****
Rosalind woke as rays from the early morning sun poked
through the gaps in-between the boards of her hovel. Rosalind groaned as
she crawled out of her sleeping pack and straightened out her stiff back. She pulled her long red hair out of her face
and tied it behind her bed, and then stuck her head out to breathe the morning
air.
The ground was still frosty, even as spring began to
dawn. It always lasted late into the
year up in the Hill lands. All around
the Lainaird’s Tribe’s small encampment the bustle of daily life was
beginning. Shepherds were rounding up
their sheep, either to take out to the grazing lands or to pass off to the
drovers who would take them down into Thesta to trade in the markets there.
Others were seeing to the other livestock, cattle, pigs, and
goats. It was still too early in the
year to begin planting, so they would have to rely on animals and whatever food
they could hunt or gather from the countryside to subside on.
“Good morning Auntie Rosalind!” Melinda’s cheery voice rang out from across
the way. The bright young woman stepped
out into the crisp morning and stretched her arms out.
“Morning, Mellie.” Rosalind smiled back, hoping she wasn’t
blushing too badly. Her niece Melinda
was the daughter of her brother Garic, the former chief of their tribe, and
Sarah. Already a young woman, she looked
just like her mother did at that age, which made Rosalind ever more uncomfortable.
When Garic and his sons died of the Sweltering Sickness two
years ago, Rosalind became the acting chief until either she or Melinda had a
son who came of age. “How you sleep last
night? I hope Cuthbert didn’t keep you
up too late.”
Cuthbert Korlick was the son of one of their neighboring
tribes. He had been courting Melinda,
and if they wed and had children it would unite them into one. Such alliances were more important than ever
these days. The northern Hestens were
getting restless under Zentaran rule, and whenever that happened they started
looking to the Hills for conquest.
“Oh no, not too late.
He was a perfect gentleman.”
Melinda beamed a smile at her.
“But then, he’d have to be if he wanted to survive the night in the
middle of this lot.” She laughed and
gestured to the rest of the tribe as they went about their business. “Wouldn’t do to have a Korlick disrespect the
old chief’s daughter. They’d skin him
alive!”
Rosalind smiled at that, knowing it was true. Just as well though, she didn’t want Melinda
getting taken in and deflowered too soon, especially if an honorable marriage
wasn’t going to come out of it. Though
on the other hand, that might be just the thing that would make marriage inescapable.
“I’m sure they would, and should! You’re a fair lass and a good woman. You should be treated with respect! Not how they treat their ladies down there in
Heste. Or Zentara, or whatever they call
themselves these days!” While the
Zentaran conquest of Heste had brought a new era of peace between the northern
Hesten Lords and the Catabrian Tribes, the stories that began filtering through
about the alliance between orc and man, or rather, orc and women were
troubling. “Especially if you’re going
to be giving the Tribe its new Chief.”
“It could still be you, Aunt Ros. You’re still young enough.”
It was true, that at around thirty years old she was still
young enough to have a child, but it wasn’t likely. She just wasn’t ever interested in finding a
man and marrying. “Maybe, but I think
that ship has sailed. No one will want a
slice of old Rosalind when Pretty Mellie is still on the table.”
Rosalind smiled at her niece. She wasn’t bitter, it was the truth. Melinda was considered a great beauty with
her copper colored hair and fair skin.
Rosalind knew that she was also attractive, but she was already past her
prime. Her looks were setting, while
Mellie’s were still rising.
Her niece blushed at the compliment. “Even still, there’s still time for you to
find a man if you want one. Any one of
these brutes would be lucky to have you!”
“Ros! Ros! The beacon fires! The beacon fires are lit!” Black Pete, her father’s closest friend, came
running up to her. “Korlick is signaling
a Hesten army invading!”
“By the Abyss, so soon? It’s not even properly spring
yet!” She had hoped that they’d have at
least a couple more years before this happened.
Melinda paled at the news.
“What are we going to do? I have
to tell Cuthbert!”
Rosalinda placed her hand on Melinda’s shoulder and squeezed
it reassuringly. “Yes, do that. He’ll need to get back to his Tribe. After that it’s just like we always planned. I’ll get the men and move into the Rothge
Forest, you get the rest of the tribe and the livestock higher up in the
hills.” She smiled. “You can do this. Leave the damn Hestens to me.”
Melinda smiled and ran off, leaving Ros with Black
Pete. The old retainer looked grim. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this one,
Ros. This ain’t gonna be some summer
raid for booty and glory. I’m betting
they’ll be looking to try and conquer us again.”
“They’ve been trying that for hundreds of years to no
success. We drove them out before and
we’ll do it again.”
“Aye, but this time we may not be getting any help from
Thesta. They’ve got a treaty with the Zentaran Queen, and her son is the King
of Heste. What if they don’t come?”
Rosalind didn’t want to entertain that possibility. With Thestan help they could probably drive
the the Hestens out in a year. Without
it, it could be a decade long war of attrition.
“They’ll come, they have to. But
hopefully it won’t come to that. More
than one invasion has died in the Rothge Forest, we just have to make sure this
one does to.”
The Rothge Forest was dense with trees and the only approach
from Heste into the Hills. A narrow road
cut through it, making it a great ambush spot for the Tribes to raid the
Hestens whenever they invaded. The first
battle of any conflict was invariably fought there.
“Yeah, that’ll do Ros.
I’ll get the men rounded up.”
“Good man. We’ll meet
with the Korlicks and the Brannogs at Tillburg and move out from there. Oh, and be sure to send a riders to
Thesta. I hope it won’t come to it, but
we still need to ask.”
Pete nodded. “Will do
Ros. We’ll stop them! We’ve never let
them dogs put a boot on us before. I’ll
be damned to the Abyss if I’m the one who finally lets them get a hold of the
Hills.”
As Pete left, Rosalind returned to her hut. She grabbed her bow and spear, as well as her
leather shirt and vest. Her people were
never as well armed or armored as the Hestens, but that had never stopped them
before, and it wouldn’t stop them now.
