Partially revised March 2020

Questions and Answers

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III III III

Anne's mind was reeling as she was sitting on the bed, waiting for Liecia to return. The woman had left the room with a muttered apology, right after Anne had told her what she thought to be her name. Yes, she was sure about that, she realised now. Her name was Anne… but why had that other name – the one, Liecia had called her – seemed so familiar? It had been the weirdest feeling, knowing that she was the one being addressed, associating a familiar feeling with the name, and yet at the same time, she didn't believe anyone had ever called her that before. Was she losing her mind?

For the last five minutes or so, Anne had been desperately trying to remember something, or anything at all. Her mind was a dark, blurry mass. Whenever she thought she might get hold of something, it slipped it away. Once or twice, images would appear in front of her mind's eye, but she could not make head or tail of it. It was like struggling to remember a dream, or trying to hold water in the cup of your hand. The memories were running through her fingers, even as she tried to grasp at them.

What on Earth had happened to her?

She shivered and hugged herself - once more becoming aware of the uncomfortable feeling of the clammy nightgown on her skin. Suddenly, she heard raised voices quickly coming closer. Looking up, she warily watched as the door burst open and a small group of people entered. One of them was Liecia – but there were also two men and another woman, who was carrying a lantern and kept slightly to the back of the group.

Liecia was still talking insistently to a stocky man with a shaggy mane of silver-streaked red hair. He, too, wore an apron over his breeches, and his linen shirt was open at the collar, revealing more auburn hair. He had a towel slung over his shoulder and was eyeing Anne suspiciously.

"… honestly, Master Dockleaf, she is weak, in shock and not even properly dressed! Surely this can wait!"

"'Wait'! I think not! If she is… I will not have one of them in my house!"

"Now, now, Dockleaf, more haste, less speed," the second man said calmly, moving forward and further into the room.

He was a bit taller than the other man, strongly built and his dark hair reached his shoulders, although it was not quite as shaggy as that of the agitated redhead. His worn clothes might have been a shade of dark green at some long-ago point, but it was so faded, that one could only guess at its original colour.

Clearing his throat, he now sat down opposite Anne, on one of the chests lining the wall. He rested his left hand on his knee, while the right one was placed lightly on his hip…

No, Anne realised as she took a closer look, not his hip but on the hilt of the sword at his hip.

Her breath quickened. What on Earth was going on? It almost seemed like there were afraid of her – or at the least very cautious. But, that was ridiculous, what threat could she possibly pose, being scared out of her mind, not able to remember anything… or clear anything up, for that matter. She desperately hoped they would not demand an explanation she could not give.

"We need you to tell us what happened. Why you have fled."

So much for that hope. She had fled from somewhere? Should she try to play along? Pretend she knew what he was talking about? They obviously did not know very much about her … But no, that could only backfire, lead to even more mistrust on their part, and somehow she suspected that she was entirely at their mercy. She vaguely wondered what 'one of them' was supposed to mean. She swallowed.

"I… I don't know."

He frowned slightly. "What is it you don't know?"

Anne slowly shook her head; she could feel her heartbeat in her throat. "Nothing. Anything… I do not know how I got here, or… or about fleeing. I do not know where I came from. Please..." She tried to keep the tremble out of her voice and failed. "Where am I? What is this place?"

The dark-haired man's eyes had narrowed at the beginning of her rambling, but now his face seemed to soften a little, as he watched her with an expression close to pity. Glancing up, Anne saw that sentiment mirrored in the faces of the others, although the man called Dockleaf still looked a tad suspicious. None of this made her feel any better.

"You are in Carrockton," the man in front of her finally said, watching her closely as he spoke. "A town west of the Eryn Lasgalen. You are in the town's inn, The Rolling Barrel, the landlord is Master Dockleaf over there."

Anne glanced at Dockleaf, who murmured something like, "Must have been quite a blow…"

"You came from Esgaroth - Lake-town, on the other side of the forest. They say you arrived here four days ago – barely conscious. With a fever already running high."

Anne felt her head spin, while she tried to process all this. She could not connect the names he had said with anything; although she had the odd feeling that she had heard them before – at least some of them.

"I was… on my own?" She finally managed to get out.

Both pity and discomfort was now clearly written on his face. It was Liecia though, who answered instead of him. Her voice was soft and full of sympathy.

"No. No, you were not on your own." She crouched down on the bed next to Anne and tentatively laid a hand on her arm.

"It was your brother who brought you here, Elena… Anne. But, his wound was so severe, he… he died the same night that you arrived here. Everyone thought it a miracle he made it this far..."

"And no mistake about it," Dockleaf muttered. "Slid out of the saddle, like all strength had left him, the instant he reached the courtyard…"

Liecia shot him an angry glance and then looked back at Anne, her eyes softening.

"I am so sorry."

Anne stared at her. Then she slowly turned her gaze to her hands in her lap. She was aware of the tense silence in the room and frantically searched for some kind of emotion inside herself, but there was none. Nor could she think of something appropriate to say. What do you say when hearing of the death of a family member you don't remember? She wished she could recall his name.

"How was he wounded?" Her voice sounded distant in her own ears. She looked up and noticed they were exchanging glances.

"We don't know," Liecia said at last. "We thought it might have been on the same occasion that you were hurt."

"Me?" Anne said, puzzled.

"The back of your head. There was a wound like you slammed against something hard."

Anne reached up and tentatively touched her scalp where Liecia had indicated. The wound seemed to have closed and was healing, but it was a bit sore and there still was a slight bruise. She felt panic rising inside of her. What was going on? She had arrived here with her brother, whom, along with everything else, she could not remember – after fleeing from their home, or so it appeared. On their way here, something had happened to them, resulting in him being injured so severely that he didn't survive it. She racked her brain again, but it was no use. Before waking up here, in this room – there was nothing.

"I don't understand… I can't..." She looked around at them helplessly. "I don't remember what happened. I don't even remember him – my brother…"

Not a brother…

A sister

Anne paused, her mouth was very dry suddenly. That thought - where had that come from?

The man in front of her looked at her attentively. "Have you remembered anything?"

She slowly shook her head. "No… no, I don't think so."

He sighed. "Well, trying to rush it will probably do no good. I am afraid the head injury is the cause of your memory loss. If that is indeed the case, your memories might return, but you will have to give it time," he looked over to Dockleaf. "You do not have to worry, I am certain she is still herself... whoever that might be."

The man gave her a faint smile as he rose, and Anne briefly wondered whether this was the weak attempt of a joke. "Besides," he added, addressing the landlord once more. "All of them – those we have encountered so far at least - were males."

"Yes, yes," Dockleaf grumbled. "Better to be on the safe side though, isn't it? If you say she shows no sign of..." He trailed off, leaving the sentence unfinished.

"She doesn't. I understand why you were worried though, these are strange times, and most people are not cautious enough."

Dockleaf turned to Anne. "My apologies, young lady. Indeed, this house used to be more hospitable, but surely you understand – nowadays one has to be careful."

"Oh, that- that is quite alright," Anne stuttered, not understanding anything. "It seems you have been very hospitable towards me already. Thank you for… for everything."

"Ah, naturally, naturally. After all, we promised your brother and everything... well, you should rest now, or er - freshen up, if you like."

The awkward way he glanced at her, wrecked all hope that she might not look as bad as she had feared. Both men bowed slightly in her direction and left the room. Liecia scrutinised Anne.

"You really should take a bath, if you don't feel too weak. This bed needs fresh sheets, and that nightdress could do with a good scrubbing, also. Nesta, would you take her?"

"Of course," The other woman beckoned Anne to come with her. "Come, it is not far."

Anne nodded and followed her out the door and onto a dark landing. There, they turned right and followed the corridor which ended at a door. Nesta opened it and, gesturing for Anne to follow her, went inside ahead, and started lighting several lanterns. The room was L-shaped, with high windows and a tiled floor of fired clay. The floor was sloping down slightly towards one corner, where Anne could see a low opening in the wall, just above the ground, and assumed that it was to drain the water. There were two wooden tubs in the room, as well as a little wood-burning stove, and several large kettles and pots. Nesta opened the hatch in the stove and began busying herself with lighting a fire.

"While I heat the water, you can wash up. To scour the tubs is hard work, therefore it's better to get as clean as possible before using them. Take one of the stools over there, so you do not have to stand. Soap and cloths are on the shelf to your right."

Anne felt a bit self-conscious undressing in front of a stranger, albeit a woman. Her longing to feel clean was stronger than her embarrassment, though. She took one of the little stools that were stacked in a corner, placed it as securely as she could on the sloping ground, and awkwardly pulled the nightgown over her head. After she had helped herself to a crumbly piece of soap and a cloth, she realised that she had no water. Unsure what to do, she turned to Nesta, who was still poking at the fire.

"Um…the water..."

"Over there," Nesta said, indicating the kettles. "Take one of the smaller ones."

Anne took the smallest pot which was still heavy enough, sat down on the stool and started cleaning herself as best as she could. She watched in awe as Nesta heaved one of the big kettles onto the stove. The woman did not look much stronger than she was.

When the water appeared to be warm enough, Nesta lifted the kettle from the fire and poured the water into the tub, and told Anne that she could get in now, politely keeping her gaze averted. Even while Anne carefully stepped into the tub, Nesta put a second kettle on the stove. This one was smaller, so that after the water was heated, she could slowly pour it over Anne, who sat with her legs tucked up and tried to wash her hair.

After they were finished, Nesta left her alone to dry herself, but returned soon with a fresh nightdress for her. She helped Anne, who felt a bit wobbly by now, to pull it over her head. When Anne asked whether she should help to empty the tub, Nesta smiled for the first time, but shook her head. She was actually very pretty with her fair skin and dark hair. She explained to Anne that Odo, one of the male servants at the Rolling Barrel was responsible for emptying the tubs and making sure that the kettles and pots were always filled.

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When they came back to the bedchamber, Anne saw that Liecia had put fresh linen on 'her' bed and opened a window, which she had not noticed before. The scents of the summer night, hay and blooming fields filled the room. After settling down on the bed, she looked up to Nesta, who was rummaging in a chest, eventually producing a woollen blanket, and put it on the foot of Anne's bed.

"Here, in case you should get cold. I doubt you will though, it is a warm night."

"Thank you. Not just for the blanket I mean, but for everything else."

"Oh, do not worry about it."

"No, really… everyone is so kind and -" Anne made a helpless gesture, "Letting me stay here, taking care of me…"

Nesta looked at her, bemused, sitting down on one of the other beds. "Don't be silly, what else would we have done? You were alone and ill, and now it seems that you have nowhere else to go. You shall stay here, at least for now."

Anne nodded, feeling a bit sheepish. "May I ask you something?"

Nesta inclined her head, even though her smile seemed a little cautious. "Go ahead."

"The man from before... the dark-haired one. Who was he? It felt a bit like he was interrogating me."

"He is a Ranger from Eriador. It is said that they live scattered in small communities in the West, sometimes patrolling the lands – keeping them safe, or so I have heard, at least. They are not often seen on this side of the mountains, but the one you met is an acquaintance of Master Dockleaf. I believe his name is Nardil."

Anne nodded slowly. The name Eriador seemed familiar somehow, but none of the information triggered any memories. "What did he mean when he said that…" She frowned, trying to recall his exact words. Then, she had it. "I was still myself?"

Nesta looked slightly uneasy. "Yes," she muttered. "Of course, if you don't remember anything else, you would not know about that either. There is…" She paused, looking like she was searching for the right words.

"What?" Anne prompted. Her throat felt tight for some reason.

"It feels odd, explaining it to someone." Nesta sighed, staring at her hands, which were clasped tightly in her lap.

"For a while now, things have... been changing. The land is not as safe as it used to be. Thirty years – even ten years back, it was very different, but now it's almost as if things are returning to the way they were at the time of the great war, and that was more than forty years ago. Of course, I was not even born at that time, it's what the elders say, those who remember those dark days. Raids on villages and smaller towns, merchants intercepted, travellers being robbed... and worse.

"Some people say, the source of it all lies in the black land – like so many decades ago. Others say it all comes from Rhun, in the northeast, but that sounds more like the gossip of busybodies, if you ask me. Although, we feel the effects, Carrockton has been mostly spared so far. For one thing, it is shielded by the great forest; the folk of the Woodland realm still protects their borders, but only to some extent."

Anne was trying to keep track. This was a little overwhelming, to say the least. How could she not remember at least something like this? Something so… big.

"I understand…" She slowly said, not sure she truly did. "So, Master Dockleaf and the... the Ranger thought that I was one of those bandits who are wandering about and attacking people?"

"Oh, no," Nesta shook her head, hugging herself and rubbing her upper arms. "That is not what they thought. You see, apart from the Woodland folk and a few small human settlements, no one used to live in the forest. But now, there are others… other people.

Anne stared at her. There was something about the way Nesta said people... it made the skin on the back of her neck prickle.

"What sort of people?"

Nesta took a slow breath through the nose, keeping her eyes firmly on Anne's.

"The altered ones."

III III III

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