18
"Welcome back."
Únik found herself only in her underclothes as she tried to sit up. Her first thought fell to her clothing and she accepted her Shalbruk jacket from the silver birch skinned fingers. As her eyes came into focus, she held the jacket to her chest. Smacking her lips, she realised she needed water and Shihiri's hand reappeared holding a water skin.
She took a long, cool drink as she tried to regain her senses. The last thing she remembered was of Thesik holding onto her, but it couldn't have been her long dead daughter. Able to see more clear, she tried to gain an idea of where she was. She felt a throbbing pain at the back of her neck, reaching up and finding something stuck there.
"No. Leave it on. For a little while, anyway." Shihiri pulled her hand away from her neck. "Now you and her have matching scars. Well, almost matching."
"What happened?" Taking another drink, she put the water skin aside and wrapped the jacket around herself. "Was I hurt?"
"You were bitten, by a fly. Nasty." Turning, Shihiri picked up Únik's breaches, passing them across. "I had to lance the bite before it got infected. You've been running a fever for nearly two days."
She remembered, now. The almost incomprehensible heat that had ravaged her body, but also the cold. The weather must have turned at the right time. The luck of the Patrons falling her way, for once. She assumed the thing on the back of her neck was a poultice made by Shihiri. It felt tight and warm against her skin.
Looking around, she noted that a little camp had sprung up where she lay. Three makeshift lean-to's, created from thin tree branches, bushes and leaves surrounded a small, welcoming fire. Now that her fever had broken, Únik appreciated that warmth. That and the warmth of Barsa, laid at her side. His large paw lifted, dropping onto her hand as he cocked his head to the side, one ear upright, the other flopping against his head.
"You've been looking after me, eh, boy?" She rubbed Barsa's chest and tried to rise, Shihiri reaching out and supporting her. Barsa gave a couple of concerned, small howls, getting to his own feet. "Two days? And you've scarred me? Any sign of our pursuers?"
"Nothing. But the longer we stay in one place, the greater chance we'll be found." As Únik struggled to pull on her breaches, Shihiri pointed towards Hatyara, sleeping beneath one of the lean-to's. "She wouldn't let me move you somewhere better covered. Said you were too ill. I hate to admit it, but she was right. She stayed by your side almost the entire time. Hardly lifted her hand from you in the worst moments."
"Does that mean she's shown herself to you, now?" Her head still swimming, Únik crouched for the water skin. As she drank, she remembered something Shihiri had said. "'Matching scars'? So, you've seen hers?"
"I've seen it. The girl's been branded. Seven pointed star. The sign of Star Harbour. She's not going to be a consort, or whatever it was she said, she's going to become property. A slave in all but name." Looking over to the Ice-Kin, Shihiri shook her head. "But, no, I still don't trust her. I can't explain it. There's just ... something not right. Like she's not telling us something."
Únik understood that all too well. She had felt the same thing. She, however, had dismissed it as part of Hatyara's spiky personality. Her arrogant attitude not deeming them worthy of knowing everything. Now that Shihiri mentioned it, though, it did prod her curiosity a little.
"I take it you've scouted the area?" Únik looked at the sleeping Hatyara one more time before turning her attention back to Shihiri. "What can we expect?"
"Arthid was right about all the abandoned places. I've found two wrecks of villages within walking distance and what looks like a city, across the way, nearer the mountains." Moving to one of the lean-to's, Shihiri picked up her bow and quiver. "I say avoid them all, best we can. Right now, you need food. Wake her up while I go hunting. Oh, and don't get bitten again, eh? I almost had an emotional reaction to the thought of losing you."
Giving a cackling laugh, Shihiri set off beyond the camp and, before Únik could say anything, disappeared. Even though the Fae had killed people, almost in cold blood right before Únik's eyes, she could do nothing but like the flighty, effusive Shihiri. The girl had infectious lust for life for almost everything she did. A quality Únik envied.
With Barsa sticking so close to her, as though not wishing a single inch to come between them, Únik moved over towards the Ice-Kin, crouching beside her as the Ūtharan girl slept on her side, back to the fire and Únik. With a gentle hand, Únik moved the girl's brilliant white hair aside and looked at the branding upon Hatyara's neck.
It didn't seem as raw as it had before. Now only a blackened, raised symbol burned into the ice-blue skin. Únik couldn't imagine this girl, this woman, becoming the slave of anybody. Too opinionated, too arrogant and forthright. Anyone who thought they could own Hatyara were in for a difficult time. Or Hatyara was. Slave owners accepted personalities like Hatyara's on very rare occasions.
Touching the Ice-Kin's shoulder, she gave her a little shake. At first, Hatyara only groaned, curling her legs up to her chest. Another shake, a little more vigorous, caused Hatyara to jump, turning around and glaring at the hand that had dared to touch her. Únik felt a chill rush down her spine at that glare, those almost-white eyes looking as though they could kill with a glare alone.
"Únik!" The look in the eyes softened and Hatyara launched upwards, wrapping her arms around Únik's neck, catching the poultice and causing a sharp intake of breath from Únik. "I didn't think you would survive. The Fae said you were over the worst, so I slept."
"I'm fine. Mostly." Únik wore a wry smile as Hatyara pulled back, rearranging her dress and hair, before lifting her nose in the air. "Shihiri said you looked after me?"
"Yes. Well, someone had to." Hatyara stood, avoiding Únik's eyes. She reached out a hand to stroke Barsa's head. "That girl kept running off doing Patrons-knew-what. The damned Fae can't sit still for a second."
Turning her back to Únik, Hatyara moved towards the fire, bending down to wood pile and throwing more sticks into the flames. The Ice-Kin's hair had fallen back into place, covering the branding. Únik had wanted to ask Hatyara about the scar, before, but it didn't seem like something the Ice-Kin cared to even acknowledge.
Chewing her bottom lip, trying to think whether it overstepped her bounds, or whether Hatyara would appreciate it, Únik considered talking to the Ice-Kin about that scar. Shihiri thinking it showed ownership, like a slave collar, had made Únik wonder about what was best for Hatyara. Continuing on, or leading her elsewhere. Somewhere safe. Somewhere free.
"I never asked before, it was nothing to do with me, but, that branding? On your neck?" Standing beside Hatyara, feeling the warmth of the fire creep into cramped muscles, Únik sensed Hatyara stiffen. "It still is nothing to do with me, I know, but something Shihiri said has me worried."
"You can ask what you wish." Hatyara gave a stiff, sidelong glance at Únik, her hands clasped tight to her waist. Then her features softened and a hand touched Únik's arm. "Though I may not be able to answer."
"Shihiri thinks it's a sign of ownership. Like a slave." The words tripped from Únik's mouth in one rush. She felt awful suggesting it, but she needed to know how Hatyara felt about it. "If it is, you don't have to go to Star Harbour. Patrons bugger 'em! I will not take a girl, a woman, towards slavery. I won't!"
"It's not a sign of slavery." Hatyara's voice became soft and she turned towards Únik, reaching for both of Únik's hands. "It is a sign of my promise, ice-bound by ancient magic. The branding will remain until I fulfil my promise and then it will disappear, like ice melting in the sun."
"So, as soon as you give yourself to the king, as her consort, you'll no longer have the branding?" Únik looked down into bright eyes that now looked so sad. It seemed clear it was not what Hatyara wanted, but, if nothing else, the girl had a sense of duty.
"As soon as I fulfil my promise. And I promise you, I go to Star Harbour willingly. I am no-one's slave." Hatyara's eyes turned away and, after a second, her body followed, hands falling from Únik's.
Somehow, those words did nothing to ease Únik's fears. Hatyara still held something back. Something that worried her enough that her normal, fierce and uncompromising exterior could not hide. Something that saddened the Ice-Kin.
-+-
Shihiri returned carrying a pair of pheasants, caught in the brush land that surrounded them. After plucking and preparing, the birds now sat, impaled upon sticks, above the flames of the fire. Únik's stomach rumbled at the smell of the cooking meat and she couldn't wait to eat. With an empty stomach after too days of illness, she could almost taste the birds as they cooked.
"I know you're not at your best, but we should move as soon as you think you have enough strength." Looking up to the sky, Shihiri turned the stakes above the fire. "I think the weather is going to turn. It'll be good to hide our tracks."
"We should wait until Únik is feeling better." Hatyara, as expected, disagreed with the Fae. "We'll make little progress with one of us unwell. We have time. I doubt, very much, that our pursuers will find us now."
"Your pursuers have shown that they have a way of finding you." Emphasising the words towards Hatyara, Shihiri wrinkled her nose. "I'd rather we keep moving, however slowly."
Only awake for a few moments and already Únik felt as though caught between two bickering children. She wondered how the two had gotten along while she had lain, suffering her fever, and felt glad she had not had to be the diplomat between the two sides.
She could see both sides of this argument. Her legs still felt a little shaky, her vision not as clear as she would like and the pain in her neck still bothered her. Travelling, under those circumstances, did not feel appealing. Staying where they were didn't feel like a good idea, either. Shihiri was right, though they had lost their pursuers, more than once, they always managed to catch up, one way or another.
It seemed losing their Kannai tracker had done little to slow them down and, every time Únik saw a slight change in the weather, or saw a pack of birds fly from the ground in the distance, it worried her that their pursuers had found them again. Únik doubted she could help in a fight against warriors. Against a Storm Mage, like Hatyara's sister, Únik knew, for certain, that she would feel less than useless.
"I'm fine. We can finish this food and set off." By her estimation, they had around five hours of daylight left to them. Less, this far west at this time of year. "I can rest often if I need to, but sitting still will do none of us any good."
Hatyara looked as though she were about to protest, but clamped her mouth closed, glaring at Shihiri. Únik didn't understand the Ice-Kin. At any other time, she would have prodded them onward, urging them to get to Star Harbour. Now, she cautioned against travelling. Únik doubted it due to concern for her health.
"Who is 'Thesik'?" After long moments of silence, during which Shihiri began to pass around chunks of meat from the pheasants, Hatyara gave Únik a side-long glance as she ate. "You called me that, several times, during your fever."
Únik's face began to heat up as she dipped her head. In the throes of the fever, she had spoken of her daughter. She remembered thinking about Thesik, but not talking about her, though in truth she doubted she would ever remember most of those two days. Únik's eyes flickered towards Barsa, sat upright awaiting the chance of food. She tossed him a piece of pheasant and he caught it, mid-air.
"No-one. She's no-one." She accepted another piece of meat from Shihiri and caught a knowing look in the Fae's eyes.
"Was it your daughter?" The Ice-Kin continued, ignoring Únik's obvious discomfort. "I'm glad it gave you solace during your fever, but I am not your daughter. I am not a child. The sooner you understand that, the better. For you and for me."
Únik jumped to her feet, biting a large mouthful from the meat in her hand. She stared down at the Ice-Kin and wondered how much of this attitude was all for show, or whether Hatyara really did not know how to keep her mouth closed. She continued to glare at the Ice-Kin, but Hatyara's face did not change. The pompous lifting of the nose irritating Únik.
Tapping her leg, she called Barsa to her and then turned away from the fire. She walked away from the Ice-Kin and her questions, loaded with bitterness, her statements, expecting no recourse. Once again, she reconsidered her sense of responsibility towards the girl. The woman. She cursed herself and the Patrons for making that same mistake over and over.
She felt Barsa licking her fingers and, after taking another bite of meat, passed the rest to the dog. Stroking his head, she realised she hadn't fed him as much as she should. The dog would never complain, though, of course. She still felt awful that she had not thought of him more. No wonder he had started becoming closer to Hatyara. She showed Barsa more affection and attention than Únik.
"Go. Hunt." Throwing her arm up, she sent Barsa bounding out into the waist high wild grasses and bushes.
She didn't know if he'd catch anything, as several birds took flight at the great hound's approach, but, at least it would allow the dog a little freedom that she had held from him since leaving the wastes. Every so often, she saw his head appear, up over the ears of grass, before disappearing again, only to reappear twenty feet away in another direction.
"In fairness to the Ice-Kin, and I hate being fair to her, I was also thinking who 'Thesik' was." Appearing at Únik's side, Shihiri handed Únik another piece of meat. "I knew you'd give yours to the dog."
"The difference is, you only thought about it." She dipped her head again. Even after all these years, she still found it difficult to even think of her daughter. "And if you had said something, you'd have chosen your words with more care."
"I don't know about that! I can be gobby when I don't watch what I'm saying." Shihiri laughed and bent down, running a hand over the ground at her feet.
Únik's eyes followed the Fae's hands as she picked up something from the ground, dusting off the soil, shaking off the excess. At the same time, Barsa came running back towards them, bouncing through the long grass until he came to a stop before them, dropping something at Únik's feet. She bent down to pick it up, Barsa's tail wagging in furious motion behind him.
It was a bone. A long, thin, sun-bleached bone. Looking to the side, she saw the object that Shihiri had picked up and she felt colour drain from her face. Shihiri held a skull, the sightless eye sockets glaring at her. Taking another look at the bone in her hand, she dropped it in horror and Barsa dived upon it, chewing.
"These are the bones of people? What is this place?" She looked around and saw other white objects all around them. She stepped backwards and something cracked, giving way underfoot.
"Bones of people, yes." With the hand holding the skull, Shihiri indicated all around them. "I've found dozens of piles as I've scouted. I'd say there are hundreds, thousands of skeletons around here."
"Was it a war? Is this a battlefield?" Únik moved backwards even more, watching her feet to ensure she didn't step on any more bones.
"If it was a war, it was one-sided." Dropping the skull to the ground, Shihiri dusted off her hands as though she hadn't held part of someone's body. "I haven't found a single weapon. Not even an arrow head. Even the tidiest of armies, and there's no such thing, by the way, would have left something. Broken swords, poleaxe heads, flails ripped from chains. There's nothing. This was a slaughter. Not a battle."
Únik could feel her innate Uriok superstitions rise within her. The sense of foreboding. That they trespassed upon something they should never have seen. She felt a strong urge to run away. Images of the skeletons of the dead, rising up to gain revenge against those who desecrated their open graves.
She knew it was only her fears that made her tremble. As everyone knew, dead was dead. Skeletons could not rise. There was no such thing as ghosts, or spirits. Vampires and zombies did not exist. Yet, as she made careful steps back towards the camp, she couldn't help but feel they needed to leave this place as fast as possible. Recovering from her fever be damned.