“Estin, do you have a moment?” Raeln asked, and Estin jumped a little. Nodding, the man followed Raeln around the back of the wagon, getting them out of the middle of the argument about food.
The wagon they had acquired from the Turessian—before lighting her other two wagons ablaze and setting the remaining horses free—was a hulking fifteen foot long boxlike thing, seemingly built to house dozens of undead in its tightly sealed interior. It had taken them hours to break open the windows that had been built into it originally, which was a requirement to air it out enough that they could travel within it, especially for the wildings. They had also looted the meager supplies the Turessian had left behind in the various wagons, including a massive barrel of aged wine that Yoska had all but claimed ownership of. To Raeln it seemed Yoska drank more than his own weight in alcohol on any day he had the opportunity.
Coming around the side of the wagon with Raeln, Estin nervously wiped at his shirt and finally blurted out, “She’s not getting better, is she?”
“Yes and no,” Raeln admitted. “As you’d hoped, fighting is bringing back those skills faster than I had expected. Another week and she’ll be able to tear me apart at this rate. She already punches harder than most men my size. What she isn’t getting back are memories. She’s relying on instinct and what she’s seen since she came back. Anything before the fight in the village is simply gone.”
Estin thought a moment and then cringed. “That’s why she’s openly hostile to me. When we met the first time, she put aside her opinions of working with a prey-breed because of a misunderstanding. This time she has no reason to trust me at all. She saw me beaten by the Turessian.”
“What would you have me do?” asked Raeln, thinking on Feanne’s offer and dreading when Estin found out…and Raeln knew somehow he would eventually. He wanted some way to warn Estin before Feanne snuck into his bedroll, but that was going to be awkward either way. As edgy as Estin had been of late, the moment Feanne did something too obvious, he was likely to snap and try to kill someone…likely Raeln.
“We can’t repeat the past, no matter how we try,” Estin replied, taking a deep breath. “She’ll do what she wants…she always has. I can hope, but that’s really all it can be. Please help me keep the knowledge from her about our children…I think it would only confuse things more. If she finds out that we were together, I’ll deal with the anger and attempts to kill me, but I can’t have her hating our children.”
“You have my promise, Estin.”
Estin thanked him and hurried off, leaving Raeln to wonder how badly this all might end and how he had managed to get himself in the middle of it. Shaking his head at the senselessness of it all, he looked back toward the camp and saw Feanne smiling at him. This was not going to be easy.
*
Days passed relatively uneventfully, something Raeln was thankful for. The wagon had been unhindered in its travels up the long road to the next kingdom or city-state—Raeln had lost track of what came next on the map despite incessant prattling by On’esquin and Yoska—other than a few times they had passed the remains of battles long past. There never were any bodies, but they had seen the burned-out remains of wagons and even siege weaponry, and the wildlings had all picked up the strong scent of death. Thousands had died, but there was little evidence of it.
“I never thought I would travel,” said Dalania, snapping Raeln out of staring at the horizon. “Eighty years and I thought I would die in Lantonne, never having seen any other part of the world. I could die happy just having seen this much.”
Dalania sat at one edge of the wagon’s flat roof, her legs hanging off the side as she watched the eastern lands. Past her, patches of woods had given way there to high grass and low hills, stretching out as far as Raeln could see. The only interruption to the endless plains was a faint fog at the limit of his vision that never seemed to leave.
Raeln and Estin sat in the middle of the roof, both having been quietly watching the distance ahead of the wagon. They had never spoken of why, but Raeln could see Estin was doing it for the same reason he was: anticipation that the Turessians would have something sooner or later in their path. The two of them had taken on the role of scouts after being rebuffed from driving the wagon day after day.
Down below, Yoska and On’esquin took turns handling the horses that pulled the wagon ever northward. The two bickered incessantly like an old married couple. Of late Raeln had been able to ignore the men’s banter, as On’esquin had insisted on being taught the old gypsy tongue, which led to them arguing in gypsy more often than the common language. It was loud and obnoxious, but at least he could more easily put aside things he could not understand.
The horses were faring well, despite the nonstop arguments from their drivers. The six beasts lumbered on each day without causing any trouble whatsoever. Amusingly, at least to Raeln, Yoska had named them after six of his wives during the last long stop for water at a creek. Raeln still had not figured out if that was meant to be funny or somehow respectful to a gypsy.
Looking off to his left, Raeln saw Feanne was where she always was. The fox wildling sat at the edge of the wagon opposite Dalania, her knees pulled up so she could prop her chin on them and stare off toward the west, where the mountains had begun to fade into the distance. She rarely spoke to anyone other than Raeln, and even to him only when they were sparring, since the last time he had told her to go away when he was trying to sleep.
“How’s your arm?” Raeln asked Feanne, though he initially got no response.
She blinked a moment later and looked his way, seemingly having to think back to what he had asked. “I don’t know,” she replied, holding up the still-wrapped arm. “It doesn’t hurt, so I imagine it’s healing.”
“What did Estin say when he looked at it last evening?” Though Estin did not look his way, Raeln saw his ears perk.
“I didn’t have him look at it. I don’t want him touching me.”
Raeln looked down at the bandage on Feanne’s arm and realized how filthy it looked. “What about the day before?”
Feanne shook her head and watched the horizon, as Estin started to turn their way, giving Raeln an annoyed glare.
“When was the last time you had those bandages changed?” Raeln demanded, moving closer.
“Do they need to be changed?”
Raeln frowned and glanced at Estin, who was pointedly ignoring them, even though his ears tilted toward Feanne. He had been doing that for days, mostly to keep himself from trying to interact with Feanne, which would only have made his emotions more difficult. As such, Raeln was willing to bet Estin had not gone out of his way to check the bandage, either. Everyone was so busy ignoring problems that no one was doing anything to help anymore.
Taking Feanne’s hand, Raeln began unwrapping the bandage. “Let me see. Hopefully, we can get you out of bandages in another day or two…”
With one more layer of the cloth to go, Raeln came to thickly dried blood and the stench of decay. From the corner of his eye, he saw Estin’s nose twitching. Even through Feanne’s fur and his thick pads, he could feel the heat coming off her skin.
“Infection has already set in pretty badly,” Raeln told her, though Feanne’s expression gave him no indication that she understood. “We need to clean this and probably see what Estin can do to keep it from getting worse. You could lose the arm if we aren’t careful.”
Appearing entirely bored with the discussion and unconcerned about what should have been a truly painful infection, Feanne let Raeln continue to hold her arm while she turned her attention back to the mountains in the distance. “I miss them already,” she mentioned absently, while Raeln was picking at the cloth that had matted into her fur.
“Miss what?”
“The mountains. My home was there, I think.”
Raeln froze with the cloth only partway freed of the dry blood. “Do you remember anything about your home?” he asked, wondering if he should call Estin over in a hurry.
“No,” she replied quickly. “It’s a feeling and little more. All I do know is that the farther we go, the sadder I feel, like I’ve left something behind that should be with me. I’ve lost a part of myself somewhere out there.”
Raeln let her talk as he kept working on the bandage, hoping she would talk herself through remembering. With only one section of the cloth left to pull away from the wounds, he hesitated, warning her, “This may hurt.”
Nodding but still watching the horizon, Feanne did not flinch as Raeln pried away the cloth. With the removal of the dried blood, the festering gashes beneath began bleeding openly. The cuts appeared far worse than they had when first inflicted, the infection having done tremendous damage to the skin around them, puffing up the area and radiating heat.
“Estin!” Raeln called out, pressing part of the cloth onto the wounds to slow the bleeding. “I need you over here.”
Practically hopping into Raeln’s lap, Estin dove for Feanne’s arm, looking around at the wounds frantically as blood ran through her fur and down onto his hands. He shoved Raeln back, telling him, “I need room. The infection is already in her blood. This could kill her in a few days, untreated.”
Feanne turned to look at Estin, regarding him coolly, clearly unconcerned and wanting Estin to be done and gone.
“It was clean when I saw it last,” Raeln said, staring in dismay at the infection. “There is no way it should have festered so quickly. Another week, sure, but this was so fast.”
Estin shook his head. “She isn’t healing right. Bruises are lasting days, cuts for weeks. Something this deep is probably more than her body can handle.” Closing his eyes, Estin whispered to himself as he put one hand over the cuts. Blood soon soaked his black-furred hands even as he continued to concentrate. Raeln could only watch helplessly, hoping Estin knew what he was doing.
Soon Estin opened his eyes and lifted his hand, revealing the deep cuts had closed about halfway. Even the puffiness and blackened edges of the skin had returned to a more normal appearance. It was not the miraculous healing Estin had used on him a year earlier, but Raeln recognized it as a huge leap from what he had been capable of shortly after bringing Feanne back.
Estin smiled to himself as he stared at the mostly healed wounds. Then without warning, he fell sideways, his eyes rolling back as he blacked out and tumbled over the edge of the wagon.
With Raeln having moved out of Estin’s way, he was too far away to catch him, but Feanne was not. She lunged forward, nearly throwing herself off the wagon as she reached for Estin and caught his arm. Hurrying to help her, Raeln leaned over the side of the wagon and grabbed Estin as Feanne’s grip gave out, since she had grabbed him with her wounded arm.
Grunting, Raeln leaned back and slowly pulled Estin onto the wagon. The man was breathing and appeared to be awake, but did not even try to help Raeln get him back to safety. Even Feanne watched him with nervousness.
“Estin?” Raeln asked, patting the man’s face to try to rouse him. “Can you hear me?”
Estin slowly came around, blinking and looking around in confusion until he saw Feanne. Then he seemed to snap back to awareness. “I’m sorry,” said Estin, sitting up and putting a hand to his head as though he were still dizzy. “I’m still pretty weak from…I need time to recover fully.”
Feanne frowned and gave Raeln a look that made him wonder if she might throw Estin back off the wagon. To his surprise she instead slid over to Estin and nuzzled his cheek with hers briefly before sitting back.
“What was that for?” asked Estin, his eyes wide.
Smiling in that malicious way only a fox could, Feanne answered, “You hurt yourself to help me. Again. I may not understand why you do it, but I do appreciate it and hope that you realize that. Thank you.”
Sheepishly looking anywhere but at Feanne, Estin finally settled on directing his attention at Raeln. “I should go lay down,” he said, his voice shaking slightly. “Yoska says we will reach the next town tomorrow afternoon, and I would like to be a little stronger by then. I’ll need time, after this.” Not waiting for a reply, Estin moved to the end of the wagon and dropped down, catching himself on the lip of the roof. They normally kept the back of the wagon open when traveling, allowing them to swing inside if they were careful.