Wandering Foot

Wandering Foot's heart bled for the tiny child, Amelia, as her grandmother bundled her up to take her home after an afternoon spent listening to the old stories. They'd arrived just the day after the last hanging. Dickson's family was an old friend of his and he felt the loss keenly. It had been Richard who had told him, sneaking out that night so as to not alert anyone while the Betrayer's had still been setting up camp. He was grateful that White Flower had been there. She was always a source of calm in the darkest of storms although she too grieved the loss.

Richard hadn't told him everything of that Wandering Foot was certain. He'd been fidgety when he'd come to visit, the visit itself uncharacteristically short. Whatever it was he was hiding, Wandering Foot was sure it was probably best not said in the open. The trees had ears in the cities, and no one was more aware of that then Wandering Foot.

Now, he was waiting for Richard, who had come by earlier to let him know of a requested meeting between him and the Resistance Leader, Kane. He'd be back after dark when most had departed for their beds.

Seeing the lantern, he leant over to douse his pipe, kissed his wife, and rose with a raised hand to catch Richard's attention. He wore a heavy cloak that swirled around him as he came to a halt. He gave a quick bow to White Flower, before leading Wandering Foot away, toward the back of his property. Wandering Foot knew of the tunnels there and he presumed that was where he was headed.

Wandering Foot laughed as he always did, watching the monster of a man squeeze himself into the tight space that was the tunnels. Wandering Foot fondly remembered a time when both had fit with room to spare but those days were many seasons gone by now. Now they were greying and wiser.

Soon enough, he was being led into Kane's room and Richard excused himself. Wandering Foot took the offered seat and waited.

Kane was quick to the point as always. “Any news from the others?”

“I was in the North and have bad tidings. Adera has been taken prisoner and escorted to the mines. He has not been charged as a member of the Resistance. It came out his son has a magical gift and his whole family was charged as having unclean breeding.”

Kane swore. “Has a new leader been chosen?”

Wandering Foot shook his head. “There was never really a cell there to begin with and Adera was the only thing holding it together. The surveillance groups are fine but the group in the city has all but crumbled. There are perhaps two people who continue to feed information to surveillance but that's it...”

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Kane swore again but pulled himself into check. “Is there any other news?”

“There has been an increased number of guards in Pterian from what I saw, although there was no Lieutenant in residence when we departed, and I have heard from my brother and sister that it is similar in the West and South.”

Kane nodded thoughtfully. “You are aware of Willow?” he asked suddenly.

Wandering Foot tipped his head. “I know she exists,” he said with a confused frown.

“She's important to this whole organisation,” he waved his hand vaguely about his head. “And we have strong reason to believe she is in danger from the King,” Kane tapped his fingers against the side of his desk. “She was chosen by the guide.”

Wandering Foot focused, the surprise forcing him to pull himself up straight. “But it hasn't been seen in generations!?”

Kane nodded brusquely. “An elf confirmed it when Willow was a child. The Lieutenant has been in the city since the last new moon, and we are concerned he may have sensed something of the guide. We need you to get her out of here before she and it are noticed and get her to the Southern cell.”

Wandering Foot frowned. “Why is she not here? Usually, we speak with the person to best situate them.”

Kane broke eye contact, fingers tapping staccato. “Richard will explain the details. I have other matters to attend for the night. If all is met to your satisfaction, will you accept?” He spoke begrudgingly, as if asking was beneath him.

Wandering Foot had always disliked the man, seeing him as an incompetent snake but he pushed down his ire and replied in a clipped tone. “If all is in line with what I believe is correct, I will transport her as we have all the others.”

Kane nodded, seeming satisfied before taking a seat at his desk and effectively ignoring him. Wandering Foot took this as dismissal, and he left. Richard wasn't far and led him back, whispering a meeting time, location, and day.

Wandering Foot invited Richard for a drink once back at the tent and insisted Richard fill him in what had happened with Dickson.

“You remember Nianti?”

He nodded, “The foreseer, right?”

“We were looking for guidance and requested she come. She, her escort Gailia and her protector Neldin came and housed with Dickson. He volunteered when she hoped being closer to the city would help her see it more clearly.”

“She saw something and lost control...” Wandering Foot surmised, and Richard agreed sadly.

“She managed to run, but the others were not so lucky. She was asleep for a day after we found her. We couldn't find the camp where Dickson and his family were held. We've not heard from Gailia or Neldin either although Nianti is certain he survived.”

Wandering Foot raised his rough pottery cup, “May they find the Stream.”

Richard copied and added. “May it sing the names of those lost so we know they found their place.”

They tapped the glasses together and took a long swig. After his cup was empty, Richard rose and returned home and Wandering Foot returned to his wife, climbing in slowly so as not to wake her.

His heat was heavy, and he was concerned about what he was being asked to do but he trusted Richard and so he would learn all the facts before passing judgement. White Flower mumbled and rolled into his embrace, settling down with a sweet smile against his side.

Wandering Foot smiled in return and dropped a gentle kiss on her forehead. It took some time before sleep found him.