by Kim Wedlock
"That's it?" Garon asked, just as bewildered.
"I thought all kids knew how to do that," Anthis remarked. "Or, girls, at least."
"We're not kids!"
"Which I suppose explains it."
"That's really all you want?"
They nodded eagerly.
Aria didn't need to be asked. She stepped forwards and lifted another hank of her long, fair hair, and as several ditchlings gathered around her, their eyes wide and surely ready to absorb whatever they saw, she began to demonstrate. They quickly began to copy her actions, clumsily at first and perfectly only a moment later, and soon both boys and girls had twisted their knotted hair into elegant braids. As Rathen watched suspiciously, he spotted a few further back, too far to have seen for themselves, begin to join in.
Once she and the others had licked the ends to seal it, she grinned and stepped back in satisfaction, but rather than rejoin her father, she stopped in front of Nug and put her hands behind her back in a particularly polite manner that Rathen recognised was about to be followed by a 'please may I?'
"Please may I be so rude as to ask you for something?"
"For you," Nug grinned, "anything."
Anthis's eyebrows rose. Rathen's only lowered.
"I would like," she continued quite graciously, doing her scowling father proud, "if it isn't too much trouble, a piece of wood from your forest. A branch would do."
Nug rolled his head. "Easy."
Three ditchlings promptly scurried up a nearby tree as easily as if they'd been squirrels, and out along a branch surely too thin to support them. It did, though only just, and they lined up along its length. Each of the adults expected them to hold onto a higher branch for safety and jump up and down to break the one beneath them, but clearly that was too obvious, for instead they each bent down, took a firm grip of the wood between their feet and, presumably after a silent count of 1-2-3, jumped off backwards together and ripped the branch free with their momentum.
They landed hard on their rears with the limb sprawled across them, and they cackled with great enjoyment at their senseless lack of self-preservation, even as they winced. The others howled around them as they shared in their joy, and it became gradually more evident that the safer method had occurred to them, they'd just purposely decided against it.
"Why ever would she want a branch?" Anthis asked quietly as Aria squealed in delight and thanked them all profusely, but as she began analysing the wood, touching at the knots and kinks in its length, Rathen only smiled.
"Thank you," Aria gushed once again, "it's perfect - what do you want for this?"
Nug waved it away. "Nothin'. It's only a branch. We have plenty."
She turned and grinned at her father, then bowed gratefully to Nug before heading over to the horses to have her father fix the three-foot branch to the side of the saddle.
Anthis shook his head as he watched the two struggle. "Strange child." He and Garon duly followed, and after subtly filtering through the saddle bags to ensure nothing had been taken - Anthis paid special attention since he knew the deer-girl had been in his - they mounted the horses and followed the ditchlings as they led them off through the trees and away from their curious grove. They took sudden turnings from time to time, for no apparent reason but to ensure the humans were suitably lost, and warned them as they went of where a few others of their kind had made their homes and that they should only 'storm in' if it was 'absolutely, positively necessary.' Ditchlings gradually peeled away from the party the further from the grove they moved, leaving so silently that none of them noticed until only three of the wild children trailed behind them. When they finally drew to a stop, only Nug was left.
"Keep going that way," he told them, pointing towards the east with a dirty finger, "and you'll get to the edge of the forest. Then you'll be out of our way. Oh, and there shouldn't be any traps out there, but sometimes animals don't set 'em off so we forget about them."
"Thank you, Nug," Aria smiled, sitting tall in the saddle as she relished in the authority of speaking for the group. "We'll see you again when we come back to fix the tree."
"I hope so," he grinned back, "on both counts." He looked to Rathen, Garon and Anthis, then back to Aria. "It's just as well you're with them. Make sure they keep out of trouble."
"I certainly will."
"And you," he said, his weighted eyes suddenly flicking towards the rest as they stifled themselves at the thought, "look after her. I don't want her to be one of them lost kids that comes and lives with us 'cause they ran away from rubbish parents."
Rathen frowned sadly as he dragged his mind away from the thought. "She'll be fine," he promised Nug, as well as himself. "I'll never take my eyes off her."
"Good."
And with that, the ditchling turned away and started back through the forest without even a wave, leaving the group to continue along in silence, still slightly bewildered by the whole experience. Aria took the matter in her stride, however, and Rathen wondered if she truly understood much about the world around her, or if she viewed the whole 'adventure' as an exciting and harmless event like a story safe on the pages of a book. Entirely unfazed by an encounter that many would still have the shakes from, she leaned over from the front of the saddle and reached for her bag, twisting her way around Rathen though he told her to sit still and wait until later. She couldn't reach it comfortably, but that didn't seem to matter, so she ignored him and rummaged around blindly, her tongue sticking out in her concentration.
Rathen frowned down at her, wondering what she was doing as he knew how little was in the satchel, but just as he was about to ask what was wrong, she demanded they stop.
"We have to go back!" She wailed. "It's gone!"
"What's gone?" Anthis asked worriedly.
"My knife!"
He and Garon exchanged a perplexed look while Rathen's head hung in defeat. He knew he should have checked her bag; she'd been too infatuated by that stick to do it herself, never mind what she'd told him. "We're going to have to go back," he sighed, and though he offered them a glancing look of apology, no explanation followed. "She's not going to leave the matter."
"What knife?" Anthis pressed. "Why does she have a knife?"
"Whatever reason, we can't turn around," Garon assured them. "The ditchlings likely took it, and if they did, it will be trouble to get it back."
"No," Aria insisted, her eyes wide in horror, "but I need it!" She spun around and turned desperate, tearful eyes onto her father. "Daddy!"
"We have to go back." Without waiting for an argument, Rathen turned his horse around and urged it back along the trail. "I'll make sure it doesn't take long."
Anthis sent Garon an uneasy look, but he shortly turned and followed, leaving the inquisitor no course but to do the same. "They were obliging enough the first time," Garon reminded them quietly as he trotted up behind, "but they didn't want us there in the first place and even escorted us out. They're not going to take kindly to us walking back in."
"We have no choice."
They rode quietly at Rathen's lead, looking about with even greater caution than they had the first time. They scrutinised shadows, picked apart shapes in the branches, listened to the sounds of scurrying and tried to judge the size of those unseen creatures. And yet, despite having been in the company of a dozen ditchlings just moments ago, they encountered none at all. Whether that was because there were suddenly none around or because they saw no threat in the four, it was hard to say, but amongst the array of childlike qualities the ditchlings had already exhibited, fickle interest seemed far from unlikely.
They made it all the way back to the grove without crossing a single one, and found not a trace of the child-things even there. It was as though they'd all collectively decided to leave and do something elsewhere, abandoning their present activity on a whim, as Aria herself often did. But they didn't drop their guard.
"If they have it," Anthis began ever so quietly, looking around carefully as they d
rew to a stop where they'd left their horses the first time, but before he could finish his dubious thought, Aria pointed to the ground, declared she'd found it, and Rathen dutifully dismounted.
It was no wonder no one had noticed it when they'd left. The small pocket knife was nestled in amongst the long grass beside the horse's hoof, hidden well enough that it would never have been spotted without someone actually looking for it. But though it seemed it had simply fallen, she assured them that she hadn't been near the bags, let alone taken it or anything else out. So the others dismounted and checked their belongings once again, just in case the ditchlings had managed to snatch a moment to nose even while they'd been on the move.
But as Rathen sorted through his own, counting off the food, changes of clothes and other bits and pieces, his ear pricked at the briefest squeak nearby. He paused, his attention sharpening, and surveyed the grove with diligent eyes, picking carefully through the boughs of the trees they'd seen the ditchlings move through skilfully already, and then deeper into the forest around them.
"What is it?" Anthis asked quietly, following his gaze.
"I'm sure I heard something..." His dark eyes were fixed to the depths of the forest, and as Anthis prepared to ask him what it had been, the sound came again, louder and clearer than before, a short cry riddled with panic. And it was close.
Caution thickened the air, and they had to strain all the harder to hear through it. But while the others remained still and thoughtful, picking their surroundings apart, Rathen wasted not a moment. By the time they looked back to him he was already running through the trees, calling back for Aria to stay exactly where she was, but of course she didn't listen, just as he didn't when Garon ordered him to stop. She was on his heels just as quickly, leaving the others to follow suit and chase him through the thick woods.
Another pained and frustrated shout rose to the east and his course adjusted sharply towards it, and when an ear-piercing screech followed, not one footfall hesitated. Rathen hadn't even come to a stop when he began contorting his fingers, releasing his quickly-formed spell the very moment the muddy ditchling was in his sight, a sudden gust of dense wind battering the grey-dappled eagle off of her just as it raised its talons to break through her braced spear and slash through her neck.
The instant she was able, the ditchling leapt to her feet and readied her bloodied spear once again, unconcerned with what had thrown the creature off of her. But as the great bird, twice the size of the forest dweller, shoved itself back up from the ground and turned to face her, its yellow eyes flashing in rage, Rathen stopped between them and released another spell before it could recover its bearings. Stones suddenly began to pummel its pelt as Aria skidded to a stop behind a nearby bush, and as its sights flicked onto her instead, Garon appeared to one side with his sword readily drawn, and Anthis on the other, unarmed but at least providing another body to outnumber it.
The grey eagle shrieked furiously, its feathers smattered with its own blood from the ditchling's previous defence, but though it glowered at each of them with eyes flaming toxic yellow, it spread its enormous wings and, with a single powerful pump, rose up above the trees and set off over the forest.
"Yeah, fly away!" Aria jeered needlessly after it as Rathen turned towards the ditchling, but she only stared back up at him, her silver-green eyes made brighter by the mud she'd covered herself in. They widened further as he knelt beside her and asked if she was all right.
"I'm fine," she said with wonder, though her hand rose to her collarbone where blood was mixing with the dirt as she spoke, and he gently pulled it aside to have a look.
A sudden rustle came from the forest behind her and the others stepped forwards in response, but the girl wittingly ignored it. A number of ditchlings burst out from the trees, their own weapons at the ready, but they stumbled with the same surprise as she to find humans rather than a beast. Concern struck the four of them that the halfling arrivals might misunderstand, but the facts quickly and silently spread, and as three broke away to hurry through the forest after the eagle, the others stood down.
"Thank you," said one of the girls who was just as filthy as the rest, but half-covered with leaves. Rathen noticed as he pressed a handkerchief against the other's wound that while two more shared those adornments, the rest had decorated themselves in bits of bark and lichen. All the better to blend in with the forest. "You're a real friend."
His eyebrows rose. "I only got rid of a bird."
She shook her head, revealing the twigs tied in amongst her brown curls. "No big 'uns have ever helped us before. Just screamed and cursed and hit us with brooms - if we were lucky."
"Nah," another spoke up, "one old biddy did throw bread at us once - I think she thought it was a rock or summit."
Another grinned and laughed. "It was as good as helping!"
"It was nothing." He rose to his feet once he was satisfied that the wound wasn't serious, but they shook their heads in absolute disagreement as the injured ditchling rejoined them. Without another word, they began to melt back into the forest, those covered in patches of green scurrying up to the treetops where they leapt from bough to bough, while others kept close to the trunks and hurried soundlessly from one to the next. Only the girl lingered behind, and for that moment she looked at Rathen with eyes far older than she seemed. "It wasn't nothin'."
Then she, too, turned and vanished into the trees.
The three adults blinked after them while Aria smiled proudly at her father's back, and she shortly started back through the forest herself, apparently just as unaffected. The others were slow to follow, bemused even by this second encounter, but Rathen shook it off first and hurried after her, while Anthis looked up into the trees around them as they followed, musing quietly to himself. "What an unusual morning..."
Chapter 10
The gentle scent of apples and lavender had trailed the rolling streams down from the perfectly rounded hills, riding the warm air that swept out across the flower-studded fields sprawling beyond. He'd followed those waters in leisure through woodland and plains, his bare feet treading the soft grass while unseen birds warbled in the boughs around him. He didn't recognise their calls, but he felt no pressing need to discover their identities; their lilting songs were lullabies composed to soothe the spirit, and he had contently decided that that was enough to know they meant no harm. They were as harmless as everything else around him.
Salus had experienced four such dreams now, imagined journeys through a place - he was sure it was the same place - unspoiled by the hands of villains nor of those who would need protecting from them. A place where he was free of the impossible expectations placed upon him by others or by himself. A place where he could breathe figmented air that was clean and bracing, yet comforting, and wander for miles while contemplating nothing at all, for, at those moments, nothing was more important than embracing that peace.
Never had he slept so well than in the cradle of that place, and it was a welcome novelty to wake feeling so refreshed, focused and hopeful, especially in the looming shadow of war. Even as he sat patiently behind his desk early that afternoon, awaiting the Crown's liaison for another routine meeting, he was still absorbed in that serenity, as if he was still sat beside the crystal-clear river, watching the clouds roll by on its surface.
When the stillness was interrupted by the familiar musical rap, he didn't grunt in frustration as he usually would have, and he found it easy to turn his unknotted mind towards the heavy matters that followed when he bade the old man to enter. He even rose and smiled in greeting.
"Afternoon," Lord Malson said with a slight but wary frown as he closed the door behind himself, and eyed him with a brush of suspicion as he slowly took his usual seat in front of the desk. "Is everything all right?"
"Yes, just fine, thank you," Salus replied, sitting back down, and though his smile promptly vanished in favour of professionalism, his usual hard edge didn't follow. "Any news?"
Intrigue narrowed Malson
's eyes a fraction further. "The military is moving west. They'll be set up with time to spare before the Skees reach the border, and the forces stationed in the cities and most western towns have been given their orders to hold, but prepare a portion of their forces to join the main body at a moment's notice.
"Evacuation plans are being drawn up but we don't wish to put them into effect if we don't have to. It will be a great strain on nearby settlements, so we only want to move who we must, when we must. Stored supplies are also being prepared for transport; some will be rationed to the settlements most impacted by the military's movements, and the rest to the military itself."
Salus nodded, though it wasn't anything he didn't already know. He didn't let that on, of course; spying on his own people would be a crime, especially the military, but what they didn't know wouldn't hurt them and it seemed to be the only way he could know for certain what was happening. If he didn't have all the details, the Arana would be unable to act quickly enough if a situation called for it.
He straightened expectantly. "And new orders?"
"Yes," Malson continued, finally shifting his musing gaze, "secure what you can of Skilan's crops closest to the border and burn the rest - barring those that feed immediate settlements. Our feud is with King Jalund and those he sends against us, not the civilians. And when you meet your standing orders of uncovering the most likely attack point, head deeper in that direction and burn more. They're already weak; this can only help our position."
"It will be an unmistakable act of war on our part," Salus warned him mildly.
"They're already heading this way," Malson replied with a touch more weight, "and war is already upon us; there is no risk in antagonising them."
"As long as the king is aware."
"More than."
"Jolly good."
The Crown's envoy frowned again. "And have the spies in Skilan's army uncovered anything helpful?"
"Standard reports are due to come in later this afternoon," he replied, no less mildly, and handed him the usual summary file of Aranan activity. The old man began to flick through it as Salus continued. "There have been no spontaneous reports, however, so I don't expect anything ground-breaking. Our planted brigadier general was the one to have reported their intention of marching this way after their victory, but he was killed in the northern war during Kalokh's last-ditch attempt to win by shattering Skilan's chain of command. None of the others have managed to creep high enough in the ranks to be privy to the details of such plans so soon, and while we're working on changing that, whatever we uncover will almost certainly come from the agents closer to home first."