The Winds of the Past [Rune Factory 4]

Chapter 70

A gentle tap on the door woke me from a sound slumber, then a voice called softly. “Avani? Leon? Are you awake? Breakfast will be ready shortly, if you wish to join us.” Then the sound of footsteps fading away.

Avani and I lay on our sides, curling into each other as we lay face to face with my arms around her. She didn’t quite awaken, I could see, but her sleep was disturbed enough that she curled up even more tightly, nestling her head under my chin and drawing her knees up between my own. I was hesitant to wake her, since I was sure she needed the rest, but I was equally certain that she needed food. So it was with mixed feelings that I caressed her cheek and whispered into her hair, “Avani? My Lady, it’s time to wake up. The others are waiting for us to join them for breakfast.”

She burrowed down a little deeper into my embrace, then she sighed. “Must we? I’m so comfortable like this, I don’t want to move.”

I gave her a gentle squeeze, and said, “I’m afraid so, love. You need to eat something. Perhaps we can find time for a nap this afternoon, though, before the meeting tonight.”

She sat up and stretched, and I rolled out of bed and grabbed the bag I’d packed. Rummaging around, I found one of the outfits I’d packed for her—a pretty, loose dress that slipped easily over her round belly—and brought it to her. She looked up at me and smiled in gratitude before slipping out of bed. We both dressed, then we went to join the others.

With the exception of a spat between Chanda and Dylas, breakfast was an enjoyable affair. Afterwards, Rishi reminded us that there would be a meeting that night. “I’ll call the tribe to gather this evening,” he said as we rose from the table. “Leon and Dylas, you will be welcome there, though I would suggest you attend merely as observers, for now at least, as you are unfamiliar with our ways. The meeting will include the evening meal and will be held on the village green. Avani and Chanda will know what time to be ready. I will be busy all day preparing for the meeting, and Sharmila will be busy overseeing the cooks and servants. Even though every family brings food to share, there seems to never be enough—most of us are farmers, and we have hearty appetites. So she will see to it that there is plenty for all who come.”

“How do you get word out?” I asked, curious about communications. Within the village would be no problem, I imagined, but what about all those who lived on the farms scattered across the adjacent hills?

Rishi smiled and gestured for us to follow him. Once inside, he said, “Go on out to the green. I’ll join you in a moment.”

The four of us—Dylas, Chanda, Avani, and I—headed out to the lawn in front of the house, and a few minutes later, Rishi rejoined us, guided by Sharmila. Behind him, a servant carried a massive, curved horn as from some gigantic beast. Rishi took the horn from the man, lifted the narrow end to his lips and, taking a deep breath, he blew, just as Avani clapped her hands over my ears, flattening them down. Covered as they were, though, I still heard the deep, resonant tone blasting from the horn in a series of short and long notes. When he lowered the horn, Avani removed her hands, and I could hear the echoes resounding through the hills all around us.

“The pattern of notes indicates the message,” Rishi said as he turned towards us, “while the tempo indicates the urgency or importance. The notes gave the message that I was calling the tribe to a meeting tonight at the evening meal, while the tempo indicated that the entire tribe should come—or at least all those who are able. In half an hour, I’ll repeat the message, then once more after that. Those who hear it will pass it along to any they meet, so if any somehow miss all three messages, they’ll still learn of it from a neighbor or relative.”

I thought that was a fairly clever way to communicate a message across such a wide area. In my youth, we had used runners to distribute urgent messages to those who live farther from the center of our town, or for delivering any urgent messages at all. But in a community such as this, and in such a climate and terrain, runners would have had great difficulty in travelling swiftly to deliver their messages in a timely fashion. They could teleport, but as that particular spell evidently required a lot of energy to cast even once, that seemed like an inefficient means of communication—especially in an emergency, when one might need that energy for other uses.