Wandering Foot

Wandering Foot had been fuming during his first meeting with Edward. Wandering Foot had not felt such uncontrollable anger since he was a young man and, recognising this, had requested a swift end to the meeting.

It was clear to everyone that Kane had not been telling the entire truth, if any truth at all. Even worse, it appeared Willow had been told even less. At this point, Wandering Foot seriously doubted if she was even a member of the Resistance, as they had led him to believe. Remembering the conversations with Richard, he recalled he had not confirmed or denied Willow's enrolment in the group. Her attitude the entire journey made it very clear Willow did not understand what was happening to her.

Going into the whole sorry affair, Wandering Foot had expected anger since, as far as he knew, Willow had refused the relocation order, but the outright fear was not something he could have predicted. She had reacted out of terror, attempting to hide both fear and injury from them with icy silences, uncooperative behaviour and anger. If she had been a Resistance member, she would have known that she was being evacuated. Relocation wasn’t overly common but not unheard of, and all members knew that if they were in any serious danger, the Resistance would make such arrangements. The look on her face when she had discovered she’d crossed a border was something Wandering Foot would never forget, the fear a natural reaction for someone who did not know people had been crossing borders illegally since the law had started.

From her reactions, Wandering Foot suspected she’d made sense of her situation by drawing on the nastier rumours that circulated in the city, behind closed doors and in whispers. Generally, such rumours were bandied about amongst the higher classes, amongst those whose families had originally owned land in Tanut, and while Willow was from an upper middle-class family, she’d been pending a marriage into such a family. She would have been exposed to such rumours repeatedly, especially given they well knew Richard had close ties to the Betrayers.

Wandering Foot could see her in such a situation. She’d never been confrontational, but she had a kind heart, and he was sure she had refused to participate in such things. Perhaps she had even defended his people in some quiet way. It broke his heart to think that such a loyal friend had been destroyed because of the lies of others, especially her own parents.

Wandering Foot couldn’t help remembering watching her play as a child with some of his own children. This small group had been the biggest protesters in the kidnapping plan, and they had not let him live the decision down until he’d had to take them aside and fill them in on the whole situation. They were all trustworthy enough to know not to share the information. While they’d understood the logic, they had by no means been willing converts.

Several of them had visited with Willow while in captivity, in a desperate attempt to get her to relax, to eat, to understand, but she had refused their offers frostily. It had hurt them deeply. Wandering Foot’s daughter had been a sobbing mess after her visit. They all knew she was uninformed and was unwilling to listen to anything they had to say now. They had not held it against her.

His grandson, Sticky Beak, had even lost his temper with her when she’d been starving herself and attempted to force feed her. It had been from a place of fear. He’d had a minor infatuation with Willow for many years and although she was promised to someone else, he still cared deeply for her as a friend. Regardless of the well-meaning intent, it had absolutely been the wrong way to go about showing it, and Sticky Beak found himself in hot water with pretty much everyone. He was young, only just an adult, but he had little subtlety to him.

Whenever Willow had looked at him, Wandering Foot had felt the guilt. Looking into her face, all he could see was the gap-toothed smile she'd given him as a little girl, running with his children. He’d not even been able to face the girl until it became obvious something was genuinely wrong. Her gaze screamed her recognition that she had trusted him once, but no more. Never again. Wandering Foot couldn’t blame her. From her point of view, they had kidnapped her, taken her against her will and taken her somewhere unfamiliar and scary. She’d not been informed, so how was she to understand her situation? By the time anyone had really understood this, though, irreparable damage was done, and she had refused to listen or speak to any of them.

At that thought, Wandering Foot ran a heavy hand down his face with an equally heavy sigh. The injuries she had sustained had certainly not helped things, and his foolish grandson had perhaps done just as much damage. Wandering Foot had assigned the boy solitary dish duty, although many still couldn't find it in themselves to forgive the boy. He had known far better than to let his temper get the better of him, and they had warned him repeatedly that Willow was lashing out in anger. Willow and Sticky Beak had shared a relatively close relationship, and this was the only reason they’d permitted him near the terrified woman. Wandering Foot and White Flower had hoped privately someone younger than her friends, someone perceivable as innocent of crimes, might be able to convince her to eat. They’d been at a loss on how else to proceed.

Wandering Foot waited alone outside of his caravan. He’d received word earlier that morning that Willow was being released from the medical wing and being situated into her own rooms. Given the state of things, Edward himself had set aside time to explain the situation, determined to ascertain just how much Willow knew of her situation.

Wandering Foot’s thoughts chased themselves around his head as he contemplated Willow. Wandering Foot had always marvelled at Willow's ability to forgive the wrongs done to her and he hoped this compassion would extend to him and his people now.

However, he had witnessed and heard firsthand of Willow's nature while under captivity and he found a growing respect for her. He’d always wondered how someone who appeared as sweet and naive as a newborn lamb had managed to survive both the lifestyle in the cities and the number of losses she had suffered. How was Willow not angrier after all The King had taken from her? Yet, she'd had no idea what was happening to her and had made her best guess and reacted, rashly perhaps, but in her mind, death was better than slavery. Any person who possessed the gumption and strength of mind to willingly continue to starve themselves, with food right in front of them and people pressing them to eat, to avoid such a fate had Wandering Foot’s respect.

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It was mid-afternoon when Wandering Foot raised a hand in greeting as Edward came forward although he didn't give his customary shout. How many of the lies was Edward in on? Just how many lies, and omissions had Wandering Foot been given?

“She'd have made a fine Betrayer,” he mused quietly to White Flower, who had appeared to collect some things. He set aside his pipe, moving to quickly help White Flower clean up around the camp. White Flower had easily agreed. Such perseverance was highly regarded to his people, strength, courage and determination had been the main reason his people had survived outside the cities as long as they had.

“Any parent would be honoured to accept such a young lady into the family,” White Flower had added to his thoughts. “Any of us would likely have reacted in a very similar fashion given the same situation.”

“She's an intelligent young woman,” Edward greeted, slumping into one of the faded green cushions placed around the firepit, “I’ve always known that given what all the reports on her have said, even when she was small. It’s the stubbornness that surprised me. But she’s very sure of her stance and views.”

Wandering Foot nodded. “I never knew her to be headstrong, but she's always been sure of herself, even as a child. She doesn't make claims she hasn't thought through.”

“It seems we have been grossly misled,” Edward stated as he eased himself into a sprawl, leaning back on one had as he reached for the proffered pipe with the other. After taking a long draw he added faintly, “She had not the slightest idea just what had happened until I explained it to her”

Wandering Foot shook his head. “That explains a lot. Richard asked me to explain their role in this to her once she was calm enough to listen, but she refused to speak to any of us. Even White Flower, who took care of her for the entire trip, barely heard a peep from her. We thought her a petulant child for the most part until she made some comment about prostitution.” Wandering Foot shrugged at Edward's confused look. “It is one of the rumours that surrounds my people in the East: some claim we kidnap people and sell them into prostitution and slavery in the other realms.”

Edward shook his head in frustration, taking another pull from the pipe before handing it back.

“She's refused to see things as we do. Made herself very clear on that front.” Edward sighed heavily, draining his cup. “I hadn't known that our sordid history was well known outside of the South. She set me to rights on that front. I wonder why the East never told me of such things, but perhaps they didn't know. It explains a lot,” he mused.

Wandering Foot agreed easily. “I knew nothing of such rumours. What is known?” He asked, curious.

Edward sighed again. “She knew of the Rabado incident, three generations ago and of the Mount Nifune fiasco of my predecessor.”

“Ah,” Wandering Foot acknowledged. “I remember the Nifune affair. Nasty business. It was one of the few times relations broke down between my people and the Resistance. We wanted no part in what we knew would be a massacre.”

“It explains why our growth has stalled so significantly in the other realms though. We expected it in the West, where the incident took place, but numbers are down everywhere. This might explain that.”

Wandering Foot nodded sagely, tobacco stuffed in his pipe he quietly lit it as he mulled over the problem. “People are not likely to join a group they believe sacrifices children.” He took several long puffs on the pipe, considering. “This is not all that has unsettled you?” He enquired.

“No,” he stated shortly, staring into the fire thoughtfully, swilling his second cup of drink around in his hands. “It seems I was lied to as much as you were,” he began, pulling a letter from his pocket. “Richard's letter,” he confirmed. “The one he had you deliver to me. I was under the impression she was at least aware of how important she was and considering the task. She knew nothing, Wandering Foot. She knew of the guide only because Richard told her of it the day before he had you kidnap her.”

“I knew she wasn't a member of the resistance, Wandering Foot, but I thought with a family like hers she'd at least be aware of the situation. Her father's the East's main correspondent and her maternal grandfather was a leader! Even Siobhan is a highly respected member of the Resistance as was her brother before his death. But the way she spoke of the Resistance and the wrongs it has committed could only be from someone who knows only what the city-folk know. Rumours and whispered stories!”

Wandering Foot lay a comforting hand on Edward's forearm as he took the pipe back. “We were both lied to,” he reassured. “We reacted in good faith on the word of trusted people. We are not entirely to blame.”

Edward shook his hand off and seemed to wilt into himself, drawing his hands close and hunching his shoulders. “I knew she was being kidnapped, Wandering Foot. I was under the impression she was just unwilling to relocate due to her upcoming wedding. Y’know, she didn't even mention it to me in her protests? She's been protecting the magical children the people are too afraid to bring to us.”

Wandering Foot sat back. “How could you sanction such things? The kidnapping of anyone is reprehensible!”

Edward shrugged uncomfortably, “I was led to believe that she was wilfully putting herself in danger, regardless of her importance. I was led to believe her to be a shallow person who only wished to delay the transport until after her wedding. After speaking with her I know differently of course but it seemed the right course of action at the time.”

Wandering Foot nodded his understanding, but his disapproval was palpable. He held his pipe steady in his teeth as he reached in with a stick to shift the tobacco about, gingerly trying to prevent a stray spark. White Flower would castrate him if he set fire to the camp.

“All we can do is make amends. I trust you will attempt to explain my people's involvement. I feel it might be best if we vacate. It might be easier for her to feel safe if there are fewer people, she can hold responsible. We do not want her to feel more threatened than she must already feel, and our presence would contribute to that.”

Edward looked around at the encampment with concern. “Are you sure? You've travelled a long way and I'm sure your people are exhausted.”

Wandering Foot nodded heavily, tapping out his pipe and burying the cinders under some dirt. “The city isn't too far, and we can rest there. I'll likely meet Willow again at some point and I'll make my formal apologies then. Besides, the longer it takes for us to reach Steinvald the more potential for suspicion from The King. If you could have a note sent to Richard, detailing my… displeasure at this situation, I'd be grateful.” The dark look in Wandering Foot's features was unmistakable. Displeasure was the politest way of describing his feelings.

Edward agreed and rose to shake his hand firmly. “Thank you for your understanding my friend.”

Wandering Foot raised a hand in farewell before turning to some young men nearby. It was time to pack down.