Many Years Ago
“Where do you think you’re off to, girl?”
The gruff and unexpected voice sent a jolt through her body. Leona had been gathering her things quietly in the hopes of delaying this confrontation. Without turning to face her father, she answered. “I am going to Emie’s for a night or two.”
“You think I’m a fool?”
It was another question that would be best answered with a lie. Instead, Leona continued pressing her things into the hempen sack that still smelled of mold and potatoes, determined to fit her every belonging of worth inside the single bag.
“Answer me when I speak to you,” her father demanded.
“Yes,” Leona shouted at him. “You must be a fool to think I will remain here with you and mother, washing away other people’s filth, in a cold so fierce the cloth threatens to freeze, along with my hands, in the washbasin.” Try as she had to explain to him the benefits of having the basin inside the home rather than in the adjoining shed—the one he liked to pretend was plenty warm—her father would not allow it, fearful of a few soapy splashes on the plank floors he was so proud of.
“It is honest work that you should be thankful for.”
“And I would be,” Leona snapped, “if the money earned from my chores went to anything of value.”
Her father took a step forward. He had a new anger in his voice. “Do you think it is easy to keep you and your mother warm and fed during the winter?”
“I think it would be easier if you did not waste all we had warming your own belly with drink.”
He grabbed her by the wrist, jerking her away from the wooden box that served as her clothes chest. “You don’t think I know where you’re off to? With that Northman’s bastard? It’s bad enough that you were born with those ears you must hide. How do you expect to ever find a husband of worth when everyone knows what a little whore you are?” The familiar smell of mead was on his breath.
The air around Leona felt charged with energy, and the faintest breeze blew, within the confines of her small room, pulling her hair forward. “Release me,” she warned, feeling oddly in control.
Her father made a sound of disgust and let her go.
“If you think I have any intention of marrying some old man who owns a kennel then you must truly think me a whore.” Leona shoved her last bits of cloth into the bag angrily. “And Tallos’s father came from Rivervale.”
“Is that what he told you?” grunted her father. “His parentage is the least of your problems. That boy cannot put a roof over your head. He’s no carpenter.”
She looked at the man before her, the miserable thing that he had become. White and black stubble covered a face her mother said was once fine, now turned to the perpetual frown of self-pity. “And when was the last time you built anything out of wood other than a fire, Father?”
Her father looked at her with such contempt she feared she may have pushed him too far. “I am warning you, girl. If you leave here, do not come back.”
A mile downstream, where the two sour oaks grew together into one, Leona waited. The air that played with her long brown hair was crisp and carried with it the smell of fallen leaves, and the trickling of the brook was ever changing like the notes of a subtle song sung just for her. She waited with an anticipation that put a discomfort in her belly and a longing like hot coals in her chest as her odd ears twitched, straining to listen for the sound of his approach.
They came here often just to be alone, spending endless hours wading in the cold clear waters where the brook became deeper and more still. They searched for rare rocks that hid their patterns when dry but were brilliantly ornate when wet, keeping the choice ones for their collection. And as the Dawnstar peeked at them through the leaves, they lay together, naked on the soft beds of moss, finding that they were strangely warm in spite of the climate.
She was not supposed to wander so far from the town… No one was. There were dangers. Savages who sometimes raided villages like hers, taking what they pleased. But those were Northmen, and she was to the south. Tallos had told her there was no real danger in the southern valleys—that the elders were old fools too scared to leave their farms and kennels. And she had cause to believe him.
Leona thought she heard a sound in the distance, the crackling of dry leaves underfoot, perhaps. Her heartbeat quickened, and she held her breath to better hear. No other sounds followed, however.
“Tallos?” she called after waiting as long as her suspense would allow. She hoped he would be within earshot, though in truth she was probably still early. She had left in a hurry, spurred by her father’s ire, setting off before she should have. Leona twirled the ring of crude metal Tallos had shaped for her around her finger, both out of nervousness and to remind herself that it still remained.
The weight of eyes fell upon her, and she scanned her surroundings for movement. A dark figure approached from the east, moving with purpose like a lynx shadowing prey. He was a tall man, leaning forward as he stalked. He had a bow in one hand, arrow nocked, ready to draw. With his other hand he put a finger to his lips. It was Tallos.
As he continued forward with stealth, Leona remained silent. She now heard in the distance what he must have already noticed—a far-off cry or whimper. She thought she’d heard it before, but it had been so faint she had convinced herself it was only the keening of the wind. That he heard it too, however, meant it was real. Whatever was making the noise might be in danger, or at least attracting it. She did not have Tallos’s knowledge of the woods, and if he was being cautious, it was for good reason.
He motioned for her to remain where she was as he continued past. She wanted nothing more than to run to him and seek comfort—to hide behind him as he flushed out whatever dangers hid in the distance—but she trusted his judgment and remained where she was. Tree upon tree wove their way in between them as he went, and within a few minutes he was out of sight.
You mustn’t leave me like this, she thought. The brook no longer sang to her—it was merely noise that kept her from hearing him, and the wind was no longer refreshing—it only burned her eyes, causing them to moisten. She waited now, as he wanted her to, but it would not be long before the wind stung her to the point that tears may fall.
“Leona,” she heard him yell. “Come quickly!”
She dropped her hempen sack and ran toward his call, dirtying her dress in the mud of the riverbank. It was not like him to sound so distressed. He was always in control of any situation placed before him. Tallos shared the courage of the very mountain god he so revered.
She found him crouched at the water’s edge facing away from her, and though she could hear the whimpering clearly now, she could not see what made it. She hurried to Tallos’s side to aid him.
In his lap was a young pup, soaked through and covered in splotches with mud as if it had been playing along the bank. Looking much like a wolf but with floppy ears and a thicker snout, it appeared quite healthy as it jumped and licked at Tallos’s face with vigor.
“What is this you’ve found?”
“It looks to be some sort of dog,” Tallos replied. She would have punched him had she not been so relieved.
“I nearly died of fright. You should have let me come with you.”
Leona thought at first the poor pup had been sent down the creek to die or had climbed its way to freedom out of the disgusting conditions found in some nearby village kennels, but she saw the guilty smirk on Tallos’s face and the leather in his hand and knew at once the true nature of this chance discovery.
“You bought it?”
A puppy was quite a luxury to a young couple such that they were, and it would have cost him nearly all his worth to make the purchase. She begged his hazel eyes for truth while admiring the handsome lines of his face.
Tallos handed her the muddy pup, allowing it to finish the job of ruining her only good dress, but she was beyond caring. Any gift from Tallos was worth more than a hundred silly dresses. She pressed the filthy puppy’s shivering body into hers to share in her warmth and to dry its coat on her cloth, but Leona found she could not help but wet the creature more with her tears.
“It seems we have a daughter,” said Tallos, beaming confidence. “Now to make some sons.”