Heart of the Winterland

by Kristen Kooistra

  She had intercepted a message from T’Nahke on her journey back. The news hadn’t been promising. T’Nahke had settled in, searched the town, but found no sign of the girl. That was four days ago. She hoped for T’Nahke’s sake that he had something for her. The only other news in his message was his location: the Everlasting Flame.

  Fortunately, the place seemed well-known as the first villager she asked pointed her in the right direction. By the time she arrived, the townsfolk were out in numbers. The Everlasting Flame squatted between two houses, unassuming to even Kota’s discerning eye. Shadows cast by the neighboring houses overlapped across the roof of the tavern. Shutters drawn across the tavern windows kept prying eyes out.

  Her lip curled. This is going to be one of those degrading taverns. He’s probably been sequestered here the whole time, pawing women instead of searching.

  She swung out of the saddle, led Malnu to the hitching post outside the tavern, and then strode through the front door. The room was unexpectedly quiet. A few scarlet-clad women bustled through the kitchen door, ferrying stacks of dirty dishes. In the corner sat T’Nahke, who appeared to be the only customer.

  Kota marched over and dropped into the seat across from him. Her fingers drummed the tabletop as she waited for him to speak. Engrossed in his breakfast, composed of sausage and eggs, T’Nahke didn’t acknowledge her presence. Her brows furrowed. She hated being ignored.

  With lightning speed, Kota slammed her palm on the edge of T’Nahke’s plate, flipping the contents in the air. The sight of his breakfast being flung in the air and dropping to the floor caused T’Nahke to look up with a growl.

  She grabbed the pouch containing her writing materials. With angry strokes, she wrote her message.

  Do not try my patience. I’ve just arrived after a long trip, where I had to deliver my best man to his father so he can be groomed into a worthless noble. Trust me. You do not want to push me.

  The big man still looked sullen, but the feral look left his eyes. He looked mournfully at the eggs, now gracing the dirty floorboards. “I haven’t found the girl.”

  Kota clenched her teeth and closed her eyes, anger flooding her body. Before she could respond, T’Nahke continued, “I thought I found her. There’s a redheaded barmaid here. Only girl I’ve seen in town with that color hair. She’s not the one, though.”

  Kota sat back against the seat. It would do no good to berate T’Nahke. They didn’t have any leads. She would have to deal with it. Another quick message to T’Nahke. Where’s the redhead?

  “Haven’t seen her this morning. There’s some big ruckus over a girl not cleaning up last night.” He jerked his thumb in the direction of the barmaid scrubbing the tables. “She and another one have been taking care of last night’s mess. Neither one is very happy about it.”

  He rose from the table, avoiding the eggs on the floor. “Going to talk to the owner. See if she knows of any strangers with flaming hair.”

  Why hadn’t he done that sooner? And how dare he take charge! Kota bit back her ire. It’d probably be easier for T’Nahke to do the questioning anyway. She’d let him have his moment of control.

  T’Nahke adopted a cocky walk as he strolled over to the barmaid. “Sheela, sweetheart, is Mizta around?” He leaned against the wall, running his gaze over the woman.

  She scowled at him and then smacked his arm with the cleaning cloth. “Don’t you sweetheart me. Rose would have my hide if she caught me flirting with her guy.”

  T’Nahke grinned, grabbing the end of Sheela’s cloth and pulling her into his arms. “Well, maybe you don’t have a choice.”

  Before Sheela could react, Kota drew her dagger and began to casually flip it in her palm. T’Nahke caught the motion, frowned, and released Sheela. “Tell Mizta to get out here.”

  Sheela shot him a glare as she marched into the kitchen. A few seconds later, she reappeared, followed by a well-rounded woman whose light brown hair rested limply on her shoulders.

  “Aye, who do you think you are ordering me about?” Her voice held the barest hint of an accent.

  “I’m a soldier for Duke Bludgaard.” He indicated Kota. “This is my captain. We have a few questions for you.”

  Mizta’s face paled, making her look like an undercooked loaf of bread. “I’ll answer best I can.” She gave an awkward curtsy, halting halfway as though unsure of the gesture.

  “We’re on the trail of a girl with fiery hair, like Rose’s. Have you seen anyone in town that could be her?”

  Mizta took a second to answer. “Rose is the only person I’ve ever met with red hair. Aye, that’s why I hired her. She catches the eye of any man who comes in here.” She gave T’Nahke a look that clearly said, ‘you included.’

  Kota stood, walked to within a few paces of the speakers, and flipped the dagger around her fingers. This is getting us nowhere. She let her silence insinuate aloofness and pride. Commoners, and even some nobles, assumed she believed herself too far above them to demean herself by talking to them. I am above them. But if I could speak, they would find I wouldn’t hesitate to interrogate them.

  Footsteps pounded outside. The front door flew open to reveal a vivacious woman, scarlet hair spilling from her cloak.

  Mizta sighed, shoulders slumping. “Rose, get over here. These people are looking for another redhead.”

  Rose barely glanced at Kota, before shrugging casually and smiling at T’Nahke. With a flip of her hair, she sashayed towards T’Nahke. “Another redhead. Why, T’Nahke, I’m hurt.” Her lips puckered into a pout.

  He stared coldly at her, not reacting to her flirtations. “Answer the question, Rose.”

  An indecipherable look crossed Rose’s face and she folded her arms. The sultry tone now gone, she replied, “No, I’ve never seen another person with red hair. Unless you count my grandmother, who is dead.”

  The kitchen door swung open. A rotund woman bustled into the room, followed by a dark-eyed woman with skin like roasted hazelnuts. They both drew up short when they spotted the tense group. The bigger woman was the first to speak.

  “Pardon me.” She glanced hesitantly at Mizta. “I was just comin’ to tell you that Kaya is back.” She gestured to the woman behind her, who leaned on a makeshift crutch.

  Kota hadn’t missed Kaya’s reaction to the scene. She had tensed and a look passed between her and Rose. They know something. Kota began twirling the dagger again as she strode back to the table containing her writing materials.

  The group stood in the center of the room, not daring to openly watch her. She smiled to herself. Good. They’re afraid. They won’t leave for fear of drawing my ire. Taking her time, Kota scrawled a message. When she finished, she leaned back against the chair, tapping her fingers against the tabletop.

  T’Nahke walked over and dropped in the seat opposite her. The tavern owner and her help shot glances at each other and fidgeted. T’Nahke slid the paper closer and his eyes roved over the message.

  The girls, Rose and Kaya, they know something. Get that information by any means necessary. I’m done playing games. Make them talk.

  He nodded and rose from the table. Kota remained sitting. Her presence would cause the most impact here rather than standing silently behind T’Nahke.

  T’Nahke walked over to Rose and folded his arms. “Where’s the girl, Rose? We know you’re hiding something. It’ll go worse for you if you lie.”

  Rose’s chin lifted and a steely look entered her eyes. Kota’s frustration bubbled under the surface. She’s not going to give him anything.

  “I have nothing to say to you, or your captain,” she spit the last word.

  Mizta, who’d been fidgeting impatiently, burst out, “For heaven’s sake, girl. Tell them what they want to know or you’ll be out of work.”

  The matronly woman, who Kota guessed from the flour on her hands was the cook, broke in. “What is it you think Rose knows? She’s an ‘ard-worker and keeps ‘er nose clean. What can she possibly be ‘iding that’s so impo
rtant the Guard need interfere?”

  T’Nahke answered, “We have reason to believe she knows the whereabouts of a fugitive we’ve been tracking. A maiden with red hair, possibly traveling with another person.”

  The cook inhaled sharply. Her face paled as she sank into a nearby chair. T’Nahke returned his attention to Rose. “You don’t have a choice in this.” He stepped forward, hauling Rose against his chest, and pressing a knife to her neck. The movement so fast, no one had time to react. “I won’t ask you again. Where’s the girl?”

  From where she sat, Kota could see the defiance in Rose’s eyes. The threat hadn’t lessened her determination.

  “Let her go!” Kaya’s cry echoed in the room. “You can’t do this. You can’t prove she knows anything. There are laws.”

  The corner of T’Nahke’s mouth quirked up. “Sweetheart, laws don’t apply to the Guard. Unless you have something that’ll save your friend’s life, I suggest you stand there and be quiet.”

  Kaya and Rose looked at each other. Rose shook her head almost imperceptibly. Satisfaction curled like a contented kitten in Kota’s stomach. This was too good. Both know something and they care about each other.

  Rose pressed her lips together. It appeared she’d said the last she was going to say on the matter. T’Nahke pressed the knife against her neck, causing the skin to split.

  “No, stop!” Again, Kaya interrupted, this time stepping forward. “I’ll tell you what you want to know. Just let her go.”

  “No, Kaya. Don’t give them what they want.” For the first time, Rose’s stubborn mask slipped, showing her panic.

  T’Nahke thrust Rose from him, turning to Kaya. “Talk.” Kaya shot an apologetic glance at Rose, who’d fallen against the table and now pressed a hand to the cut on her neck.

  “She was here, but she’s gone now. She had a friend who was working here.”

  “Where’d they go?”

  “West, towards Gluganhaven. They left last night.”

  Kota frowned. Why go to Gluganhaven? Even to throw me off her trail, it doesn’t make sense.

  The room waited to see what the captain would do. Kota rose from her chair and nodded at T’Nahke, silently accepting the answer. She marched to the door, pausing with her hand on it, waiting.

  T’Nahke’s face was tight and unreadable. Kaya hobbled to Rose’s side and helped her to her feet. They faced each other, tears running down Kaya’s face. “I’m sorry, Rose. You’re more important to me.”

  Rose reached out and squeezed Kaya’s hand just as T’Nahke walked behind her. She opened her mouth to respond, but only a gasp escaped.

  She looked down, hands releasing Kaya’s and fluttering to her chest where T’Nahke’s dagger now protruded. Not bothering to withdraw the knife, T’Nahke went to join Kota.

  Kaya dropped her crutch and awkwardly caught Rose as she dropped. Her screams rent the air as she lowered Rose to the floor. “Rose! No, no, no, Rose, please stay with me!” She tried in vain to staunch the blood that flowed from the wound. Mizta, Sheela, and the cook stared in horror, before turning and fleeing through the kitchen door.

  Rose’s trembling hands tried to stop Kaya’s frantic movements. “Kaya, it’s too late,” she whispered, her voice weak. Kaya stopped and tears streamed freely down her face, dropping onto her bloodstained hands.

  She screamed at the emotionless T’Nahke. “Why? You had what you wanted.”

  “No one defies the Guard.” His brows lowered. “And no one defies me.”

  Kota stared impassively. Another peasant was dying. The world would surely survive that. She grasped the handle of the door and pulled it open, motioning for T’Nahke to precede her. Before following, she looked once more at the two figures, one weeping, the other struggling to speak.

  “Goodbye, Kaya. You,” Rose coughed, spitting up blood, “best sister . . . I could ever ask . . . for.” The shuddering frame went still, hands falling from Kaya’s.

  Kota stepped out the door, disgusted at the sentimentality of the dying girl. Dead girl now.

  T’Nahke was waiting as she closed the door. “To Gluganhaven then?”

  She shook her head, untied Malnu, and swung astride. Without hesitation, she turned him east, towards the sea. T’Nahke followed, his long strides keeping pace with Malnu’s walk.

  When will people learn not to lie to me? Gluganhaven. Nothing but an attempt to throw me off the trail. The girl probably did leave last night, but I’d wager she went to the docks. Someone there must have seen her.

  Chapter 19

  Cali rolled over in the bunk, groaning as she grabbed the nearby bucket and spewed bile into it. Her stomach had long ago emptied any remnants of food, but still it heaved. Someone took the bucket from her grip and gingerly placed it to the side. Cali looked up to see a stoic Angel.

  “Go ahead and laugh. I know you want to.” Cali was too miserable to care.

  Angel settled on her own bunk, before propping her elbows on her knees. “I don’t get why you’re sick. We haven’t even left the port yet.”

  Cali moaned, “Don’t tell me that. Does this rocking ever cease?”

  Angel’s lips twitched. “Cali, I’m trying very hard not to tease you about this, but you’re making it really difficult.”

  In answer, Cali rolled towards the wall. Why haven’t we left yet? I can see sunlight pouring through the window. We should have departed hours ago.

  Voices outside their door argued, albeit at a low volume. Cali strained to catch the words.

  “Everyone on the docks is talking about it,” a female voice said.

  “Dae Ah look loch Ah care two shakes what them gossipin’ auld kimmers say?” Captain Rebol retorted.

  “You’ll care a lot when that woman and her attack dog search our ship. They’re looking for two women, one with red hair,” the woman hissed. “I may not know the color of their hair, but you told me we had two female passengers. I’m not daft you know.”

  “Now listen here, lassie—”

  The door swung open and slammed against the wall. In the doorframe loomed a fierce-looking woman dressed in black pants and a tight fitting shirt of the same color. A black hat with three points perched sideways on her head, giving her a roguish appearance. Brown eyes roved the room, taking in Cali, Angel, and even Voice. A sheepish Captain Rebol stood behind her.

  The woman placed a hand on the doorway, leaning against it, while her other hand rested on her hip. “Well, look at what we have here,” she said in mock surprise. “Two stowaways and apparently one is magical.” She gestured at Voice. “Though I don’t think it’s dark enough in here to need a light.”

  Captain Rebol glared at the woman’s back. “Loch here, Kileah, if Ah wanted a saucy first mate, Ah would hae asked for one.”

  Kileah looked over her shoulder, not changing her stance. “Captain, you knew very well when you promoted me that saucy doesn’t even begin to describe me. Now, should I take these vagabonds to the brig? Or would you like me to ask Bludgaard’s she-dog to take care of them for us?”

  Captain Rebol brushed past the smirking Kileah and entered the room. He nodded at each of them. “Don’t mean tae barge in loch this. We hae been delayed as nae doobt ye noticed. Th' lest shipment we were expectin' arrived late. They’re just now loadin' it aboard.”

  Kileah continued to lean against the doorframe, studying her fingernails. Captain Rebol shot her a glare, smoothed his navy blue jacket and faced Cali. “Thes be mah first mate, Kileah. A bit hard-hearted, but she gets th' job done.”

  At this, Kileah straightened. “Like there’s room on this ship for any tenderness. You want me to leave, just say the word.” She stomped from the room.

  The captain looked like the cat who’d got in the cream. “She’s th' best. Keeps th' wee jimmies in line. Handy wi' a sword too. Pirates think twice before hittin' our ship. Can’t let 'er ken that of course. She’d gie a bigger head than she has a’reddy.”

  Cali nodded dumbly, not quite sure what to say.
/>
  Angel spoke up. “There’s people looking for us, isn’t there?”

  The smug look fled Captain Rebol’s craggy face. “Och aye, th' captain of th' guard. An' one of 'er men too. They showed up shortly before our cargo arrived. They’re questionin' th' dockworkers an' th' sailors.”

  Cali’s stomach roiled, but she fought the urge to spew again. “Will they find us?”

  Captain Rebol flashed a roughish grin. “Don’t yer worry yer bonnie wee head, lassie. Ah don’t reckon anyone saw ye climb aboard last night. As soon as we’re loaded, we’ll nip right out of port wi' nae body th' wiser.” He turned and walked toward the door. Without turning around, he stopped at the threshold and spoke, “Perhaps, ye should gie some rest before we sail. You’re lookin' a wee green behin' th' gills.” He did turn then, the corner of his mouth quirked up. “Try nae tae make a mess on mah floor.”

  Cali’s cheeks burned as the captain stepped out of the room and shut the door. I just had to be the one to get sick. This is going to be a long voyage. Taking the captain’s advice to heart, she curled up on the bunk and was soon dozing fitfully.

  ❄❄❄

  Angel tapped her foot against the floor. Every few seconds, she’d glance out the port window. Out. Out. Out. The words beat their rhythm in her head. She had mixed feelings about boats and though she was glad to be out of town, being stuck below deck wasn’t much better.

  “Angel,” Voice hissed, “you’re driving me mad.”

  Angel stilled her leg. “Sorry, I’m going stir-crazy in here.” A few seconds passed. She glanced at the sleeping Cali. She really is something. Working for Kaya like she did. I wouldn’t have done that, and I’m used to working.

  Voice’s loud sigh broke into her thoughts. She realized her leg had resumed its antsy jiggling. In one smooth movement, she stood and grabbed a cloak from the pile of clothing Captain Rebol had left for them the night before.

  “What are you doing?”