Chapter 44: The Forbidden Zone
On the seventh day of stockpiling, Violet led the Self-Defense Force half a day north to survey the Frost Claw Tribe's hunting grounds. Hagen had reported that a large herd of migrating deer had recently been spotted in the area. Deer meat was good. Dried into jerky, it could last a month's worth of grain.
The party reached a stretch of dead thorn brush. The old Frost Claw hunter guiding them stopped.
"Can't go any farther." The old hunter's face had gone pale.
Violet reined in her horse. "Why?"
"The forbidden zone lies ahead." The old hunter pointed past the thorn brush at the mouth of a valley. Two sharpened wooden stakes stood at the entrance. Each stake bore a wind-dried eagle's head. Not ordinary eagles. Larger. Fiercer. The beaks were a full hand-length long. Though only bone remained, the ferocity still clung to them.
Wind blew out from the valley. It carried a scent impossible to describe. Not rot. Something older. Heavier. Like medicinal herbs. Like wood burned a very long time ago.
"Forbidden zone?"
"An old woman lives there. No one dares go near. Those who've gone in come out remembering nothing. Only one thing. Don't come back."
The Self-Defense Force members exchanged glances. Tor tightened his grip on his blade. Finn shrank back half a step. Ak held Black Stone's lead. Black Stone's ears were pressed flat against his head. A low whimper came from his throat. He was afraid.
Gray Ear stood at Violet's feet. His nose twitched twice toward the valley. He was not afraid. His ears stood up. Not alert. Curious. He took two steps forward and looked back at Violet. As if saying, let's go see.
"Wait here." Violet dismounted.
Finn grabbed her sleeve. "Are you insane?"
"Going to take a look. Back soon."
She pushed through the dead thorn brush and walked in. The thorns scraped against her robe with a dry rustle. Gray Ear walked at her heels. Unhurried.
The valley was not large. Stone slopes on all four sides. Sparse grass grew on the slopes. The grass was cropped very short, as if something had been eating it constantly. But not wolves. Wolves didn't eat grass. At the center of the valley stood a very small stone house. The roof was flat. A thin white smoke rose from the chimney. In front of the house was a vegetable plot. Several rows of unrecognizable plants grew there. Deep purple leaves. Edges tinged red. Wilting in the sunlight. Lacking water.
An old woman crouched in the vegetable plot, pulling weeds.
She wore a gray-black robe. Her hair was completely white, braided into a single plait draped over her shoulder. At the sound of footsteps, she did not raise her head. "Get out." The voice was not loud. But hard. Like stone striking stone. Not the hoarseness of age. The hardness of a voice that had been hard since youth. The hardness of someone who had once been a princess.
Violet didn't move. "I came to see you."
"See me? See if I'm dead yet?"
"See if you're lacking anything here."
The old woman raised her head. Her eyes were deep brown. Not pale gray. A ring of pale gold circled her pupils. Not frost-glazed glass. Eagle's eyes. Even in age, the sharpness remained. She looked Violet up and down. Her gaze paused on Violet's face a moment, then fell on Gray Ear at her feet.
"Ice wolf." The old woman said.
"Yes."
"It doesn't bite?"
"No."
"What about you? Do you bite?"
Violet crouched down. "I don't bite. But I fight back."
The old woman stared at her for several seconds. Then she stood. Picked up a stone from the ground and threw it at Violet. The stone missed. It grazed past her shoulder and landed in the grass behind her with a dull thud.
"Get out!" The old woman's voice was harder.
Violet stood and brushed the dirt from her knees. Turned and left. As she walked out of the valley, she glanced back. The old woman still stood there. A second stone clutched in her hand. But she hadn't thrown it.
The old hunter outside was stamping his feet in agitation. "You went in? She didn't throw stones at you?"
"She threw. Didn't hit."
"Next time she will!"
"Next time I'll stand farther away."
Violet mounted her horse and led the Self-Defense Force onward north. But she memorized that place. Memorized those deep brown eyes. Memorized the thing inside those eyes. Not hatred. Not madness. A sharpness hidden for too long. Dulled by time and solitude.
---
The third day, she went again.
This time she didn't bring the Self-Defense Force. She rode alone. A barrel of water strapped to the horse's back. She set the water barrel at the mouth of the valley. Didn't go in. Rode away.
The fifth day, the water barrel was still where she'd left it. But the water was half gone. A line of footprints beside the barrel. Very small footprints. Very light. Only shallow traces pressed into the earth. Eagle clan footprints.
Violet placed a sack of salt beside the barrel.
The seventh day, the water was finished. The salt sack was empty. When Violet went again, the old woman stood at the valley entrance. Arms crossed over her chest.
"What's your name?" The old woman asked.
"Cecilia."
"Silver Spring?"
"I was. Now I'm Water City's."
"Water City? That new heap of stones in the south?"
"Yes."
The corner of the old woman's mouth moved. "You built it?"
"I didn't build it. My soldiers did."
"You have soldiers?"
"I do. Fifty."
The old woman looked her up and down. "You don't look like someone with soldiers. You look like someone who does business."
"Soldiers aren't judged by appearance. Neither is business."
The old woman stared at her for several seconds. This time she didn't throw stones. She turned and walked toward her house. After two steps, she stopped. Didn't look back.
"Come in."
Violet followed her into the stone house. The house was very small. A bed. A table. A chair. A stove. What hung on the walls were not herbs. Feathers. Eagle feathers. Black. Brown. White. Tied in bundles. Hanging from the rafters like curtains. The largest was as long as her forearm. The shaft was black. The vanes deep brown. The edges gleamed dark gold.
"You raise eagles?" Violet asked.
"Raised them. No more. The eagles are dead. The feathers remain." The old woman took a clay pot from behind the stove. Poured half a bowl of liquid and set it on the table. "Drink."
Violet lifted the bowl and took a sip. Not water. Alcohol. Very strong. So harsh she frowned.
"You've drunk my alcohol. Now you have to listen to me talk."
"Talk then."
The old woman sat down. Crossed her hands on the table. Her knuckles were large. Dirt embedded under her nails. Not from planting vegetables. From a lifetime of pulling weeds.
"What do you want to ask?"
"Your name."
"Greta."
"How long have you lived here?"
"Longer than your age."
Violet didn't press. She set down the bowl and waited.
Greta stared at her for a long time, as if deciding whether to say the next sentence. A small pot sat on the stove. The soup inside bubbled and gurgled. Steam rose from the edges of the lid and filled the room with warmth. Gray Ear lay in the doorway. His nose twitched twice toward the pot. Then lay back down.
"That wolf outside. Ice Wolf Clan?"
"Yes. His name is Gray Ear."
"Gray Ear. A good name." Greta's fingers tapped twice on the table. "What I used to raise wasn't eagles. It was a rabbit."
"A rabbit?"
"Rabbit clan. I raised a man of the Rabbit Clan."
Violet didn't press.
Greta lifted her bowl and drank a large mouthful of alcohol. Wiped her mouth. Set the bowl down on the table with a thump.
"When I was young, I was the most willful princess of the Eagle Clan. My father was the Eagle Clan chieftain. Everyone in the tribe had to lower their heads when they saw me. I thought no one under the sky dared cross me. Until one day, on the roadside, I saw a group of people beating a man."
The corner of her mouth curved.
"That man was beaten black and blue. Kneeling on the ground. Arms wrapped around his head. Didn't make a sound. The people beside him cursed him, kicked him, spat on him. He didn't say a single word back. I watched for a while. The more I watched, the more annoyed I got. A man who doesn't fight back—what's the point of beating him?"
Violet said nothing.
"I walked over and shoved those people aside. I said, 'This is my man. Anyone touches him again, I'll gouge their eyes out.'" Greta's fingers tapped twice on the table. "No one dared touch him. Not because I was fierce. They were afraid of my father. But that man believed it. He thought I was truly fierce."
"What happened after?"
"After, he followed me. Couldn't chase him away. I said, 'Get lost.' He said, 'Alright.' Took two steps, then came back. I said, 'Didn't you leave?' He said, 'If I leave, who'll carry your things for you.'"
Greta smiled. Not just the corner of her mouth. A real smile. Teeth showed. But the sound wasn't loud. Like wind through dry grass. A soft rustle.
"His name was Aldric. Rabbit Clan. A wandering poet. Could write poetry. Could sing. Could tell stories. Just couldn't fight. Honest to a fault. Scared to death of his wife." She paused. "Of course, back then he wasn't my husband yet. He was my attendant."
The corner of Violet's mouth moved.
"He followed me. Carried my things. Ran errands for me. Covered for me in front of my father. I made trouble for him, he took it. I cursed him, he listened. I hit him—he didn't dodge. But he would smile."
"Smile at what?"
"Smile that I hit too lightly. He'd say, 'Princess, that strength of yours wouldn't even suffice for scratching an itch.'" Greta's eyes reddened. She didn't wipe them. The tears hung on her face, caught the firelight a moment, then dried.
"What happened after?" Violet asked.
"After? After you come back tomorrow. That's enough for today. Talking too much makes my throat sore."
Greta stood. Collected the bowl from in front of Violet and set it on the stove. Her back was to Violet. Her shoulders slightly bowed. Her white hair gleamed dark gold in the stove's firelight.
Violet stood. Didn't press.
"Greta."
"Yes."
"Tomorrow I'll bring dried meat."
"Bring it. Don't come without it."
Violet turned and left. By the time she walked out of the valley, the sky was nearly dark. Gray Ear followed her out and walked at her heels. His tail wagged once.
She mounted her horse. The old hunter was waiting outside. Sweat drenched his forehead from anxiety. "You were in there all afternoon again!"
"A short while. Not long."
"A short while? The sky is already dark!"
Violet didn't answer. She mounted her horse and rode toward Water City.
She wasn't thinking about Leon. She was thinking of something from a long time ago.
Back then she had been very poor. So poor she couldn't afford a single decent piece of clothing. She had liked someone. A star at school. Good-looking. Great at basketball. Everyone liked him. She liked him too. She chased him for a very long time. People said she wasn't worthy. She didn't care. She brought him meals. Saved seats for him. At his games she shouted from the sidelines until her voice went raw.
He told her to get lost. She didn't get lost.
Later, one day, she was cornered in the back alley of the school. Several people. Couldn't remember how many. The lunchbox she had carefully prepared was dumped over her head. Rice and food slid down her face. Sticky. Very hot. She didn't cry.
Then someone stepped out. Stood in front of her. She didn't see that person's face clearly. Too blurry. Like looking through a layer of fog. She didn't remember what that person said. Didn't remember how that fight ended. She only remembered crouching on the ground, being pulled up, having her hand held. Very warm.
She had never been able to remember who that person was. Every time she tried, something blocked her mind. The harder she tried, the blurrier it got.
She pressed her hand to her chest. Her heartbeat was steady. But what was steady wasn't her heartbeat. It was the lie she was telling herself.
By the time she returned to Water City, the sky was fully dark. Leon stood on the city wall. A torch in his hand. He saw her. Didn't call out. Didn't wave.
She climbed the wall and stood beside him.
"Back?" He asked.
"Back."
"That old woman in the forbidden zone. She spoke to you again?"
"She did."
"What did she say?"
"About when she was young. That she was the Eagle Clan's princess. That she raised a Rabbit Clan man."
Leon glanced at her. "Raised?"
"Her exact words."
The two of them were silent for a moment. Wind blew from the north. Carrying the chill.
"What's her name?" Leon asked.
"Greta."
"A good name."
In the distance, the sound of stones being moved had stopped. The wall was finished.
Violet pulled her coat tighter. The old one. The one Leon had stitched.
"Going again tomorrow?" Leon asked.
"Going."
"To do what?"
"Listen to the rest."
---
End of Chapter Forty-Four
Greta said she was the most willful princess of the Eagle Clan. She raised a Rabbit Clan man. He said, "If I leave, who'll carry your things for you." She cursed him, hit him, chased him away. He smiled and took it. The story had only just begun when the sky went dark. Violet will go again tomorrow. She wants to know what happened after. There is also someone hidden in her own heart. Blurry. Can't be recalled. But she hasn't spoken of it to anyone.