Grenwin carried her tray out of the Lodge's kitchen, making her way through the crowd. It seemed there were fewer and fewer people she recognized among them with every day that passed. They numbered more than six hundred now, far from where they'd begun. She could admit that she hadn't really believed they could do it, not until they'd forced the Others back for the first time she'd ever heard of. Now, Grenwin had taken the responsibility of seeing to their defense, and she found herself wanting.
Much of the time, she felt a young girl just learning to use a spear again, fumbling her way through things, too weak to do as she wished. Grenwin knew she was stronger than she'd ever been, yet the feeling only grew as her understanding of the world did. Passing by the open doors of the Lodge, she heard the laughter of children. Looking out, she saw a group of them play wrestle with the dragon's tail. Her heart skipped a beat as the tail flopped, pushing over a boy and sending him toppling. He got up, laughed, and tackled the appendage.
Shaking her head and thinking herself a fool, Grenwin continued on. Even after everything the creature had shown her, how calmly she'd behaved, there was a part of Grenwin that cowered under those predatory eyes. Walking down a short hallway, she pushed open a nondescript door. The sound of low conversation washed over her as she entered, pulling it shut behind her. A wave of recognition and greeting from the room's occupants buoyed her along, nodding and acknowledging each that met her. She saw several of her squad leaders among the number, men and women she knew she could depend on.
The room on the other side had originally been used to store excess tools and clothing, deep shelves built into the walls. Since the Tower went up, they'd pulled the stuff out and brought in thick rugs and cushions for seating, and now it'd been made into a neutral place for the leaders of the various clans and tribes to meet. Here at the lodgemoot, even a Hornfoot and a Nightrunner who shared an ancient blood-feud could speak with one another, or so the idea went. Grenwin eyed a pair of men sitting across the room from each other, staring murderously at each other. Black-footed Jomar tore a strip of dripping meat off a skewer while Halfnose Viggo poured a bowl of soup down his gullet, gazes locked. Grenwin inwardly sighed, a headache already building behind her temples.
"Ho, Gren." Teagj waved her over, making space for her to sit. He examined her appraisingly as she sat, smiling at some inner jape. "You look like you've done well for yourself while I was away. General, is it?"
Grenwin nodded sharply. "Teagj. It is. You making something of it?"
He held up his hands placatingly, "Nah, you've got your thing, I've got mine. Got all these people to join up, didn't I?"
"You did," Grenwin acknowledged. "Don't know how, but you did."
"Maia's not the only one with tricks," Teagj grinned toothily at her, lifting a bowl of stew, "Amazing what we'll do for hot food and warm beds."
She studied him, wondering at how much they'd changed. He'd been a right bastard when she'd first stumbled her way to First Fork, taking every chance to remind her of her shame. What good was an exiled Ice-wife without her bear? She could still hunt and fight as well as anyone, and she'd killed every man who'd tried to take her for a wife. Teagj, at least, had never looked at her with desire. Grenwin was surprised to see none of the old hatred in his eyes, only a grudging respect.
"Really is something." Grenwin agreed, looking around the room. The mood was celebratory, despite the disruption from Kazui's appearance. "Any problems come up?"
Teagj shrugged. "Usual shit. The dragon stirred 'em up some, sure, but no one had to bleed over it. Seems like they're damn happy with the raid last night."
Ombyr leaned over from where he sat, "Calling it a raid? That was a slaughter!" He crowed loudly. "Fuck the slavers!"
The room echoed with the rousing call, men and women cheering such a rare victory. As torn inside as she was over the deaths of her men, Grenwin knew that losing only three in a fight of that scale was monumental. All the slavers save one had been killed and their slaves freed, the spiders had been repelled, and they were still sorting through the inventory of loot they'd captured.
It had only cost three lives.
Grenwin felt a coward for thinking of the situation like that. Around the room, her officers were the only ones not shouting with the others. Sigrid stormed out of the room, door slamming behind her.
Nobody but Grenwin seemed to notice her leave.
"You gonna eat that, General?" Ombyr leaned over, pointing at her elk skewers.
She looked at the suddenly unappetizing tray of food. "Nah, not hungry." She handed him the tray.
"Thank ye," He said as he took the tray, "You hear about Jomar's boy?"
Shaking her head, "Didn't know he had a boy. What happened?"
Ombyr grinned, "Tried taking Vig. Viggo's girl, that is. Got his pecker cut clean off, now Jomar wants to cut one of Viggo's boys to make it right."
"When?"
Teagj answered, "Happened earlier, during the sirens."
Grenwin blew her breath out, "Jomar gets that's not how we do things, yeah?"
"Oh, he knows." Ombyr laughed, "His boy got cut all on his own, and he'll have to live with it. Unless you think Maia will help him?"
Frowning, she shook her head again. "Nah, not if it happened while he tried to break her rules."
"Thought as much," Teagj said between spoons of stew, looking significantly at the ruddy-faced man.
"Well, we hadn't asked the first time we told him." Ombyr shrugged, pulled a chunk of meat off the skewer and popped it into his mouth, then sucked his fingers clean. "Said I'd ask, and I have. Not my problem if he doesn't like the answer." He stood, ambling over to where Jomar stewed. Ombyr crouched next to the shorter man, settling a large hand on his shoulder. Their conversation was short and sharp, ending with Jomar bursting to his feet and stomping out of the room.
Grenwin stood, sighing. She walked over to Wyck, interrupted his conversation with a peculiar woman wearing a carved weirwood mask.
"Wyck, I need you to get a couple of people and make sure Jomar doesn't do anything stupid." She filled him in on the details, the man listening intently.
He thumped a fist over his heart, "Aye. We'll keep an eye on him." He stepped quickly, making his way out of the room as he pulled his tablet off his belt.
She wondered if she'd have to pay for a victory with his life, one day. Grenwin hoped she never had to find out.
Grenwin stayed in the room for a short while longer, getting a feel for how the clans were feeling broadly. She was interested to find that despite how unprepared they'd been for Kazui's appearance, most everyone had confidence in the army to handle it. Though, much of that talk was on how Maia had shouted the fearsome creature down, sending it out of town with its tail tucked between its legs. Some thought she was controlling it like a skinchanger, others that she'd made some bargain. However they thought it had come about, they believed Maia had some kind of control over it, given how docile it had behaved.
A few people mentioned how fearlessly the army had responded, as if they'd somehow been immune to the shock of it all. After the butchery of the night before, they were tired and numb, falling back on training that hadn't ever accounted for giant lizards. There was nothing fearless about it, Grenwin felt. Regardless, more and more people were speaking of joining up, and she thought they'd be having a swell of untrained warriors they'd have to sort out.
She made her goodbyes and left the lodge, finding dusk had fallen outside. Kazui was conspicuously missing from the crowded plaza, as was Maia. Grenwin had no idea where Ygdis had gone, and so she walked to the freedmen's quarter alone. The air had cooled from the high of the day, filled with the scents of outdoor cooking and woodsmoke. She meandered through the groups of people, idly listening to the chatter. A slight breeze had picked up, blowing south over the river and sending the leaves of the heart tree rustling as she passed nearby.
Grenwin approached the long hall Maia had carved out of the earth, motifs of stone shaped like vines and leaves intertwining with the wood of the walls. The doors facing the village had been propped open, revealing the diverse group within. She garnered looks of gratitude and suspicion in equal measure as she stepped inside, searching about for Ellir's distinctive features.
An exceptionally tall and willowy man approached her, bowing his head and refusing to meet her eyes. He spoke with a strange and musical accent, "Would it please the general to share what she desires?"
"Do you know where Ellir is?" She asked, adding, "Look me in the eyes, man."
He did so, turning to point down the length of the hall without moving his head. "She is there."
"Good man," She clapped him on the back, making her way around the crowd gathered by the hearth.
The tall fellow watched her go, sitting with a broad coppery-skinned man, tending to an incomplete braid of black hair.
Grenwin found Ellir towards the hall's rear, guiding a small group of women as they whittled small blocks of wood. The girl was sitting nearby, back to the wall and watching the room with wide eyes. There was a distance between her and the others, and Grenwin noticed wary and sometimes hostile looks being directed at the girl.
Walking up to the white-haired woman, she said, "Ellir, I can take her now. Thank you for watching over her."
Ellir seemed relieved, "Good. She's not very welcome here, though nobody has been able to tell me why. She's had dinner, she seemed to like the turnips."
Nodding, Grenwin moved to crouch next to the girl, who watched her approach warily. "Hello again." She said a little awkwardly. "Remember how I promised to take care of you?"
The girl blinked at her, reached over, and took her hand.
"Well, let's get you out of here, then." Grenwin lamely finished as the girl rose to her feet. She latched onto Grenwin's arm, pulling her upright.
Grenwin led her out of the hall, noting the various expressions of relief among the freedmen as she took the girl away. The tall man even gave her a thankful nod as they passed.
Once they were out of the hall, the girl seemed to relax. As they walked to Grenwin's home, the girl pointed out everything that caught her interest. Grenwin told her what things were called in their tongue, the girl seeming to absorb the information. They passed a new construction, a tall conical building with windows set high up on the roof. It was plainly one of Maia's works, though the contents remained a mystery.
As she opened the door to her house, Grenwin heard a familiar soft snoring from within. Sighing to herself, she took off her boots and set them by the door, next to a smaller pair.
The girl watched her, mimicking her and leaving her boots as well.
Grenwin gave her an encouraging pat on the head, taking her hand and leading her to the sitting area and the source of the noise. As Grenwin suspected, Maia had snuck in and buried herself in the floor cushions.
The girl looked confused, sitting off to the side. She pointed at Maia, then put her hands on either side of her head and pulled them outward.
Quietly, Grenwin told her, "Yea, she only does that to bad people. She's harmless, watch." Grenwin crept over to the sleeper, crouching next to her.
"Maia!" She called softly, reaching over to nudge the winged girl. "Hey, Maia. Wake up."
With a snort, she sat bolt upright. "I'm away! Awake!" Maia blinked mismatched green and blue eyes, noticing Grenwin. "Oh, hi. I was going to wait for you, but I fell asleep. You should know that channeling will really take it out of you."
"I can see that. I'll not keep you up for long, I was just bringing the girl back to keep an eye on her."
Maia yawned, looking past her at the girl. "Oh, hello you."
The girl cocked her head, provoking a sigh from Maia.
"I'm starting to hate language barriers," She grumbled to Grenwin. "Has she eaten yet?"
Sitting next to her, Grenwin gave her a pat on the back. "Ellir said she had dinner. She liked the turnips."
"Great!" Maia cheerily said, followed by another yawn. "What do you say we get her settled and get some sleep?"
The girl gave her own quiet yawn, looking like she was about to fall over and sleep on the soft cushions.
"Was thinking that," Grenwin agreed. "I'll just bring us some blankets and we can sleep here." She stood, moving past the kitchen to a linen closet. She gathered her two spare fur blankets, moved over to the bedroom to get the third. When she returned, the girl had snuggled up to Maia, the winged woman singing a quiet lullaby. Maia seemed unsure of herself, looking to Grenwin for aid.
Grenwin laughed softly, wrapping them up in warm furs. She drifted off as Maia sung. She dreamt of her mother, singing soothingly as she tended to Grenwin's welts and bruises. She dreamt of brutal training with her elder sister under their mother's watchful eye, and she dreamt of those eyes turning away from her shame.
Maia woke her in the morning, and they got the girl ready for the day. The girl had rested well, judging by her vibrant countenance at breakfast. They brought her through the kitchens, letting her try anything safe that caught her eye. She'd assembled a plate of roast tubers and boiled turnips by the time she was satisfied, and they sat together in the morning sunlight outside.
All the while, the girl hadn't spoken a word. She seemed to understand what they said but was either unwilling or unable to speak. When asked her name, she shook her head, as if she didn't know what it was.
"We should find you a name," Maia gently told her. "Would you like that?"
The girl thought about it, nodding slowly.
Maia considered, "How does Amy sound?"
The girl shook her head quickly.
"Maybe you're more of a Pamela?" Maia tried again, the girl shaking her head harder.
"She needs a good name, not one you just thought of." Grenwin offered, studying the flighty girl. A name came to mind, and Grenwin smiled at the private joke. "May we call you Laine? It is my mother's name, and her mother's mother's name. It would be a good fit for you, I think."
The girl considered, nodding slowly.
Grenwin's hand was taken up by Maia, the small woman looking at her with pride on her face. "Thank you. You've never mentioned your mother before."
"She is nothing to me, and I am nothing to her." Grenwin quietly told her, each word laden with venom. "She made that well known. Her name is a good one, though, and deserves another chance. Like how she," Grenwin nodded at the girl, "may as well be having her first nameday with us. It fits."
Maia hugged her, surprisingly strong for the size of her arms. "That's very thoughtful of you, and I'm sorry you had a shit mother. She has nothing to do with us, so let's just enjoy the moment, yeah?"
Grenwin nodded, hand idly stroking one of Maia's wings. The feathers were warm under her touch, and she enjoyed how they seemed to curl around her fingers as they passed.
"Yea. Nothing to do with us," Grenwin echoed.
They ate breakfast, Maia unwilling to move from where they sat. Grenwin found herself telling them stories of her life in the bear clans, her elder sister, and the pranks they would pull around the village. Her thoughts inevitably wandered back to the last time she had met her mother, trying to warn her about the Others. Her mothers words had cut deeper than her knife that day. Once she'd been exiled, her sister had helped Grenwin escape alive, refusing to give her a quick death.
Grenwin had hated her then, hated that dead stare as her sister physically dragged her through the forest, ignoring all of her pleas for mercy. Now she felt thankful for her sister's stubbornness, for giving her another chance to live.
Idly, she wondered what her mother was doing. Raiding, probably.
Laine grinned, spear held outstretched before her, gesturing around the carnage. A storm of flames danced before her, the wood and thatch village now a pyre. Her warriors roamed freely through the burning settlement, searching for stragglers. Most still rode atop their bears, each taller than three men at the shoulders. She watched in satisfaction as a bear pawed at a pile of rubble, easily sifting through the charred remains of a home. The rider hopped down, dragging a coughing woman out. He checked her for anything of value, then stepped aside. The confused woman sat, unaware of the massive snow bear leaning its muzzle down to sniff at her. The rider barked something, and those great jaws opened and snapped shut over her. A stream of red poured from between the bear's fangs. Another bark and the bear lifted its head to the sky, swallowing the waist and legs whole.
"Look at that." Laine told her guest, crouching in the snow. "Did you see how much time she had to get away?"
A wet cough answered her, something wet spraying the side of her face.
Sighing in exasperation, Laine turned and grabbed her companion's beard, prompting a pained grunt. He hung upside-down in her bear's jaws, and Laine luxuriated in the flavor of his lifeblood. A single flex of a muscle was all that kept this man from joining the Gods, though he was clearly already halfway there.
"I thought you called yourself the Antler-king. Was this truly all it took? One small raiding party and look, all your home is afire. Look." She wrenched his beard, his eyes flying open and bulging.
He was weeping, Laine noted. She saw no anger, no will to continue the fight, only resignation. He wasn't even dead, and she'd been well within stabbing distance. The Antler-king was seeing the truth of things, she thought.
She turned her back to him, releasing his beard with disgust. "Weak, to the end. We'll leave nothing for the Others. It's the lea-"
Laine stumbled, grunting at the sudden pain in her back. Behind her, the Antler-king chuckled weakly.
"You fuck!" Laine screamed at him, hand finding the handle of the knife buried in her shoulder. She left it there for the moment, whirling and taking the man's hair in a rough grip. Dropping her spear, she struck him hard across the nose. "You! Didn't! Even! Kill! Me!" She shouted her fury, punctuating each word with a strike more brutal than the last. With a mental command, her bear obediently opened his jaws, letting the savaged body roll to the bloody snow. She spat on the Antler-king's corpse. "Others take you, ya shit!"
With a final kick, she retrieved her spear, wiping it down and inspecting it. It was wearing hard, and this battle had pushed it near to breaking. She would need to replace it, soon. Checking over the corpse, she found he wore a long wooden knife at his belt. She laughed at it, imagining how desperate the Antler-clans had become to resort to wooden knives.
It had a fine balance in her grip, to her surprise. She sliced through the air experimentally, listening to the hum of a very sharp blade. She stabbed the Antler-king's body, finding little resistance. She stabbed again to make sure, satisfied. She tried to bend the blade, had her bear try to smash it, but it remained in one piece. A spear made in this fashion would be a worthy replacement, she reckoned.
Laine admired the strange blade, wiping it clean. "I wonder who made you," She said to herself, inspecting the markings on the blade and sheathe. It seemed as though a fine black thread had been inlaid into the wood, forming the suggestion of vines and leaves. There was a small round mark, clearly two small wings on either side of a slender tapering tower.
Hadn't she heard something about a new Queen-Beyond-the-Wall who had wings?
Whistling to herself and sliding the knife into her own belt, Laine climbed up the bear. It roared twice, then thrice more, calling an end to the raid. Soon, she'd have more details from her warriors, and they'd find the maker of these weapons.
The pack of bears ambled back into the night, leaving the flaming village behind them.