Faenella, Eganene
Sally’s house was situated just out of town. The sprawling two-story structure nestled in a clearing was accessible only by a footpath that led in from the back of the Market. From the outside, it appeared as a rich, merchant’s home, but passing across its threshold provided an entirely different perspective.
Fine, hand-sewn lace framed the windows and covered the tables, each piece having been lovingly stitched by a woman’s hands. Like the Inn, Sally’s had a large entry room, but instead of a bar, many comfortable chairs and sofas boarded the area in front of the fire. Small children were often in the corners, playing wooden flutes or small guitars. Others brought visitors drinks and snacks from the kitchen.
One such child opened the door for Carl when he knocked and led him to a loveseat. The boy was at most ten, with a fresh face and clean fingernails. He took Carl’s sword and brought him back a hot cup of tea spiced with whisky. There was no music today, but the fire crackled pleasantly and he felt his shoulders relax.
He was left alone for some time and his mind drifted. Sally had been good to him over the years and he had spent quite a few nights within her walls. Carl had known her sons for years now and did not relish the idea of confronting their mother about Anthony’s death. Hopefully, Richard was already back and had broken the news to her.
Carl didn’t think that Richard was her only child. Downstairs, there were a few younger girls with Sally’s coloring. The grieving mother wouldn’t be left alone. Several other woman and their children lived under her roof and could provide her solace.
One of these women entered. She was obviously with child and her long hair was curled. She took the chair next to Carl and crossed her legs neatly. The dress she wore was long and demure, except for the low neckline that afforded him an excellent view of her swelling chest.
Her voice was soft, “How is your tea?”
Carl flicked his eyes up to her face and she smiled. “Good. Good, thanks. I need to speak with Sally.”
The girl dipped her head gently. “Of course. It is a bit early in the day and the Madame is still sleeping. Is there a message I could give her when she wakes? Or would you like a rest yourself? You look as though you could use a soft bed and some warmth.”
It was a tempting offer. Sally ran one of the best establishments. The girls were clean and worked only when they wanted to work, making them the happiest ladies he had been with. Since they were allowed to keep their children in the building, there was always an atmosphere of home.
He shook his head, “Not today, unfortunately.”
The woman smiled, “Of course.”
Carl took another sip of his tea, enjoying the tingling sensation in the back of his throat. “I’ll wait for Sally. But if you could, can you wake her early for me? The matter is important.”
“Oh?” the girl asked, curious.
“Have you seen her son, Richard?”
The girl’s face became a cold mask. “I’ll tell her you are here, sir.” She stood and curtseyed. “Is there anything else I can get for you while you wait?”
“More tea and whatever you have to eat. I’m starving.”
The same child brought him a fresh cup of tea and a plate of bread and cheese.
Carl ate ravenously and washed it all down with spiked tea. He fed the fire from the bin of wood and sat back to wait. It was unusual for Sally to take so long, but these were unusual times. He didn’t buy the story that she was sleeping.
A few of the other girls said hello as they passed him. They were all decently pretty and their dresses looked soft. White and pink lace peeked from beneath their skirts and swirled about their ankles as they walked. Carl asked for more tea and tried to keep his thoughts in check.
It had been so long. The girls could sense him weakening. There were more of them passing through the room, appraising him from beneath long eyelashes. Carl enjoyed watching them walk. They wore no shoes, so their stockinged feet were bare against the carpet. There was something sensual about it, something forbidden.
“Carl!” Sally’s voice called from the stairway, interrupting his thoughts. “Carl, dear. Come with me.”
He stood immediately, following her long, red, curling hair upstairs. She wore white gloves that covered her to the elbows and she trailed her finger along the banister as she walked. At the top of the steps, she took his hand in hers. Their eyes met for just a moment and he could see she knew. The pain was fresh and sharp, but rigidly contained.
“Sally…” he began, but she pulled him along. Leading him past all the bedrooms to the larger door at the end of the hall.
Two windows let light into the master bedroom and an oversized bed commanded the central space. A pink quilt and matching pillow covered the thick mattress. Sitting on top was Richard. He was freshly bathed, his dark locks wet and glistening. He wore pants, but his chest was bare and his left arm was laced tight to his body in a sling. His mother sat beside him. Carl was left standing before them.
It wasn’t going to go like that. There was a chair in the corner, so he grabbed it and pulled it over to where they were sitting. Then, he fell into it and leaned forward, ready for what was coming.
“You xia,” the kid, spit. “How could you have left him behind? He died for you!
“Richard, I didn’t have time to explain before….”
“Well, you sure as hell better explain now!”
Sally put a hand on her son’s knee. “You need to keep your voice down, darling. There is no telling who is up and about now.”
“Explain, then,” Richard hissed.
Carl took a calming breath. “Charlie was unconscious. Malachi and I were holding him out of the water. Anthony was cut down from behind, Sally. There was nothing I could do…”
“From behind?” the mother whispered, her silk fingers wrapping themselves about her throat. “I don’t understand.”
“They were in the tunnels mother. Deep under that terrible place. They were being followed. Isn’t that right, Carl?”
“Yes, but…”
“Then why did you have him guarding the rear?”
Carl considered for a moment, aware of their eyes on his face, searching. Candles burned in the corners of the room, the smell of perfume and wax thick in his nose. It wasn’t so much different then a funeral, after all.
“He asked to be there, Sally. I don’t know why. And since he’s not here to tell it, I suppose his reasons will have to stay his own. But I can tell you his heart was in the right place. Where we were, that building, it is hell, Sally.”
“He died well?” his mother asked, taking Richard’s hands in his own.
“He saved us and killed the man who took his life.”
Sally’s eyes searched his face. “The boys didn’t tell me why they needed to go.”
“They are killing women in there. Capturing them and children on the trails and in the forest. Trapping them like deer, with metal wire rigged to cut though the tendons behind your ankles. We saw one body. A young girl.”
Sally shuddered and Richard put his arm around his mother’s shoulders. Sadness pulled her face down, aging her decades, her carefully crafted facade disappearing with the onset of her sadness.
“Could you hear the screaming?” Carl asked, meeting Richard’s eye.
The boy nodded, a tremor shaking his shoulders. “I heard it. From deep in the tunnels. And from the place itself. The voice kept changing. A child. A woman. I couldn’t tell.”
“How many are there?” Sally asked.
Carl shrugged, “We didn’t get far enough in.”
“Those poor people,” she prayed. “Let Sol shine on them once more.”
“Sol’s not going to do it by himself, Sally. We are the ones who have to do something about it.”
She stood up, pacing to the window, her hands on her hips. “You spoke to Nadine?”
“I did.”
“And you think the men from town will go with you? Go back there?” Her shoulders were set, the iron line of her spine straight and true. She was watching him now, but his eyes were on Richard.
“The women know the truth. They are the ones at risk. And their daughters. They could end up in that place as easy as the next girl. But I don’t think that is what they are worried about.”
“Then what?” Sally asked, her fine eyebrows drawing together.
“They killed Smitty’s family. Killed them all. Nothing to it. A father, mother and their sons. What’s left, Sally? What’s left if we can’t protect our families? Can’t protect our children?”
He felt like a monster, driving at her wound like that. But it was true! What had Anthony died for, if not his family?
“Anthony died so you would be safe,” he said. “So that those girls downstairs could grow as old as you and have sons and daughters of their own.”
He expected Richard to interrupt him, to throw him out of the house, but instead, the man sat silently, watching his mother.
Finally, he said, “It can’t stand mother. Those things they are doing. It can’t stand.”
She quivered, “I’ve already lost as son, Richard. I can’t bear to lose another.”
Carl stood. “We need you Sally.”
“Me?”
“This house.”
She came back and sat beside her son. “I don’t understand what you are asking me, Carl.”
“Nadine’s got it worked out. I’ll explain in a moment,” he told her. Directing his question to Richard, he asked, “Who else is back?”
“Only Malachi and Sam.”
The hours passed slowly. He was nervous, his thoughts pricking at his mind, the little, self-inflicted cuts bleeding into his consciousness. He paced the halls of Sally’s establishment and canvased the forest that surrounded it. His mind was a stream of worries. The fresh air did not help him. The town’s noises filtered through the trees, the voices bizarre and unsettling on this day.
Carl stood outside and put his back to the house. Familiar smells laced the air, burning pine, baking bread. It was a memory to him after what he had seen, after what he had done. It was strange to be back, especially like this.
Faenella had always seemed a home to him, as much as any place had. He had friends here, people he knew, people who cared about his life. There were people here who wished him well and sought to help him. But that was when he had been a Hunter, when he had protected the town and provided for its denizens.
Those days seemed long past, now. He wasn’t the same man. He didn’t have the same cares and he hadn’t helped the town any in the last few weeks. Smitty and his family were dead. Anthony was dead. And who knew how many Facility guards would be descending on them in the days to come.
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He could see the townspeople from where he was, their busy steps taking them here and there, purposefully going about their lives and doing their best to ignore the chaos around them. To Carl it seemed as thought they lived in a dream, one he had been a part of not so long ago.
He was the chaos and the present was filled with fear.
Unable to relax, he patrolled, the children of the building careful not to meet his eyes. He knew he was scowling, but couldn’t help it. He was troubled by so many things-- the footprints he saw around Charlie’s home and the guards who had followed them from the Facility.
He tried to plan, to focus on the future. He worked to catalogue the supplies they needed to attack the Facility, but he couldn’t concentrate. There was no way to know how many men he would have or what they would bring with them. Grinding his jaw, he paced, his eyes scouring the woods as the light drained from the sky. It didn’t matter if they could muster enough men, not if the guards found them before they were ready.
When he could stand it no longer, he knocked on Malachi’s door. A girl answered in a shift, her youthful face lined with sleep. Carl dismissed her and sat down on the bed, feeling the hay compress beneath their combined weight. His friend was face down in his pillow, his lean back naked.
“Time to get up,” Carl said by way of greeting, looking around. Night had come and the windowpane was dark, the glass reflecting half of Carl’s face and the light from the candles. The wicks burned brightly on either side of the bed, smelling of beeswax and the potpourri Sally’s girls cured it with.
“Why are you waking me?” the man muttered, turning over. His voice was heavy, the words rolling over one another, the sounds mashed together in his mouth.
“It is time to set a watch,” Carl explained. “I need to leave in a bit and you have slept enough.”
“I’m tired…
“I know, Malachi, so am I. The gods know it is true. But I have to go and we need to post a watch. I was out there before and the woods were quiet, but you know as well as I do that it can change in a moment. We have got no idea how many of those men followed us out of the Facility.”
“You were on watch?”
“Yes, I came in a few minutes ago. The sounds coming out of town are normal, and I didn’t seen anything in the woods. But I’m worried. It has been two days. There’s no telling how many Dogs they will send.”
Malachi’s eyes snapped open, their brown depths instantly alert, “Gods forgive me. No, you are right.” He swung his legs off the mattress.
Carl averted his eyes as the man changed. Shadows danced upon the floor, his friend’s movement making the candle flicker fitfully. Scratching at the side of his face, he eyed the washbasin that rested on the tabletop. When he got back, he would take a moment to clean up. Right now, he needed to get things in order.
“I should never have left them,” he muttered. “I should have waited until you came for us.”
Malachi grunted, pulling on his leather jerkin. “Charlie and Melody? Perhaps. But the men who followed us are dead. We killed the last one miles from their cottage.”
Carl pulled at his braid. “True. But they aren’t the only ones we’ve got to worry about. When the guards don’t return, they will send more.”
Malachi sat back on the bed, lacing up his bleached boots. “How many do you think?”
Carl shrugged. “I don’t know, but Faenella’s the closest town. The trail of bodies will lead them here.”
“Carth and Summerville aren’t far away,” Malachi replied, lacing up the front of his jerkin.
Carl agreed. “They will probably send men there as well. We should warn them.”
Malachi turned to face him, “I know. Tobius left already. He has family in Carth. Perhaps he went to tell them. Listen, Carl, when I scouted the outside of the Facility, they didn’t have many men on the walls. If you think of the number we have already killed, it seems to reason they wouldn’t have that many to spare.”
“We didn’t see inside, though.”
“No,” Malachi shook his head. “They won’t empty the place, not for us.”
“I hope you’re right,” Carl said, looking at the floor. “That is not the only thing I’m worried about. There were footprints all around their house.”
“Charlie’s house?” Malachi asked, confused. “That doesn’t make sense. The guards couldn’t have gotten there before you.”
Carl frowned. “I don’t think it’s Facility guards. The footprints were several days old. And Melody saw them before Charlie and I returned. I want to go back. Tonight. I need you to take the first watch. Wake Sam up when you are done. He can take the second shift.”
“You are leaving now?”
Carl shook his head. “No, in an hour or so. The girls will be downstairs in a bit. There are things I need them to do while I’m gone.”
Malachi grinned. “Sure. I will be out in the cold, while you are…”
“Making some important plans,” Carl finished. “Anyway, it looks like you had your fun already.”
Malachi’s white teeth shone. “You can never have enough fun.” He strapped his knives to his calves and his sword to his side.
“Listen, before you go,” Carl said, stopping him. “The Innkeep’s wife, Nadine, is gathering men to our cause. She thinks as many as fifteen, maybe twenty-five.”
“That is great news!” Malachi exclaimed, gripping Carl’s arm. “How soon can we leave?”
“Three days. The men will be arriving here. I need you to help the girls keep them settled. They’ll need to keep quiet until it’s time to go.”
Malachi nodded, “I can do that. What are we doing for provisions?”
“I’m going to talk to the girls now. See what I can work out.”
“Excellent. Do you need any help?”
Carl shook his head. “No, you worry about the perimeter. If the guards find this place before we have time to get the men armed and ready, it will be a slaughter.”
“Of course. I’ll go out now and take a look around. If you need me, ring the bell on the porch a few times. I don’t know if I’ll check in before you leave.”
“Thank you,” Carl said, following his friend downstairs. “Try Sam first, but Richard can take a watch, too. I wanted to give him some time.”
Malachi nodded, his hand on the doorknob. “Understandable. Don’t worry about it.” He patted his stomach. “Laying about all day isn’t good for me anyway. Got to keep in good shape for the ladies.”
Carl smiled and followed him back downstairs, taking a seat on one of the plush couches. Savory smells escaped from the kitchen, making his stomach grumble. “I will tell your girl to save you a plate,” he called as his friend shut the door behind him.
He was alone for less than a minute. A dark beauty with a red, satin shawl appeared from the room to his left. He could tell right away that she wasn’t from Faenella. She had an olive complexion and her voice was lilting and filled with song. “You are Richard’s friend?” she inquired, taking a seat beside him. He admired the low neckline her shawl revealed.
The girl arched her back and arranged the pleats and folds of her black dress around her. Without looking away, she crossed her legs, sliding one long limb along the other.
“I am,” he managed at last. “He has returned.”
She did not wear shoes and her feet were small and dainty, the nails trimmed and painted red. Her eyes traced Carl’s face. “Yes, I spoke with him earlier.”
A small boy dressed in his festival finest passed between them, handing Carl a plate of food on a wooden tray. Potatoes and deer steak. Someone knew what he liked. Quickly, he took a few bites, afraid of being distracted. Hot food was a luxury and he didn’t intend to waste it.
When he finished half the plate, he looked up. “Did Richard tell you where we were?”
She smiled, the motion slow and sensual. “No, but there have been rumors. Anthony did not return with you.”
Carl frowned. “No, he did not.” He hadn’t waited around to talk about Anthony, though. “Tell, me….”
“Caetlyn. And you are Carl.”
It didn’t surprise him that she knew his name. That was part of her trade. “Tell me, Caetlyn, the other men upstairs. You know their names?”
“The ones who are familiar to me. Those I have seen in town.”
“They are my friends. Richard’s friends.”
She smiled again, her dark eyes flashing. “It is good to have so many friends. A wise man once told me that a man without friends is like winter without a spring.”
Carl put a few more bites in his mouth. “I suppose,” he agreed eventually.
He didn’t really know what she meant, but didn’t want to insult her. “You have lived here long?”
“About two years,” she answered. “My mother brought me from the west. We didn’t have snow there, only high up in the mountains. And the sun was hot.”
“Two years,” he said absently, scratching at his beard. It had grown long and knotty since the last occasion he’d had to groom himself. “Would you say you knew Anthony well, then?”
She smiled shyly, her chin tilting down towards her chest.
Carl cleared his throat. “Well. Caetlyn. I’m not trying to pry. It’s just that my friends, Richard included, have been gone for awhile. And we need to know who’s been in town.”
“In town or in here?”
“Town,” Carl answered, finishing the food and handing the tray one of the boys.
“There have been some new faces,” she admitted, small creases forming at the corners of her mouth. “Market day always brings new men. I do not know their names.”
“I’m not interested in the people who are here for market,” Carl clarified. “There have been some other men in town lately. Men who hurt people. Men dressed in black.”
She frowned and Carl realized she was much younger than he thought, sixteen, maybe seventeen. “You are Madame’s friend. I’ve heard her talk of you.”
“Yes. I am. For many, many years.”
Caetlyn’s hair was long and straight and when she nodded, the ends brushed against Carl’s hands. It sent shivers down his spine. The girl didn’t notice, her eyes were on the curtained window. “Those men do not come here. Madame says that we must never speak to them, must never walk home if their eyes are upon us.”
“She is right. Those men are bad. They killed a friend of mine and his family.”
“Smitty. We have heard of this.”
“There will be more,” Carl said, watching her face. “Men who followed Richard home. Men who followed me and my friends.”
“Men wearing black?”
Carl nodded, wondering how many guards would flood the small town and how many people would die. Another girl came and sat beside him on the small sofa. She was fair, with a smattering of freckles across her nose. Strawberry blond hair framed a cherub’s face. Her body was covered by a cream colored dress, the material thin and shiny. Her thigh rested against his, the warmth of her body radiating against his own.
Carl felt a stirring beneath his stomach.“You’re Sally’s daughter.”
“I am,” she said, placing her hand in his. He took it reflexively and bent to kiss the smooth flesh.
“And you are Carl. I have heard much about you from my mother and I remember you from when I was a child. You brought me a summer rose once, when you visited. I remember my mother laughed to see you.”
Carl felt his face burn red, letting go of her hand. “I…well, I’m…”
“I am Kilynn,” the girl said as he stuttered.
“We were talking of the men in black,” Caetlyn interrupted, her eyes on his face, drawing his attention. “Carl says there will be more of them.”
“Right,” he managed. “Caetlyn said they do not come here.”
Kilynn giggled, “No. They certainly do not.”
“That isn’t what I meant,” he replied. “I ask because I need supplies. My friends are upstairs, sleeping. There will be many more of them coming…arriving, in the days to come.”
Both of the girls laughed and Carl felt some of the tension bleed from his back. It had been too long since he heard the sound of feminine laughter. “Listen, girls. I need you to gather food for these men.”
“Why?” Caetlyn asked, slowly twirling a lock of hair about her finger.
A boy brought him another cup of tea and Carl took it gratefully, ripping his eyes away from her dexterous fingers. The smell of whisky spiced the air, tickling his nose. Carl composed himself. “More friends of mine will be arriving soon, perhaps as early as tonight or tomorrow.”
“How many?” Caetlyn asked, pursing her lips.
“I’m not sure yet,” he admitted. “But they won’t be here long. If all goes well, we should be leaving in two or three days. I need them supplied for the trip, food, and leathers. Whatever they need.”
“We can do this,” Kilynn replied, slowly. “If my mother agrees, of course. But who will pay for the goods?”
Carl frowned. “Ask your mother. I have enough money, but not with me. I think she will agree to supply us. Malachi was sleeping upstairs…”
“The man with the braids of black and white?” Caetlyn asked.
Carl nodded. “And Sam.”
“The horse boy.”
“You can ask them about payment, too, although I doubt either of them will want to show their faces about town right now. I can give you this,” he said, handing them the coin he had taken off the Dog and Jeremy.
Kilynn looked inside, her brows rising, “This may be enough.”
“If it is not, speak with Sam and Malachi. I’m hoping another friend of mine will get here soon. He is an older man with a limp. Either of you seen someone like him in town these past days?”
The girls shook their heads, perfume emanating from their long locks. Carl frowned, a knot forming at the base of his stomach. He didn’t like the fact that the old man hadn’t shown up yet. He knew Jamison’s leg may have slowed him. Or he could have taken a longer route back, hoping to confuse the Facility guards.
Carl buried his panic, filing it away for another time. There would be no answers tonight and he had other things to worry about. The old man was better equipped to handle himself than most men and knew the woods better than anyone. He would return eventually.
“Would either of you know the Bounty Master by sight?”
“Ah! That is the old man you seek?” Caetlyn chirped. “We would know him.”
“Good. His name is Jamison. He will show up here eventually and he will have more money, if you need it. If not him, then Tobius.”
“Tobius?” Caetlyn inquired, leaning forward.
Carl’s eyes slid beneath her chin. “The horse boy’s father. His name is Tobius.” Gods, what a beautiful woman, he thought, trying to look away.
Kilynn squirmed beside him, rubbing her warm leg against his. The silk she wore made the softest rushing sound as it slid against his leathers. He was reminded of a cat purring. He breathed shallowly, feeling heat race up his leg towards his stomach. Mentally, he counted to three.
Carl wished Tobius a quick return from Carth and prayed that he returned with help. They needed all the help they could get. No matter how many men Nadine’s ladies were able to muster, they could use more. There was no way to plan yet, not without knowing the number of men inside the Facility and how many men he would be bringing with him. The only thing Carl was sure of right now was that he was never going back in those tunnels again.
Right now, he was eager to get back to Charlie. He would go back alone. Richard needed time to grieve and Sam and Malachi would watch Sally’s and organize the incoming men. The footprints Melody had seen made him nervous. Whoever had been watching their house would be back sooner or later and there was no way to know how well the guards from the Facility had tracked them.
The horse Nadine had given him was strong and fit. The animal could carry Charlie back to Faenella. He would have preferred not to the move the man at all, but Carl couldn’t sit at their house and wait. His friend would have to convalesce at Sally’s. Melody wouldn’t be thrilled, but with someone casing their house, it would be safer.
Caetlyn and Kilynn were noticeably disappointed, but Carl departed after relaying his instructions. He felt better knowing Malachi was in the woods watching for any sign of trouble. The sky was cloudless and Wul was heavy above him, her smile casting enough light to show the path clearly, even through the trees.
At the break in the forest line, Carl found a hunter returning, a great black fur rolled up on his back and a smile on his face. The man was familiar, one of the newer hunters Jamison had recruited in the past year. Carl stopped him with a wave, “Hey’ya.”
“Bit late to be setting out now, don’t you think,” the man observed, dropping his pack in the snow. His cheeks were red, as was his nose, and his breath steamed into the air.
Carl shrugged, “If you say so. Looks like you had a successful trip.”
The man’s chest swelled. “A great cat. The thing was a monster, but it was already wounded when I found it.”
“Lucky find,” Carl observed, his voice troubled. There hadn’t been big cats in their woods for sometime. Carl hoped it was an anomaly. Giant predators were about the last thing Faenella needed right now.
“You seen Jamison?”
Carl shook his head. “No, but I expect he will be back any day. I was with him not two days ago. You seen anyone else tonight?”
“No one,” the boy said, shaking his head. “Took a short-cut through Fiddler’s pass. Not many people in that part of the forest. If you are hunting, you should head there. Lots of game around.”
“I will be back in the morning,” Carl replied.
“What’s the hurry?” the kid asked, curious, his hand falling on his sword, unconsciously freeing it from his scabbard.
“Have you heard about the Smith’s family?”
The boy hadn’t and Carl filled him in on their deaths and what had happened at the Facility. He was young and full of fire and Carl recruited him easily to his cause, giving him instructions to find and bring any other hunters he could to Sally’s for a meeting. The boy set off with purpose in his step and only after he left did Carl realize he didn’t even know his name.