Page 21 of Fate's Bane
I jerked out of my reverie to find that I was standing, my wool blanket hanging limply from one shoulder. This must not have been the first time he had called my name. I drew the blanket back around both shoulders and pulled my focus away from the Baneswood.
The large man stared into my eyes, looking me up and down. “What did you see, little frog?”
“Nothing.” I turned back to the woods. They were dark, forbidding, but they were only trees. The dog-whistle call that tightened my heart was gone, like the broken thread of a spider’s web.
He narrowed his eyes at me and guided me back to the fire.
“I’ll finish my watch,” I protested, but he ignored me and nudged Solwin awake with his boot.
“Watch,” he grunted.
Solwin looked to me, then to the sky above, still dark and star-speckled.
“It’s not my turn yet.” She slumped back beneath her blanket and covered her head.
“I can—” I started.
Dhorfnir jostled Solwin harder. “Watch!”
“Hie!” she yelped and jumped up with her blankets, near rolling into the fire. She scowled at the two of us as she stood. There was hint of question in her eye, but she kept it to herself and stomped away.
I took her bedroll and stole comfort from the warmth she’d left behind. I felt eyes on me even in my dreams—Dhorfnir’s or another’s, I couldn’t say.
He didn’t let me take another watch alone.
Clan Hanarin was situated on a small island in the middle of the wetlands at the head of a rivulet. They werea small clan, and their holdings smaller even than Clan Fein’s, though their land was better. They welcomed us with warm drinks, and we presented Erci Clan Hanarin with the jerkin I’d made. The chieftain eyed me carefully after my introduction as Agnir First-Born Garadin Clan Fein. She studied the jerkin with pursed lips, testing the thickness with her calloused thumbs. She and Dhorfnir stared in wordless exchange, but that was clearly not enough, because Erci took Dhorfnir aside. I stared after them until Solwin prodded me roughly, nodding toward the donkey and the clan members waiting to do business with us.
My leatherwork sold well, though I gave the bartering no more than half a mind. I saw this journey with new eyes. The jerkin I had made—it was not a gift for the sake of its fineness, as I had obliviously thought. It was armor. A gift for battle. Dhorfnir was here to recruit Erci Clan Hanarin to my father’s side against Clan Aradoc, to tell her of Pedhri Clan Aradoc’s intent to parcel the Fens away—which I had relayed to him.
I tried to soothe the thought. Fein-Father said they would discuss it at the clan moot. There need not be fighting if Garadin Clan Fein could unite enough of the clans, or if Pedhri Clan Aradoc saw sense. Unease set my stomach to a low boil.
I suddenly missed Making with Hadhnri, and not, for once, because I missed feeling close to her. I missed our Makings because she had been right: when we Madethings, I felt as if I had the power to change the world. To bend it, even a little, to my will. I stared at the belts draped over my knees, tracing with my eyes the dancing trout I had worked. I longed for that feeling again. I clenched my fingers tight so that my nails dug into my palm.
I would not call the fates-bane’s eye upon me again.
“Are you well, Agnir?” Solwin peered into my face with suspicious concern.
“Fine,” I snapped.
Her face flushed red. She turned back to her buckles and tools and to the man of Clan Hanarin admiring her silverwork. She was a fine smith, and a fine woman, just the kind I favored, as Hadhnri would put it. More importantly, she was a friend, whatever else had gone between us.
“I’m sorry,” I mumbled after the man had gone to fetch whatever Solwin wanted in trade. “All this talk of Clan Aradoc. It makes me uneasy to think of war between the clans.”
Solwin eyed me from the side. I waited for her to question my loyalty to Clan Fein.
Instead, she asked, looking down at her silver and iron, “Why did Dhorfnir take you off watch?”
The question caught me off guard. With no need to feign the embarrassment warming my face, I stumbled, “He—um. Caught me sleeping. Said he’d tell my father.” A damning lie, but it was better than the cursed truth,that the Baneswood had called to me and I longed to answer.
Solwin raised a skeptical eyebrow and grunted.
After that, our conversation came in drought-trickles. Dhorfnir also grew odd with me. On our journey back to Clan Fein, he stayed close to me, as if I were a sheep and he my shepherd. I would have been annoyed if the Baneswood weren’t calling out to me again, stronger this time. I kept drifting unconsciously from the path, and each time he urged me back with a gentle nudge, or a word to pull my attention. His heavy brow was furrowed with concern.
Once, he had to yank me back, nearly jerking my shoulder out of its socket.
“Into the water, is it, little frog?” he laughed.
I looked to my footing. I was one step from falling into the bog.
