Free Treva's Children by David L Burkhead Page A

nodded and pulled the three remaining dogs in close.
    “Ranthar,” Talisa said, indicating one of the other men, “Take two other men and cut boughs from these trees.  Pile them between the trunks around here.” She held up one finger and moved it in a circle.  Give us some more shelter from the wind and maybe hide the fire from the Schahi if they get this far.”
    “Milady.” Ranthar too bowed.  He touched two others on the shoulder.  The three spread out and began hacking at low hanging branches.
    “Fire, milady?” A young woman, Banev, looked at Talisa hopefully.
    “Fire.” Talisa smiled and nodded. “Mo-an, dig a pit--“ She pointed at the center of the open area. “--there.  Make sure it’s down to bare earth.  About this big.” She held her hands up about shoulder width apart. “The rest of you, gather branches, as much as you can find.  Pile them--“ she looked around the open area, picked a spot, and pointed. “--there.”
    As her people scurried about their tasks, Talisa leaned against a tree.  She wanted to sit but more she did not want her people to see her taking her ease while they worked.  She looked around the open area, trying to think what she might have missed.  Water?  With the snow, that would be no problem.  She could send someone for it later.  What else?  She saw Mo-an, busy with his digging.  She nodded. “Mo-an!  When you have finished that pit, dig a short trench over there.” She pointed to a spot just outside the ring of threes.
    “Yes, Milady,” Mo-an said.
    Two more of her people arrived, followed by Marek.  Talisa set them to work gathering firewood.  She pulled her cloak tightly around her and shivered.  She had forgotten how cold she was.  While she waited, her mind drifted.  Her husband was off in the south, fighting the Schahi, her son, a new-made squire, in Norveth, the capital.  And her, all alone, trying to save what little remained of their household.

    "Milady?"
    Talisa's head jerked upward.  She blinked.  "Did I..."
    Banev stood in front of her "Milady, the fire's ready."
    Talisa rubbed at her eyes and looked around.  Brush and pine branches piled between the tree boles formed a low wall, about shoulder high.  A small gap pierced the wall, in front of which the dogs lay.  Well trained, they would sound alarm if strangers approached too close and remain silent else.
    The ruddy glow of the fire reflected off the overhanging trees. Talisa hugged herself and rubbed her shoulders.  Already the fire started to warm the small open area.  The survivors huddled close around it.
    "Milady, come to the fire," Banev said. "Please?"
    Talisa nodded and followed the girl to the fire.
    Mo-an tended a pot over the fire. "Tea, Milady?"
    "Has everybody had some?" Talisa asked.
    Mo-an hesitated, then nodded, "Yes, Milady."
    Talisa turned her head to the left then followed around the circle of huddled people.  They were as comfortable, as safe, as she could make them right then.  She returned her gaze to Mo-an and nodded. "Very well."
    Mo-an dipped a ladle into the pot and poured into a tin cup.  He handed the cup to Banev who brought it over to Talisa.
    "Thank you, child." Talisa hissed as the cup almost burned her hand.  She brought her other hand to it and shifted her grip, allowing parts of her hand to cool while fresh spots of skin endured the heat.  She sipped at the tea, reveling in the soothing warmth.
    Again she looked around the circle noting a missing face. "Embron?"
    Marek spoke up. "Da 'haint come back yet."
    "He'll find us," Talisa said.
    "That he will, Milady," Marek beamed with pride. "Da be the best tracker in Aerioch.  No one can catch him.  Why, minds me one time..." His mouth closed with a snap.
    Talisa chuckled. "Ah.  So the mystery of our poacher is solved.  Who would ever have suspected the Baron's own huntsman."
    Marek said nothing.  The silence of the camp grew.  Fear?  Fatigue?  Both, probably, Talisa thought.  She