Red's Wolves

Chapter Thirteen

Alera thought Jere may have wanted to talk before she went to bed but she was so exhausted she chose one of the mattresses and fell asleep as soon as her head hit the feathers. And it was Jere who shook her awake the next morning, or the next afternoon, perhaps, by the position of the sun through the forest canopy. Had he stayed there next to her all night? Did he sleep or remain away, thinking she was going to need protection here among her mother's people?

Their mothers' people.

"Jere..." She wanted to talk to him more, to see how he felt, but he didn't give her the chance to ask.

"Not now, Alera," he whispered. "You only need to worry about getting up, getting ready for the day, and eating breakfast."

And that was that. Because the chief was already waiting for them outside.

Hevea was not alone as Alera emerged from the hut with her bow strung along her back. In addition to Palo and Jere, there were various other members of their people mingling about for more than just curiosity.

The chief gave her an assessing look, then a glance to Palo who nodded in confirmation. Hevea must have recognized Nyla's bow. Palo had said it belonged to Jere's mother, and now she felt guilty for possessing it among her people.

"We know you just joined us, but we want to make sure you feel as welcome as possible." Hevea motioned towards the group dressed in hunting gear that blended in with the forest leaves, a contrast to the red cloaks they wore over their shoulders. Like blood on the overgrowth. It was a hard image to shake from her mind now that she saw it. "Today Alera, you'll be working with our best archers, since you're already carrying one of our own."

She wanted to protest, to let him know it was gifted to her, that she would indeed draw blood on the overgrowth if they allowed her the time, but Hevea was already turning his attention to Jere. "And you will be spending some time with our apothecary, who knew your mother and her work well."

She wasn't pleased that they were going to be separated all day, but Jere seemed eager to leave. He barely even looked at her before he was led away from them by a male in a dark jacket, made of finer material than the hunting clothes worn by the people Alera was with.

"This way, Princess," one of the hunters urged, and she reluctantly nodded, looking behind her to see Palo and Hevea once again in conversation while Jere continued away from the group.

Reluctantly, she followed the group of three hunters into a clearing on the otherwise of the residential area, which was set up predominantly for exactly what they were set out there to do. Archery training.

Hay bales with hand-drawn targets and straw dummies to represent soldiers stood at various intervals among the field. Some still had arrows protruding out of them, left uncollected from the previous group.

"Here is where you will start your days. Perfecting your skills with the bow and learning to fight like us of the woods, with arrows and magic."

"But I don't know any magic." She felt almost ashamed admitting it, knowing now who her mother was and being in such a place like this.

But the hunter only gave her an understanding smile. "Then is it a good thing you know how to use a bow."

Did her father know she would one day be faced with such a task? He had always told her it was his legacy to pass down his knowledge to his son, to keep the art of archery within the family line. But he had no sons. He reluctantly taught her. Now Alera wondered if it was because of her mother. Of the skills she possessed, that he was so cautious and careful about training her in them. To not want to be reminded of the love he lost. How often had her father and mother come to this very same training ground to practice together, side by side?

The same questions plagued her mind as she was shown how to choose the best arrows for a particular purpose, how to adjust the tightness of her bow string for shorter or longer distances, and aiming at moving and stationary targets. She was exhausted by the time they told her it was time to finish for the day, only once the sun descended beyond the horizon line, and as she walked back to the village, she hoped Jere had as much of a productive day as she had.

-----

The first thing Jere noticed as he walked into the apothecary was the smell. Never before had he experienced so many smells at the same time, and had worked in a stable for most of his life.

The apothecary, whose name was Galan, was older than Hevea, though it was getting more difficult to discern age the more Jere remained in this magical forest realm.

A realm that had been only rumor and superstition a day before had now become the center of his existence. And to learn that these were his mother's people...

"You look exactly like her, you know."

Jere looked up at the male when he spoke. He watched him with gentle eyes, and Jere slowly approached. "You knew her?"

He nodded. "She was my apprentice. The best one I ever had. She could have taken over this shop one day, but she had other, more important things on her mind."

Jere let out a soft sigh as he looked up at the hanging herbs and glass jars of various colored liquids.

"So, what did she do?" He asked, trying not to sound over-interested. "Dry herbs and make potions."

The older man laughed. "Oh no, my boy. She did much more than that."

Jere turned back to him, the curiosity evident on his face.

"Your mother was attuned to the earth and its circle of life. Healing was in her blood. So while she was able to make the most potent and effective potions we had ever seen, it was her magic that brought people to her. And her to her people."

"She was a healer?"

Galan nodded. "Not just of the physical either. She had a way of calming emotional wounds too... that was her true gift."

Jere hugged himself as he listened. She was a healer, but couldn't save herself. None of it made any sense.

"Have you not felt it yourself?" He asked. "An attunement to the world around you?"

"I admit I don't get out much working in the stables."

"Ah, but the horses—were they not yours to tame? Yours to command?"

"I—" His immediate response was to deny having any abilities because what could he possibly do... but then he bit his tongue and considered what the man had said.

He had worked in the stables with his father his entire life. There was no where else he wanted to be. And he was good at what he did. With the exception of the wild horse he had brought to Alera's attention the few days before, he had been able to handle just about any horse that entered their yard without a second consideration.

"Can I show you something?" The apothecary finally asked.

Jere nodded silently, and the male grinned and walked him through the shop, past a work room, and out the back door.

Before them was a yard full of horses, but no fences kept them in, and they wore no bridles, no saddles, no reins. They roamed free and untethered.

"Now watch."

The man pointed to a group on the far edge of the clearing. He heard them yell something in a language he did not understand... but the horses did.

Two looked up from their grazing while a third walked over to them.

The one who called out was able to reach out, pet the beast muzzle, and then grip its main to swing up and prepare to ride it bareback.

Jere was in awe of what he just saw transpire.

"All horses roam wild and free. It is up to them to want to join us."

"But how?" He asked, still amazed.

Galan smiled at him. "Practice. Training. And this."

He places a warm hand on Jere's heart and as he looked back out to the horses now with their riders, he felt for the first time since they arrived that this could very well be home.