Sunset of Lantonne (2 page)

As Ilarra let her father dote, another person came into the schooling area, clearing her throat softly as she stood behind Ilarra’s father.

Looking past her father, Ilarra saw her father’s “sister,” a wildling that had been oath-sworn to protect him from any threats when he was a child. The wolf-woman was nearly all black with touches of grey around her muzzle and neck that gave her a stately appearance of respectful age. Asha was Raeln’s mother and Ilarra’s second mother after her actual mother had passed.

The complex relationships between the oath-sworn wildlings—who some in the region referred to as “Silent Watchers” due to their oath to not speak—and their elven families had long been viewed as a bad joke by people outside the village of Hyeth and many inside. To Ilarra and others who had been raised with wildlings as quiet family members, it was only normal.

“Go run with Raeln for a while,” her father told her, raising a hand to let Asha know that he had heard her. The wildling nodded and clasped her hands behind her back. “Asha and I have much to prepare for your trip. You will leave next week with the supply caravan. The gypsies agreed to a fair price for the last-minute ride, which has surprised me to no end.”

Squeezing her father in another long hug, Ilarra ran off toward the deeper woods, where she could feel Raeln waiting for her. It took her several minutes to find him, searching through the dense trees on the north end of the village for where he might be hiding. He had somehow slipped away when she had been talking with her father.

“Raeln?” she called out, leaning sharply around a tree, thinking she would find him. In all directions, the woods were silent and empty. “Where are you?”

A rustle behind her startled Ilarra and she spun, only to find herself staring at the chest of the man who towered over her. Despite his stature and imposing appearance, Raeln grinned when Ilarra punched him harmlessly in the stomach.

Like his mother Asha, Raeln was a wolf wildling, though his patterning was largely grey with hints of white and black in parts of his fur coat, mostly around his face and chest. He had been bonded to Ilarra when they were children, allowing them to always have a sense for one another’s safety, but also tying their health and lifespans together. If Ilarra got a cold, so did Raeln. For his part, Raeln gained decades of extra life, in return for being obligated to protect Ilarra to keep himself alive.

Unlike Asha, Raeln was massive. What Asha could accomplish through stern looks and implied threat, Raeln rarely had to even threaten to get, given that he was easily seven feet tall—more than a foot and a half taller than Ilarra—and one of the strongest men in Hyeth. That muscle convinced many who did not know him that he might be slow or clumsy, but Raeln was fast and agile, making those who had tussled with him as a child unwilling to risk ever doing so again after he had filled out in recent years.

“Did you hear?” asked Ilarra, giggling.

As expected, Raeln said nothing, but nodded and smiled. That was enough for Ilarra, seeing more in his expression than most people got from words. She had never heard him speak and had grown very accustomed to watching his slight facial expressions for his thoughts. A turn of a fuzzy ear, a tail flick, or a lift of his whiskers all spoke to Ilarra the same way words would from anyone else. His expression showed beaming pride in his “sister.” He already knew. It was entirely possible that he had known for days and not revealed it to her.

“One more week,” she exclaimed anyway, hopping. “We’re going to Lantonne!”

Raeln reached down and tapped at the braided rope tassel on Ilarra’s belt. Making a breaking motion with his hands, he pantomimed throwing something away.

“Right! I almost forgot. Lantonne doesn’t make us wear these stupid things. If I’m in the school, I don’t even have to worry about it anymore.”

Ilarra wanted to throw the maiden-braid away, but knew she would have to at least get out of the village before lighting it on fire. Waiting even that long was difficult.

The simple cord braid was a tradition in Hyeth, marking the women that were of marrying age and had not found a husband as of yet. In previous generations, the women had worn the braiding in their hair, under the belief that, given how far-spread their people were across that part of Eldvar, it would help catch the eye of a potential suitor who might otherwise travel on.

With the beginning of trade with the dwarves of the region when Ilarra was a child, the young elves of Hyeth had found it distasteful that dwarven women also wore a similar style of braid, though theirs was meant to hold valuables and tokens of pride in their hair. As such, the braid had been moved to an accessory by all but the older women. If Ilarra’s wishes came true, the idiotic tradition would be forgotten entirely before she was fifty. Like most girls her age, she wanted to marry…simply not anytime soon. It was far more interesting to flirt with the boys than to even consider being tied down to one. Besides, half the fun was in making two or more of them fight over her and that would have to end if she chose one.

The one thing Ilarra did have in her favor was that once anyone from Hyeth became a skilled tradesman of some sort, the braids became optional. Tradesmen of either gender were viewed as too busy to be pestered about such things, unless they wanted to be, and thus, they could choose more freely if they wanted to look for a partner. Farmers, hunters, and especially wizards fell into the category of skilled tradesmen.

So long as she had to wear it, it meant not only would single men continue to follow her around, but also that her father had the right to present suitors to her. He could not force her to marry, but he could strongly suggest men he felt were appropriate, which required her to be polite in her rejections. Joining the school of magic in Lantonne made her a wizard in training and gave her the freedom to tell men to leave her alone…or encourage those that her father would never approve of. Convincing Raeln to let her get away with that would be a different matter, but perhaps in Lantonne she could keep him busy enough that she could sneak some time alone with the men there.

The desire to avoid being followed by every bachelor in the small village was selfish, but Raeln benefited from her getting rid of the braid, too. So long as Ilarra was considered available, the women wolf wildlings of Hyeth would continue to throw themselves at him. Every time it happened, the reaction from him was much the same. He seemed to hate the unwanted attention far more than Ilarra. Some days, he had to chase off a half-dozen women that he was not interested in.

As if on cue, a young wolf woman stepped into their path, dressed in a lightweight dress that hugged her figure. The style tended to be more common on the elves than the wildlings, but many of them, especially the women, had adopted the clothing to their different body shape. Like the rest of their kind, Raeln included, the woman’s paw-like feet were bare despite the rocky ground, and the outfit she wore had been built to accommodate her long tail, which wagged behind her as she purposely blocked Raeln’s advance.

The woman gave Ilarra a vaguely mumbled greeting without taking her eyes off Raeln, then smiled broadly at him as she pressed a flask of wine into his hands. Without a word, she hurried off, glancing over her shoulder repeatedly before the woods cut off any further sight of her.

“They’re trying to get you drunk now. That’s a new approach,” teased Ilarra once she was sure the girl was out of earshot. At Raeln’s glare, she quickly added, “I know, I know. Her family works the vineyard, so the gift makes sense. I was trying to be funny. Drink that if it helps get your sense of humor back.”

Raeln nodded and looked at the flask before shaking his head and flicking one of his ears in annoyance. He checked over his shoulder for the girl who had given it to him before tucking the flask into his loose shirt. Knowing Raeln, he would give the flask to his mother as a gift without revealing where it had come from. He hated alcohol and rarely even drank anything stronger than tea.

“She had a nice tail,” noted Ilarra, trying to make Raeln smile. Instead, his annoyed look turned into an outright glower. He seemed never to find the same things nearly as funny she did.

“You know,” Ilarra went on, starting to lead the way through the woods again while Raeln sulked behind her, “sooner or later Asha is going to find you a nice girl, whether you like it or not. I’ve seen her checking out the young wolves on your behalf. If you don’t find someone soon, you’ll be stuck with whomever she finds. My father can’t make me marry, but I know I wouldn’t dare cross your mother. I think she wants grandchildren in a hurry.”

Raeln’s ears drooped briefly and he pointed at Ilarra and tapped the back of his hand, a gesture they had come up with as kids to indicate that the topic or gesture applied to whoever was being pointed at. Then, to make it a question, he cocked his head slightly in the way a dog did when confused. He was essentially saying, “And what about you?”

“I’m free, Raeln. With the schooling in Lantonne, I’ve got years before father can try to pick a husband for me again. By then, I’ll be a famous wizard and won’t have to worry about matchmaking. I can find my own husband and maybe help you find a nice wolf to settle down with before your mother decides to deliver a wife to you without consulting you.”

This time, Raeln stopped and patted his chest to indicate he wanted Ilarra to pay full attention. She turned fully around, knowing it had to be something important for him to insist on that when the topic was intended to be light-hearted.

Raeln pointed back the way the girl had gone and made a noose-like loop around his neck with a fingertip. Lolling his head to one side and letting his tongue hang out, he looked as though he were mimicking a dead person.

“I know she’ll die long before you, Raeln,” Ilarra said, realizing how serious the conversation had become if Raeln brought that up. “It really limits both of our options.”

The simple truth that the oath between Ilarra and Raeln changed how they interacted with “normal” people was one Ilarra rarely allowed herself to think about.

While other wildlings were of adult age by five or six years and elderly by thirty—the girl that they had passed was likely about eight—Raeln’s tie to her meant that he would live until she died. Whereas most elves might live two or three times the lifespan of an average human, often between a hundred and fifty years and a hundred and eighty, those like herself or her father would live no more than a hundred. The lifespans of both people involved in the oaths were changed, meaning that she would die many years before most elven men and Raeln would die decades after another wildling. He had brought that up more than once as a reason to avoid attachments, and she could not say he was wrong. Once they went to Lantonne, where she had heard no one performed the oaths, it would be even more unlikely that Raeln would be willing to consider a relationship with someone that he knew would die before he had even reached middle age.

This was exactly why Ilarra had turned to flirting. It was so much safer on everyone’s feelings, unless an eligible bachelor who was also bonded showed up.

“You two look miserable,” a man’s voice called out as footsteps crunched through the woods behind Ilarra. “Bad news from Lantonne?”

Ilarra’s eyes went wide and she looked up at Raeln to confirm who was walking up behind her. His curt nod was all she needed to feel even less at ease, though he looked easily as uncomfortable as she felt. Instead of watching whoever stood behind her, Raeln began searching the woods, his ears darting back and forth the way a wild animal would if it thought it was being stalked.

Turning slowly, Ilarra’s eyes shot straight to the elven man approaching her. He was her age, but as a hunter he rarely spent time with the same people she did and was not even seen in town very often. Shoulder-length blond hair and a warrior’s physique made her stomach clench with nervousness, mostly thanks to the teasing about her feelings by the other elven girls. Rolus was the man she had long been hoping would be her father’s first choice if he tried to convince her to marry. Then again, she knew nearly every other elven girl in Hyeth felt exactly the same way, including several of the more outspoken married women. Thus far, she had not gotten him to say anything more than “hello” to her in passing, despite some serious attempts…more than one of which had upset Raeln or her father, due to the low cut of her clothing choices.

Nearby in the woods, a grey and brown wolf wildling—Rolus’ oath-bound sister, Ishande—circled them, barely visible among the trees as she kept low. It was a habit she seemed unable to resist, always trapping whomever Rolus was speaking with. From what Ilarra could tell, Rolus did not even notice anymore. Raeln, on the other hand, watched the wildling girl as though she might attack. From the things Ilarra had heard of her, that was not a bad assumption.