Marked Heir

Chapter Three

Citali spent as much of the next few days as she could with Wyntair. And he spent most of his free time at home with her and Aunt Beccah with visits to the butchers for Uncle Delzcen. And everyone was making an effort to seem cheerful and normal, but the whole town seemed to be hung over in a sad fog, for many in the village had at least one family member, relative, or friend who would soon be taken from them.

Then the announcement came, four days after they had first heard the news.

It was an especially cold day, and the children who usually played in the Wee Grassland were in their homes, those who worked outside, including Wyntair and his group of woodchopping boys, had done the work that needed to be done outside as quickly as possible, then taken what they could to do indoors, and the shops that sold to their customers through big windows were closing their shutters and putting up signs for customers to come inside through the doors if the stores even chose to stay open at all. The weather was too windy to light big fires in any of the three huge fire pits spread out through the town. The wind would be sure to blow embers from the fire into the dry leaves and start a fire in the town, a risk they couldn't take. You couldn't count on rain in Friil except for in the Warm Season.

By three o'clock in the afternoon, the outside of the village was a cold, empty place.

That was when he arrived.

First was the sound of galloping hooves, that almost no one was around to hear.

Then came the sound of a horn, the kind that was only used by chief Otto's officials.

Following that were the sounds of the shutters and doors opening as people came out to see what was going on.

Citali followed Wyntair and Aunt Beccah to the door but hadn't reached it when Wyntair, who was in the front, closed the door and turned back around. "There's a Friilian officer out there calling for a gathering around the fire pit near the hill. He has an announcement to make"

Citali's eyes widened and she grabbed his arm. "They're going to take you away. You can't leave."

Wyntair grimaced, "please let go of me. "

She did.

They went to the bedroom to get their cloaks and other cold-weather clothing. When they were all set, they joined the people walking towards the big fire pit, which wasn't very far from their home.

The man was not tall, short, skinny, or fat. He wore the costume worn by traditional Friilian soldiers during the three colder seasons: autumn, winter, and spring. Pants, a long-sleeved shirt, a round hat, and a circle scarf, all made of dark brown fur and boots, gloves, and a hooded cape, all made of dark brown leather.

His horse was also dark brown. His blowing horn was wooden, with many intricate designs carved into it outlined in bronze. Definitely from chief Otto.

"Good afternoon, Friilians. I hope you are all well," he started. Citali felt Wyntair squeeze her hand. She squeezed back.

"I have come to announce that there has been a change of plans for the gathering of the new coming additions to the Friilian army. We no longer are coming to collect them."

A murmur ran through the crowd.

"Instead, the joining soldiers will be expected at the Friilian Court at four in the evening in four days' time, where they will be gathered and taken to Ksakel."

The crowd grumbled now. Ksakel was the place where Friilian soldiers trained. The Friilian Court was a massive open field near the Friilian Fort, home of Chief Otto, surrounded by a large wall. It was an eight hour walk from Citali's town in normal weather. Having to walk all that way to deliver their family members over to the army was even worse than having them collected from the village.

"I shall see you then," the man finished, turned his horse and galloped away.

The crowd dispersed, complaining loudly about this new turn of events.

Citali just held Wyntair's hand and said nothing.

That night was a quiet one. The people remained in their homes, the shops were not open much longer after the announcement and their keepers returned to their families. Neither Citali, nor any of the other people at their table that night said much. They were all preoccupied with their thoughts. They went to bed earlier than usual, but none of them slept right away. Only lay on their beds and thought.

The next morning, however, was bright and active. Citali was woken by Aunt Beccah, who was full of excitement about some sort of feast but she wouldn't give Citali the details until the latter was dressed and ready for work.

As it turned out, the people of the town had gone door to door at sunrise, sharing an idea for a late dinner feast at one of the fire pits for their leaving members. Everyone was to contribute.

So Citali was hard at work, helping Aunt Beccah prepare for the following hours.

When the time came, they went with Wyntair and Uncle Delzcen and their feast contributions to the agreed-upon fire pit where the preparations were in full swing.

They helped with the setting up, then the feast began. It lasted almost until sunset, and the fire blazed high all the while.

They danced and sang and told stories and laughed and enjoyed themselves greatly.

Everyone was in great spirits, but when the party had ended and Citali, Wyntair, Aunt Beccah, and Uncle Delzcen arrived back home, Aunt Beccah turned serious and said, "we are leaving for the Friilian Court tomorrow, that way we'll have time for many stops for rest and eating along the way. Several other families will be traveling with us. We should all be ready to leave."