Ander - Epilogue: Subchapter 3
3
"Now that was some odd weather," James said, starry-eyed from the memory of those two rushing out of the chapel, not unlike the way he had rushed outside with Emily on their wedding day.
The breeze whispered through the sycamore and a smattering of green leaves fell past her tombstone, tumbling end over end before getting stuck in the grass.
"There was a party afterwards, and you can guess how wild that got," James continued, chuckling at the dozens of stories racing through his head and trying to pick out the best ones to share. "Angie got so drunk she decided it would be a good idea to climb up on a table and shake her tail. The twins joined in immediately, of course, and you don't need me to tell you that three full grown Foxes dancing on a rickety old table like that is a recipe for a whole lot of screaming and sore bottoms. And... what else is there? Oh! The bouquet!" James howled with laughter. "Oh, Emily, it was the funniest thing! They gathered all the unmarried vixens, as usual, except now there was a Wolfess thrown in the mix. You should have seen it, all those vixens, ready and rearing to go, staring daggers at each other, and then Nilia standing right in the middle of the throng, head and shoulders above everybody else, standing out like a sore thumb, this giant looking around all confused. Kiana tossed the bouquet, and of course it went straight for her, only the thing is, I don't think anyone actually thought to explain this custom to her, so she batted it away like she was under attack, and wouldn't you know it, it landed right in Layla's hands. Mateo, he lets out this huge sigh of relief, and Danado, he doesn't even know what's going on and suddenly Layla hits him with a straight tackle, covering him in kisses. The look on his face!"
James sighed and wiped his streaming eyes. "That was a fun time, and not just for Kiana and Ander. I think the whole valley needed something to celebrate, something to help everyone move on after that terrible winter. They're calling it the 'Winter of Mourning' now, did you know? Everyone who had made it through was happy to be alive, of course, but there were no smiles, no laughter. It just didn't seem right."
James turned his head and looked at the nineteen newest graves down the line. The soil was still slightly discoloured and the grass hadn't fully grown in between the markers yet. If he were to walk down that line right now, with the fence drawing lines of shadow across his face, he would read the names "Samuels", "Flyn", "Henry", "Gordon", "Peter", "Devin", "Dean", and so many others. Nineteen lives lost.
Everyone agreed it could have been so much worse, but no one actually said so out loud. To do so would have been a terrible act of disrespect towards their families, and no one wanted that. But still...
It could have been worse.
"It could have been me..." James whispered. "It could have been Luke. It could have been Timothy. It could have been... it could have been Valery..." He choked on those words, forcing them out of his throat like jagged chicken bones. He had to lean on Emily's gravestone just to keep himself upright. After a few minutes of quiet breathing, he straightened up again, but kept one hand on the cool surface, just to be safe. He was sure Emily wouldn't mind.
"I, er..." he said, struggling to collect his thoughts. "The days following that night were pretty tense. The snow kept coming and going, off and on, and The Wolves were stuck in that tiny little basecamp. Everyone expected more fights to break out. More fires, more bloodshed, more deaths. Just about everyone except Ander. He just stayed calm and asked everyone to be respectful of each other, and that was pretty much it. Bethany and her girls kept helping the wounded, and Foxes kept bringing food whenever the snow let up. And during all that time not a single scuffle broke out. There weren't even any arguments. Hell, from what I saw, no one even talked much. Some say the Wolves listened to him because he looked like death itself, with his body all torn up and his one haunted eye staring out at them, more sad than angry, and that somehow made him even scarier, but I don't think that's it. Or at least, not all of it. I think it's because he realised that it was a winter of mourning for everyone, not just us. And to be perfectly frank, the Wolves' losses were far greater than ours. I think the reason they laid down their arms and refused to fight was because all the fight had simply gone out of them. Too many of them were hurt. Too many of them were dead. And the funny thing is, I think they blame themselves more than they blame us. I'm not exactly sure how many of them died. The moment the blizzard finally cleared, the Wolves gathered up their dead and injured, said their goodbyes, apologised one last time to all the Foxes who were still posted at the mouth of the pass, and just... went back to where they came from. Just like that."
Down in the valley below, the girls had made a second circlet of flowers for Hezzi's other ear, and he was just sitting there, indulging in their fancies with the patience of a saint. They kept holding different types of flowers up against his hair, comparing colour and size before tossing the rejects and reaching for newer, even bigger blooms, experimenting with different combinations and weaving techniques for the grand crown that would eventually sit atop his brow, all while poor Hezzi sighed and shook in head in exasperation.
Valery looked like she was having so much fun, and James couldn't help but smile.
"Naturally, people were still scared. They wanted the wall to be rebuilt and lines of archers to be posted there at all times, but Ander was quick to point out that, if the Wolves were ever to attack again, they would surely never go through the pass again. They'd take the long way around the mountain instead. Some people panicked, but not Ander. I haven't known that Wolf very long, but I've come to realise something. He is absolutely brilliant when it comes to finding the simplest, purest solutions to problems that seem hopelessly complicated at first, and this was no different. He just stayed calm and waited for everyone to quiet down, then suggested something completely different to walls and towers and lines of archers. Like usual, he suggested something so simple that everyone thought he was joking. Do you want to know what he proposed?" James leaned in a little closer, wearing that conspiratorial grin he knew Emily was always so fond of. "He suggested we appoint someone to act as a bridge between the two peoples, an ambassador who would travel back and forth between Grovenglen and the Wolven tribe on a regular basis, exchanging food, news, medicines, supplies, messages, and whatever else might be needed. It would be a gesture of good faith and perhaps the beginnings of something greater, an era of peace between Wolf and Fox. People were still pretty shook up, though. They kept asking, 'Who on earth would be stupid - or suicidal - enough to try something so reckless?' Well... Ander had the answer for that, too. It would have to be someone who understood both Wolves and Foxes, he said. Someone who's lived both lives. Someone who knew all the laws and customs. Someone with a firm grasp of culture and diplomacy. But most importantly, someone with roots on both sides of the mountain. And you know what? I'm positive he worded it exactly that way on purpose." James shook his head at the slyness of it all. "He's been going back and forth for a few months now, and so far everything's been working fine. In fact, if he's kept to the schedule..." James looked to the mountain, looming so high over the western side of the valley. "He should be over there right now."
*
Ander still couldn't get used to this place. It was funny, actually. Never before had he felt more like a stranger in his old home than the moment he finally became accepted for who he was. It just felt so unreal it was almost like a dream.
"Okay, you got some bandages, some whiskey (use this sparingly) and some powdered willow bark," he said and handed a small bag over to Denko, who shifted his cane over to his other hand and took it gratefully.
"Thank you, Ander. And please thank Bet-Kai for me, too."
"It still cracks me up whenever you lot call her 'Kai'." Thoka chuckled. "That Fox is so short she can barely reach my navel!"
"And a good thing, too, otherwise she might've tripped and gotten swallowed up by your vast, undulating rolls!"
"Hey!"
Dorin burst out laughing, making his Chieftain's necklace (this one considerably smaller and much less gaudy than its predecessor) rattle against his chest. "Well, she is older than us, so..."
While Denko, Thoka and Dorin argued about titles, manners, and general interspecies decorum, Ander looked around at the scenery that should have felt so familiar to him - the tents, the paths, the Cora statue, looming over the village with its arms spread out and its five red eyes staring down at all the passers-by - but it just didn't. Even though he had spent his entire life here, this place felt far stranger to him than Grovenglen had seemed when he first set foot inside the lush green borders of the valley.
The hole at the Cora's feet, the 'Pit' they had dug for his friends, had been filled in with all of Wardo's biters still inside. And as for Wardo, he had gotten a perfectly normal pyre, just like everyone else. It had been Dorin's very first command as the new Chieftain.
Everyone has the right to a funeral pyre. That is why, from now on, I ban the practice of tossing bodies into the woods for the animals to fight over. No matter what transgressions a Wolf may have committed in life, we are all the same in death, and deserve to be treated with respect.
And many a pyre there had been. More than at any other time in all of Wolven history. The entire village centre had been packed with massive pyres, each one big enough to hold four bodies instead of just one. Gigantic pillars of black smoke from thirty-one different pyres had risen into the sky from sunrise to sundown, burning the one-hundred-and-twenty-two fallen Wolves of the Battle of the Cora's Pass. The entire tribe had mourned for the rest of the winter, and many of the families who had lost their brothers and fathers still mourned to this day.
Banno and Shekka had gotten a pyre all to themselves.
A chill crawled up Ander's back, and he was powerless to supress it. He hadn't been here for the great burning, but he had heard many stories from the other Wolves ever since he started coming over here. Stories about how everyone had gone deathly quiet as their pyre ignited. Stories about how even the children had stopped their crying and looked up at the flames licking at the bodies.
Stories about how the wind had twisted the smoke into a hideous, growling face with thousands of teeth and one single eye, rising into the air, twisting and curling like a swarm of angry wasps...
"- those things? Ander?"
Dorin nudged him in the ribs, jerking him back to reality. He looked around, once again overwhelmed by that sense of strangeness, that he didn't belong here, that this place, even though it was the same place she grew up, simply wasn't home, and never had been. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"
Dorin pointed at the cages in his hands. "I was asking what we should feed those things."
Ander looked down. He had almost forgotten about the four hens and one rooster he had brought along. He set them down and dug a small pouch of feed from his travel bag. "This is corn," he said, bouncing it up and down in his hand, liking the soft clickety-clack of the kernels. "The same stuff we had you plant in spring. How's that coming along, by the way?"
"About as tall as me," Thoka said, holding his hand up to neck height, "but I don't see the point. That stuff tastes horrible."
"What about eggs? You like eggs? Because hens lay eggs, and hens eat corn. You grow the corn, you feed the hens, you get all the eggs you want."
"But we can still eat the hens, right?"
"When they stop laying, yes."
"Okay, that's fine. They'll stop laying when we chop off their -"
"No, Thoka! They'll stop laying when they get too old. That's the only time you're allowed to eat them."
"Aww, you're no fun!" Thoka grumbled. "Those Foxes are turning you into a big old Grampa Killjoy..."
Dorin laughed, then stuck out his hand. "Thank you for all the hard work, by the by. I know it must be tough, hiking through that pass all the time."
Ander shook it. "That's okay. I enjoy having something to do."
"Oh, and all joking aside, please remember to thank Bethany-Kai for all the medicines. Without Shekka, we no longer have a witchdoctor to help us, and, well... this will go a long way."
"I've got good news about that, actually."
Dorin's good ear perked up (the floppy one tried, too, but didn't quite make it). "Yeah?"
"Bethany's been talking to the Elders, and they're going to agree to let her come over here."
All their eyes went wide. "I thought they banned her from leaving the valley?" Denko said. "Something about not sending their only healer into a literal den of Wolves? I mean, that's understandable, considering..." His voice trailed away, and suddenly the whole atmosphere went dark. That still happened sometimes, and Ander suspected it would continue to happen for many years to come, like an unexpected stab of pain from an old wound that just won't heal.
But not this time. Not if he could help it.
"If you can prove you can raise a few chickens without any disasters, they'll give you a cow next time. And after that, if you still haven't brutally murdered me, the Elders will allow Bethany to come over for a while - under my protection, of course - and teach you a few things, maybe even train up a brand new doctor. Probably with a lot less reliance on poisonous mushrooms, though."
Dorin let out a huge sigh of relief. "That really is wonderful news! Especially with Aisa, being the way she is. I know it's too early to fret, but she's been having a rough time and, well, I'm sure you know how it is."
"I do," Ander admitted, feeling the familiar pang of homesickness begin to creep into his chest. It always got really bad around this time, just before the goodbyes. But there was still some business left to attend to, and he didn't want to half-ass it. "Also, in addition to Bethany, a certain vixen with an abnormally fluffy tail might be tagging along. She -"
"Layla-Kai's coming, too!?" Tio suddenly poked his head out from behind Dorin's tent, all notions of stealth forgotten. "For real and for true!?"
Ander nodded, smiling at the way the little eavesdropper's tail seemed to be wagging his entire body, rather than the other way around. "She tried to write a few letters using the old Wolven symbols, but according to her, it's like 'trying to throw a banquet with only bread and water'."
"Bred?"
"And she had so much fun teaching me the Fox way of writing that she wants to come over and try her hand at teaching for real." Ander looked to Dorin. "Assuming that's okay with the Chieftain, of course."
"Hey, if she can convince a bunch of rowdy Wolf kids to actually sit down and focus on something other than squirrel entrails, she's welcome to it."
They laughed, and Ander wondered at the sound. The laughter from inside these walls had always been so cold, so hard, always flung at someone else's expense like poisoned daggers. But not anymore. This was closer to the sound you'd hear on the other side of the mountain. Slowly but surely, things were changing for the better. And speaking of changing...
"What's so funny out here?" The flap to Dorin's tent lifted and Aisa stepped outside, looking a bit green around the gills. She was unsteady on her feet, there were bags under her eyes, and a rather unpleasant aroma hanging around her head. All perfectly understandable, of course, given her current condition.
"Aisa, I'm glad you're finally up," Ander said, feeling the weight of Renna's gift shifting around inside his hip pocket. "Are you doing all right?"
"Oh, I'm fine," Aisa replied, looking anything but. "Just a little... just a little tired, you know how it is. How... um... How is...?" She looked down at the ground and shifted her feet across the sand. "How is Renna?"
"Mellah and Sorrin have been taking very good care if her," Ander said. "Hezzi's with her almost every minute, and she's even started to make friends with some of the Fox children. She's very happy."
"Oh..." A strange, wavering smile flickered across her face. "That's good. I'm happy to hear that."
"And there's one other thing," Ander said, trying his level best not to grin as he reached into his hip pocket. He could feel the smoothness of it against his fingers, could hear the soft clicking as the parts rubbed against each other. He pulled it out and held out his hand. "Renna asked me to give you this. She made it herself."
Aisa held out her hands like a beggar, and Ander opened his fingers, letting it drop down into her waiting palms with a series of clicks.
It was a bracelet of wooden beads, sanded down smooth and interspersed with owl feathers the colour of softest cream. Aisa stared at it as if she had never seen anything like it, watching her own face reflected back a dozen times in their polished surfaces. "Renna made this?" she asked, her voice quivering.
Ander nodded. "She asked me to tell you that she loves you, and that she misses you very much. And that... she would like to see you again."
Aisa slipped the bracelet around her fingers, very slowly and very hesitantly, as if she were afraid it might break apart. It rolled across the bulge of her thumb and came to rest snugly against her wrist with the owl feathers standing out straight, a rather beautiful decoration of many colours, blinking in the sun.
"She doesn't want to throw you away, Aisa. That's why she asked me to bring her along next time. She wants to be a part of your life, even if it's only every other month."
Her breathing became uneven and tears began to well in the corners of her eyes. Her whole body was shaking. She folded her hand across the bracelet and pressed it against her chest - the closest she could get to giving her daughter a hug from across the mountain.
Dorin put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Why are you crying, Aisa?" he asked. "You should be happy."
"I... I don't know if this is right," she said, carefully dragging her fingers across the beads, one by one. "I don't deserve any of this, but everyone just keeps giving and giving... Renna most of all... and I have nothing to give back..."
"That's not true." Dorin reached around and gently caressed the curvature of her belly. It was a bit early, but she was already beginning to show. "One day soon, you'll be giving her a baby brother or sister. And you'll be giving me a son or a daughter."
Aisa reached down and grabbed his hand, but whether she wanted to hold it or pull it away was something even she could not figure out, and she ended up just squeezing down on his wrist.
"I messed up so badly the first time..." she said in barely more than whisper. "How do I know the second won't be just as bad?"
"Because I'll be there to help you, every step of the way." He kissed her on the cheek, and with that single loving touch, Ander saw all her worries, all her fears, simply melt away. It was only for a moment, but in that moment he knew, he just knew, everything would work out all right. It would take time and effort, a lot of blood and sweat, but they would get there. All of them. Day by day, they would work to make it happen.
Dorin switched his focus back to Ander. "Kiana's time is coming soon, isn't it?"
Ander nodded. "Very soon."
"Then what are you standing around here for? It's time to go home, friend!"
*
The watchtowers rose up on either side of the gate, like they always have, but Ander didn't feel uncomfortable inside their shadows anymore. This was actually his second favourite part of these trips, the moment right before setting off.
"Are you sure you don't need more?" Dorin asked. "This hardly feels like a fair trade."
Ander smiled. "If you give me any more, I don't think I'll survive the trip back," he said, struggling under the weight of several bags of salted meats (rabbit, venison, squirrel, mountain goat, fish, lizard, among others) and one giant bear pelt draped across his back, which would be no fun at all after an hour or so of walking.
"Are you sure?" Dorin asked again. "Seffer and the others brought in the fattest elk I've ever seen not an hour ago. If you wait a while I'm sure they won't mind giving you a few cuts."
"No thanks, this is more than enough."
"Well, if you're sure, I guess this is goodbye for now." He stuck out his hand and Ander shook it.
"With Kiana so close, I might not make it back till after the new moon, though."
"Well I should hope so! There are more important things than trekking to this ugly old place every month. And also..." He leaned in close and cupped his hand around his mouth. "I'm happy you can spy out the lands of fatherhood a few months ahead of me, because quite frankly, I have no freaking idea what the hell I'm supposed to do!"
"Me neither!" Ander admitted, trying to hold back his nervous laughter and failing miserably. He's found that, the closer he got to the predicted day, the more prone he was to unexpected fits of giggles and/or violent nausea. Sometimes simultaneously. "But no worries, Chieftain. I'll be sure to scope things out for you."
Dorin grimaced. "I really wish you wouldn't call me that. The only reason I got this title is because I once held it for about five seconds."
"The only _official_reason, maybe."
A frown crossed Dorin's face for a moment, like he didn't quite understand what Ander meant by that, but that was okay. Ander was sure he'd figure it out sooner or later.
"Goodbye, Dorin," he said, struggling to maintain a straight face. "It was a pleasure doing business with all of you."
"Same here."
"Oh, and..." He glanced up at the watchtower. "You might want to consider getting a more vigilant guard."
Ivio was up there, fast asleep, with his face resting against the railing, smooshing it askew. His lips flapped up and down in rapid ripples with every exhale, and a remarkably long runner of drool was slowly working its way down the supports.
Dorin laughed. "Nah, leave him be. He hasn't had a single bad dream since the night of the battle, and I think he's trying to make up for all the sleep he's lost over the years."
Everything has changed so much, Ander thought, marvelling at the peaceful look on Ivio's face. Everything is so different now.
He said goodbye one more time, waved to all the Wolves that had gathered at the gate, and set off down the path that would lead him through the woods, across the bridge, and eventually to the mouth of the Cora's pass, the same path he had walked a year ago, sparking the events that would place him right back here, right now, with the sun shining in his face and the breeze blowing through his hair, carrying the fragrant scent of pine needles to his nose.
He did not look back. Not even once.
His favourite part of the journey was about to begin.
The return home.