The Chronicles: Three Sisters 07

Yevna smiled at me, showing me the huge gap between her front teeth.

- "I will kill him, Papa." she said. "But I don't intend to die trying."

***

Guen Nadesti called a meeting, a week later.

Vingoldas was there, with Weyl and his sister Seva. Hedyn, of course ... and Inisian. I was invited, with all three of my daughters. Yevna was our best scout and hunter, and Tanguiste was ... herself. Guenna had come up with the idea to keep our watchers alert. I wasn't sure, though, if she was there for her own merits, or because of her father and sisters.

My wife was also present.

- "How serious is the threat?" asked Mother Nadesti.

Vingoldas looked to me, but it was Yevna who answered.

- "Serious." she said. "They suspect that there's something on the Hill." She described the days she had spent following Kestutis and his band.

- "They sound determined." said Hedyn.

- "But they can't find a way up." said Seva.

- "The boatmen did." said Yevna. That was another hint, for me, that my eldest and the redhead didn't particularly like each other.

- "How do we defend ourselves against Bacho?" said Guen Nadesti. "That's what I called you here to discuss."

This time it was me who looked at Vingoldas. I gave him the slightest of nods.

- "Mother Nadesti." he said. "One day, they'll find one of the paths. It won't be easy, but they'll find a way to climb the Hill."

- "Can you stop them?" she asked.

- "Yes. I think so." said Vingoldas. "But then they'll know - for sure - that we're here."

- "I see."

Mother Nadesti looked at each of us in turn, like a shepherd weighing her flock.

- "What should we do?' she asked. The old woman was clever: she didn't look directly at me, or at Vingoldas. That way, no one was specifically invited to speak first.

I left the opening for Vingoldas. He left it for me. While we both waited, it was the youngest person in the room who spoke.

- "We need more information." said Guenna.

Guen Nadesti gave my youngest daughter a long look.

- "it's true." she said. "We don't know what's going on, south of the lake."

- "Or how many men Bacho has." said Vingoldas. "I, for one, would like to know."

- "I agree." I said.

- "So ... someone has to go, and talk to people who would know?" said the old woman.

I looked around the room. It couldn't be me, for obvious reasons. Vingoldas or Hedyn might also be recognized. And there was no way that I would let Yevna go anywhere near Kestutis, alone and unprotected.

It couldn't be a female. That much was certain. Not one of my daughters. Not Seva. My glance fell on Weyl, her brother. A likeable lad, but ... not the sharpest of blades. He had his ... limitations.

- "I'll go." said Inisian.

He was looking directly at me when he said it. His eyes shifted to Yevna, and then quickly back to me.

It took me only a moment to recognize facts: he was the best choice, by far.

- "I trust Inisian." I said. No one among Bacho's people would know him. He was a complete stranger to everyone south of the lake. He was more resourceful than Weyl ... and more expendable than my daughters.

- "As do I." said Vingoldas, settling the matter.

- "Then he shall go." said Mother Nadesti. "Thank you, Inisian."

***

Moruith was appalled - and terrified - by her son's decision. She tried to persuade him to wait until next spring. No doubt she would have spent the winter trying to talk him out of it.

Inisian didn't waver. Tanguiste stepped in, and talked to his mother. She probably reassured Moruith that we would look after her, no matter what. What else she said, I didn't know.

I kept thinking of Inisian as a lad; he wasn't a boy anymore, though. He was a man, and a warrior, who had stood his ground. That didn't stop me from worrying about him once he'd gone. I didn't sleep well at all, imagining what could - or what would happen to him if they discovered who he really was.

- "You can't change it, Father." said my middle daughter.

- "Thank you, Mother Tanguiste."

- "Just trying to help." she said.

Winter came early, and it came hard. It was bitterly cold - so much so that part of the river iced over. The water bucket inside the house froze solid. We slept as a family, all five of us huddling together to share our warmth. There was a fire burning all day long.

We had Moruith move in with us. There was no point trying to heat two houses. As it was, the girls and I moved and stacked mountains of firewood, for ourselves, and for Mother Nadesti, who was sharing her house with two other families.

Then we got a heavy snowfall, to the point where we could barely get out the door. It was too deep to move through, which ruled out hunting or trapping anywhere off the Hill. Anyone who went down the slope would leave easily spotted tracks. The chances that someone from outside would be wandering about near Prospal might be minimal, but it was a risk we couldn't afford.

Two of the older folk passed away that winter. It was sad, but that was the way of things.

The spring couldn't come soon enough.

***

As soon as the snows began to melt, Yevna began to roam. She was hunting, she said, and we did need the meat. But I knew that she was also searching for sign of Inisian.

- "That's all we need." I said to her. "You leave a single footprint on wet earth - one! - and they could find us."

- "I know what I'm doing!" she snarled back at me.

- "You'd better!" I snapped.

As Yevna stormed off, her sister came and put her hand on my shoulder.

- "She worries about him." said Tanguiste.

- "We all do."

- "She worries more."

- "What does that mean?" I said. Even as I turned to look at my daughter, I suspected that I knew the answer. "They're plight trothed?"

Tanguiste smiled. "You didn't hear it from me." she said. "Seriously, though - you didn't know?"

I should have known. By the time Yevna was old enough to begin thinking seriously of boys, Inisian was the only unattached male for leagues around. He was a few years older than her, reasonably handsome ... and kind to her.

They had spent years running the woods together. He had taught her quite a bit, before she began to surpass him in woodcraft and hunting skill. Inisian never showed, by word or deed, that he was unhappy about this. He had his own brand of quiet confidence.

Inisian had lived for years with only his parents and older brother for company. The nearest girl his own age was Svijo's sister. It was natural enough, I suppose, that he and Yevna had formed an attachment.

"You won't object, will you?" asked Tanguiste.

- "No - 'course not. I told you three that you could choose your own husbands. That was a promise." I said.

"Besides, Inisian is a fine young man. And I know he'll be kind to Yevna."

He would make a fine husband, and I would be proud to call him my son. Assuming, of course, that Moruith's son was still alive.

*****

[1] Bylina: a poem, or tale, told orally. Usually they were loosely based on historical fact - although quite embellished.