Fen didn’t really mind any of the tasks, but about the time the oil lamps were lit—Peari had done it this time, with Ati glowering at them—Fen’s hands developed a tremor. Small at first, then harder to ignore. Ati eventually noticed and barked at Fen to be careful with himself. Fen ended up next to Peari on the other bed, sitting down as he ground bits of bark into powder.
After a while of that, Dol appeared in the tent. Without a single word to Ati, he looped an arm around Fen and walked him out of the tent to sit him down in front of the fire. Fen was fed, again, though without an audience since Dol went to Ati’s tent to finish Fen’s work for him. Before Fen could wonder what to do next, or to find a cook and make sure Lan had eaten since Fen hadn’t had a chance to check, Maril appeared to smilingly steer him toward Lan’s tent.
Fen meant to argue, but the sky was dark and he was strangely tired for someone who had done little more than stand all day, so he collapsed onto his furs at the side of Lan’s bed and knew no more.
A braided leather cord on the pillow next to him was Fen’s first sight upon waking. It was not a long length of cord, too short for anything practical he could think of. But the braiding was tight and prettily done. Fen stared at it as he sat up, and left it untouched while he tried to straighten out the clothes he’d slept in.
His clothes were… not his own, he realized a day after first putting them on. They weren’t Lan’s either, although the shirt was too big for Fen. Fen had rolled up the sleeves the day before without taking any notice. The bed he was in was Lan’s, which Fen was certain he had not been in when he’d gone to sleep the night before.
He scrubbed a rough cheek, painfully aware that he was blushing, but hoped that would fade after he went to the stream to wash and shave. He combed his hair at least, and neatened the bed he had somehow taken over, ending with another long look at the braided leather on the pillow.
Except for one of the dogs, no one followed him this morning to make sure he was well. Fen had no idea if the hunter’s hound had been sent to do that or was merely curious and friendly, but he petted it by the side of the stream until his rumbling stomach sent him back to the camp, the dog following for a while before heading off in another direction.
The sun had risen. He would see if Ati needed him or if he was needed elsewhere today. He had no other plans, but his steps slowed as he came to the fire where Lan and his family were seated and lingering over their breakfast as they almost never did.
Fen hooked his fingers into the leather cord wrapped tightly around his wrist as he had assumed it was meant to be. Lan’s eyes met his across the distance.
“Fen!” Dol called, seated not far from the rest of them. “Would you believe in our search for herbs for you yesterday, we stumbled upon chestnut trees ready to harvest? Come eat!”
Fen could believe it, though he did think about objecting and saying the herbs had not been for him. But it took some time for him to move his gaze to Dol, and then to Race, smirking next to his husband, and then to approach them. Before he could sit, Tellan sprang to her feet.
“Here you go,” she said, almost too loudly, smiling even more wickedly than Race. “Plenty of work to be done, but there’s time for a moment of quiet first, too.”
“That’s what it’s all about it, isn’t it?” Race asked, not seeming to expect an answer, although Dol whispered one into his ear that seemed to please him.
Fen sat carefully in Tellan’s abandoned space next to Lan, observing Lan without raising his head. Lan pulled a chestnut from a cloth bundle of them and peeled away the shell before handing the meat to Fen. It was still warm. So was the next one.
Maril got out a comb to deal with his older child’s hair, who sat in front of him after much wriggling. Fen passed her one of the chestnuts and heard Lan cluck his tongue though not outright object. He simply gave Fen another one, as if they were a more suitable breakfast than porridge.
In all honesty, Fen was a bit tired of plain porridge, so he made no objections either. Race got up to get himself some tea and brought some for Fen as well, which was a pleasant surprise. Fen thanked him as he still hadn’t thanked Lan, and drank his tea expecting Lan to be called away at any moment.
His people did find him. That was only natural. They gathered around the fire too, and some of Lan’s family went off for other duties. Tellan returned, sitting on Fen’s other side to discuss more of what Ati might need, and to lean over Fen to ask Lan about what The Maben’s holding’s stores held. Fen offered to move out of their way. Lan put a hand on his arm and Fen went silent.
Lan turned toward his friends and advisors, head cocked as he listened to what they had to tell him. His fingers circled Fen’s wrist easily. He pushed his thumb beneath the braided leather and swept it back and forth several times before leaving it there.
Warmth slipped down Fen’s spine and spread out into his limbs. He shifted to let his shoulder brush Lan’s side, and knew it was noticed by the others in how their words briefly faltered. But Lan’s thumb stayed where he wanted it, so Fen didn’t move away.
He should have paid more attention to what information was being discussed, but did note some of it: more about what had happened with Peari’s people, and one or two remarks that indicated the camp would be breaking soon and they would all be on their way to somewhere new. Where, no one said, and Fen didn’t ask, but wondered if a few were going to slip away to reach the territory that had once been The Maben’s to gather supplies, or perhaps the rest of their forces.
He had said something to Lan about that the other night, though Fen’s memory of those moments was like smoke. But he thought of the bodies held together because of Ati’s hard work and how they would have to be watched carefully to ensure theystayedtogether, and how many more such bodies a battle would create.
Lan would have already thought of them. Lan thought of many things, more than Fen managed although he teased Fen for all his plots. Lan listened, and walked, and worried. And wanted. And waited.
He paid attention to songs and stories though he might not seem to. He had known the Flower-of-the-North, title and all, which meant he’d known who Fen was almost immediately. Then he’d saidEarl’s cubalthough he had knownwhichEarl’s cub and even Fen’s name. Lan gathered information and used it well.
Lan must appreciate what it meant to have songs sung in his favor, as many songs already were—although not the ones played where most Earls could hear. He would know that to the nobles, striking out at The Maben could be portrayed as justified if Lan shared their history. So could the second incident, since that Earl had come after him and Lan could say he had been defending himself.
A third time would be different.
If Lan wanted more nobles to leave him be, if not take his side, then he would not be able to strike first. Not unless his reason for doing so was unassailable. Going after another Earl without any such reason was a declaration that he could go afteranyEarl, and no matter their previous grievances, they would respond to that threat as close to a united front as they would ever be.
Whatever happened next, everyone would watch and judge. That meant an Earl would have to attack Lan on their own, which remained a possibility as long as Lan roamed free and couldn’t be predicted. But Lan couldn’t do that forever, either. So something else would need to happen, something Lan was undoubtedly already considering.
Maybe he would let an Earl predict him, or think they had. He might even want a specific Earl to come after him.
It was very likely a Northern Earl Lan had his eye on, and not one of the kinder, more reasonable figures. This Earl would have to be provoked and they would have to be easily made the enemy in any songs about the matter.
Capturing the Flower-of-the-North might provoke a specific Earl. Many things might do that, but rousing the Old Horror could be useful. No one liked The Acana, and if Lan’s people were very, very clever and resourceful, they could take him and subdue many of his allies at the same time, through words or other means.
