Sember (Forestfolk, Book 2)

Chapter 11a

Snow was not what I had in mind when I wished for something to happen. Clouds had begun to drift in that morning, getting darker as the day wore on. By late afternoon, little flakes floated down, dusting the ground with bits of white. As the sun dipped low in the sky, I began to worry about where to make camp.

"Look!" Goben said, pointing to something in the distance.

I peered through the haze and saw the distinct outline of a structure. "Is that the tribe compound Dozan told us about?"

"I really hope so," Goben said as he picked up his pace.

As we got closer, I could see the structure was a fence made up of tall poles jammed into the ground. It seemed to circle all the way around, with a few breaks that served as entrances. We approached one of these openings, eager to find shelter.

"Halt!" said a husky man as he blocked our path. "Who are you?"

"We are travelers seeking shelter. May we enter?" I asked.

He scrutinized us, peering into our faces. I could see the beginnings of a familiar-looking rash around his nose. A plague sufferer.

"Wait here," he said gruffly and went to talk to another guard farther in. That guard disappeared inside the perimeter. Then the first guy just stood there staring at us with expressionless eyes, coughing intermittently.

Goben and I looked at each other, sharing the uneasy feeling that maybe this wasn't such a great idea. I looked up at the sky, which was getting darker by the minute. The flurries were thickening into regular snowfall, and the wind had picked up slightly. Staying out in this weather might not be a great idea either.

Eventually, the other guard returned and whispered something into the first guard's ear. He nodded, then motioned for us to follow him. So we did. He led us through the fence and into the compound. A series of mud huts sat along the inside of the perimeter, and in the center was an enormous fire pit. Unlike Foresthome, there were no communal tables or benches there.

We stopped in front of a big hut, where a large man with small eyes waited for us. He was flanked by two even larger brutes, both wielding spears. All of them showed varying stages of the plague. I felt bad for this tribe. They would be wiped out within a month.

"Where are you from?" he asked.

Goben began to answer, "We come from Fo—"

"The south!" I cut in, not trusting this man. "We come from the south."

The big man narrowed his eyes at me, then looked back to Goben. "And where are you headed?"

Goben glanced at me.

"Don't let a female answer for you!" he commanded, making Goben flinch.

The uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach spread. Siena had told me about the old tribal ways, where women were subservient to men. The practice seemed alive and well here.

"Um, we're going north," Goben stammered.

The man tilted his large head. "There is nothing north of here except the Icelings. What is your business with them?"

Goben swallowed, afraid to answer. These men were obviously suffering. They reminded me of wounded wild animals, distrustful of everything around them. Wounded animals were unpredictable. And dangerous.

"Well?" The man leaned forward, boring his eyes into Goben, who leaned away from him.

I couldn't stand it anymore. "Our business is our own," I snapped. "Either grant us shelter or throw us out! We don't take up much room."

He narrowed his eyes at me again, struggling to mask his disgust. I met his glare head-on, refusing to waver. He didn't scare me. We would probably get tossed into the cold for it, but I refused to cower before a bully.

To my surprise, the man relented and said, "Very well. You may stay as my personal guests."

He nodded to the guard who had escorted us in, and we followed him to a small hut a few paces away. The compound seemed empty. If there were people left, they must have all been huddling inside their huts. The guard stopped in front of the entrance and gestured for us to enter. As soon as we went inside, he left without another word.

"Not exactly friendly, are they?" Goben whispered.

"No introductions or anything," I whispered back. "It's weird, don't you think? It's like they suddenly changed their minds and let us stay. What tribe is this, anyway?"

Goben shrugged and dropped his pack to the floor. "I'm just glad to be out of the snow."

The hut was bare except for two small beds on opposite sides of the room. Exhausted, Goben stretched out and was soon fast asleep. I was too worried to sleep. Something didn't feel right. The ugly leader with the small eyes had looked about ready to flog me, then he suddenly decided to give us accommodations? I wished I knew what was going on.

I crept to the hut's entrance and peeked out. Two guards stood outside on either side. Were they posted for our safety or theirs? Were we prisoners? There was only one way to find out.

I sauntered outside. The two guards bristled and asked where I was going.

"I was going to look for some food," I answered.

"Please wait inside," one of them said, and left. He soon returned with a roasted rabbit leg.

I thanked him, and he returned to his post. He didn't exactly forbid me to leave. And he was nice enough to fetch me a bit of food. I supposed it was possible we weren't prisoners after all. I sat on the bed, eating the rabbit leg. The snow got thicker outside. I might have been okay walking around in that, but dragging Goben out into it would be cruel.

My eyes soon grew heavy, and I stopped worrying long enough to fall asleep. The worry could wait until morning.

What would you do in this situation? I'd vote. Haha! Shameless, I know.