A Journey of the Heart (10 page)

I thought about Sparrow's tenderness with me and saw what a gift it was.

"When I began to understand what I was feeling," she said, "I was afraid to reveal myself. I was afraid that if she knew, she would make fun of me, or, even worse, turn away. I hid my feelings so well that she complained I didn't love her anymore." Sparrow chuckled. "I had dreams when I was younger. Just like every other girl, I thought about what it would be like to love someone. But your mother was right. Nothing ever happens the way you expect."

I blushed, remembering my own childish dreams.

"I used to say, 'Of course I still love you.' I said it in such a way that she couldn't tell what kind of love I meant. Then one day she told me."

"What did she say?"

"She told me I was beautiful."

"You are beautiful."

Sparrow laughed. "At the time I was up to my elbows in bread dough. My face and hair were covered with flour and soot from the ovens. In the kitchen heat the sweat was pouring off me. I must have been a sight."

Sparrow brushed away the tears that had come into her eyes.

"I'm sorry," I said. "I didn't mean to make you unhappy."

"I'm not. Really. It's nice to talk about her with someone."

I had noticed that Namet too seemed to want to talk about Eramet. I wondered again why these two who both loved her couldn't share their memories with each other.

"You could talk about her with her mother," I said.

Sparrow shook her head. "I don't think so."

"Maybe Namet needs to talk about Eramet too."

"Maybe."

We were silent for a while. Then I asked her, "Do you think you'll ever love someone else like that?"

"Why would I want to love someone else like that?" she whispered. "Nothing has ever hurt me more."

Her words shocked me. "I know that losing her was painful, but wasn't it worth the pain to have loved someone so deeply and to know that she loved you?"

"Losing her was the worst of it, but loving her hurt almost as much sometimes."

I didn't understand at first. Then I remembered the harvest festival the year before, when Sparrow told me that Eramet was with Vintel. Sparrow would have lain with me then, to ease the pain of her hurt feelings and her loneliness.

"I didn't mean it," she whispered. "I didn't mean it."

The raids began on the farms along our northern border. Every day bands of warriors left Merin's house. Some would stay at the farms while the farmers were bringing in the harvest. Others would go beyond our borders into the wilderness, hoping to find the raiding parties and turn them back before any harm was done.

I wondered if Maara and I would be asked to go. Some of our warriors would have to stay behind, but the younger ones, the ones most fit to fight, were almost sure to be sent north. Still I remembered that the year before Maara had gone alone to the frontier and disappeared. The others too would remember. Only Namet and I trusted her completely. Although she was bound to me by my apprenticeship and to Namet by the most unbreakable tie of kinship, to the others she was still a stranger.

For several days our warriors had been busy making preparations, seeing to their weapons and their armor, while their companions cleaned and repaired warm clothing for their warriors and themselves. Maara and I had also made ourselves ready, but none of the leaders of our warrior bands had yet asked us to join them.

Maara shook me. "Get up," she whispered. "Now."

It must be the middle of the night. "What?"

"Get up."

I got to my feet and fumbled in the dark for my clothes. Maara was already heading for the stairs.

"What's happening?" I asked, when I caught up with her in the great hall.

"Where is your bow?"

"In the loft."

"Come with me," said Maara.

As I followed her through the darkness of the hallway that led to the kitchen, I wondered if I would have time to brew some nettle tea, but she went past the kitchen doorway to the armory.

"Bring a light," she said.

I went into the kitchen, found a lamp and lit it, and brought it back to Maara. In a far corner of the armory was a pile of bows and some quivers filled with arrows, all lying in a careless heap. She rummaged through the pile until she found a bow case. It was empty. She handed it to me.

"Go upstairs and put your bow into this case," she said. "Then bring it to me here."

I did as she told me. When I returned, Maara took the case from me and put it back where she had found it, piling some loose bows on top of it until it was well hidden. My scalp began to prickle with fear, but her actions were so calm, so deliberate, that I convinced myself there was nothing to be afraid of.

Maara sorted through the hunting bows until she found one of the smaller ones. She handed it to me, along with a quiver of arrows, and took another bow and quiver for herself.

"Come on," she said.

We went out the back door and down the hill. There was no moon. From the position of the stars I saw that it couldn't be much past midnight. I didn't ask Maara why she had brought me out into the countryside in the middle of the night. She was thinking something over, and when she was ready, she would talk to me about it.

We turned south and followed the river road until we were well away from Merin's house. In a copse that stood close by the riverbank, Maara lit a small fire. I sat down and huddled close to it. Walking had kept me warm enough, but once we stopped I felt the chill in the night air.

Maara squatted down across from me and gazed into the fire.

Finally I asked her, "Are we hunting?"

She shook her head. "We may have nothing to fear," she said, and then I began to be afraid.

"Laris came to speak to me after everyone had gone to bed," she said. "She's taking her band of warriors north tomorrow morning, and she asked Vintel if you and I could join them. Vintel refused her."

"Why?"

"I don't know. It worries me. It worried Laris. That's why she came to tell me."

I felt more kindly toward Laris than I had for some time.

"When Laris asked her why, Vintel became angry. She too is leaving with her band tomorrow morning, and she told Laris that if we went north with anyone, we would go with her."

"With Vintel?"

She nodded.

"Why would Vintel want us to go with her?"

"I don't know."

"Surely she doesn't think -- "

"Think what?"

"That you would leave us again," I said.

"I have no idea what she thinks." Maara gave me a cautious look. "What do you think?"

I met her eyes. "I trust you."

She sighed, as if she had been holding her breath.

"Why did we come out in the middle of the night?" I asked her. "Are we running away?"

"No," she said. "I wanted to get away from the household, to think things over."

I knew what she meant. Sometimes in Merin's house the thoughts of all the people there echoed in one's head, even when their voices were silent.

"And if Vintel plans on leaving early in the morning perhaps she won't bother looking for us."

"Then we did run away."

"I suppose we did. Just for a little while."

"They'll send someone to find us."

"Maybe."

"Vintel will be angry."

"She can't be angry with us for going fishing," said Maara.

"Fishing?"

"Let's hope we catch something." She smiled at me. "Don't be afraid."

I wasn't afraid for myself. I couldn't believe that in this house where I now had so many friends any harm could come to me. I was afraid for Maara.

"If we do go north with Vintel," she said, "I want you to leave your bow behind."

"Is that why you hid it?"

She nodded. "It will be safe enough where it is."

I was so used to having a bow in my hands that it felt strange to think of going anywhere, much less into danger, without it.

"Why can't I take it with me?" I asked her.

"You're an apprentice, not a warrior. I don't want anyone thinking otherwise."

"But I could hunt for us. And I need to practice."

"You'll have all winter to practice."

I would have argued with her a little longer, but she gave me a look that silenced me.

I woke before dawn. The fire was still burning. Maara was bent over it, holding something to the light.

I sat up to get a closer look. It was an arrow, but instead of a stone tip, the shaft was split into three parts and tied in such a way that they splayed out. The tips were sharp.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"Getting ready to go fishing."

"With a bow?"

"Yes." She laid the arrow beside another like it and began working on a new one. "Did you bring your knife?"

She was speaking of the bronze knife she had given me to cut the leather thong that bound us together when we were hostages in Merin's house. I had made a habit of carrying it on my belt. I took it from its sheath.

"You might as well learn to do this," she said.

I took an arrow from my quiver and examined the stone tip. It was wedged into the split end of the shaft and stuck tight with a bit of pitch, then bound with a leather thong. I would have cut the whole tip off, but Maara stopped me.

"You may need that tip again. Take the time to remove it properly."

I undid the thong and held the arrow's tip to the fire to soften the pitch. Then I wiggled the stone tip off the shaft and stored it away in a leather pouch. Maara showed me how to split the end of the shaft and sharpen each tip, then splay the tips apart and bind them with a bit of thong. By the time I had prepared several arrows, the sun was peeking over the eastern hills.

"Let's go," she said. "We can leave the fire. We'll need it to cook our breakfast."

I admired her confidence. I couldn't imagine how we were going to hunt fish with bows and arrows, but it was easier than I thought it would be. We waited for the fish to rise, to feed on insects landing on the surface of the water. The splayed tips of our arrows went through their bodies and held them fast, although we had to be quick to pull them out of the water before they swam away to die where we couldn't reach them. A short time later we were roasting two fish in the coals of our fire, and we had more in our game bag to take home with us, to lend credence to our story that we had taken it into our heads to go fishing in the middle of the night.

After breakfast Maara slept for a while. Though she had been awake all night, she told me not to let her sleep too long. She wanted to time our return to the household so that we would be home before anyone came looking for us but late enough to miss the bands of warriors who would have made an early start on their journey north.

While Maara slept, I had some time to think. I wondered why Vintel would want us to go with her. In the spring, when we went with Laris to Greth's Tor, all had been well. Maara proved herself trustworthy then. And why would Vintel, who hated us both, want us to travel with her band unless she feared that Maara intended to leave us again?

Then I wondered why Vintel wouldn't be glad if Maara left us. Surely she would be delighted if Maara disappeared from Merin's house. Perhaps the Lady had charged her with keeping an eye on Maara. That made some sense to me. It was the only thing that made much sense, until it occurred to me that Vintel's hatred for Maara and for me might have prompted her to plan some mischief. That thought frightened me for a moment, until I convinced myself that Vintel would not take such a risk with so little reason.

We were almost home when Sparrow found us.

"Where have you been?" she said. "You were supposed to leave with us this morning. Vintel thinks you went with Laris against her wishes."

If Vintel thought we had gone with Laris, why did she send Sparrow out to find us? I thought I knew the answer.

"Vintel didn't send you after us, did she," I said to Sparrow.

Sparrow shook her head. "I volunteered," she said, in a way that told me Vintel knew nothing about it. She tossed her head back in a defiant gesture. "I don't suppose she'll leave without me."

For the first time I saw concern in Maara's face.

"She might," she said to Sparrow, and she set a fast pace for home.

As we trudged up the hill to Merin's house, we could see Vintel and her band of warriors standing outside the earthworks. Two dozen warriors waited there, armed and ready to travel. Their companions formed their own group that stood a little apart. They all looked restless, as if they had been waiting for some time.

When we reached the hilltop, Maara stopped a few paces from Vintel and wished her good morning.

"We thought you'd left us again," Vintel said.

The contempt in her voice made me angry, but Maara said nothing. As she stood looking at Vintel, a slow smile spread across her face. Vintel seemed unnerved by it.

"Do you intend to tell me where you've been hiding?" Vintel said.

"Hiding? We were fishing." Maara opened her game bag and showed its contents to Vintel. "I should get these to the kitchen."

Maara started to go inside, but Vintel stepped into her path.

"You haven't answered my question," Vintel said.

"I thought I had."

"You've kept us waiting. We should have left hours ago."

"If you had told me of your plans last night, we would have been ready," Maara replied, in a most reasonable tone of voice.

There was nothing Vintel could say to that, but she didn't move aside.

"May I go in?" Maara said.

"I have no more time to waste." Vintel folded her arms across her chest and stood her ground. "You've delayed us long enough."

"As you can see," said Maara, "I am unarmed. If you need a hunter, I'll come with you now, but if it's a warrior you want, you had best let me arm myself."

"I won't wait," said Vintel through clenched teeth. "You'll have to catch up to us."

She stood aside to let us pass. As I went by Vintel, she caught my arm.

"Bring your bow, little hunter," she said. "I fancy a bit of game now and then."

Vintel took hold of my bow and examined it. She ran her fingers over the smooth wood.