Page 36 of Weaving Winter

“It was obvious from the first day that both of you took a shine to the other. I reassure you, you’re not the only one who feels this way. Your feelings are returned. Bran and I talk, a lot.” He seemed to be searching for a way of saying something without actually saying it. “Sometimes, you just meet someone and know that they’re the right match for you.”

Ducking my head, I handed him another handful of sticks. “I’ve never been in love before. I don’t even know if I know what it feels like.” I glanced over as Tonyah, Sparrow, and Starson appeared. They were carrying armfuls of dried logs.

“We found a cache of wood!” Tonyah said. “I never knew this was a thing.”

“That’s common in the forest near my home,” I said. “Hunters will leave stashes of wood in protected areas. It’s considered part of the honor code. Leave wood and kindling if you have extra, use it if you’re in need. My father survived several sudden storms when he was hunting, because other hunters had left caches of wood and rations in the forest.”

“We’ll bring some back to the area when we can,” Quen said. “Hand me several of the logs, please?”

Within minutes, the fire was crackling. The snow had slowed, and the sun was creeping through the clouds, shedding rays here and there to reflect off the snow. I picked up my bow and quiver, and wandered to the outskirts of the camp. We could stretch out our supplies if I could catch some fresh meat.

As I was scouting the clearing, I caught sight of a large wild turkey. It was big enough to feed the company. I slowly skirted the area to where I could get a better aim. The turkey was standing still, staring at a patch of wild grass sticking through the snow. I brought my bow up, aiming the arrow toward the crosshatch between a line just under the beard, and a line up from one of the legs. The arrow flew true, and the turkey went down. I waded through the snow over to the body, and picked it up by the neck. It was still spasming, but my shot had brought it down with a minimum of mess, and I dragged it back to camp.

We weren’t erecting the tents, yet—in fact, we had few of our supplies, so we couldn’t do much. The Lorani had to leave most of the gear behind when they snuck out. It was a wonder the riders had managed to bring anything but themselves.

“Lunch, anyone?” I held up the massive bird. It had to weigh a good twenty pounds.

Quen grinned. “So you did. That will make a tasty meal.”

Tonyah held out her arms. “I can clean it for you, Mistress.”

“Call me Asajia, please,” I said, handing her the bird. “And thank you.”

Sparrow held it over the fire to singe the feathers, then he and Tonyah carried it away from the fire to pluck and butcher.

“Good shot,” Quen said.

“I’m a good hunter,” I answered. “My father was the best in our village. I learned from him.” I sat on a log near the fire. “Tell me, where are we going? We don’t have tents, so what will we do for shelter?”

Fenling, who had been searching under clumps of snow for something edible, joined us. She handed Quen a handful of herbs. “These will help make the bird tender. Stick them inside the cavity before it goes on the spit.” She settled down next to me. “I think we need to talk to this Giselda. If she’s a witch woman, she might be able to help us. We can’t go far until we know if Bran managed to escape.”

“San will have to work quickly,” Quen said. “Once they know half of the Lorani are gone, they’ll tighten up security. I warned him—move as fast as he can.”

“I dread thinking of what the prince is like right now. And his wife—she’s ruthless.” Fenling glanced around the area. “When Sparrow returns, we’ll ask him how far we are from Giselda’s house. That appears to be our best bet.”

At that moment, Sparrow and Tonyah appeared, carrying the turkey which was trussed on an iron spit. Quen and Sparrow rigged up a holder for the iron bar, and the turkey was set to cook, with Tonyah turning it manually every few minutes. Sparrow drew a map in the snow, showing us the way to Giselda’s, and then we sat, huddled around the fire, waiting for the bird to cook.

As I stared into the flames, my mind wandered back to the castle, back to Bran, and I tried not to think about what would happen should San and the others not be able to help him escape.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

We were on the road again after we ate the turkey. A full belly of warm food left me tired, and I wanted nothing more than to take a nap. But the snow started again shortly after we were back in the saddle, and the cold sting of the flakes helped to keep me awake.

Sparrow had said we were less than a half-day’s travel from Giselda’s. I wondered what she’d think when we appeared on her doorstep. One weary traveler, or two or three? Maybe. But nearly thirty? That might be quite another matter. I didn’t hold much hope that she could help us, mostly because I didn’t want to be disappointed.

As the snow steadily drifted down, we continued on, but there was no sign that we were being followed. By early evening I could see a faint glow ahead. I pointed it out to Fenling and Quen, and Sparrow confirmed that it was Giselda’s house.

“We can’t ride in en masse,” I said. “I suggest Sparrow go ahead and talk to her, first.”

“I don’t want him going unprotected,” Fenling said. “Sparrow, would you mind if Asajia and I go with you?”

He shook his head. “Not at all. I think she’ll be fine with it. But remember, she’s a powerful witch woman. Don’t piss her off.”

Quen waited with the others as we pulled forward, riding into the clearing in which the cottage sat. It looked like it belonged in the woodland—reminding me of an overgrown mushroom with a rounded thatched roof and a tall, narrow build.

We dismounted and followed Sparrow to the door. He knocked, waited, then knocked again. After a moment, the door opened and a woman peeked out.

By the way Sparrow had described her, I expected to see an elderly woman with wrinkled features, hunched over, carrying a wand. Instead, a tall, voluptuous woman stood in front of us, her gown sweeping the floor with an apron tied over the top. Her hair was braided and coiled atop her head, and she gave us the once over, her eyes lighting up when she saw Sparrow.

---