The Walled Cities

Chapter 4

"Notredram? What do you mean?" was her immediate response, fear replacing the fieriness in her voice. Also there was a hitch in her breath, made easier to spot by the cold visible breath we were each exhaling.

My reaction was not much better but I kept myself from revealing to her my disgust at the statement I had made. Regardless of the fact that she was from Notredram, my cheeks were flushed as I was ashamed for disrespecting Notredram. It surprised me that I could feel such an emotion for the Walled City, but perhaps it was because of a man and not the place. I could not think about Shaw right now, and somehow I knew he would understand. My only thoughts needed to focus on this woman and how she and I were going to survive the night.

Regardless of the fact that I disapproved of the way that marriage was done inside the Walled Cities, she did not know that. Discussing my views was problematic, as pointing out that I knew what she was running from without being told would no doubt earn more distrust from her. No I needed to acquire some form of neutrality with her, if we were to have any hopes of surviving the storm, which had only gotten worse in the minutes we had spent in our exchange of words. My clothing was covered in a fine layer of snow and becoming damper by the second.

Paying close attention to her reaction I calmly informed her, "I do not judge a person based on where they grew up. Some of the Outlanders might, but I will not. Life is too short to judge someone just because they grew up different than you."

Her relief was immediate as she digested my statement. I meant it, which she must have realized as she replied quietly, "Thank you."

Having achieved what I wanted, I told her, "Stay here. I am going to start building a shelter. It will be a far cry from the house you grew up in, but it will keep us just warm enough to survive this storm and get some sleep as well. If you hear or see anything that is not me, do not hesitate to call out to me. There are wolves and bears in these mountains, and I have no desire to deal with either today."

Striding over to the largest of the trees in the stand, I pulled my hatchet out from its spot on my belt. Aligning myself with the trunk, I swung the hatchet deep into the bark. Pulling it out with a slight screech as the wood was beginning to freeze, I began cutting down the tree. Every other blow I switched from cutting straight to cutting at an angle from above or below the first cut. It was slow going as while a hatchet could do the work, an ax was much more effective for felling trees.

During the short break I took to allow my hands a rest from the constant friction, I asked my new companion her name. Of course she did not know what I meant at first, as following Outlander tradition I called out, "Z."

Understandably confused at my single lettered statement, I clarified at her confused look, "My name is Zachariah, but I prefer Z."

An odd silence followed this and confident that she had no response and was not going to give me her name I prepared to return to my cutting. Just as I readied to swing the next stroke, she quietly replied, "Kaelyn."

Keeping my back to her as I worked so that she could not see the twinkle in my eyes as I repeated her name, I put all my effort into cutting down the tree. Complete darkness was coming and I wanted to be inside the shelter before it brought a chill to the already cold air. Kaelyn would probably not like the shelter or the concept that we would be so close together, but she did not have much choice unless she wanted to freeze to death. Cultural notions about what was proper did not keep one alive in a snow storm.

Distracted by my thoughts, I lost track of my swings and was brought back to reality by the sharp crack as the tree began freeing itself from the stump that had just been its base. Moving to the side, I watched as the tree fell to the ground, sending a puff of snow up into the air as it thudded against the ground.