The Count of Castle Rock

Chapter XII- Wasp Wood

Leesa, Hans and his lamb walk along a green lined path through Wasp Wood at the base of Castle Rock. After the events on the highway a month prior, the three have been inseparable. Her shift ended an hour ago and the two were waiting for her. Hans, in a beige tunic and brown trousers. A worn leather belt sits around his waist and his equally worn boots adorn his feet. The lamb wears a blue ribbon around his neck.

"Are you ever going to name this little guy?" she asks as Hans holds up a branch hanging over the path so that girl and lamb can duck under.

"I actually did. Last night after my chores, he and I sat down and figured it out."

Leesa watches expectantly and Hans smirks. She shoves him playfully. "Just tell me."

"Byrghir. It means little brother."

Leesa scrunches up her face. "I don't like it."

The lamb bleats.

"He does," Hans says, pointing to his furry companion. "He picked it out."

"He told you what name he liked?" Her words are full of sarcasm.

The lamb bleats again.

"I went through a long list of names until we found one he likes."

The lamb jumps up and down in agreement.

"Byrghir then... I'm sure it will grow on me. Sounds like Chemisht."

"How did you know? My mother's grandmother is Do'chem."

"Uncle Will and I used to trade with a Do'chem trader. His trade-tongue was atrocious. His singing voice was beautiful and his son was a big help in translating."

"His son... it sounds like you've been all over Quinlain."

He sighs and walks ahead. Leesa barely notices.

"Mostly the southeast coast. Father had suppliers he'd used for years. They were always happy to see us when Uncle Will and I showed up."

"Where is your Uncle Will now? Why didn't he move north with you guys?"

"Father offered, but he declined. Said he was born a city boy and would die a city boy. Father thinks he was afraid of all the ghost stories." Leesa laughs, a bitter sound. "Who would have thought he was right."

Leesa's thoughts drift to the ghost of the Lia'chem and the horrors of that night. She quickly manages to distract herself with thoughts of Uncle Will, but even these give her unwanted pangs of sadness. It has only been a month, but she already misses him dearly. She looks down at her feet, remembering hours of walking and talking with him. They'd joked about buying a pair of bicycles to make the trips easier, but the roads they traveled would have ruined the vehicle's thin wheels. A thought occurs to her and she looks up from her sad memories.

"Hans?"

He drops back to walk beside her.

"Do you have bicycles here? They would work wonderfully on the more flat parts of The King's Highway." Leesa remembers the constant jostling of their coach ride north. "Though maybe not."

"Nola Brown showed me a picture of one last winter," he says excitedly. "She thinks it will be a few more years yet before there are any way up here."

"The old tailor? The blacksmith says she's crazy?"

"She's not, just lonely and old."

Leesa looks up at him and smiles. She's learned to recognize when someone or something is important to him. He never tries to hide his passion, making him nothing like the young men of Levian. In the capital everyone is obsessed with keeping up appearances. There, People say one thing but mean another. The people of Solomon are different, very honest and straight-forward. Conversations are way less complicated. Leesa loves it.