The Tower: Part 4: Yule
Post #30: In which an old friend in trouble ...
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“Rosie.”
Rose Red swam up out of deep sleep. She lay on her side, back-to-back with Artemis. The fire had burned down to a glow.
“Mmm?” she said.
“Listen.”
Rose Red, trying to wake herself enough to listen properly rather than fall back asleep, turned on her back and folded down the quilts, letting cooler air stroke her body. She lay still, listening hard.
“There,” said Artemis quietly. From somewhere in the dark winter woods came a low, wailing cry followed by desolate sobbing, as though the winter forest itself wept for the end of warmth and light. It raised the hair on the back of Rose Red’s neck.
“It’s not the trees, is it?” she asked confusedly.
“No. It’s moving closer.”
It was. The sobbing trailed away to a moan, and now Rose Red thought she could hear something huge and heavy moving in the dark. Weeks ago, a freak wind storm had knocked down hundreds of trees which, in addition to the recent heavy snow and drifts, made travel in the forest difficult, even in daylight. Whatever approached moved steadily though, breath coming in sobs, and Rose Red could hear heavy objects being shifted as the footsteps drew inexorably closer. Was it moving fallen trees out of its way?
Something nudged at the back of her mind, some memory of a time she’d heard something large moving through the trees before. Not a bad memory, a good one.
“It’s not an animal,” whispered Artemis. “Too big.”
“Yes,” breathed Rose Red in agreement.
“Rosie?” the thing outside said. “Oh, Rosie, I need help!” The words trailed away into sobbing. At the sound of the voice, Rose Red leapt out of bed and flung the door wide.
“Gwelda! Is that you? Artemis, make a light, will you? Gwelda?”
Lamp in hand, freezing in bare feet and nightgown, her gaze traveled from a pair of leather boots, each the size of a sled and lined with fur, up legs like tree trunks swathed in yards and yards of green canvas that reminded Rose Red of a tent, and a thick leather belt. The light provided by the lamp in her hand illuminated no higher. With a “whump!” the figure sat down in the snow and she recognized her friend Gwelda, a giantess who, with her human husband, Jan, planted and harvested trees and assisted Artemis in protecting the wild forests. What appeared to be a large, heavy blanket was pinned at her throat like a cloak, and a clumsily knit scarf of pink and orange swathed her head and neck. On one hand she wore an immense hide mitten. A dirty white cloth with an end dangling wound around the other hand.
At the sight of Rose Red, Artemis at her shoulder, Gwelda’s green eyes overflowed with tears. They fell down her cheeks and added another layer of ice to the scarf, crusted from her condensed breath and previous tears.
“He’s dead! They’ve killed Jan …burned the house…” She rocked back and forth, sobbing.
With great presence of mind, Artemis dressed and built up the fire. She poured what remained of Rose Red’s mead into a large bowl.
“Gwelda, drink this. We must get you warmed up. Here, let me pull this off for you.” Artemis tugged at the mitten, which slid off, revealing rabbit skin lining. Gwelda’s fingers looked red and stiff, and Artemis rubbed them briskly. “Get dressed, Rosie. It’s too cold to stand here without clothes on.”
Rose Red dressed hastily while Artemis coaxed Gwelda to take the mead. Rose Red longed to bring the giantess inside, put her in a chair in front of the fire and feed her, but she couldn’t possibly fit in the house, or in any building at Rowan Tree. She and her husband visited in fine weather, when they could live outside. And now Jan was dead, Jan with his humor and his sharp axe and devotion to Gwelda. Who could possibly want to kill Jan?
In the end, Gwelda sat as close to the open door as possible and Rose Red stoked the fire until it roared. She and Artemis felt quite comfortable and Gwelda’s front, at least, warmed. She unwound her scarf, revealing disheveled hair, fading purple in color and showing an inch of brown at the roots, and they hung the scarf near the fire to dry. As they tended her, Gwelda sat passively, tears continuing to stream down her face, though she stopped sobbing.
Rose Red thought she looked dreadful. Her eyes were red-rimmed and swollen, her lips cracked, and she looked as though she hadn’t slept in days. The unraveling bandage around her left hand concealed an angry-looking burn, blistered and oozing. Rose Red didn’t know what to do with it, so she tore up a linen sheet for a clean dressing. In the morning, she would consult Maria about how to treat such an injury. Gwelda mopped her eyes, blew her nose, accepted a towel wrung out in warm water and wiped her face.
“Thank you,” she said, handing the towel back to Artemis. “I’m sorry to get you up in the middle of the night. I didn’t know where else to go…” her lip trembled.
“Of course you’d come to friends when you were in trouble,” said Rose Red. “Where else? I’m only sorry we can’t do much for you until morning.”
“You were here,” said Gwelda. “That’s what I need more than anything.”
“Can you tell us what happened?” Artemis asked.
Gwelda heaved a sigh, running her uninjured hand through her lank hair. “I don’t know what happened,” she said. “I mean, I know what happened, but not how or why or who. Jan and I noticed something wrong with the trees this fall. Healthy trees are dying, and they all appear to be weakening. A tremendous wind blew a few weeks ago, and it knocked down hundreds of trees.”
“It happened here, too,” said Rose Red.
“Well, we’ve been worried, and Jan began to travel more, trying to understand what was wrong. Since he wasn’t working as much as information gathering, I stayed at home. I’ve traveled, too, but I can go a lot farther in a day than he can, so I’ve been returning home for the nights.”
“What did he discover?” asked Artemis.
“Not much. Nobody seems to know what’s happening, but he heard reports of trouble everywhere. It’s not just the trees, either. Jan noticed people seem less friendly and are surly and suspicious, though we’re well known and have generally felt welcomed wherever we went. He couldn’t understand it. The buildings we helped with are sturdy and strong, and the trees we’ve planted are growing. We’ve done nothing to give offense to anyone, just harvested wood, planted new trees and tried to help where we could.”
“What did you find?” asked Rose Red.
“I avoided towns and villages and went into forests and mountains,” Gwelda replied. “I wanted to see if the trouble with the trees was just local or more widespread. We thought perhaps there was some kind of disease at work in the trees and its effects were limited.”
“It’s everywhere, I’m afraid,” said Artemis.
“That’s what I found, too,” said Gwelda. “Everywhere I went, it was the same thing. The Mother trees are the most affected but smaller trees are dying by the hundreds, or already dead. It frightens me.”
“Me, too,” said Rose Red.
“Anyway, Jan came home a few days ago. He was worn out and discouraged, and we decided to stay at home for the rest of the winter and wait for spring. I hoped by then I would have seen you, Artemis, and the White Stag, and we wanted to come here to Rowan Tree and see how things were.”
“We wanted to talk to you, too,” said Rose Red.
“We should have come here,” Gwelda said, beginning to rock and weep again. “If we’d come to spend the winter here, Jan might still be alive.”
“Oh, Gwelda,” said Rose Red, feeling helpless.
“Tell us what happened, my dear,” said Artemis.
Gwelda gulped, wiped her face and blew her nose again.
“He was restless and worried. Every day he walked in the forest. It was terrible to watch the trees grow weaker and weaker. He couldn’t help, but he could be with them and love them, so that’s what he did. Then, one evening, he didn’t come home. I thought he’d be back any minute, and I waited while it grew dark, but he still didn’t come. I waited all night. I was afraid to search for him in the dark. I thought I wouldn’t be able to see his footprints and the forest is such a mess with the fallen trees. I was afraid he might be lying unconscious somewhere and I wouldn’t see him. As soon as dawn came, I went out … and I found him … he’d been attacked …”
While Gwelda sobbed, Rose Red and Artemis looked at one another. Rose Red had assumed Jan had been killed by a falling tree, or some other accident connected with working in the forest.
When Gwelda had pulled herself together again, Artemis asked, “Who attacked him? Do you mean a wild animal?”
“Yes. No.” Gwelda shook her head and sniffed. “I mean, yes, it looked like a wild animal, but I can’t imagine what kind of animal. He was bitten and mauled and torn apart, but he wasn’t really eaten.”
“But that doesn’t make any sense at all,” said Rose Red, feeling bewildered. “If an animal killed him, it would have been for food, surely.”
“That’s why it’s so terrible,” said Gwelda. “If a hungry animal killed him for food, I can accept it. I don’t know how to go on without him, but it’s a natural death. It feeds the forest, and Jan would be glad about that. But this seems so unnatural, like the trees dying for no reason, and it terrifies me. What’s wrong in Webbd? What’s happening?” She looked out of her swollen eyes from Artemis to Rose Red and back again.
“We’ll tell you what we know later,” Artemis said. “Go on about Jan.”
“His axe was there, with blood on the blade. The ground was torn up, mostly leaves and other tree debris. I couldn’t see any tracks. I took off my cloak and wrapped it around him and took him home. We had a special place, the place where he proposed to me, and I buried him there. That night our house caught fire.”
“Oh, Gwelda,” breathed Rose Red.
“How?” Artemis asked sharply.
“I don’t know. We built that house ourselves. I hadn’t left a candle or lamp burning, and I’d banked the fire for the night. I think someone set fire to it.”
“But why?” Rose Red asked. “Who would do such a thing?”
Gwelda shook her head without speaking. “I only had time to grab a couple of things,” she continued on dully. “By the time I woke up the roof was burning. I burned my hand trying to get out. It burned all night, and when daylight came, I started for here. I didn’t know where else to go.”
***
Dawn brought a sunny winter day. Artemis and Rose Red went out with Gwelda to find a place she could lie down and sleep. She was utterly exhausted, even her hunger outweighed by fatigue. Rose Red and Artemis agreed, while eating a hurried breakfast, it would be best to talk to the people of Rowan Tree before producing the giantess. Most of the community knew Jan and Gwelda, as they had helped build Rowan Tree, but only a few had a personal relationship with her, and the newcomers didn’t know her at all. It would take time to plan how and where to house her.
They found a spot in the forest near Rose Red’s oak where downed trees had created a sunny clearing. Gwelda piled trees so as to enclose a space big enough for her to lie down in. Fallen trees had protected the ground from snow and the low sun provided some warmth. Gwelda was well accustomed to camping and living outdoors and thought nothing of sleeping on the ground. After the relief of talking about what had happened and finding herself among friends, she wanted nothing but sleep’s oblivion.
***
It was still early when Rose Red and Artemis asked Maria and Ginger, who lived together, and Kunik to meet them in the community hall. The two women found the hall empty, which suited them well, and by the time the others arrived a fire burned in the fireplace and breakfast was cooking. Kunik arrived with Chattan, his temporary guest, as there was no empty housing.
Chattan was a young man with thick, sandy hair and eyes of an unusual shade of pale gold. Rose Red had hardly spoken to him, but knew Kunik thought highly of his skills and enjoyed his company. Still, she would have preferred it if Kunik had left him at home. She was uncomfortable exposing Gwelda’s grief to a stranger.
Perhaps sensing this, Chattan went out of his way to be helpful, setting one of the long dining tables, tending the fire and making sure everyone had a hot drink. As they sat down, Gabriel appeared, looking surprised to see such a large group early in the morning.
Gabriel had been one of the original villagers to settle at Rowan Tree. He and others from his old town had left after the murder of a local woman amid religious divisiveness. Gabriel had transformed from a bored, rather lonely plain-speaking old man to a respected elder at Rowan Tree. Friendly, inquisitive, active and talkative, he camouflaged his intelligence and skill at sizing others up with a gossipy, humorous manner. Rose Red enjoyed watching him lull others into conversation with his garrulous old man routine and then sit back and listen, ask occasional probing questions, and gather far more information than most realized they revealed. He and Maria, Rowan Tree’s informal leader, had become good friends, and Rose Red knew Maria relied on Gabriel’s observations and assessments of the various dynamics at work in the community. Men underestimated him and women liked him, and he didn’t miss a gathering. At present he played host to Mingan, the other newcomer, but Mingan was not in evidence this morning, for which Rose Red felt thankful.
As Gabriel joined them and plates of ham, bacon, sausage and eggs were passed, Artemis and Rose Red told the others about their disturbed night and Gwelda’s arrival. The group listened in somber silence, apart from Kunik filling details in for Chattan, who hadn’t met Jan or Gwelda.
When they had finished the meal, Chattan stacked plates and took them to the kitchen. Gabriel took out a pipe, filled and lit it.
“Poor girl,” he remarked. “I liked that young man. Now what’s to be done?” he turned to Rose Red. “Do you propose she stay here with us?”
“Of course,” said Rose Red. “She’s one of us.”
“Hmm,” said Gabriel around his pipestem.
“We’ll need to build a house for her,” said Kunik, “and fast. She can’t stay out during the winter. It’ll be hard work this time of year. Can she help us? You say she’s injured a hand?”
“She has a bad burn,” said Artemis. “She needs treatment. I can look through the herbs in the root cellar and do my best, but we need someone with better skills than mine, like you, Maria, or Heks, but she’s not here.”
Maria was watching Gabriel closely. “What do you mean, ‘hmm’?” she demanded. “Is there some reason she shouldn’t stay here?”
“Not so far as I’m concerned,” he said equably. “Do you intend to put it to a community vote, then, or make an executive decision?”
Rose Red felt bewildered. “Nobody would vote no, surely. Gwelda and Jan helped build Rowan Tree. It’s the dead of winter. We’ve accepted two other newcomers without a vote.”
“Yes,” said Gabriel, “but those were humans. At least so far as anyone can tell.”
“What are you saying?” Kunik’s voice had an edge to it.
Gabriel cradled his pipe bowl in his palm. “I’m saying conflict and disconnection are happening everywhere.”
“You mean it’s happening here, too,” said Maria flatly.
“Not until recently, but I am beginning to notice short tempers. Folks are feeling frightened, and frightened people can be manipulated into behaving in ways they ordinarily wouldn’t. Frightened people want someone to blame, and who better to blame than those who are different? Some say privately Rowan Gate broke down because of the Rusalka, and losing them and the portal are good for Rowan Tree, as both were uncanny and unnatural. If Eurydice wanted to try to open the portal again, few people would come to help.”
“But many of us are different,” said Kunik heatedly, and Rose Red knew he thought about his own parentage, as he was half ice bear, half human. Eurydice was a tree nymph and Rose Red herself had taken a fox for a lover.
“But not so obviously different as Gwelda is,” said Gabriel. He turned to Maria. “I’m only suggesting you might find resistance to the idea of Gwelda living here with us.”
“I can’t send her away,” said Rose Red. “Where can she go?”
Chattan spoke up for the first time. “If Rowan Tree won’t accept her presence, can’t we build her a place somewhere in the forest? She’d still be close to friends, but she wouldn’t be in the community.”
“Good idea,” said Artemis.
“It won’t be necessary,” said Maria. “I can’t believe anyone will object to having her here.”