Chapter 11
Fratz pulled to a stop when his horse whinnied in a way he knew meant the beast was very close to throwing his big ass off if it didn't get to rest soon. "We can't go no more if'na want ta keep my seat," he said when Tenet asked why they were stopping.
Though Tenet was hellbent on reaching Carlton as quickly as possible, he had to admit that he was ready for the break. His thighs had been rubbed raw by the saddle and he was desperate for the aloe cream he carried in his pack. He slowly worked his leg over the saddle and hopped down to the ground, landing with an "oof" and an ungraceful stumble. He held his hand up to help Scarab and knew as soon as she accepted any help at all that she needed the break as well. They were attempting to complete a two week journey in a few days, and it was demanding on even the most seasoned in the group.
"Thanks," Scarab said, letting go of Tenet's hand as soon as she was on the ground.
Tenet nodded and waddled off to make use of a tree. That was how it had been between them for two days. Not unfriendly, exactly, but certainly distant. Scarab rubbed her thighs to get the feeling back in her legs. They had ridden for nearly seven straight hours and she felt it in every muscle. "Another four hour stop?" she asked Fratz.
Fratz stood and leaned back, sighing in relief when his back let out a loud crack. "Think we be needin' the whole night, missy." He saw Scarab's scowl and shrugged. "Sorry."
Scarab let out a breath and made her way to a bush to relieve herself. She knew they all needed rest, knew the horses were strung out, knew they needed to try and get real sleep not just a nap. Even Wren and his men were showing signs of fatigue. They had to rest, no matter how much she wanted to keep going. She finished her business and stood, her knees creaking with the effort. Not for the first time on this trip she thought about how old she was getting. She almost regretted putting her body through so much when she was younger.
Back at the camp, Scarab was surprised to see tents being erected. They hadn't bothered with them the night before when they only had four hours to eat, water the horses, treat saddle wounds, and catch a quick nap. It hadn't made sense to waste any of that time in putting up tents. "Getting too old to sleep in the fresh air, Fratz?" she asked, as she took up the poles Tenet was working with and helped him click them together.
Fratz gave her a grin. "I tole ya a long time ago, I don't like sleepin' on the ground. I figure I'm the boss man now, I get me a tent for a snooze." He motioned toward the Celtist warriors who were crouched down to start a fire. "We have enough ta share."
"Keep your tents," Wren said, not even looking up from his task. Tenet made a little noise in his throat and Wren stood to address Fratz directly. "Many thanks, but we will sleep under the Mother's bounty."
Fratz held in a sigh. They were all working towards the same goal, yet they were still so far apart. His men only said a handful of words to the warriors, and only then when absolutely necessary. It was no good. If he couldn't even get his own soldiers to show these warriors respect, then things would get very hairy at the base. "This be good huntin' land," he said to Wren. "We might use some fresh meat, if'na want ta hunt for some."
Wren sized the man up. There was a look in the soldier's eye that said he had a plan, and it only took a second for Wren to catch on. Though he was trying, it had been impossible to get Takar and Lendyl to be anything but wary of the soldiers. He saw what Fratz was doing and gave a small nod to the clever man. "We will need help. There are deer signs and an organized hunt would be in order."
Fratz smiled, glad the leader of the Celtists warriors was a man of reason. "Olaf, Kanto, go with them." He chose the two he thought would warm up to the warriors the easiest. Olaf gave a small grumble, but Kanto obeyed without question. Fratz noticed that Kanto even bowed to Wren as he passed, and the boy clearly had a basic understanding of Celtist culture. In fact, by the time the small party was out of view, Kanto appeared to be speaking with young Lendyl. Though neither held high positions in their groups, both being young as they were, it was a start to building ties between them all.
"Nice thinking," said Scarab, fluffing out the tarp they'd put over the tent poles.
Fratz gave her a wink and set to helping his men erect their tents. Soon the camp was set up and Scarab and Tenet went off to gather wood for the fire. Fratz was glad to have a minute without their tense silence. He sincerely hoped Tenet would say something stupid and start a fight. The two needed to get the air clear and they needed to do it soon.
Tenet drew a large knife from his belt and began sawing a huge branch he found.
"We'd do better to get the small stuff back first so they have something to build with, first," Scarab pointed out.
Tenet's jaw tightened. "Are you telling me how to start a fire?"
Scarab sighed and scooped up another armful of twigs. "I'll just get the small stuff, then."
She stormed back to camp with the first load, and Tenet frowned at her back. He turned and began to hack at the large branch in earnest. He weakened it, then brought his foot down on the weak spot, feeling a deep satisfaction as the branch cracked in half. He started in on the next section and Scarab returned.
"I wasn't telling you how to build a fire," Scarab snapped.
"Sure sounded like it to me." He brought his arm up and thunked the blade down into the wood as hard as he could.
His tone of voice set Scarab off even more. "Fine, then. Have it your way. Build a fire from the start with huge, wet logs. I'm sure you'll get far that way." She bent over and snatched up a long stick, then snapped it hard over her knee.
"See? You were telling me how to build a fire!" Tenet shook his head. "Unbelievable. You really have no faith in me whatsoever, do you?"
Scarab threw her hands in the air. "And we're back to this."
"Back? We never left 'this'!" Tenet bellowed. He stared at her, waiting for her to fight back. When she simply glared back, he swore and started hacking at the log again.
"I'm...sorry," Scarab said after a few silent moments, biting the word out between clenched teeth. "I didn't mean to make you feel like that." She felt better for getting it out, and fully expected Tenet to accept her apology.
Tenet scoffed. "You call that an apology?" He cut his hand through the air. "Nope. Not taking it. Not this time. Maybe if you meant it..."
Scarab felt her own anger bubble back up. "Are you kidding me? I wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it and you damn well know that!"
"So you get to say whatever you want and I'm just supposed to let you, huh? Damn my feelings. Damn what I think." Tenet let out a bitter laugh. "No faith in me at all, and after all I went through to get to you."
Scarab marched up to him and stood on her tip toes, her face right in his. "So now you're going to hold that against me, is that it?"
"I'm not holding anything against you. I just want you to realize that I'm not the bumbling idiot I used to be."
"I never said you were."
Tenet laughed in bitterness. "And yet, you keep trying to control every part of this rescue mission. You can't let anyone help, even just a little. Nothing's changed, has it?"
The frustration inside Scarab was too much. "Everything's changed!" she screamed. "I've changed so damn much I can't even do this anymore. I let them take her and I let myself get caught."
Tenet opened his mouth, then shut it again, stunned at what she was saying.
"I got soft, I got weak. That's really what this is about, isn't it? Say it."
Tenet shook his head, stunned. "That's not what I..."
"Say it!" she yelled, begging him to put the blame where it belonged.
"What are we doing?" Tenet cut in, the anger suddenly gone. He didn't want to yell at her. He didn't want to fight. He dropped his arm and sat heavily on the branch he'd been chopping. He looked so tired, so strung out. Scarab suddenly felt spent, and she walked over to flop on the branch by his side.
"I hate apologizing," she muttered. "But I didn't mean to sound like I blamed
you or don't trust you. I...I just lashed out. I don't want you to be mad at me."
Tenet snorted in spite of his mood. He took her hand and held it, and Scarab was shocked to find he was shaking. "I'm not mad at you," he said quietly. "I'm so mad at myself I'm sick with it."
"Tenet..." But he squeezed her hand and she stopped talking.
After long moments of silence, Tenet finally felt like he could speak without breaking down. "Is this how angry you were all those years? Is this why you hunted?" He looked at Scarab and she felt a stab at the pain in his eyes. "Is this what you tried to outrun?"
Yes, Scarab wanted to scream. Yes it was, she wanted to cry. She suddenly felt naked and bare, vulnerable in a way she never had before and she found she couldn't say anything. Tenet looked at her for a few more moments, then drew her to him and crushed her in a desperate embrace.
"Make it stop," he whispered harshly.
Scarab shook her head. "I can't."
"Then at least don't make me go through it alone."
Scarab wrapped her arms around his waist and held him tight. "I don't know how to do this," she admitted.
"Do what?"
"Hunt like I used to," she said quietly. "I can't...I've lost it and I..." she swallowed hard, fighting back her tears. "What if I'm not good enough to get her back?"
Tenet pulled back and wiped her tear off with his thumb. He gave a small little laugh. "What a pair we are." He kissed her nose. "You haven't lost anything, wife. You still scare the hell out of me every single day." Another tear fell, but he noticed a small sparkle in her eye. "And I'm glad you can't hunt the way you used to. That way left no room for me or Violet."
For some reason, that made Scarab feel better. "I was pissed when you decided to go to Carlton so quickly."
"No, really?" Tenet said, his voice thick with sarcasm.
"I'm not used to you making decisions like that."
Tenet's smile faded, but he his arms tightened around her. "I'm not sorry I did. I won't apologize..."
"I wasn't asking you to," Scarab said quickly, not wanting to get back to the distant silence. Had she actually once craved that? Had she really thought that was the better way to live? Things had changed in the intervening years, and as long as Tenet would help her figure it out, she could handle that. "But talk to me first."
"Seems we've had this conversation before, wife. Only the other way around"
Scarab gave a wry smile. "I believe we have, husband."
"What's good for the goose is good for the gander, eh?"
"Something like that." Tenet was smiling at her again, but she noticed it didn't reach his eyes. She knew the pain he was holding inside matched her own, and right there, she determined that she'd do whatever it took to make him really smile again. "We'll get her back, Tenet," Scarab whispered.
Tenet pulled Scarab closer, needing her warmth to reach the ice inside him that wouldn't seem to go away. It didn't. For the first time in his life, he simply could not be certain that things would work out well in the end and it was terrifying. The fact that Scarab was also unsure hammered home their desperate situation. They each told the other that victory was certain, but they were all hollow words. Even so, as they sat on the log holding each other, they desperately tried to believe them.
When they emerged from the forest with their arms full of wood, Fratz took one look at them and smiled in relief. "There ya are. I was jus' about ta send out me boys ta find ya lost in the woods."
Scarab dropped her kindling and squatted by the fire. "Has the hunt been successful?"
Fratz nodded toward the edge of the field. "Sure has, missy. They be dressin' a deer on a ways up."
Tenet took a seat on the ground next to Scarab. "I hope the deer's the only thing that got shot."
Wren was waxing his bow string near the fire. Though Takar and Lendyl hadn't been overtly rude to the soldiers, they hadn't done anything to make matters worse, either, and Tenet's tone annoyed him. "My men are proud warriors," he said in their defense.
"That they be," Fratz readily agreed. "And my lot's a bunch a' greenies. But they mean well."
Wren considered that silently as he continued to care for his weapons. He supposed the snide comments and furtive, hate-filled glances the young troops shot at Wren's men went unnoticed by the big soldier in charge. Of course they would, Wren couldn't help but think bitterly. He did not have to live a life being hated and feared by all who simply did not understand. It was not the soldier's fault that he had no idea how deeply words and looks could cut, and he held his tongue. They were making progress, and as Grandmother always said, that simply took time. Wren told himself this over and over until the old bitterness was once again in check.
The hunters returned with large chunks of venison and spits were hastily constructed. In no time, the smell of roasting meat brought everyone around the fire and they sat in numb exhaustion waiting for the delicious, fresh meal. No one spoke, but the silence wasn't an uncomfortable one. Kanto sat right next to Lendyl, and even Octavio was too tired to make sure he wasn't sitting close to a Celtist. When the meat was finally ready, it was sliced and passed around.
"I never thought venison would taste so good," Tenet said. Normally he didn't have a taste for deer, no matter how it was cooked.
"Anything tastes delicious if you're hungry enough," said Scarab, wiping the juice from her chin.
"So if I were to offer you a turnip right now..."
Tenet was teasing her and a part of her soul rejoiced. She gave him a wry smile. "Now let's not get crazy."
"I like turnips," said Lendyl. "An honorable vegetable."
Stenan snorted. "Honorable? They're a root. How in the hell is a root honorable?"
Lendyl frowned. "Turnips will continue to grow in the frozen ground. They are blessed by the Mother to feed us in the darkest of times."
Stenan laughed out loud and Henrik chuckled in spite of Fratz's warning glare.
"It makes sense to me," said Kanto quietly. "Not many things can grow in the winter."
Wren had thought the young soldier had a basic understanding of Celtist culture and was pleased to hear him jump to Celtist defense in spite of his fellow soldiers' clear bias."You are familiar with Celtism," he said in his simple way.
Kanto looked to the warrior and nodded. "Yes, my Ma hailed from a southern septad." The young soldier normally kept that knowledge to himself, knowing it could be a point of ridicule in the army. However, as he heard his fellow soldiers take pot shots at the warriors through the last couple days, his anger grew and his resolve firmed. He joined the army to help change things, to help change the negative opinions and misconceptions of the Celtists that were prevalent in the nation. His father always told him there would be a time to speak up, and he knew that time had come. After his announcement he looked to the troops, his friends, and silently dared them to make fun.
Wren looked to Fratz, who seemed just as surprised as the rest of them. It was clear the leader had no idea, and Wren carefully searched the big man's expression to judge the reaction. He was surprised, but not angry or disgusted. Fratz rose a notch in Wren's estimation.
"No kidding?" asked Lendyl. "Where?"
Takar reached over and cuffed Lendyl upside the back of his head. "Do not be rude," he warned, knowing that once Lendyl began to pry, he just might not stop.
"It's okay," Kanto was quick to say. "It was the McIntyre septad in the southwest. An ocean people."
Stenan had liked Kanto, he really had. The boy was always calm and easy to get along with, and they'd been bunkmates for a year and a half without problems. He never once pegged the kid as a Celtie. "You hide it well," he couldn't help but blurt out in his surprise.
Kanto looked across the fire at his friend, and it was hard for Tenet to determine which burned brighter, the flames from the fire or the heat in Kanto's eyes. "I hid nothing. Yer never took no time ter ask. It didn't matter a lick five minutes ago!"
When Kanto was angry, his coastal ac
cent grew much thicker, and it surprised Stenan that he'd never noticed it before. Of course, he also never saw Kanto get angry. "I didn't mean anything by it," Stenan mumbled, unsure of what to make of the revelation. "I was just saying..."
"Well I, for one, am shocked as hell," said Henrik, tossing his bone into the forest behind them. "This whole time we got ourselves a Celtie."
All three warriors tensed at the term. "Henrik," Fratz said very quietly in a tone no one mistook for calm.
Henrik rolled his eyes. "Everyone's so damn sensitive these days." Fratz was glaring at him, though, and he knew he was expected to apologize. "Oh for god's sake, calm down. I didn't mean anything by it." He pointed to Takar. "Didn't I give you salve for your horse's flank?"
Takar felt his cheeks burn. He already felt shame at having to be beholden to a soldier, and now the young whelp was calling him on it in front of the group. It was a humiliation he had a hard time bearing.
Fortunately Wren jumped in, attempting to soothe the tensions. "Perhaps young Henrik is unaware of how much offense he is inflicting."
Henrik threw his hands in the air. "It's just a word! Are you really telling me that the mighty, famed Celtists warriors can't handle hearing one little word?" He shook his head.
Scarab looked around the group. All the men were as taut as a bowstring waiting to snap. She had no doubt that Henrik knew exactly what he was doing when he called them "Celties". The look on his face clearly said he intentionally picked that fight. But, she had to admit, it was a fight that needed picking. Everyone had been tip-toeing around it for days and it was time to get everything out in the open. She stood up and faced the group. "He's got a point."
"Scarab," Tenet hissed. He saw the look of betrayal on Wren's face and pulled on Scarab's sleeve to get her to sit down. "What are you doing?"
Scarab ignored Tenet and turned to Wren. "In just a few days, we will be at an army base where you will be viewed as a barbarian. A savage. A 'Celtie'. If you are going to continue with us, then you will have to swallow your anger and live with it." Scarab didn't like the look in Mr. McKay's eye and wished she didn't have to push him. She respected him above all others in the septad and his opinion of her actually mattered to Scarab. However, her words were the truth, and she hoped that once he meditated, he would accept them. "Believe me when I say I know a thing or two about getting along where you aren't wanted."
Before Wren could form a response, Scarab turned back to the soldiers. "Now for you. These men have ridden with you for long enough to demonstrate their skills. They deserve your respect, even if they aren't going to get it from anyone else." She pointed her finger at Henrik. "You owe my brothers an apology."
Henrik rolled his eyes. Fratz sighed and scooted away from Henrik, and Tenet cringed. Henrik saw Mrs. Lorne's nostrils flare a split second before she drew her weapon and aimed it at his head.
"Apologize," she demanded.
Henrik looked to Fratz. Surely the Captain would stand up for him, beat this woman down. But the Captain just sat there shaking his head, and Henrik knew he was on his own. He looked back to Mrs. Lorne. "B-but you said I was right," he stammered.
Scarab nodded. "Yep. Now, apologize."
Henrik's cheeks burned. He wondered if Mrs. Lorne would actually shoot him. Fratz had warned them all over and over while they searched for the Lornes not to get her angry, and now that he had, the warnings suddenly made sense. He hadn't been a soldier for very long, but he had learned what that look meant in a man's eyes. Apparently, it meant the same in a woman's eye, too. She would shoot him. She would really shoot him for a stupid little word because it hurt her brothers in arms. Though he didn't really understand, he had to respect that. He swallowed hard and looked to Wren. "I'm sorry."
Wren was just happy that Mrs. Lorne was finally behaving how she should. She dressed the boy down like she normally would, and the familiar interaction was a sign from the Mother Herself that even in chaos, he could find a grounding constant. He would offer up thanks before sleeping that night! "I will accept the apology for the benefit of the group."
Scarab nodded firmly and put the gun back in the holster on her hip. She sat back and gave Fratz a look, her eyes twinkling but her face hard. "I like the heft of this weapon, Fratz."
Fratz knew the change in subject was intentional and he was glad. Things could have gone so much differently. He planned on taking Henrik and Stenan aside once the group broke for sleep and giving them his own form of a dressing down. But, for the moment, the crisis had passed. "If'na likin' that, ya got'na see the bigger version at the base."
Tenet kept his sigh of relief to himself, but he snaked his hand down Scarab's leg to grasp the hand she held loosely on her knee. She let him entwine his fingers with hers while the rest of the group discussed weaponry, a safe subject for all involved. Her way of calming a potential explosion amused him in spite of their situation and he listened to her discuss the variety of new weapons and ammunition in a sleepy haze.
Fratz noticed Tenet start to doze and clapped his hands. "Now, we sleep." He ordered his men to their tents, telling Stenan and Henrik they'd have special orders come morning, then watched as Wren did the same for his two warriors. "Mr. McKay, a word if'na don't mind," Fratz said as soon as the various subordinates and the Lornes were gone.
"I would appreciate the same, Captain."
"Fratz," he said quickly. "If'na don't mind, jus' be callin' me Fratz."
Wren nodded. "And you must address me as Wren."
Fratz was relieved. He worried that there would be an animosity between them again, in spite of Wren's public acceptance of apology. Over the last couple days, he got the feeling that the stoic warrior was slowly learning to trust him, and he knew how badly both of them would need that trust if they were to really help Scarab and Tenet. He motioned to the empty seat next to him, and the warrior easily rose from his place across the fire and joined him where they could talk.
"I'll say apologies again on behalf a my men," Fratz began.
"No need," Wren said firmly. "The apology from the offender was accepted."
Fratz nodded. "Ah, but words cut deep. Sometimes it be takin' more ta heal the cut."
Wren cocked his head and studied the large soldier. "Mrs. Lorne was correct. We must strive to accept the attitude if it will get the baby back."
Fratz sighed, rubbed the back of his neck, and gave a little laugh at the memory of Scarab pointing the gun at Henrik. "She's still got'na big temper, eh? Thought I'dna have ta be lookin' for a new soldier t'morrow."
Wren could not help his own smile. "My men, they fear Mrs. Lorne as well," he admitted, keeping his voice low so he would not embarrass Takar and Lendyl.
Fratz quirked an eyebrow. "An' you?"
Wren didn't hesitate to nod. "More than my own wife."
Fratz threw his head back and laughed, and Wren joined in. "Aye, we be tough men scared of a little desert bug!"
It was not the first time Wren heard Fratz use the term for Mrs. Lorne. "Why do you call her this?"
"That's what a 'scarab' be. A bug." Fratz wiggled his fingers in front of him. "They scurry up'na desert and hide under the rocks."
Wren bristled at Fratz's description. "I do not think you should say such things about Mrs. Lorne," he said sternly.
Fratz waved a hand. "I did'na mean no offense. Truth told, I got me a soft spot for the shrew." He assessed the warrior for a second before answering. "I don't be supposin' you know much about the Lornes."
Wren knew he shouldn't pry. He really, really should not. He should dismiss himself and go have his nightly meditation session before turning in. It was a long journey that was far from over and he knew he would have to only be stronger and stronger to make it through. And yet, he could not. His curiosity was so great that he simply could not stand up and walk away as he should. "No," he admitted. "I know very little of the Lornes."
Fratz sighed. "Well I don't know how much I should be tellin' ya, if'na haven't learned y
et. It's not my own tales ta tell."
Wren felt the disappointment. Perhaps his wife's love of gossip was rubbing off on him, he thought idly as he found himself needling for more information. "I know nothing of the Southlands but myths. If the Lorne baby is to be rescued, then perhaps I should know more."
Fratz kept his smile to himself. The warrior may be a hard force to be reckoned with, but he was clearly fishing for juicy details. Still, the man made a good point. "In the Southlands, Scarab was what they call a bounty hunter. Do ya know the term?" Wren shook his head. Though Fratz didn't understand Southland culture very much himself, he did know the basics, enough to explain Scarab to Wren a little better.
"Down there, they migrate. Follow the seasons. Southland in the Winter, New Canada in the Summer."
Wren tilted his head. "The people do this?" Fratz nodded. "Like herds of deer?" Fratz nodded again and Wren frowned. "This makes no sense."
Fratz shrugged. "The weather, it be fierce. And movin' around is law." Wren had a hard time wrapping his mind around it. He'd have to meditate later, as Fratz kept talking, leaving no time for consideration between thoughts. "Some folks, they don't like ta be told ta go here an' there, an' they stay back. A bounty hunter, it be their job ta round up the folks an' bring 'em ta jail."
"A prison? For simply staying in their homes?"
"Yep, and tough ones if'na stories down border-way are ta be believed." Fratz saw the deep confusion in the warrior's face and knew it would be difficult for the man to understand. A Celtist warrior spent his entire life time protecting their homeland. He wasn't surprised the warrior couldn't fathom the way of living that was so opposite of his own.
"And Mrs. Lorne, she was one of these jailers?"
Fratz shook his head. "She was the hunter. Hunters don't do the jailin'. That's up ta the govers ta make the call. She jus' got paid ta bring 'em in."
Wren didn't know how he felt about that. She was one of the people who punished those who simply wanted to keep their lands, and yet he'd never seen anything but fierce loyalty from her. "I do not understand," he admitted, hoping Fratz could explain further and make some sense out of it all.
"I don't know the whole truth of it myself," Fratz admitted. "But she did'na have no friends in either country, theirs or up'na here. She be Celtist born herself, Wren," he said quietly.
Wren wasn't surprised. Though Mirvena never actually came out and said it, she had alluded to the fact more than once when she would urge Wren to accept Mrs. Lorne's warrior tendencies with an open mind. She knew Celtist ways. She knew exactly how to address the other warriors on a level they would understand. Fratz only confirmed what he always suspected. "Then how did she end up in Southland?" He closed his mouth firmly after blurting his question out and determined that he would not pry any more.
Fratz shrugged. "That, I don't know. But she did, and it could'na been easy if'na she end up bein' a bounty hunter." Fratz could see that Wren wanted to ask a million questions, but his warrior's training kept him silent. Fratz would have laughed if he didn't know it would offend Wren. "The weather outside Borderlands, it be harsh," he continued, explaining what Wren wanted to know without making him ask. "In Southland, it gets ta bein' real hot in the Summer, too hot ta live in. And New Canada be a frozen up wasteland in'na Winter."
Wren frowned. "We have those seasons as well."
"Ya," agreed Fratz. "But if'na take the worst Winter ya ever known, and make it ten times as bad, ya start ta get'na idea of Winter in New Canada. And the same bein' for Summer, only swapped."
"That's why they migrate," Wren said, catching on. Though getting information from the big soldier was a roundabout experience, the puzzle was finally starting to come together.
"And it be pure danger ta stay."
"So Mrs. Lorne was saving people?"
Fratz shrugged. "If'na wanna be lookin' at it like that."
"But she left and came back here." He frowned. "Why?"
"Ta keep Tenet safe from his Da."
Wren's eyes went wide. "The very bad man," he said quietly, remembering Tenet's panicked words in Hans' store before they left.
"Ya," Fratz said in almost a whisper.
It was almost incomprehensible, and Wren sat for long moments staring into the fire, struggling once again to make sense of it. Tenet's own father was the "very bad man". Wren could not imagine a deeper betrayal. He got angry at Beddick, surely. But he could not think of any possible situation that would turn him against his son. "His father must be a very bad man, indeed," he mused mostly to himself.
"He be that an' more," Fratz agreed. "He be the big boss man down ta Southlands."
Wren turned back to Fratz, his eyes wide. "Big boss man?"
"Ya, like the president of the govers."
Wren felt a sinking in the pit of his stomach. He had no idea they would be up against the government itself. At first, he didn't know how to respond. As the seconds stretched, his trepidation at their nearly insurmountable odds changed to a simmering anger. "Why could they not have just left the Lornes alone? They did not want them. We took them. They are our people now. Why wait all this time and snatch them away?"
Fratz shook his head. "If'na want an answer fer that, ya gotta look somewhere else. Dammed if'na can tell ya that myself." The warrior looked shaken, and Fratz quickly wondered if he had made a mistake. "Yer not thinkin' on leavin' now ya know what ya be facin', are ya?"
A muscle in Wren's jaw twitched and he turned angry eyes on the soldier. "I do not abandon my brothers or sisters. A Celtist warrior is not like those Southland scum!"
Fratz sighed in relief. "And a Borderlander soldier ain't, neither!" Fratz stuck his hand out to shake, to solidify their common bond. After a brief moment, Wren grasped Fratz's forearm and gave it a firm pump as he would any other Celtist warrior. They were brothers in arms, if nothing else.
"I thank ya for the trust in me," Fratz said quietly, truly meaning the words.
Wren nodded. "And the same in return." He stood quickly and gave Fratz a bow. "I must meditate on all I've learned." He turned to head toward the clearing where his men had bedded down for the night, then paused. "Thank you for trusting me with the story of the Lornes. I will guard it well."
Fratz smiled to himself. It had been another long, hard day, but a good one. Much was accomplished on all fronts, and for the first time since starting out on this difficult journey, he truly felt as if he was starting to take control. His men hunted beside the warriors. The Lornes had their fight and were back to being predictable in their behaviors. And he was slowly earning the trust of the Celtist warriors. It was a long day, but a good one, and he truly regretted that he wouldn't be in charge much longer. He sighed heavily and hoisted his large, aching body off the log, wincing when his back popped loudly. Perhaps he wouldn't mind turning over the reins of control after all. He was getting much too old for these expeditions. He chuckled at his own silliness as he stretched out and let sleep finally claim him.