Wandering Foot

All the cities in Amdas were unique in the way they’d been built but Wandering Foot could see why his sister had been so willing to settle in Steinvald. It was a city of wide buildings, wide roads, and wide-open spaces. The buildings were an eclectic mismatch of stone, iron and wood, heavy set but wide with space between each building for a small garden. The roads were wide enough for even the Betrayer’s largest caravans, although they were unusual in the cities. Steinvald was the largest of the cities, although not the most populous.

Because of the small population, though, many more people could survive comfortably. Things were changing of course, good food meant more children, but it was a distant thought many didn’t want to confront yet. Who was Wandering Foot to break that illusion?

As soon as camp had been made, Wandering Foot and White Flower ambled into the city with a loose group of others, breaking apart quickly in search of settled loved ones. Wandering Foot’s sister, Hop Skip, had settled as a young adult, just sixteen, with her husband, Evans. She’d taken on the name Mia, and they’d had a wonderful life and two children, but illness had taken her some years back before her time. Even now Wandering Foot made sure to keep the familiar connection alive. Looking into his sister’s daughter's face brought him more and more joy, especially as her grandchildren were born.

It took some time before he noticed the furtive, almost angry stares following him and his wife as they made their way through town. Wandering Foot shared a confused glance with White Flower but decided to keep mum until they were alone. It was an awkward walk; the eyes seeming to bore into their flesh. They both breathed a sigh of relief, allowing tight muscles to relax a little, White Flower allowing her white-knuckled grip on his arm to relax.

Evans lived on a small property, large enough to feed himself, his son and his widowed daughter and her children, but not so large they could sell enough for an impressive deal of profit. He was an unselfish man, not yet beaten down by life as many others of their age. It was something of a miracle, Wandering Foot would often reflect. Living in the cities was no effortless thing where survival was more about luck than anything else.

When Evans opened the door, his tightly drawn face broke into a bright grin and with a small, jovial laugh he pulled Wandering Foot in by the shoulders for a tight hug, his laughter vibrating comfortingly through his chest. Wandering Foot stumbled backwards when he was released in favour of White Flower, laughing right along with Evans.

Greetings done, he invited them in. They settled at the kitchen table, catching up, his children nearby, his grandchildren playing happily by the fire under their mother’s watchful eye.

Stolen novel; please report.

Things grew solemn when Evans said softly, “Be careful in the city. Tensions have been rising.”

Wandering Foot frowned, sharing a look with his wife. “We noticed people glaring at us on our way here. Why is this? What have we done?”

Evans shook his head. “It’s nothing you have done. With the rising number of guards residing in the city, not to mention the Lieutenant, people are on edge,” he flapped his hands helplessly. “Given your people's history with The King, people are reattributing their anger. You're an easier target.”

White Flower slumped a little, sighing. “But how is it our fault? Once our ancestors were not needed, The King turned us free. None have had contact with him since.”

Evans nodded slowly. “We know this. They know this logically, but they are afraid. They cannot attack the Lieutenant, so they attack you. For now, I think it best if you all travel in groups.” She held up a soothing hand to stop the protests. “I’m not saying they will attack your people, but I don’t think it’s worth taking the risk either.”

Wandering Foot took his wife’s hand. “We will warn the others and make the necessary suggestions. We don’t know the situation well enough to judge for ourselves.”

That said, Wandering Foot and White Flower decided to leave and meet up with others in town. The others were surprised when they edged them back to camp a little early. Once back at camp, Wandering Foot called a meeting to set up a guard for the perimeter, starting a whisper campaign to get the message out to travel in groups wherever possible.

The following day, the people moved to set up their stall. It was an easy way to get extra supplies, by swapping them for things the people in the cities had great difficulty getting a hold of normally. White Flower was a permanent fixture in the stall, but Wandering Foot decided to join that day to assist with set up. The stares continued; Wandering Foot grew fidgety whenever he noticed.

For the most part though, things continued as they normally did, if a little slower than was typical. Wandering Foot felt himself relaxing as the day wore on, smiling happily at the children intermingling and playing nearby. He even stopped twice to tell stories in one corner of their section, enjoying the rapt attention the onlookers gave him.

Things were wrapping up for the day, when an ear-splitting scream broke the area following by the yells of angry children. Several of the adults went running and Wandering Foot joined in time to see one of his own members ripping her own child out of the hands of one of the Steinvald residents, screams of how dare you flying.

Nasty, awful words flew, growing worse when Wandering Foot moved to try to placate the situation. Accusations flew, angers flared to the point Wandering Foot grew concerned that the Guard would intervene. He signalled to the others to dismantle the stall quickly, while he moved to separate the angry parties, picking up children in each arm as he did so.

“You know we had nothing to do with whatever it is that has you angry. But to take that anger out on a child? What possible way could you justify that?” Wandering Foot demanded, leading his people away, shooting an angry glare at the man who appeared to be leading the charge. “We have helped you in the past, Henry. We have shown nothing but kindness and respect and this is how you and your own repay us? With suspicion and anger?”

Wandering Foot shook his head, disappointed before turning and leading his people away.

Evans had been right.