“He’s trying to be helpful,” Heni commented as Fen trailed after Race.
“He’s welcome to—but keep him from anything important,” Lan answered.
Fen didn’t turn back to show that he’d heard.
Fen’s day from shortly after dawn until nearly sunset was spent walking several paces behind the horse carrying Dol. Dol must have grown bored quickly because he talked with Fen when no one else would. Fen imagined very few in the camp had any interest in talking to any Earl’s child, and even if they had, Fen had shown up in their camp with his hands tied, which did not indicate he was a trusted guest.
At best, he got in their way even when he tried not to. But Ati seemed to think Fen would do as a helper for Dol, and Fen was glad to do it. Although Dol had strange questions, far too interested in what he imagined life was like in The Acana’s holding.
“I try to stay out the way,” Fen had told him that at least three times. “I use my needle in my room or in the orchard if the weather is good.” And, “I assist my mother with her loom when she is in the mood to deal with me.” Or, “The Acana did not think me clever enough to sit in on his crucial meetings.” Dol also wanted to know more of noble marriages, about which Fen had sorry answers. “I only know of alliances, and the alliance with The Geon was the first serious one ever considered for me. But I have only been of age for a year.”
“Only a year.” Dol had clucked his tongue at that. “And known so little joy before being sent off for your marriage.”
“Alliance,” Fen had corrected, also for at least the third time. He started to wonder if Dol was deliberately failing to understand in order to make Fen repeat himself, perhaps hoping to catch Fen in a lie. Fen had nothing to lie about. His life was dull compared to Dol’s, who had been a baker and then a guard and was now a scout and soldier for the Wild Dog.
If Dol was worried about the Dog’s fate, and through that, his own, Fen saw no sign of it. Dol also didn’t speak of it. Neither did he speak of Race, although he did mention the fae several times, which Fen had been taught not to do.
At no point did anyone seek to blindfold Fen again, which was just as well, since he was barely certain what direction they were traveling in. He would have said west, toward the foothills and then the mountains, but then the sky grew cloudy and he could no longer tell.
He shivered, and walked, and eventually even Dol grew tired or weary with pain and all conversation ceased.
He glimpsed familiar faces once or twice: Heni appearing from a line of trees where she must have been keeping watch ahead of them, that Tial soldier. Ati came up to them once to pour a tincture into a cup of water and order Dol to drink it. Fen did not see Lan and wondered if he was off keeping watch too, although he didn’t ask Dol or Ati, since he doubted he would get an answer.
He walked until they stopped for the night. Then he helped Dol down and into Ati’s tent once again, went to gather kindling as instructed, and ate more stew before he could find himself scolded. He was ravenous anyway, and grateful for what warmth the stew could give him.
He found a sleeping place away from most of the others, though far from the fire, and curled up as animal might to try to keep the cold air from slipping through the hole in his pants. He felt worn to the bone, his shivers keeping him awake no matter what he tried, until eventually his exhaustion must have won, because he woke at dawn once again.
A cloak covered him, likely the only reason he had managed any sleep. The wool was rough spun but more tightly woven than some cloth he had seen in the camp. Not a noble’s cloak, but Fen was deeply grateful for it and smiled at Race and Heni when he saw them.
No one asked for the cloak back, so Fen wore it over his thinner short cloak as he walked with Dol and resisted asking questions about how Dol had met Lan or the others, or about whatever Dol knew about the Wild Dog’s origins. Knowing what Lan had been after when he’d turned on The Maben might let Fen determine how best to help him in the future, but he still wasn’t sure that Dol wasn’t relaying their conversations to Lan as nearly anyone in The Acana’s household would have with a stranger in the holding.
Instead, the two of them traded what fantastical stories they knew, although Fen was not much of a storyteller and Dol had started to frown whenever the fae came up in a tale, even his own. Race had not visited Dol since his injury. Fen assumed that was related to Dol’s unhappiness, but didn’t press that matter either. The private relations between The Acana’s many alliances in the holding had often become contentious. Fen had learned to keep his questions and thoughts about such things to himself.
Ati found a patch of kennafern in the shade of an ancient tree and beckoned Fen over to help him gather it, then gave Fen a lesson on mushrooms that Fen did his best to remember. That night, once his tent was raised, Ati kept Fen with him for a while, saying Fen had quick hands and setting him to work bundling the kennafern to hang from Ati’s traveling cart to dry.
The plant had a sharp, tangy smell that lingered, but wasn’t awful. Fen washed up once he was done and returned to the tent at a restless Dol’s request to be instructed on how to throw bones. They didn’t bet because Fen had nothing to lose but a cloak that wasn’t his.
When Ati finally insisted the patient needed to rest, Fen went outside to eat and then curl up on a pile of leaves. From there, he could unobtrusively watch Lan settle around the fire to eat his share of the evening meal as he said he did, after all the others had had at least one share.
There might be Earls who would have done the same, but Fen couldn’t name any.
Five
The following days were much the same as that one, except that Fen found it harder to sleep despite his weariness. Theywereslowly making their way up toward the foothills, and the woods grew thicker and darker. Either factor might have been the reason that Fen felt the cold even during the days now, although the walking helped.
He learned that the others slipped away from the main group in shifts to scout ahead and to keep an eye out for anyone else who might be in the woods. The group stopped once, everyone waiting in the middle of a tangled forest for reasons no one explained to Fen, but he assumed to remain unseen and unheard while others passed by somewhere near.
After three days, another group joined theirs. Both groups were small, but together were nearly more than The Geon’s available guards and soldiers and family members fit to fight. If there were more such groups loyal to him out there, the Wild Dog had a force the Earls could only guess at.
Fen was guessing as well, wondering why they were heading up to the foothills and possibly to the mountains. Or if they were going to travel over the hills before descending into some other Earl’s territory. Maybe the lands of the Lylanth had been their destination all along and not letting Fen find his way there just to stumble upon a battle had been an act of mercy.
That did not explain what the other group had been doing in the woods before joining them, but maybe traveling in smaller groups was better for staying unseen.
The newcomers seemed to have questions about Fen in the same way, occasionally watching him with interest but largely leaving him alone except to recognize that he ran errands for Ati and Dol, and occasionally Race or Heni.
Lan did not speak with him again. Fen did not even see him, except for a glimpse in the evenings if Fen kept his head down and his eyes open so that the Wild Dog did not know he was observed. Somehow, Fen knew that if he sat at the fire and waited for Lan to approach, Lan would not. He didn’t know what to make of that. He didn’t expect Lan to trust him, but Fen could not honor their tentative alliance if they didn’t at leastspeak.
Dol told him not to take it personally, although Fen hadn’t mentioned the issue to him. “He wants to trust you or you wouldn’t be here. Keep on being you, but be patient.”
