Barb Hendee - Child of a Dead God

Osha turned to the sage. "Which house… is rule now?"

Over the past days, Wynn had interacted the most with Osha, and this began to concern Magiere.

"What?" Wynn said, rising from her own thoughts. "Umm… probably the antes, headed by Prince Rodek, but there is no telling who has power now-if anyone. News was scarce, and we have heard nothing since leaving Soladran to cross into the Elven Territories."

Magiere took the lead, watching all around as they moved on. If open fighting was still taking place, most would be farther north between Enemusk and Keonsk-the home of the antes house and the capital city.

Growing up as a peasant, she knew little of her homeland's history of internal struggles.

Divided among noble houses, each was headed by its own prince in a bloodline claimed to be noble. Most descended from peoples who'd migrated here or invaded this territory in the distant past. But all acknowledged the rule of the Grand Prince-or claimed to.

Every nine years the conclave of the noble houses chose a new leader. Seemingly more democratic than a monarchy, this practice had also led to civil war more than once. During Magiere's time in Venjetz, and then the elven forests, she'd learned how Most Aged Father had used the Anmaglahk to seed discord within human nations. Whether the Anmaglahk had had a hand in this recent war was beyond her guess. She wasn't even certain which houses were now vying for the throne.

"Keep your hood up," she told Osha.

He drew his brows together. His hood was up.

"Most people here have never seen an elf," Wynn explained.

Magiere still regretted letting that female anmaglahk run off. Osha had assured them that she would go directly to Most Aged Father over the failure of her "purpose." Magiere didn't understand what made him so certain. At this point, she had little choice but to hope he was right.

Dangling moss beards hung from the old trees thickening overhead, blotting out most of the sky. Even in spring, the air was chill and damp. Beneath the scents of wet loam and wild foliage lingered a thin odor of decay and rot. They traveled through this for most of the afternoon.

"Is that a dwelling?" Leesil said, and quickstepped up beside Magiere.

She had already seen it. "And there's another… a village, perhaps."

Magiere counted about twenty dwellings, something like a common house, and even what appeared to be a smithy with smoke rising from its scavenged-stone chimney. All of it looked surprisingly well maintained.

At the village's nearer edge, an old woman with two small children turned and saw them. Her expression grew cautious, but not openly frightened, and Magiere guessed that the fighting had not reached this far southeast.

"Hello," Leesil called in a lazy tone, and he smiled with a quick but exaggerated bow.

He could put people at ease no matter what he felt inside. Magiere sometimes wished she possessed such a talent.

The woman nervously half-turned and called into the smithy. "Cameron, you there?"

A barrel-chested bear of a man, with brown sweat-matted hair and a leather apron, stepped out, wiping his hands on a scrap of burlap.

"What now, Mother?"

Then he spotted the strangers. He quickly tossed the burlap back inside and stepped in front of the old woman and children. His gaze settled longest on Chap and Wynn, and his suspicion softened slightly. Osha wore his cloak loose with the hood up over his hair and ears, but he still looked far too tall.

"Can we purchase supper and a night in your common house?" Leesil asked.

At the word "purchase," Magiere set the bundled orb between her feet and swung her pack off to dig inside. It felt strange to take the purse out. How long since coin had been useful to them?

The enormous smith stepped a bit closer, still cautious.

"I am Cameron," he said. "This is Katrina, our village elder." He looked at them in surprise. "You came from the Everfen?"

"We're passing through on our way to Belaski," Leesil answered, sidestepping the question. "Can you offer a roof for the night?"

"We can pay," Magiere added, pouch in hand.

Coin wasn't common here, but was still useful for taxes or purchases in the larger cities. Magiere frowned. They had some silver among their gold, but little of it was in small coin. No pennies or groats, and even shils were a bit flashy in these backwoods.

"Come with me," Cameron said and turned down the path.

As they followed, Magiere noticed Osha hanging back, and she realized this was his first time in a human settlement. Hopefully Wynn would keep an eye on him, but the large smithy didn't seem to give much notice. With the sage's knack for languages, she'd picked up some Droevinkan, but Osha spoke none at all.

Katrina reached the door first and opened it, shooing off more children who'd gathered at the sight of strangers-most especially to see the large silver-gray dog.

"Off with you all. Go on home!" she said, then stepped inside, waving for the guests to follow. "Not many pass this way, but I can find some oat-cakes and goat cheese."

"That would be fine," Magiere answered. "Thank you."

Chap trotted around, sniffing the floor. The place was dry, and a decent mud and stone hearth rested in the back wall. Three rough-cut tables accompanied by stools filled the room.

"We heard talk of fighting," Wynn blurted out. "Is it safe to pass through?"

Abrupt as this was, Magiere watched Cameron, eager for his answer.

"No fighting here," the smithy said in his baritone voice. "But we hear things… it is bad north of here, near the capital… and has been for a long while."

"What have you heard?" Magiere asked.

"Bits and pieces, whenever our own go elsewhere for trade. The Varanj accused the antes of murdering one of their barons. They demanded restitution, as well as the surrender of those involved. Prince Rodek denied knowledge of it. Rumors claim his brother accused the Varanj of carrying out the deed themselves. Fighting broke out inside the walls of Keonsk, the capital. After that, we all kept out of the way. We heard hundreds died the first day, not all of them soldiers. The last I heard, the Varanj had laid siege to Enemusk."

"What about Chemestuk?" Magiere asked.

Cameron frowned. "I think I've heard of it. To the north, across the Vudrask River, yes? I've never traveled that far. No one here has."

"I have family there," Magiere said, fighting to remain calm and steady. "Have you heard anything at all?"

The big smith shook his head. "If it's where I think, then it's well within war's reach. Anyone with wits would've run long ago or ended up dead… or conscripted."

Magiere's first instinct was to bolt and keep running, to reach the capital and grab any barge or boat headed for her village. Anything, at any cost, to make certain that Aunt Bieja had gotten out alive.

Leesil grabbed her hand. When she turned, her gaze landed on Wynn.

The little sage leaned tiredly against Osha's side.

"What about a safe route?" Leesil asked. "We just need to get through to Belaski."

"Head west," Cameron counseled. "Don't veer north for at least six days. The forest is thick and the roads are bad, but I doubt any house will have soldiers that far out. It's mostly minor houses out there, and they can't afford to be dragged in between the major princes."

Magiere breathed deeply. Common sense quelled some of her fear. Aunt Bieja could be in Miiska already, long gone in the past season-Magiere had to believe that.

Osha reached his arm around Wynn.

Magiere did not begrudge either of them a companion's comfort. Far from it, but she worried about something Brot'an had once told her. She had to speak with Wynn at the first opportunity.

"I'll go find that cheese for you," Katrina said and slipped out.