Chapter 9
It was a solid week before Tenet saw another living soul in Ogden. He was out hammering lumber sides to the lean-to, trying to create a proper shelter for the horse they decided to keep for the winter. They sold his stubborn steed and kept Scarab's well trained mare when they determined any form of mechanical transport would be far too expensive for the first winter. Fratz argued that they should keep both animals, since there were two people that may need to get out fast, but Scarab knew they needed all the money they could get. In the end, Tenet settled it by pointing out that they could easily ride double on Scarab's large horse. His stubborn jerk of an animal was sold, and Tenet wasn't the least bit sad to see him go.
With the sale of the seeds, horse, and tent, they were able to buy enough supplies to require two trips to town and back to get it all home. To Tenet, it seemed like such a vast amount of food, clothing, and lamp oil that he thought they were more than ready for winter. Scarab knew better. They didn't get nearly as much as she'd hoped, especially of the food, and she decided to risk hunting and fishing. She made very sure to she was off Celtist land before she hunted. Even with permission to hunt and fish on the land, which she doubted they'd ever get, the options would be limited to animals not marked as special. She didn't need careful, considerate hunting. She needed fast and bountiful. After they spent two days with Fratz's help making certain the building was sound, she left a list of tasks for Tenet to do and she rode off to see what she could find to eat or sell.
Fratz left a couple days after Scarab, seeing that Tenet was remarkably capable at the repair work, and confident that the Celtists had decided to leave them alone. He had a long lonely trip ahead of him, and flakes were already in the air one morning. It warmed up since, but he knew that was the trap many fell into and winter would sneak up on him while he was stuck on the trail if he didn't hightail it. He left Tenet warmly, knowing that he'd made a friend and hoping the boy would live to meet him again.
Tenet's first day by himself was daunting. The house was quiet. The woods around him were quiet. The drying leaves, dark reds and golds and browns, fluttering in the chilly breeze were the only noises he heard through the open window. He got himself a small breakfast and looked across the table to the empty seat and missed his wife. He was glad for the list of chores he had to do. They'd take his mind off being alone.
One by one, he crossed things off the list. He cleared the weeds and vines. He climbed up on the roof of the lean-to in order to reach the thatched roof and patched the places Fratz pointed out with the new bundles of fresh thatch they got in town. The reeds were surprisingly strong and after only a few trips up, Tenet no longer feared that either he or snow would crash through. With the roof done, he repaired the frame of one window that was slightly rotten, then tackled a hole gnawed into the back door by some rodent. Fratz had assured him up and down that it was a fresh hole and there was little sign of vermin inside. They were lucky and nipped it in the bud before it became a real problem. The last item on the list was a better shelter for the horse. They had plenty of lumber, and Tenet enjoyed the hard work it took to saw the pieces into shape with a hand saw. By mid-afternoon, he was hot and sweating and dirty and loving it. He truly enjoyed building things.
It was when he was sitting on the roof, awkwardly holding a board in place with one hand against the new supports for the wall while he tried to hammer a nail in with the other hand, all while trying to hold on to the roof with his feet so he wouldn't fall that he saw a woman. She had made no noise approaching him and stood only twenty feet or so away. She simply stood and stared, her long gray hair that matched her heavy fur clothing whipping in the wind. For a second, he knew he was seeing a ghost. He was absolutely convinced of it and dropped his hammer, board, and nail.
"You don't belong here," she said with a slight lilt in her voice.
She was no ghost. "This...this is my home..." he stammered, trying to push himself up without falling off the roof.
"This is no man's home."
"It's mine. I've got the key and everything."
"You carry the key to hell itself then, foolish boy."
Tenet frowned. This was not going well. He turned and climbed down the slats of the lean-to. "I think before you decide that I'm foolish we should have a proper introduction." He turned with his hand out, but she was gone. He looked around, but couldn't tell where she went. "Hello?" His voice bounced off the forest and echoed back to him. He walked around the house completely, calling his hellos as he went. There was no answer, only the rustling in the wind like before. He stopped when he was back in front of the lean-to and scratched his head. Had he imagined it?
He was not one to believe in ghosts. He was not exactly closed off to the idea, per se. He'd just been raised to believe in the foolishness of that type of thinking. There was no science that said they were real, so they were assumed to be stories. The same went for all fairy story creatures and beings. It was scientifically impossible for a humanoid to grow wings and call itself a fairy, ergo it simply couldn't exist. He didn't believe in any of that, wasn't superstitious, and firmly knew that logic was the true miracle in life.
However, as he climbed back up on the roof for the second attempt at nailing in the difficult board, he couldn't help but wonder why that woman had frightened him so badly. He was shaken up. He couldn't deny it. There was something almost mystic about her, and no matter how much he tried to reason with himself the rest of the afternoon, he couldn't shake the shiver of fear, or the memory of his gut reaction to her. As he lay in the bed by himself through the dark night, he strained to hear any signs of her return and wished again his wife was home.
Tenet woke up groggy and in a bad mood the next morning. He'd gotten little sleep, and the bits he'd snatched here and there were filled with disturbing dreams. He drank a greedy second cup of coffee, hoping that would make his hazy funk lift. It didn't. Neither did the dark, foggy morning outside. He'd finished his list of repairs and was tempted to call it a day before the day even really began. The only thing that stopped him was the memory of the long, tortuous night. He wasn't excited about the prospect of spending the entire day in the same manner. He sighed and looked around the yard for something to keep him busy. Wood. They had no wood for the fireplace in the living area or the cooking stove. They'd definitely need a lot to last for the winter.
Tenet grabbed his saw and the brand new ax Fratz had given them as a house gift, and studied the woods behind the house. It was thick and deep and each tree looked like all the others to him. He couldn't go far or else he'd be hopelessly lost. An idea struck, and he went back inside and found a length of rope. He tied one end to the support pillar of the lean-to, and the other end to his belt. It wasn't very long. He'd only get about twenty feet deep into the woods. Still, it would at least let him explore a bit without getting lost. He picked a gap between the trees and entered.
He pushed through the thick twist of brambles, weeds, and broken branches, the forbidding undergrowth of the deep forest. He went until the rope tugged at his belt and then stopped and looked around. He leaned back and looked up into the tall canopy far overhead. There was certainly plenty of wood to be had, that was for sure. Just one of these trees would probably be enough for the winter. He put his hand on the trunk and marveled once again at how different everything in this new life was for him. In their New Canada lands, they had similar trees to these, though much shorter and much more gnarled. In Southland, they'd had nothing but palms, short mesquites, and cacti. These trees were tall, straight, and their bark was thick with sticky stuff oozing from the places where dings and nicks marred the skin. He pinched a roll of the sticky stuff between his fingers. It would make excellent glue. He sniffed it, and the smell was very pleasant, so he decided to see what it tasted like. He spat it out quickly. Smells good, tastes bad, he told himself. He made a mental note to never try that again.
Tenet rubbed the rough bark and considered cutting this tree down. It seemed a sha
me to cut such a tree. He didn't use wood in his old life because there wasn't a reason to. Trees weren't sacred or anything, but he'd never actually cut one down before. It seemed almost a shame to bring down such a great beauty. He looked around at the fallen branches and dead wood around him. He didn't know if there'd be enough, but he decided to start with that and then see. If he didn't have to cut down a tree, he'd prefer not to. He followed his rope back to the lean-to and placed the ax and saw inside. He'd start with what he could drag out and cut it in the clearing of the yard where he had room to work.
By afternoon, he had removed his shirt, brambles be damned. The work was hard and hot and he'd face a few scratches if it meant he'd be slightly cooler. Trying to get the dead wood out of the tangle of undergrowth was slow going. It seemed as if the forest itself fought to keep the pieces of its fallen brethren. At least, that's how Tenet saw it after only a little while. He believed the forest was against him. Part of him knew he was just hot, tired, and lonely, that he was making things up to keep his mind busy. He didn't care. He went with it. Bitching and griping at the forest, swearing at the trees he bumped into or telling the bramble how rude it was to scratch him made the experience pass faster. He worked against the enemy until it was nearly dark. He stood and looked at the pile he'd dragged out and knew that it only looked large because of the unevenness of the branches. Once he broke it down, he knew it would be a depressingly small amount of wood and nowhere near enough for a week, let alone the winter.
Tenet sighed heavily. "But it's a start." He grabbed his ax and saw, ate a quick dinner, and collapsed into bed with his pants and boots still on, utterly exhausted.
The next morning, he was in a better mood having been too tired the night before to bother with nightmares. He drank a quick cup of coffee, crunched down a handful of dried carrot slices without even rehydrating them, and then got back to it.
By early afternoon of the second day of wood gathering, Tenet had a large enough tangle of branches that he needed to start breaking them down and cutting up the larger pieces. He worked at that until dark, then again through the next morning. The pile was actually bigger than he expected, and he felt a renewed sense of hope as he set off into a different area for a fresh pile of dead wood. He saw a large tree had been downed and felt the excitement of such a valuable discovery. He surged forward and almost reached it before the rope tugged at his belt. He frowned and turned. He could just about see the house. If he stomped around and pulled up some bramble, he could easily find his way back. He followed the rope to the lean-to, got the ax, and began chopping a path through the spiky undergrowth. When it was cleared, he untied the rope and brought his ax to investigate the tree.
The fallen tree was huge and mostly intact. Though it no longer had any needles, it also had no visible rot. It couldn't have lain on the forest floor for very long. He stood on top with his feet spread and brought his ax down, grinning when it bounced back off the firm, hard wood. He rubbed his hands together and got a better grip on the handle, then swung. This time he was ready for the hard impact, and the ax head bit into the bark.
He worked and chopped until he was too sore and tired to do any more. He had cut several large sections that he figured he'd be able to pull out with a rope. He'd break it down more where he had room to move, just like the rest. He looked up and rolled his aching neck. He'd never worked so hard in his life, and oddly, it felt good. He wondered again if he would have been able to do this kind of work just a year ago. He knew the answer and was deeply satisfied by the personal change.
Tenet rolled his shoulders and decided to call it a day. He turned and jumped down then froze. The woman was there. She stood only a few feet away this time, in the clearing he had made in the bramble.
"Hello," he said after an uncomfortable silence.
"Why are you chopping dead wood in my forest?"
He saw no alternative than to answer honestly. "My wife and I need wood to heat the house through the winter."
"But why are you chopping dead wood?" The woman's eye held some kind of challenge. She placed her palm on a tree next to her. "Surely you would be best served with the wood this sister can provide?"
Tenet didn't know what the woman was getting at. Perhaps she was insane. "There was a dead tree on the ground. I thought it was best to use that wood."
"And when that is gone?"
He shrugged. "I suppose in a forest this thick I'll be able to find another dead tree pretty easily."
The woman's eyes narrowed and her lips pinched together. "The one before you took the sisters from the forest. You expect me to believe you'll be any different?"
The trees were important to her. He should have guessed that before. Of course they would be. Hadn't Scarab said the religion was based around nature? He was immensely glad his guilt at the thought of cutting down a tree he liked to look at had made him opt for dead wood instead. "I will be different," Tenet assured the old woman. "I was a farmer. I appreciate flora. There is no sense in taking something living if there's an alternative."
"Hm." Her stern expression didn't soften, but Tenet could see in her eyes that she was considering what he said.
"My name is Tenet Lorne," he said, offering his hand. She didn't even glance down at his outstretched hand, and he slowly withdrew. Okay, so not the friendly type. "I suppose I'm the new medic around here."
"We don't need your medicine. We have our own."
His mind raced to think of the diplomatic responses. He did not want this woman angry with him. He doubted they'd ever be friends, but if he could at least set her mind at ease a little bit, then maybe they wouldn't be enemies. "Good. I was actually hoping to learn some of your methods." He noticed the surprise in her eyes, even though her face remained stoic. "I was taught by my mother, but only know southern tribal healing. I don't even know if you've got the same herbs up here as we had." He gave a little laugh. "Frankly, I don't really think I'm cut out for the job at all. But our options were pretty limited."
"I don't teach healing to outsiders," she said firmly.
"I understand. My mother never shared her tribe secrets with anyone, either."
"Why are you here, boy? It sounds to me like you're a long way from your people."
"I have no people anymore," he answered honestly.
She scoffed then. "Then I know you are lying. No tribe that I know of forgets their own."
"They do in Southland." Her eyes flashed at that. "They wrote my mother off for marrying into a different caste. I've never even met them, though I can assure you I'm very familiar with their healing."
She looked like she was trying to decide whether or not he was telling the truth. "Do you know who I am, boy?"
"A Celtist, if I'm not mistaken."
She was intrigued. He said Celtist, not "Celtie" or "witch" like the army tended to call her people. "And that does not scare you?"
"Not really."
She held up her hand and pointed a finger at him. She chanted a few words and judged his reaction. When there was none, she was even more intrigued.
"What language was that?" he asked, hoping he wasn't being rude.
"An ancient one we use to put a hex on intruders," she said almost fiercely.
Tenet suddenly understood. She was trying to frighten him off. "It sounds very lyrical."
She frowned deeply. "You have been cursed. Do you not understand that?"
He nodded. "Yes, ma'am. But since I've been cursed for a few months already, I don't believe I'm in any worse danger."
That surprised the hell out of her and if she wasn't still leery of this newcomer, she probably would have laughed. He had guts, that was a fact. "Where is the girl?"
So they had been watched. He hadn't just imagined the eyes on them. "She went to the far side of Nortaberg to hunt."
"The woman hunts and leaves you behind to talk to bushes?" She had fully intended to come and scare them off. She saw the coldness in the eyes of the woman and the big soldier, and the se
ptad believed they needed to be rid of these people as quickly as possible. Two beautiful years of peace were not going to be shattered by any more of the army's lackeys. "Why is she hunting in Nortaberg? Haven't our forests proven their bounty?"
It was another test, only this time it was one Scarab had prepared him to handle. She hammered it into him over and over that if anyone asked, anyone at all, he was to make it absolutely clear she was on the far side of Nortaberg and off Celtist land. "She's hunting where she has permission."
This truly surprised the woman. She was stunned silent for a minute. "And...the soldier?"
"He's gone," Tenet assured her. "He was our escort from the Southland border. I suppose the army wasn't sure if we were going to cause trouble or not."
"And when will he return with more?"
Tenet was uneasy with the level of bitterness in her voice. "He won't be back, neither will other soldiers. It's just Scarab and myself."
"There will be more," she insisted.
He shook his head. "I can't promise you anything, but I really don't think so. At least not for more than to cart me off." How could he explain without explaining too much? "I said I had no tribe anymore, and I don't. I don't because they didn't want me to live any longer. So we came here hoping to have a chance at life. We didn't pick this house. Actually, if you want to know the truth, I think the government just stuck us here where we'd be tucked out of the way. They don't like me and I can't say as I like them. Well, all but Fratz. He's treated us real kindly and I think he's a good man."
"I see." She didn't, not really. Perhaps further investigation would clear things up. For now, she needed to go and meditate on what she had learned, and report to the septad. She didn't see malice in this man. She also didn't hear anything in his words that raised her alarms to say he was lying. He didn't tell his full story, but he certainly told more than she would have expected. Her dealings with the army usually followed a set pattern, and this was something completely different. Yes, meditation and discussion. The time of rest and reflection was drawing close, and it would be a relief to the entire community of they could have the peace of knowing the demons weren't already among their numbers.
"You have my permission to continue to remove dead wood from the forest." She held up a gnarled finger before he could thank her. "The sisters, they speak. If you take one swing on a living member, you will meet the same fate as the one that went before you."
Tenet swallowed hard and nodded. "Rest assured, I have no plans on harming anything here."
"We shall meet again when my septad has decided if you deserve shelter within our number."
"Thank you, ma'am."
She pressed her lips together again and thought for a second. "Mirvena. I am the priestess Mirvena."
He smiled. "Nice to meet you, Mirvena."
"Get to your shelter boy. A storm is coming."
Tenet frowned and looked at the sky above the treetops. "It doesn't look..." She was gone again, and before he could look for her, the tree tops began cracking and swaying in a sudden wind. He put his head down and ran for the house, managing to get almost to the door before the sky opened up and unleashed its torrent.
Once inside, Tenet closed the door firmly behind himself, then slumped back on it for support. As he wiped the rain off his face, he wondered if he said and did the right things. Scarab would probably be pissed at how much he told the old woman. He definitely knew she'd take the hexing seriously. He walked into the kitchen and put a pot of water on to boil some vegetables for dinner, then sat heavily in the chair and thought over the encounter. He wished he knew more about the Celtists. Was it good what happened? It had to be. He got a name, and permission. Aside from the hexing, which he felt strongly was no more than an attempt to frighten him, it seemed to go well.
Right?
Scarab would know. Where the hell was she? She said she'd be gone a few days. It was now day five without her. He should have been more clear on when she'd get back. What if something happened? Tenet ate his dinner and washed in the icy well water, listening to the storm rage and blow outside and couldn't get his mind off Scarab. She knew what she was doing, he reminded himself. He stared out the window at the flashes of late season lightning that cut through the darkness. Surely she'd spent worse nights. She was near the town. She could stay at an inn. They had an inn, right? He tried to convince himself that he definitely saw an inn and she'd surely be smart enough to hole up there if she needed to.
If she made it to town.
If she wasn't being stubborn.
If she'd just reach out and ask for shelter.
Tenet went to bed, but couldn't sleep. He lay in the dark and listened as the storm finally wound down late in the night. And still he couldn't sleep. The bed felt very empty. He felt very empty. He missed her. He worried about her. He just wanted her home.