The Hollow Grove: The Companions [Book 2]

[37] A Ranger Returns

Anyu stared down at her father remembering why she left in the first place. His look of disapproval spoke volumes, but his voice resonated with patience even after nearly a decade of absence. She felt wary nonetheless. With her mother and brother gone, they only had each other. Anyu wondered if he realized that. I would not count on it, she thought. Once an arrow is loosed, you cannot take it back.

Unlike most of the other mountain tribes, the Tushkar never gave up the old way of living in large domed lodges constructed of aspen poles covered in animal hide. Inside one of the smaller lodges, Antorn lay there on a deer skin bed. Frinhyld, the elder Shaman and healer sat sewing up his arm with a needle and thread. Blood streamed down the wound, but to Anyu it looked superficial. He sipped mulled wine out of a tanker horn to dull the pain, but retained his senses. Spots of white littered his auburn beard and wrinkles spread from the corners of his eyes. It's him alright, she thought.

"So, the rumors are true," said Antorn. "My daughter is a Ranger."

"Yes, Father."

"You never did like the cold. Our Ranger is the last Kitherean," Antorn said.

Anyu nodded. "Clay Niven is the best Ranger I know. I'm here on his behalf."

"Can he...turn into a deer?" asked Antorn squinting. "I've always wondered."

Anyu stifled a grin. He talked around her, avoiding her real purpose for being here. It's actually kind of cute, she thought. "We don't really talk about it." She leaned in for a whisper. "I think it's sort of personal."

"Ah. Of course."  He took a long gulp from his horn and finally looked her over. It took a long while before he said, "Your hair is too long." He nodded knowing he found something at fault. "Going to get you killed."

Self consciously, her hand went to her braids that kept her bangs out of her eyes. The rest she allowed to blow wild behind her this day. She remembered to slip off her Ranger leathers and enter the village wearing only her traditional white furs. She didn't want to deal with that ridicule. Hells, if her hair was all he had to complain about that was fine. She wanted to tell him that she could say the same for his beard, but she let it go. To be hard on him now would be cruel after what he went through.

Yesterday, she loosed Rainseeker—it would take far too long for a Kudaki lizard to adapt to the mountain— and trudged up the Tushkar mountain range. The old trails and switchbacks never changed and she arrived at the village outskirts just before the nightfall. Once she saw the smoke coming from the village, she tore into a sprint through the deep snow. The invasion killed many of her people, but they were able to fend off the main assault.

"How many dead?" asked Anyu.

Antorn drank again. "Thirty three buried. More injured."

Anyu grit her teeth. "Komilaya. I'm sorry." She wondered if anyone she knew died. Before she asked, he said one name she did not expect.

"Jandal is with the gods."

She nodded. Jandal. Her brother's friend. The three of them played together as children and fished the icy lakes of the east. The two boys always competed in weapon games and had more fun than they should have.

"Held off the first wave alone. If not for him, I wouldn't be breathing and that's the truth by Adrunnah."

Frinhyld nodded in agreement. She produced a small blade and clipped the ball of thread free, finishing up Antorn's stitches.

"More wine," Antorn ordered in a growl to his caretaker.

Frinhyld nodded. Her venerable face told tales of patience and stillness of the mountains. She looked to Anyu and, with a grin, rolled her eyes in jest knowing that he meant well.