Brian Rathbone - The Dawning of Power

Only the luxury of the steaming tub could pull her thoughts away, and she eased into the water, which soon turned black with mud and soot. Despite her efforts, her skin would not come completely clean, and she settled for mostly clean. As the water began to grow cool, Catrin emerged from the tub, and she toweled off her raised flesh. Collette had left fresh clothes for her, and Catrin shook her head. She seemed to always find herself donning the clothes of others while a stranger washed her garments. She supposed she was growing accustomed to it, for it did not bother her as much as it had in the past. The loaned garments were overlarge and well worn, but they were clean, dry, and not uncomfortable.

An alluring aroma wafted into the room, causing her stomach to grumble, and Catrin was grateful when Collette handed her a bowl of broth. It was a light soup made of potato and onion, but it tasted delightful, and it warmed her soul as much as it did her belly.

"I wish we'd more t'share, m'dear, but times are hard," Collette said with a sad smile.

"It's wonderful, and I'm thankful for your generosity. I only hope I'll be able to repay you in some way."

"Nonsense. It's our duty t'help those in need, and you owe us nothing, but I appreciate the thought," she said as she brought Catrin a small loaf of bread. The crust was dark and hard, but the inside was light and airy, unlike the bread made on the Godfist. Catrin did not mention it for fear of revealing her ignorance. Perhaps this type of bread was common in the Greatland, and she did not want to raise any more suspicions.

Benjin and Rolph joined her in the common room, and Benjin looked much better after his bath. His clothes were strange, but they fit him well. Catrin rummaged through her pack and brought out some dried fruit and cheese that she shared with the rest.

"Good cheese," Rolph said with his mouth full, and Collette scolded him for his manners. A young boy came in meekly, refusing to meet Catrin's eyes. From his shamefaced look and the awkward walk of one with a sore bottom, Catrin guessed this was Jessub. When she offered him some dried fruit, he accepted it with tears in his eyes. Rolph gave him a steely glance, and Jessub raised his red eyes to hers.

"I'm sorry I peeked, Lady Elma," he said with a catch in his voice. He looked to be no more than seven summers, and Catrin could not be angry with him.

"It's a'right, Jessub, 'long as it doesn't happen again. Agreed?" she asked, the flush returning to her skin as all eyes rested on her.

"Yes, ma'am," he said, and he retreated from the stares. With a shove on the door, he was gone.

"Takes after you," Collette said with an accusing glance at Rolph.

"Don't glare at me, woman. I didn't peek. Though I can't say I blame the boy. Yer the prettiest thing to grace this house for some time," he said with a wink at Catrin, and she blushed anew. Benjin nearly choked on his bread, and mirth danced in his eyes, but he said nothing.

"Leave the poor girl alone, you wretched old man," Collette said, and she stood behind Catrin as if guarding her virtue.

"We can put you up in the barn fer a spell," Rolph said, ignoring his wife's glare. "It's not much, but it's dry and there's straw you can bed on. We've some blankets t'spare, so you won't freeze t'death."

"Elma can sleep in my room," came a high voice from outside, and Collette chased Jessub off with a broom.

"Off with you, you naughty child. You've caused enough trouble fer t'day."

"I thank you for your hospitality," Benjin said. "We should leave on the morrow and will not outstay our welcome. I've a brother in the south, and I hope to find work there, for my livelihood left with the fire and flood."

"Tough times fer all, these are. Come, I'll show you to the loft," Rolph said, and they followed him to the barn. All but two of the twenty stalls were empty, and those held swayback mares. At the far end of the barn, a ramp led to the loft, which was not a difficult climb, even for Benjin with his affected limp. Many of the bales were broken, and loose straw lay in mounds. Catrin tossed the blankets Rolph had given her over one mound, and she did what she could to form it into a comfortable bed. The crisp night air frosted their breath, but beneath the warm blankets, she and Benjin quickly dropped into sleep.

Looking out over the Falcon Isles and the seas beyond, Nat found himself in awe of creation. Blue skies harbored fluffy, white clouds, continually morphed by gentle breezes. Neenya stood at his side, tears streaming down her cheeks, seemingly overwhelmed by the beauty of nature. Slowly, Nat extended his hand until it brushed against her fingers. For a moment, he seemed frozen in time, waiting for her to respond. At first she seemed not to notice, but then a thrill ran through him as Neenya's fingers closed around his. In the next instant, her grip was all that kept him from tumbling over the ledge as his vision clouded and his knees would no longer support him.

Wrapped in a frilly dress, Catrin danced and spun. All around her, dangers lurked, like grisly thorns waiting to snag and entangle her. No reaction registered on her face, as if she were oblivious to the threats, and only sheer luck kept her safe. Slowly the vines encroached, surrounding her and constricting; still, Catrin danced.

Never before had the vision seized Nat so utterly and completely, and never before had the vision been so clear. "May the gods have mercy on her."

When the morning sun crept through gaps in the walls, Catrin rose to stretch her sore muscles. She and Benjin had slept later than they had in a long time and felt better for the rest. As they climbed down the ramp, Catrin saw a group of men, Rolph included, leaning against the fence. The men faced a large pasture that was occupied by a single, black colt. Catrin was shocked to see a bow at Rolph's side, and she moved in to investigate, Benjin hobbling along at her side. Their stomachs rumbled with hunger, but her curiosity won out over her appetite.

"Ho there, Rolph," Benjin said. "You don't mean to shoot that colt, now do you?"

"Aye, Cannergy. If we can't catch 'im any other way, I'll have to wound 'im. No one's been able to catch 'im so far, and his time's arunnin' short. He still wears his yearlin' halter, ya see, and if'n we don't get it off soon, he'll be ruined. The armies left us only three horses, and I need 'im for breeding. T'will be a blasted shame if I have to shoot 'im, but what else can I do?"

Catrin could not believe her ears, and she could sense Benjin's inner struggle. He could catch the colt, but it would reveal his deception, for he could not do it while faking his limp.

"May I try?" Catrin asked, and all eyes turned to her.

"She's good with animals," Benjin added.

"We've nothing to lose, lass. But don't get yerself hurt. He's a feisty colt, and you'd not be the first to be injured by 'im. T'be honest, I don't hold out much hope for it. No offense to yer skills, but in a field that big, it's dern near 'mpossible."

Catrin was not offended by his lack of faith, but she did not intend to chase the colt around the pasture; all that would do was wear her out.

"Have you a length of rope and some soft cloth?" she asked, and her question raised more than one eyebrow.

Obviously intrigued, Rolph nodded and went to retrieve the items for her. When he returned, he handed them to her with a curious look, but he did not ask what she would do. He and the others chose, instead, to simply watch in silence.

Catrin walked the fence, inspecting the posts. When she found one that did not wiggle when she pushed on it, she tied one end of the rope around its base. After a few tugs to ensure its stability, she tied a noose and stop-knot on the other end. The blanket she used to pad the noose, and she tested it by looping it over her own head several times. Once she was confident she could quickly secure it over the colt's head, she climbed through the slats of the fence.