track down the gang?” Just how common was the practice of employing mercenaries? Alana’s mother would be alarmed if she knew. However, the issue was of no concern to Alana, and she was certainly not going to bother writing to her mother about it.

  “The gang had been raiding the borderlands for a couple of years, hitting somewhere and then hightailing it back to their base in the wilds. The marshal’s men didn’t stand a chance of finding them. The Iron Wolves are the only people who understand the wilderness. If they’d hired Brise earlier, she could have tracked the gang to their base months before and my parents would still be alive, plus who knows how many others. But the marshal’s men are fucking arrogant jerks. They were just farting around until the gang was stupid enough to raid the marshal’s own home. That’s the only reason they hired Brise. It’s a fucking joke, them protecting the common folk of Galvonia. The only people the marshals worry about are themselves.”

  Deryn’s chin sank onto her chest. Her face tightened in an agonized grimace and a sob shook her shoulders. The anger and the pain were understandable, but indulging in them was not a common experience for Deryn, of that Alana was certain. The tears Deryn fought held no resonances. They were not invoking and feeding off memories of other occasions. Undoubtedly, Deryn had cried for her murdered family before, but not as often or as fiercely as she had held back and stamped on her grief. She had been bottling too much in for too long.

  Holding hands was not enough. Alana left her chair so she could put her arm around Deryn’s shoulders. She struggled to find the right words to say, when she realized the only thing Deryn wanted to hear was nothing. So while the fire burned down to glowing embers, Alana held her in silence. Maybe Deryn would talk when she was ready. If Alana was the person she wanted to talk to, she knew where to find her.

  “We should go to sleep.” Deryn had her voice back under control.

  “Sure.” After a last gentle squeeze, Alana released Deryn’s shoulders.

  Her bed was big enough to hold two comfortably, and one danger was removed. Just about the only good thing to come from the story of Deryn’s family was that Alana knew she could sleep beside Deryn with no risk of anything untoward happening. She was no longer in the mood, and she was quite sure Deryn felt the same way.

  Alana removed her outer clothes and slipped under the covers, telling herself it was all for the best and she had absolutely no grounds for feeling disappointed. Yet once again, she had difficulty persuading herself. Common sense could be so dull.

  I wonder if any of Eldora’s dogs are due to give birth soon?

  *

  A warm body was curled against Deryn when she woke and an arm lay across her stomach. For the briefest moment, Deryn enjoyed the contact, before memories swamped her. She slid away from Alana and rolled quickly out of bed. The air was chill on her exposed skin. Deryn grabbed her pants from the floor and pulled them on hurriedly. As she did so, she glared at the chair she had occupied the night before. Deryn could not believe the way she had sat there and let her heart pour out through her mouth.

  A soft groan announced that Alana had also wakened. Deryn glanced at the bed. The blankets were moving in a way that indicated Alana was about to sit up. Deryn turned away, focusing on where her boots stood beside the cold hearth. She did not want to risk a moment of shared eye contact with the other woman.

  “Good morning.” Alana’s voice came with a yawn.

  “Morning.”

  Deryn dare not look around. She did not know what expression she would see on Alana’s face, but could not think of a single one she could cope with. Pity would be as bad as derision. Even complete unconcern would be a rebuff. She had never spoken about her family to anyone except Brise the way she had last night. What had made her blurt stuff out like that? Had it been a reaction to the dream? Or had it been the way Alana deftly avoided saying anything stupid? She seemed to understand so much from just a few words. Was that what was meant by being a good listener? In which case, Alana ought to get some sort of medal for her skill at it.

  Whatever the reason, Deryn wanted to get away, before Alana tried to reopen the topic, or worse still, before she herself broke down and started going over it all again. Mostly Deryn wanted time alone, to get her head back in one piece, so she could face the world on her own terms. The sound of the blankets being thrown back meant that Alana was also getting out of bed. Deryn had to make her escape quickly.

  “Do you want breakfast? I’ve got the end of some bacon here, and the hens are laying.”

  “No. I need to get back to Neupor. The sergeant will want to know what’s happened to me.” Deryn grabbed her boots and tugged them on. Brushing the mud off could wait.

  The chances were high that Nevin had gotten drunk last night and passed out without noticing her absence, and he would not have lost any sleep over it, even if he had, but Alana
was not to know.

  “Will a half hour make that much difference?” The slap of bare footsteps on stone were getting close.

  The faintest bands of daylight outlined the shutters over the windows. Even allowing that dawn had not yet broken, the light was weak. The clouds must still be there, although rain was not pattering on the roof. Deryn wrenched open the door. A sheet of rolling gray stratus covered the sky, showing signs of brightening to the east. The air was heavy with moisture. The weight of it hit her like a slap to the face.

  “I’d like to see if I can make it back without getting too wet. It’s not raining at the moment, but I don’t know when it will start again, so the sooner I go the better.”

  “What about your horse?”

  Deryn froze in the doorway. What sort of state was she in to have forgotten Tia? Momentarily confused and distracted, she turned around.

  Alana had gotten out of bed and stood in the middle of the room. Her face was still flushed from sleep. Even in the cold light, her skin looked soft and warm. Deryn could not help imagining how it would feel to kiss her all over. Alana’s shoulder-length black hair was in uncombed disarray. She was wearing nothing except a long shapeless shirt that hung to her mid thigh. The garment was suitably modest, but Deryn was hit by the memory of waking up with Alana pressed against her, and only that shirt between them.

  Alana must have rolled over in her sleep, a habit from the time she had spent with her now-departed lover. She probably did not even know she had done it, but that did not make its effect on Deryn any less. Alana had a soft sensuality. More than just her pleasing shape and well-formed face, her appeal blossomed from the relaxed way she moved and spoke, her competence at her craft, her smile. She was somebody Deryn would like to spend time with, which was all the more reason to get away, and quickly.

  Despite Deryn’s fears, Alana’s expression was one of thoughtful concern—caring enough to show she had not forgotten or trivialized anything, but reserved enough to show she was not going to press, or make an unwarranted fuss. Of course. The only one who’s likely to make a asshole of herself is me. Deryn could feel the shreds of her composure disintegrate still further at the thought. She stared down at her feet, trying to give the impression that she was thinking.

  “Tia…yes. Will she be okay to walk into town?”

  “It would be better if she got a few days’ rest. I’m sure Eldora won’t mind her staying in the barn.”

  “Right. I’ll come by and pick her up in three days. Will you let Eldora know? Tell her I’ll pay her back for any costs.”

  “I’ll tell her, but I doubt she’ll accept the money.” Alana was getting close again. Her bare feet came into Deryn’s field of view.

  “Right. Thanks. I’ll be going, then. And thanks, for everything.”

  Deryn turned and fled. Not until a mile had gone did her brain start working again. Deryn stopped and turned to look back, although Alana’s cottage was now out of sight. She shook her head in bewilderment.

  What was going on with her? She had just spent a night in bed with a very attractive woman and she had done nothing there but sleep. It was not the way she had planned on the evening going when she accepted the offer of accommodation. Admittedly, Alana’s wishes would have come into play, but her previous partner had been female, so there had to be a chance she might be interested. Yet Deryn had made no attempt to try her luck, and that was very definitely not her style.

  Instead she had gone to pieces. She had spoken of things she had never told anyone. She had sat sobbing, and acted like an infant in need of a cuddle and a kiss-better. It could not have been an appealing picture. And that’s surely blown any chance you ever stood with her. You can’t sob your way into a woman’s bed and expect anything much to come of it.

  Deryn was disgusted with herself. But, pride aside, perhaps it was not such a totally bad thing. Alana had stripped aside her emotional defenses as if they did not exist. She had gotten under Deryn’s guard and into her head. Nobody had ever done that before, and the more Deryn thought about her, the more she realized Alana might just be able to get into her heart as well.

  Deryn clenched her jaw. That was something she very definitely was not going to let happen. She turned and carried on walking down the hill to the main Neupor road.

  Neupor Marshal’s Station, northern Galvonia

  Two days later, octubre 18, early evening

  In the not so distant past, someone with a truly staggering amount of patience had taught Ross to play “scissors, paper, rock.” It marked the high point of his intellectual accomplishments, even though he could only remember half the rules, and it was never the same half from one round to the next. Playing games would never give Ross a chance to shine. He was far better at his current activity of standing in the station doorway, watching the world go by. The world would always be bypassing Ross.

  Sitting on the edge of her bunk, Deryn studied his rear view, then sighed and let her head slump. She could not believe that she was seriously thinking about asking him if he wanted to play. Her stint at Neupor had barely begun. How desperate for entertainment would she be by the end of winter?

  A pack of cards were in her bag, but the thought of trying to teach Ross the basic rules of any game was nothing short of a joke. Nevin probably knew how to play poker, but he would refuse if she asked him. For all his contempt of the Iron Wolves in general and her in particular, he was not so stupid or arrogant as to think he could beat her—which was a pity. While Deryn had no wish to socialize with the slob, the thought of taking money off him had its attraction.

  The inkling of a scheme drifted into Deryn’s head. Nevin would undoubtedly take up the challenge to play against Ross, confident of victory. He would also be certain to bet heavily. Could she work out a way to fix the cards so that Ross was guaranteed to win? Watching Nevin lose to him would be doubly sweet. Not only would the sergeant be out of pocket, but he would end up looking like a fool. Sorting it out would not be easy, giving that her accomplice would be unwitting (in every sense of the word), but it was something to occupy her mind.

  Possibly the biggest problem with this was that Ross would then think he was a champion card sharp, and get fleeced by the next person he met. Deryn frowned. She would not want that to happen. Ross was a well-meaning man, who tried his best. It was not his fault that his best did not amount to much. When the brains were dished out, somehow he had ended up in the line reserved for beetles.

  “Your horse is coming,” Ross said from the doorway.

  “Tia?”

  “Looks like her.”

  “Why isn’t she in the barn?” Deryn jumped off her bunk, alarmed.

  “Don’t know.”

  Admittedly, someone with far more intelligence than Ross might have had difficulty answering the question. There could be little to show how Tia had escaped and made her own way back. “Is she all right?”

  “I suppose so. That healer woman is leading her. She might know.”

  “Right, Ross.” Deryn patted his back, grateful that he had finally gotten the important information out, giving her a moment to ready herself before meeting Alana. She squeezed passed him, her face set in an expression of pleased surprise. “Hi. I didn’t expect you to bring Tia back. I was going to collect her myself tomorrow.”

  “I know. But I was coming into Neupor, and she’d been doing well. I thought I’d save you the journey.”

  “Thanks.”

  Tia’s greeting whicker was a welcome distraction, an excuse to switch the focus of attention to her horse. Deryn stroked Tia’s nose while mustering her self-composure. She needed to. Deceiving herself was pointless. She had been both dreading and looking forward to meeting Alana again.

  In breaking down as she had, Deryn knew she had handed over ammunition that could rip her apart. Would Alana try to use it? The unfamiliar feeling of vulnerability made Deryn’s stomach knot. And how did Alana view her? As a sad victim? A new topic to spread gossip about? A wounded soul needing
treatment? All of these were unbearable. Deryn desperately wished she could run away, but she was tied to Neupor for the winter, with no escape.

  All this was bad enough, but some inane part of her was excited to see Alana. It was a part that still fantasized about kissing those lips, and imagined the evening in Alana’s cottage could be erased from their memories as if it had not happened. It still hoped she could work a way back into Alana’s bed. Worst of all, if Deryn did not get it under control, that inane part of her was readying itself to start flirting.

  Ain’t gonna happen. Even as the words went through her head, Deryn felt her resolve weaken. Why did Alana have that sort of effect on her? And more to the point, how was Deryn to put an end to it?

  “It’s good to have Tia back.”

  “She’s pleased to be back. She trusts you.”

  Really? I don’t trust myself, with you around. “I’ll take her to the stable.”

  “I’ll come with you.”

  Deryn did not know what bothered her more—the offer, or the surge of pleasure it caused her.

  The stable stood on the outskirts of Neupor, close by the dock. A corral was on one side, and a hay shed on the other. Its standard of maintenance was better than many of the nearby houses. This was no great feat in itself, but it said enough about the owner that Deryn was happy to entrust Tia to his care. The doors shut and the straw thatch kept the rain out. Both of these features made it an improvement on the marshal’s station. The horses were well fed and the smell was no worse than Nevin’s farts. Deryn was more than half tempted to move in with Tia.

  There was certainly enough space. One small building serviced the entire village, and even then it was half empty. The marshal’s men were the only ones to make regular use of it during the winter, the only ones with dedicated riding horses. In summer, when the docks were busy, no doubt the wagoners needed the spare capacity.