Wolfsbane Winter

by Jane Fletcher

  Deryn got Tia settled in her stall and stowed her tack, while being all too aware of Alana’s eyes on her. She tried to concentrate on the task. Tia ought to be her first concern, Deryn reminded herself, although this was not much of a distraction since Tia was clearly doing fine. Her leg was not unusually warm and she was moving freely.

  “How long before she’ll be okay to ride?”

  “I’d leave it another couple of days, if I were you. Then just a little gentle exercise to start, not too far. But you know your horse. I’m sure you can judge how she’s doing.”

  “Good. She doesn’t like being kept inside.”

  “I noticed.”

  “Has she been misbehaving?”

  “Not really. She was missing you. But she can be a handful and gets bored easily. She became a touch overexcited whenever I turned up.”

  Like rider, like horse. Deryn hung Tia’s harness on its hook. “What do I owe you?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I normally take payment in kind from the farmers. I don’t know if you’ve got anything I want.” Alana smiled as she spoke.

  “Maybe I’ll think of something I can do for you. Is there anything you’d like me to do?” Flustered, Deryn turned to rub Tia’s nose. Ain’t gonna happen. Ain’t gonna happen.

  “Did you have anything in mind?”

  “I could chop logs.”

  “I can chop them for myself.”

  Alana’s tone was light, teasing. The humor in her voice brought out its soft richness. Her underlying intelligence was clear in her ease with the game of words. And her lips were still so very kissable.

  Despite everything in her head telling her to back off, Deryn stopped stroking Tia and turned to face Alana. Why fight it? “Doing things for yourself can be a bit unsatisfactory, don’t you think? It’s much more fun having someone lend a hand. I could take care of you.”

  “Are we still talking about chopping wood?”

  “Do you want to?”

  “Do you?” Alana took a step forward so that she stood directly in front of Deryn, with barely a hand’s breadth between them. Her eyes met Deryn’s, dancing with both amusement and desire. Her lips opened just enough for Deryn to see the tip of her tongue.

  “What would you like to talk about?”

  And then, between one heartbeat and the next, Alana’s expression changed. Her eyes broke contact with Deryn’s, dropping first to her feet and then flicking anxiously to the door. She turned and half stumbled away. “Um…well, what I need to talk about is a bag of grain to see the chickens through winter. That’s why I came into Neupor. I ought to be moving on. I’m pleased Tia’s okay, and that I could help. But I’ll, er…be off. See you around, soon, maybe.”

  The words came in such a rush that Alana was out the door before Deryn had processed them all. “Ah, yeah. Bye. And will you—”

  Deryn stopped. Alana was no longer there to hear.

  What the hell? Deryn felt thoroughly aggrieved. She stood with her hands on her hips, staring at the open stable door. Who said Alana got first claim on running away? That was her role. It always had been in the past.

  Deryn turned and stroked Tia’s nose. “What got into her? She looked like she was about to kiss me, and then she ran away. I didn’t say anything to scare her off, did I? That was just weird of her.”

  The snort from Tia was in total agreement.

  “Do you think it’s her idea of playing hard to get?”

  Tia appeared to give this serious consideration.

  “It isn’t going to work. If she thinks I’m going to start chasing after her, she’s got a surprise coming. Dammit. The last thing I want is to get stuck with someone.”

  Now Tia looked a little skeptical.

  “Oh come on! Don’t you think I’ve learned my lesson? If it hadn’t been for those whores back in Oakan, I wouldn’t be in this god-awful dump to start with. Alana’s pretty. Got a good body. She’s easy company. She seems bright enough. Nice smile. But that’s it. She ain’t going to get me wound round her finger. I’m not that much of a fool.”

  Tia’s nostrils flared as she rolled her top lip back.

  Deryn scowled at her horse. “And you can keep that thought to yourself.”

  She checked the hay, filled the water bucket, and then stomped back to the marshal’s station. Ross had left the door and was lying on his bunk, which was another of his favorite occupations. The bad news was that Nevin had returned and was at the table with a half-empty bottle of wine before him. He would not offer to share it. He never did.

  “I hear you’ve got your horse back.”

  “Yes.”

  “That healer woman from up the valley brought it down.”

  “Alana.”

  Nevin took a swig of wine and belched. “Yeah, Alana. That’s her name. I’ve seen her around a few times. She’s got a nice pair of tits on her.”

  Ross sniggered. Deryn ignored him. He only had half a brain, and could not be held fully accountable. Nevin did not have the same excuse.

  “Really? I didn’t notice.”

  “She’s got a cute face too. Definitely screwable. Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it.”

  “My horse was lame. Alana was looking after her. That was the only thing on my mind.”

  “That’s not what I’ve heard about you Iron Wolves. Anything with a pulse and two legs and you’ll hump it.”

  Ross sniggered again.

  The thought of battering Nevin to a pulp with a large club had never been more attractive. Deryn turned her back on him and stood in the open doorway. If Tia had been fit she would have gone for a ride. Anything to get away from the obnoxious fool.

  Nevin would not shut up. “Her girlfriend walked out on her a year ago, so I’ve heard. She ought to be up for it.” He belched again. “I reckon she ought to be damn well desperate. I might call round myself. See if I can interest her in my old one-eyed snake.”

  “She’s a good healer. But I haven’t heard she can bring the dead back to life.”

  Without waiting for a reply, Deryn set off at a brisk walk. Maybe she could find someone who could sell her a fishing rod. There was the river in Neupor and she had often though about learning to fish. Failing that, maybe she could find someone who could sell her a club.

  *

  Alana plodded up the hill. The bag of grain over her shoulder was weighing her down, but not as heavily as her thoughts. What was wrong with her?

  During the previous two days, Alana had gone over her feelings about Deryn often enough until she had everything sorted out. She had to keep the Iron Wolf at arm’s length. They could be friends, but that was it. It had been all perfectly rational and under control, right up until the second she had set eyes on Deryn again, and then the good intentions had gone straight out the window. Yes, she found the woman attractive, but how could she be so enamored as to leave all common sense behind? What had she been thinking of? For a moment in the stable, she had been on the point of stepping into Deryn’s arms and kissing her. Alana shook her head, amazed at her own recklessness.

  When she lived in Ellaye, she had thought she understood how common people viewed the demon-spawn aristocracy. Her time in Neupor had provided many surprises, but possibly the biggest was finding out how wrong she had been. Not that the commoners held any love for the demon-spawn. Quite the opposite. They did not hold any marked feelings at all.

  The apathy had been unexpected. Most commoners did not spare a thought for the aristocracy from one month to the next. The king himself was dismissed with a shrug, the few times his name came up. The remaining demon-spawn nobles never got mentioned at all. Alana had been wryly amused by her own reaction to this. The demon-spawn were the most important people in Galvonia. They ran the country. They owned most of it. How dare the peasants ignore them?

  Scratch me, and a little bit of my mother will show through.

  Even so, this did not mean Alana could divulge her backgroun
d in safety. Maybe the commoners, on a daily basis, wasted little time, breath, or thought on their demon-spawn masters, but it did not mean they held no opinion at all. What little attitude they expressed had been utterly and unreservedly scornful. More significantly, there were a few who were far more hostile. Maybe because of personal history. Maybe because of strongly held political views. Or maybe because they were aggressive thugs with chips on their shoulders who were on the lookout for any reason to cause trouble. If Alana’s heritage became known, one or two instigators might be all it took to inflame the rest. Could they rouse a large group to attack her?

  Scratch a group of commoners and find a demon-spawn hunting mob.

  The thought was chilling, but were her fears overblown? Eldora and her family were decent people, as were most others she had met since leaving Ellaye. Alana could not imagine them joining with others to harm her, but equally, if they knew what she was, they would no longer treat her as part of their community. She would be an outcast, and Alana had learned enough in the past two years to know that without the support of neighbors, life in the mountains would be impossible.

  Alana shifted the bag of grain on her shoulder. Would Gavin, owner of the small store, have sold chicken food to one of the demon-spawn? Would anyone tend her cow and hens if she fell ill? Would anyone help put out the fire if a thug with a grudge set her cottage alight? The answer to these questions might not be beyond doubt, but one “no” was all it took. The result was unavoidable. Alana dared not let anyone deep enough into her life that they might uncover the truth about her. So what was it about Deryn that made her ignore the risks?

  Where are you keeping your brains these days?

  Alana gave a wry grimace. Was that the answer—simply that she had been celibate for far too long? Maybe all she needed was to get laid. In which case, why not Deryn? The thought brought Alana up short, both literally and figuratively. She stopped and turned to stare back at Neupor, in the distance. Why not Deryn?

  Keeping her demon-spawn ability hidden from a serious, long-term partner would be impossible, but a long-term relationship was not on offer. Deryn’s work with the marshal’s men was only for winter. Unlike everyone else in Neupor, Deryn was a temporary fixture. In the spring the Iron Wolf would be off on the Misery Trail again. Surely that made her safe.

  A short-term fling. Why not? Alana felt an immediate recoil from the idea. Why? Because it isn’t a short-term fling you want with her.

  Alana frowned. That made no sense either. She had spent one night talking with Deryn and five minutes when she took the horse back. She did not know the woman well enough to make any sort of judgment about how serious a relationship with her might become. And if she went into the affair knowing they would part in a few short months, of course she would not, could not, lose her heart—not to a low-born Iron Wolf mercenary.

  Oh yes. There’s my mother again. Alana turned and carried on trudging up the hill.

  Deryn was definitely doing strange things to her head—or possibly doing strange things inside her head. Alana was sure that she was genuinely attracted to Deryn, but she was equally sure that part of what she was feeling was picked up from the other woman. The sudden panic that had sent her running from the stable had seemed as though it was prompted by fear of exposing her demon-spawn ancestry, but it matched the way Deryn had run from her cottage the morning after they met.

  Alana frowned, probing into her emotions, hunting for a response. Was that why the idea of a short fling felt wrong? The absurd, conflicting emotions were all Deryn, maybe due to her tragic background? Who could say what Deryn was looking for in a relationship? Unless Alana could push Deryn out of her head, how on earth could she work out what she truly wanted for herself? And without knowing the answer to that, how could she ever hope to be happy?

  Instinctively Alana’s hand clasped the talisman at her neck. She so desperately wanted to regain her barriers and shut the world out. Part of her reason for going into Neupor that day was to see how much progress she was making. The small hamlet was not much of a test, but she thought she was coping with the massed bombardment of emotions better than before. She might never be able to return to Ellaye, but this was no problem. She was far happier out of that game and had no wish to go back. She just desperately needed to be sure of who she was.

  Her cottage came into view. Alana raised her eyes. Above the flank of Mount Pizgar, the distant peak of Voodoo Mountain broke the skyline. The mountain held a grim place in local legend. Alana had heard all the stories tying it with the Age of Chaos, the demons and those they possessed. Alana sighed. The evil villains of the stories were her ancestors. The past was not forgotten and could not be undone. It still cast its shadow over the living. If the commoners hated the demon-spawn, it might not be fair, but it was not without cause.

  Beads of sweat were trickling down her back, due to the exertion of climbing the hill with the heavy sack. Despite this, Alana shivered.

  Nyla’s farm, 2 miles south of Neupor, northern Galvonia

  Five days later, octubre 23, mid morning

  Nyla’s farm lay at the head of Sprig Valley, on the same road as Finn’s, but several miles closer to Neupor. Tia had made the short journey without problem. Deryn tied the mare’s reins to a post and stood, puzzling over the ramshackle farmstead. From what she could see, the farm’s most noteworthy feature was that it lay in an even worse state of repair than any of the others along the way. Why was Nevin bothered about this one?

  “What’s so important about Nyla?”

  Although many would have claimed it was impossible, Ross managed to look more confused than normal. “Nothing. She’s just a farmer.”

  “I mean, why has Nevin dragged us out here?”

  “Like he said. Because she’s had some sheep stolen.”

  Deryn rested her forehead on Tia’s flank, trying to summon strength from her horse. There had to be something special about Nyla, or her farm. Unlike the previous report of lost sheep, as soon as the news arrived, Nevin had chivvied her and Ross into saddling their horses as if he had a hot coal up his butt. They had ridden off to investigate, without a chance to talk outside his hearing.

  Deryn stepped away from Tia’s side and raised her head. Nevin had not reappeared from the farmhouse. Would she have long enough to wheedle any information out of Ross? Would it be worth the effort if she did?

  “There has to be more to it. When Finn’s sheep went missing, Nevin couldn’t have cared less. But one word from this Nyla and it’s like his ass is on fire.”

  Deep furrows appeared on Ross’s brow as he struggled with the problem. At last he shrugged. “I dunno. I guess he likes his sister more than he likes Finn.”

  The door to the farmhouse opened. Deryn took one look and smiled. If only she had waited a little longer, she could have saved herself the effort of questioning Ross. As far as appearances went, the main difference between the two siblings was that Nevin’s chins were covered in dark stubble. Most likely, his sister was clean faced only because she did not need to shave, but Deryn wanted to reserve judgment until she got a closer look at the farmer.

  “Right, you two. Get over here.” Nevin bellowed the order.

  His sister had already plodded off, leading the way along a muddy track, past a horse trough covered with a layer of green slime, a hay barn that looked on the point of collapse, a vegetable plot that seemed to be used mainly for growing weeds, and the remains of a cart with a snapped axle. The conclusion Deryn drew was that Nyla was as good a farmer as Nevin was a soldier. Even the sheepdogs acted bored.

  Nyla stopped by a pasture that was half stocked with dejected-looking sheep. Admittedly dejection was the natural demeanor for sheep, but these did seem less happy with their lot than normal. Deryn was not surprised.

  The farmer pointed at the gate. “What are you going to do about it?”

  Deryn was aware both Nyla and Nevin were glaring at her, obviously waiting for an answer. She frowned. It was not a very nice gate
, but in no worse a state than anything else in the farm.

  “What do you think needs doing?”

  “My sister has had some of her sheep stolen. She doesn’t need smart-ass comments from you,” Nevin snarled.

  “Sorry. I’m just confused what role this gate has in the theft.”

  “The fucking gate was open when I woke up this morning. Sheep were wandering all over the damned place. I was pissed enough about that. But when I rounded them up I found the fucking bastards had swiped two.” Nyla clearly had a turn of phrase to match her brother.

  “You think thieves left the gate open?”

  “Who the fuck else would it be? The sheep can’t open it themselves.”

  “You’re sure you didn’t leave the gate open last night?”

  “Of course I’m fucking sure. Do you think I’m a fool or something?”

  Definitely “or something.” Deryn kept the thought to herself. “Where did you find the ones that had strayed?”

  “What’s that got to do with it?”

  “Because if I’m looking for prints, I don’t want to start tracking sheep you’ve already brought back.”

  Nevin always seemed to take malicious satisfaction from withholding information and refusing to answer questions. Judging by Nyla’s frown, she would have liked to play the same game, but her desire to get her sheep back stood in the way. “Most hadn’t gone far. They were hanging around outside the gate.”

  The sheep clearly lacked ambition. If Deryn had been one of them, she would have been off to find a better farm and would still be running. “And the rest?”

  “They were up in the woods, weren’t they?” Nyla’s tone implied Deryn was stupid not to have guessed. “It’s taken me hours to round the buggers up.”

  Nevin folded his arms so that they rested on top of his stomach. “So go on. You’re supposed to be the shit-hot scout. Look for tracks. Show us how the Iron Wolves do things.”

  Ignoring her sneering audience, Deryn took a moment to examine the gate. Despite its poor condition, it would not have swung open on its own, although this was not proof that thieves were at work. Deryn’s own personal bet still went on Nyla neglecting to latch it properly. If she shared her brother’s drinking habits, she would rarely go to bed sober. Deryn’s second guess was a prank by one of the neighbors’ children, or even someone older who held a grudge. Anyone blessed with Nyla’s personality had to have more than her fair share of enemies.