Chapter 11

CHAPTER ELEVEN

All night, I kept waking up, listening for anything out of the ordinary. By dawn, I finally slipped into a restful slumber, sleeping hard until after sunrise. As I yawned and stretched, I saw that Fenling had already gotten up.

I pushed back the covers, shivering as the chill hit me. A peek outside told me we were still in the middle of the storm, but it had lessened, and I thought maybe we were coming out of it. I found my clothes on the bottom of my bed, clean. As I dressed, I realized that I was getting used to living with the Wolf People, and I felt like I was starting to fit in, just a little. Fenling was already closer to me than anybody back in Renmark except for Sanya, and even then, no one was judging Fenling for befriending me.

My stomach rumbled. The fight and adrenaline the night before had left me hungry. I entered the mess tent and saw Zahner and Fenling at the main table. They had saved a place for me. Quen's seat was empty.

I sat down, accepting a plate from one of the serving women. "How's Quen this morning? Did he…" I wanted to ask if he was alive, but it sounded so final.

"He's alive, thanks to you. He'll heal up, but the puncture was deep. The healer is staying with him until she knows it's not infected. But it looks like he'll be back in action in a few days." Bran stood up and held up his tankard. "Attention, please."

Everyone in the tent stopped talking and looked at him expectantly.

"I want everyone to know that last night our guest—Asajia—saved Quen's life. She's earned her right to stay with us, if she chooses. Asajia, you always have a place here with the Lorani."

Everyone lifted their drinks—a few lifted their forks—and toasted me.

I hadn't expected that, and I blushed, but it felt good. For the first time in years, I felt welcome in a community. Here, I wasn't judged by the actions of my father. Here, I mattered, and somehow, I had carved out a niche for me in a group of strangers.

I stood as they clapped and pounded the tables, whistling. I quickly realized they were waiting for me to say something.

As the whistling quieted down, I said, "Thank you. I wasn't sure what to think when Bran brought me here, but he saved my life and for that I'm more grateful than I can express. That you accept me into your midst is a gift I needed right now. Life has been difficult the past few years, and I didn't actually expect to survive once I left my village. I just knew that I couldn't face the life that was stretching out in front of me. So, thank you for being so generous with your friendship and acceptance."

I sat down amid the sounds of dishes clinking and the savory aroma of beef and bread and melting cheese, and freshly baked pies filled with apples and cinnamon. For the first time in a long, long time I felt a sense of belonging that touched me to the core.

"I want to stay," I said. "I want to stay with your people." Thoughts of traveling to the south had receded. I wasn't cut out for warmer weather. I might not be one of the Wolf People, but I was born to the snows and the cold climes and the mountains and forests. I was a hunter, and I wasn't in my element in the temperate zones.

"Once Quen has recovered, we'll hold a ceremony to welcome you into the Pack. Fenling can talk you through what's expected, and then you'll have time to make certain that this is what you want," Bran said. He leaned closer. "I hope you still want to make your home with us. I really do."

Fenling gave me a quiet smile, and she looked content. "One thing—once you take the oath of our people, you cannot break it. We bind ourselves for life. Though given you aren't wolfen by nature, the bond might not be the same. But we can discuss that as time goes along."

I filled my plate, nodding. "To be honest, when you've been an outcast for awhile, belonging and being welcome aren't things you take for granted. Ever since my father killed the bear, our family was on the outside of everything. I lost all my friends except one, our family lost its standing, and my father blamed everyone but himself."

"I can imagine," Fenling said. She turned to her cousin. "So, what was in the letter the messenger brought you from Karehl? We never got a chance to discuss it."

"He's ordered us back to Eleago as soon as the Snow Witch's storm passes." He turned to me. "Eleago is our castle. Karehl is my brother, the prince."

"I was curious about that," I said. "If he's a prince, aren't you, as well?"

"Technically, but I'm the younger brother and he was heir to the throne. Our father died a few years back, but Karehl can't ascend to the throne as king until the stars align correctly. That's not for another year. So he's kept me out in the fields to stave off the chance I might try to assassinate him." Bran snorted.

"Would you prefer to be king?" I asked, curious.

"Not really, though I'd accept the crown if need be. I would never dishonor my father by turning my back on our legacy. But Karehl is paranoid, and he has no need to be—at least not toward me. I may not like my brother much, but I support him." Bran stood. "Time to be about the day. Asajia, why don't you rest? You deserve it."

"I didn't do anything anybody else wouldn't have," I said.

"You'd be surprised," Fenling said. "Not everyone would risk their lives to rescue someone from the battlefield. Quen will forever be beholden to you—he's conscious this morning and he asked about you."

I smiled. "Quen seems a pleasant sort. How could I leave him to bleed out?" I stood and stretched. "If I'm to have the morning off, I'll go sleep some more. When I really think about it, I'm worn out. I didn't realize the toll running off like that would take on me. I could use the extra rest."

Fenling walked me out. As she did, a thought occurred to me.

"Where's the scout? The one who was trying to drag me back to Renmark?"

She gave me a keen look. "Do you really want to know? Just know that he won't be a bother to you again." Her voice had an edge to it that I couldn't quite place. But it left me uneasy.

"No, I suppose not," I said. As I made my way back to my tent, I tried not to think about it.

Two days later, Quen was on his feet again, and everyone began to break down the camp. The storm had passed, and we were facing snow that was a good calf-deep in the depths of the forest.

"Won't we be coming back here?" I asked as Fenling and I folded all the blankets, stuffing them in large canvas bags. She showed me how to fold the cots we'd been sleeping on, and then, we took down the tent and folded the hides as well as we could.

"Maybe, but we might be sent to another area, so we always take everything when it's time to move. Okay, leave it all. The men will be by to pack it on the sledges and carts. You'll have your horse, so we don't need to provide you with one," she added. "We ride at midmorning."

As Bran brought Yaran to me, he seemed pensive. First, though, he handed me my weapons back. My bow and arrows, short sword, and dagger.

"Thank you," I said. "Is everything all right?" Over the past couple days we had talked more, and I found myself wanting to spend more time with him. I felt safe around him, and he treated me like I mattered. He was cocky, but not arrogant, with an overall good nature, and his men followed him out of loyalty, not fear.

"I'm not looking forward to returning to Eleago, to be honest. I support my brother out of loyalty, but I'm not a fan. Nor do I like his wife." He caught my gaze. "I trust you to keep that tidbit of gossip to yourself," he added.

"Of course," I said. "It's none of my business. You saved my life, and have been nothing but kind to me. I wouldn't throw you under the carriage wheels." I paused, then asked, "What do you think he wants?"

"I don't know, and that's what worries me. We've been out on the road for over six months. Unless something has happened back in the kingdom…there's no reason for us to return to the castle. Which leads to the question, what's happened?"

"Do you have enemies? The Wolf People?" I settled myself into the saddle, patting Yaran on the side of his head. "This is Yaran, by the way. He's been with me since my father bought him seven years ago. He's my hunting steed."

"He's a fine horse, and he seems well-tempered. As to enemies, we have our share, but they usually stay in the mountains. If they've traveled down to the Bramble Fel Forest, then your village is in danger too. The ice giants are our main foes."

I shivered. The ice giants were dangerous, though I had always thought they were a solitary folk. "Well, let's hope it's not them."

"Truth. All right, we ride. We'll stop during the early evening to bivouac, then continue tomorrow morning. In two nights, we'll reach the castle walls." He headed toward his horse. "Onward, men!" he called, taking the lead.

The ride was long and cold, but each night we camped with hot food, and roaring fires. The Wolf People spread tarps on the ground and we slept in thick mounds of blankets and furs, huddling together.

By afternoon the third day, we came out of the Bramble Fel Forest to see a castle ahead, on a high plateau overlooking the valley below. To our left, the forest gave way to rocky terrain. To the right, it continued, spreading out as far as I could see. Above the castle, reaching high into the sky, were more craggy peaks, covered in perpetual snows. We were almost at the Eiralpine Line, where winter ruled year round.

The castle stood, large and gleaming, the afternoon light reflected off the snow onto the stone, giving it a silvery look. I hadn't expected an actual castle, I'd expected more of a village built around a mansion. This took me aback.

"It's a real castle," I said.

"Yes, that it is." Fenling was riding at my side. She glanced at me. "What did you expect?"

"More of…a village surrounding a court hall, or something like that. I guess I thought the Wolf People would live more…" I wasn't sure what I was trying to say, except I knew I didn't want to offend anyone.

"You thought we'd be more…rural? A little more in the woods?"

I nodded. "I guess I don't really know much about your people," I added.

"We're generally misunderstood," she made a tsking sound and her horse began to move ahead. "Come, we ride in by Bran's side. Family always goes first, since we're the nobles."

I felt odd, riding past the line of others, who had stopped to wait. We fell in behind Bran, and then his immediate guards came after us. As we rode along the path winding up the mountain toward the castle entrance, I wondered what was going to happen next.