10. Rourk
Chapter ten
Rourk
I wake up with a pounding headache the next morning and see that I’m being watched. A scrawny dog is in the hut with me, panting lightly with its tongue out. I think I’ve seen this dog around the village but it’s beyond me why it’s so interested in watching me.
I get up, wincing at the throbbing in my head, and shoo the dog away. It stays in place and cocks its head curiously.
“Get out of here,” I say hoarsely. “Go on.” It doesn’t look to be leaving anytime soon.
I push myself to my feet and wave my hand wildly at him. “Go!”
The dog gets spooked and finally darts out of the hut.
The Shanti People really know how to make strong wine. I take a while to find my clothes and get dressed. As I pull on my sleeveless shirt, I realize my legs haven’t been bothering me. I don’t think I can push myself too much, but it’s a relief to not have any irritation or weakness in my movements .
The light is temporarily blinding when I leave the hut, with the sun a good way up the sky. Most of the village is already awake.
Several of the sister wives are at the main campfire in the center of the field, busy making what smells like a morning brew. The smoky aroma is drifting in the air and helping me wake up.
I stretch my lower back and greet the late morning sun, taking in the bird songs and low chatter of the mingling villagers. The short woman with the auburn hair, Magdalena, is standing between two of the tents, locked in a close conversation with two men. The oldest of them is Yovin, the old man who had told me I’d been brought to their village for a great purpose. The other is tall and robust, maybe a little older than me, with white streaks on the sides of his dark hair. I think his name is Colm. The three of them seem to be having a private, serious talk about something, tucked away in the shade between the tents. They notice me and disperse, their stern expressions softening into casual indifference and innocent smiles. I have to wonder what that had been about.
“You survived the festival,” a familiar voice says.
I turn to see Leila walking through the field. She’s wearing a faded brown apron, matching her long skirt that is swishing along the ground. A bowl of dark beans is in her hands. A friendly smile on her face greets me.
“I’m surprised, myself,” I say. “You Shanti People certainly hold your liquor better than any Oathlander.”
“Outsiders just don’t have our constitution,” she says with a smile and a wink. Her friendliness feels nice and is very welcome, especially compared to the scolding hatred I get from her sister. Her sister, who I have to fight to keep from looking around for now that I’ve thought of her.
I nod toward the bowl in her hands. “That’s right. You’re a sister wife?”
“Technically, yes,” Leila says. “Although I don’t partake in their activities as much as I should. Jonah and Milo take up too much of my time for that. I do what I can to be helpful, though.” She pauses and gives me a mischievous grin, like I’ve missed a joke. “You were seen last night, you know.”
I raise a brow. “I was seen?”
“Oh, yes, you were. With Wini Semassi. Out behind the tents.”
I let out a weary sigh.
Leila chuckles. “How did it go?”
“Nothing went,” I quickly respond, my mood souring. “Nothing happened. And she was very annoyed about that.”
Leila nods. “That sounds like our Wini. Well, you did the right thing. She’s certainly nothing but trouble.” She regards me for a moment and seems to approve of what she sees. “I’m impressed, Tarin. Few men can refuse the charms and curves of Wini Semassi.”
“I’m sure I’ll regret it,” I say, wondering how obvious my sarcasm is. “So… who saw us?”
She cocks an eyebrow. “Why? Are you worried my sister saw you?”
My face drops. “Huh? What do you mean?”
Leila chuckles lightly, enjoying herself. “Nothing. It was Abby Don’Dallen who had noticed the two of you sneaking around. She’s not one for spreading gossip, I promise. Abby only told me as a friend, knowing about your association with our family, so your secret is safe. Don’t worry, Galene doesn’t know.”
I frown in confusion. “I’m sure I don’t care what your sister knows or doesn’t know. I was only wondering if I would develop a reputation around here. I wouldn’t want people to get the wrong impression of me. Your people have been very kind to me, and I wouldn’t want to tarnish that.”
She has that appraising look in her eyes again. “Want to help us?” She nods towards the sister wives.
I go with her to the campfire and help ladle the morning tea into several mugs. This is the tea they call farro-fan, which has a potent, aromatic kick to it and helps clear away the morning haze. Many people would either be making their own tea, simply not be interested in it, or not be old enough to consume it. But the sister wives cater to the thirty or so people who would be happy to take a mug from them.
Around us, people have begun repairing the broken huts and structures of the village. Several of the hunters and workers are cutting down trees in the distance. A large collection of trunks and branches has been collected and brought over by carts. A group of people are busy carving the wood into beams and poles with expert ease.
Eventually, I can’t help but ask, “Why did you think I’d care if Galene saw? Or if she knew?”
Leila just smiles.
Cryptic. I take a tray with tea mugs and take it around the nearby huts and tents, allowing people to help themselves. The walk around the village is helping to clear my head, as is the heady aroma of the tea.
Around the back of the row of tents, I pass one and see Aldus is inside, speaking with a few people around a table. Wanting to know what they are talking about, I go in with the pretense of asking if they’d like some farro-fan tea.
I recognize Colm, the large man with the white hair at his temples, who had been speaking with Magdalena earlier. The Head Hunter, Bohan, is there with a sour look on his wide face. A stern-looking woman with a pinched expression, her hair up in a tight bun, is sitting beside Colm.
“I don’t want to tell people we have run out of food,” Aldus is saying. “Do you?”
The occupants of the table stop talking and turn to me when I enter the tent.
“Run out of food?” I ask innocently.
Colm sighs and says, “No. Far from it.”
I stand there with the tray of steaming mugs.
“Tarin, lad,” Aldus says. “We were just making plans to send hunters out. We are indeed going to be low on meat.”
The muscled Bohan hisses at him. “Why are you telling this outsider our affairs?”
Aldus absently scratches at his beard. “Tarin is our guest, who saved many people in the attack. He can be trusted.”
I’m not sure I believe that’s why he’s telling me these things, but I appreciate the gesture, anyway .
“We have plenty of meat,” the woman beside Colm says, her accent thick and clipped. “But, yes, we can do with more.”
Aldus gestures to a nearby stool. “Take a seat while you’re here. I’ll take some farro-fan from you. It smells intoxicating.”
I place the tray down and take a mug for myself as I sit on the stool, keeping some distance between me and the table.
“Colm and his wife Deena look after our food supplies,” Aldus says to me. “We’ve recently discovered that the bandits had taken several animal carcasses with them during their raid the other night. That has set us back a few weeks of food, and so we’re having to arrange a hunt.”
Colm shakes his head, showing a flash of frustration. “I’ve been telling you we need to send people out to find a farm with chickens.” He turns to me and adds, “We’ve been at a loss since the Wildmen killed the last of our chickens a few years ago.”
“I miss eggs,” his wife mutters with a forlorn look.
“Joven Tektas said he thought he saw a boar a few days ago out in the northern plains,” Colm tells them. “By the foothills of the Shadowstand Mountains.”
“That area is known for several varieties of birds, also,” Aldus says.
“I can take a few men and search the area,” Bohan says.
They’ve forgotten I’m there, but I speak up to say, “May I go along? I’ve been meaning to stretch my legs more to test my strength, and I’d like to be helpful if I can. To thank you for your hospitality. ”
Bohan sneers fiercely at me, as if I’ve just insulted his mother. “We need no help from you, outsider.”
“I think that’s a good idea,” Aldus says. He has a quiet commanding air about him, and doesn’t need to raise his voice or force attention on himself. “I’m sure we could use the expertise of an Oathland’s soldier.”
Bohan scoffs. “Then you use his expertise here. We do not need him on a hunt.”
“If I go on the hunt with you,” I say coolly, not matching his hot tone, “I promise I will leave this village on my return. If I am capable of doing so.”
Bohan scrutinizes me. He casts a look at Aldus and Colm before shaking his head and finally agreeing. He downs a mug of the farro-fan tea in one go, despite it being steaming hot. I don’t show how impressed I am by that.
“I think Freddick should go, also,” Colm says.
“He has not been on a hunt beyond our village borders yet,” Aldus says.
I watch the two of them with some interest.
“The boy has been a wreck with his father slain in the raid,” Colm says. “Going on his first proper hunt will help clear his mind. Give him something to focus on.”
“Good point,” Aldus says, and takes a sip of his tea.
“I want Zayne and Wills, too,” Bohan says. He has the grumpy air of a child desperately trying to get their way.
Aldus nods in agreement. “Very well. I trust you can prepare to leave within the hour?”
“We can,” Bohan says.
“Excellent,” Aldus says. “I have but one more stipulation. I want my Galene to go with you. ”
Bohan opens his mouth to object, but Aldus raises a hand to cut him off.
“Her Task with Tarin is technically not complete,” Aldus says. “I’d like her to go with you to continue watching over him. A hunt will help mature her. And, once you are back, that will be the end of her Task.”
“She will not like that,” I say.
Aldus grins at me. “She will not. But you leave her to me.”