Siena (Forestfolk, Book 1)

Chapter 17

It was time to go. I hardly saw Remi at all the week before. He never came to find me, so I was pretty sure he was angry at me for butting into his mission. I couldn’t decide if I was mad or sad about this. All I knew was I had a nagging ache that I had to keep pushing away.

Galen had given me a leather bag with a long strap so I could stow what I wanted to bring. I shook out my woven floor mat, rolled my blanket into it, and strapped it to the bag. I found my sharpened stick and tucked it inside. It was more of a security blanket than a weapon. This stick and I had been through a lot.

At the commons, Galen portioned out dried meats, nuts, and corn cakes, as well as one water skin each. I felt much better provisioned than I did when I escaped the compound. Remi had his bow, and Galen carried a long spear.

Almost the entire Foresthome population came to see us off that morning. Sember’s parents hugged me and reminded us to be careful. Nirrin prattled about wanting to go on adventures. Zelly brought carrots for each of us and gave us tearful hugs. Even Davin came to wish us well.

Finally, Sember appeared and put on a brave face. I crouched down to embrace her. “Come back, okay?” she whispered into my ear.

I nodded and held onto her a little longer. My little sister.

Then, with a resolute sigh, I let her go.

* * *

The pace that Galen and Remi set wasn’t very challenging, and I wondered if it was for my benefit. I was determined not to slow them down, and I told them so.

“No sense in tiring ourselves out before we reach the plains,” Galen said. “Once we’re out in the open, we’ll have to go as fast as we can or we’ll be easy to spot.”

Very little was said as we marched. I was proud of myself for keeping up with the boys. I’d gotten much stronger since living in Foresthome, and was happy to no longer be the scrawny weakling. I may have even gained a couple inches in height.

The sun was starting to set when the trees became sparser, and Galen announced that we were near the edge of the forest and would camp there for the night. Remi disappeared to hunt game, while Galen started a fire. Not wanting to feel useless, I went in search of edible plants to add to our evening meal.

I returned with a handful of tart berries and a couple of wild yams. Galen had a crackling fire burning atop a bed of rocks as well as a small pile of wood nearby. He smiled when I gave him my offerings, and I settled down next to him by the fire.

“Sember has really blossomed under your guidance,” he said, his deep voice rumbling. “I’m very impressed with what you’ve done.”

“I didn’t do that much.” I picked up a leaf and flicked it into the fire. “She just needed a little help to figure things out. She did all the work herself.”

“People notice, you know,” he said.

I looked at him in confusion. “Notice what?”

He chuckled at my obliviousness. “How much you care. It’s in everything you do.” He tilted his head. “There’s no one like you.”

I blushed as a rush of warmth carried through me, and I felt like I was glowing. It was one thing for Remi to say such things because he was being nice, but people looked up to Galen. He was honest and said things plainly. His words carried a lot of weight.

I tried to reply to him, but all that came out was, “Oh.”

He smiled his perfect smile, shook his head, and teased, “Sometimes I want to compliment you just to watch you squirm.”

I pouted at him and he laughed.

Remi appeared then with two chipmunks in hand. “What’s so funny?”

I poked Galen in the arm. “I was telling Galen he was too big to be a brat.”

He laughed even harder, and Remi raised his eyebrows, wondering what the joke was.

“I was just telling Siena how entertaining it was to watch her fidget whenever someone compliments her.”

Remi broke into an amused smile. “You noticed it too, huh?”

The flush on my cheeks was definitely not from the fire.

“Maybe we should take turns saying wonderful things about her, just to see how long she can stand it,” Galen joked.

“I’m sitting right here,” I mumbled, too mortified to look either of them in the eye.

“Why don’t you like compliments?” Remi asked as he sat down. Galen leaned forward, ears perking for my answer.

“It’s not that I don’t like them. I just . . .” I struggled for the words to make them understand. “I don’t know how to respond to them. I never had them growing up. Sometimes I feel like I don’t deserve them.”

“First of all, everyone deserves to be commended, flattered, and admired,” Galen said. “Secondly, didn’t your mother ever praise you?”

“Well, yes, when I was little. When she was still alive,” I added quietly.

His face fell, and he rubbed a flustered hand over his short beard. “Siena, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay. You didn’t know.”

“Think of it this way,” Remi said to lighten the mood. “Now you have a village full of people who want nothing more than to compliment you all day long.”

I laughed, and some of the heaviness floated away. I looked into his eyes, hoping he could see my “thank you” there. He smiled back and looked pleased.

The banter over our dinner of berries, yams, and roasted chipmunk was pleasant and easy. It felt like another nice night in Foresthome. Only it wasn’t. We were on our way to—no. I didn’t want to think about it. If this was our last night in the forest, then I wanted to enjoy it.

We laid our bedrolls out by the fire and I stared up at the sky. Stars peeked in between treetops and winked at me. The fire popped. An owl hooted in the distance, and soon I was lulled to sleep.

* * *

I awoke to the hushed sounds of meal preparations and bedrolls being packed. I rubbed my eyes and pushed myself up onto my elbows.

“Hey, sleepy, are you done recuperating?” Remi finished tying up his roll and grinned at me.

I grabbed a handful of pine needles and threw them at him. He laughed and offered me half a yam. I sat up and took it, blinking the remaining sleep away.

“Are we passing by the Zurbo compound?” I asked, nibbling on the yam.

Remi stilled. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“Did the men return to the compound? Were there survivors?”

“No.” He sat on his bedroll and looked at me, trying to decide what to tell me. “The compound is lifeless.”

I chewed thoughtfully on my yam. “So it’s safe then, to stop by?”

He sighed. “Why do you want to go back to that place?”

I looked down at my half-eaten yam. “I don’t know. I feel like I . . . like I need to see what happened.”

He shook his head. “It’s bad. Really bad. The dead were never buried.”

My mouth opened, but I was at a loss. Why did I feel compelled to go? These people were never my friends. And yet, I wanted to know if Nily survived, so I could tell Davin. I wanted to see if Pimo had somehow gotten away. I wanted to see for myself the devastation that I narrowly escaped. How could I make Remi understand this?

“I may not have liked it there, but it was my home for fifteen years. Maybe I just need to say goodbye to it.”

Remi’s expression softened and he looked to Galen, who had been listening quietly by the fire. He nodded, which meant he thought it was safe.

“Okay,” Remi said somewhat reluctantly. “We’ll go.”

* * *

When we got to the tree line, I recognized the path of my flight. It was a strange feeling. Galen and Remi allowed me to roam around in a semi-dazed state. I felt their eyes on me as I went from tree to tree, and then I found it. The tree I had collapsed against when I first got here. There were still blood-stains in the bark where I had leaned against it. My blood.

I crouched down and touched the stain. It seemed like so long ago that I had been bleeding to death right here. “Remi, where were you?”

He knew exactly what I was asking and looked up at one of the sturdy branches in the tree.

“You were right above me?” I asked in disbelief.

He nodded and kicked a pinecone.

I peered up at the branch, then out to the river in the distance. “Okay.” With nothing more to say, I headed out into the plain.

Remi must have been expecting retorts or complaints from me, because he looked surprised when I marched past him without another word.

I traced my way back to the shallow part of the river and crossed it without even consulting my companions. They simply followed me.

I saw a few bodies between the river and the compound. They were the unlucky women who had been close behind me, attempting to dash to freedom. None of them looked like Nily, so I didn’t approach the bodies.

As I got closer to the perimeter, I caught sight of a pole jammed into the ground. A man’s severed head was spiked upon it, dried blood caking his face and half the pole, its dead eyes staring at nothing.

It was Magar, Zurbo chieftain. Now chief of nothing.

I wanted to laugh in his face. To scream that this is what you get for sentencing my mother to death. But the hollowness inside me sapped away any victory I might have felt, and all I could think was, now Meresh had no father. Which may not matter if Meresh was dead too.

I looked away and continued on past the perimeter entrance, stopping dead in my tracks at the sight. The compound was a desolate graveyard of burned huts and rotting corpses. I covered my nose against the smell.

Galen and Remi trailed along some distance behind me as I went farther in, fully expecting the memories to hit me like a lightning strike. I stood in the center of my old hut. All that remained were the crumbling mud walls and a lot of ash. The grief did not come, only a strange numbness, so I made my way toward the center of the compound.

I was not prepared for what I saw there. Everywhere was rotting flesh and blackened blood. The overpowering stench nearly choked me. The bodies were numerous and half eaten by vultures and other carrion eaters. I swayed as my stomach roiled and threatened to empty its contents.

Men and women littered the ground, and the overwhelming sense of loss devastated me even more than the foul air. I dropped to my knees and a sob wrenched out of me, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away. These were innocent people, slaughtered for no reason.

Then I saw the silver hair. I rose to my feet and approached it. Cloudy gray eyes stared up at the sun. It was Nily. Sticky black ooze covered her abdomen, punctuated by a gaping wound. A branch lay next to her splintered hand. She had gone down fighting. I swallowed bile and fought back the nausea while my heart raced. I was done here.

I stepped back and tripped over another body. Breath ragged, I clambered to my feet, gagging on revulsion, the stench, and a touch of hysteria. I ran, stumbled, and ran again until I reached the other perimeter exit. I fell to my knees again and gulped for air. Tears streamed down my face and my ribs seemed to shrink, painfully squeezing my heart. The loss of life, the loss of Davin’s sweetheart, an entire tribe wiped from existence.

It wasn’t until a pair of strong arms enfolded me that I realized I was shaking. Remi pulled me off my knees, and I wrapped my arms around him, desperately clinging to something solid and alive. I felt his arms circle around me, and I began to sob uncontrollably.

He held me silently as my body shook. I leaned into him, savoring his strength. It bolstered me. When the sobs finally subsided, I slowly pulled away, ashamed at my excessively tearful display.

“I’m sorry,” I mumbled. “I’ll pull myself together.”

Galen threw an arm around my shoulders. “Nonsense,” he said with that easy smile. “You’re supposed to fall apart. Death is hard. All this death is gruesome. Shall we leave?”

I nodded shakily.

“Then let’s get out of here.” His arm firmly guided me beyond the perimeter and back out into the plain.

As we got farther away, the crippling sorrow ebbed, replaced by fury. War was one thing, but extermination? That was inhuman.

My fists clenched. My role on this mission was no longer to simply keep my companions alive. With every fiber in my body, I would make sure they succeeded.