Wandering to Belong Read online

Wandering to Belong

  Jess Mountifield

  Copyright 2013 Jess Mountifield

  Cover Copyright 2013 2KS

  Published by Red Feather Writing

  All rights reserved.

  This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locals, organisations, or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author.

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please go to any online ebook store and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Acknowledgements

  With thanks to my husband, Phil, for all his support, Adam, for his advice and critique, Keith for an amazing front cover and the rest of the team at Red Feather Writing for getting this story polished and ready for publishing with such efficiency.

  And thanks to God, for continually being the best source of inspiration.

  Dedication

  To Phil. Without you I'd also have to wander alone.

  The Village

  The flickering lanterns and torches of the small village caught Aneira's eye. Her stomach rumbled as her mind associated the warmth and comfort of the place with good food. Over the last few weeks she had struggled to hunt enough to feed herself, and a village would have crops and other necessities she could trade for.

  Making her mind up on that thought alone, she changed direction and trudged over the rocky grassland. As the evening darkened she lowered her head. The lights from the village would taint what little she could see in the dark of night if they were in view. If she also concentrated on each step at a time, it helped to keep her feet going when all they wanted to do was rest; something she had learnt long ago.

  Sounds of the village soon greeted her ears and she allowed herself to look up at the hopeful sight. There were a few stone-built houses, not many, but enough to show good masonry, and another handful of wooden houses along the edge nearest to her. She imagined there would be a similar number on the other side of the village.

  She looked for the shields of a chieftain or warrior's hut as a few people scurried here and there, eager to be indoors rather than out in the night. No one noticed her approach and she kept it that way, sticking to the shadows and hedges until she'd checked out the shield's design, if one existed.

  As she snuck up into the shadow beside one of the pale stone houses, she noticed what she sought. A shield hung on the building opposite, just below a lit torch. The pattern wasn't one she recognised, which meant that this village didn't submit to any Lords she knew of. She would have to take her chances on the unknown.

  She slunk back the way she had come to double back and enter into the village along the dirt track. Coming into the centre of the village in full view would make her look less like a threat.

  Previously, she'd walked straight into any civilisation, but she'd soon learnt to be wary of certain Lords' holdings. When she crept in she found people were suspicious, and being driven off when she was this hungry didn't appeal to her.

  Once she was out in the open she lowered her hood from her smooth black hair. She kept it short, to help keep it neat and tidy, but strands still framed her thin face. When she'd patted down her hair to neaten it, she stowed her bow on her back, and rearranged her small pack of belongings to make sure straying hands couldn't get into it without alerting her.

  With slow, deliberate steps she made her way into the village. The first woman who saw her didn't even acknowledge she existed, and this helped Aneira feel more at ease. The next nodded briefly before continuing with her business.

  So far they looked like a busy, but fairly poor, farming community with not much to worry about in terms of safety. There wasn't even a small jail or military-type building. Just the chief's house, an inn and a few other slightly smaller stone houses for the richer of the people, probably the actual land owners. She'd not seen any cattle, and there didn't appear to be any horses in the two-berth stable.

  Most people had shuttered up their houses already and light only leaked out around older windows in need of maintenance. But the tavern had a few windows open and the noise of laughter and conversation greeted her.

  As she reached the door she sucked in her breath, tried to look as harmless as possible, and pushed into the tavern. Immediately, the room went quiet and all eyes turned her way. She did her best to appear calm as she walked up to the bar and the man who stood behind it, drying some metal tankards with a dirty looking cloth.

  “Good evening,” she said, breaking the silence.

  “Evenin' stranger. What can I get you?”

  “I'm afraid I've not got any money. I've been travelling a long while, but I can work hard. Do you know of anyone here who might need some work doing in return for some food and a bed for the night?”

  The barkeep looked thoughtful while the whole inn around her remained silent. She knew everyone had heard her words, but it seemed none of them were going to help. Just as she was about to tell him not to worry and that she'd move on, he put his tankard down and walked through to the back room.

  “Darlin', do yah want some 'elp with the dishes? Got a whelp 'ere who wants to do somethin' fer a spot o' food and a place to kip.”

  Aneira couldn't hear the reply as the door swung shut behind the bulk of the owner, but it seemed like they were going to take pity on her anyway. Still looking young had its benefits. While she stood waiting for the landlord to come back, conversations around her started up again and people went back to their drinks. So far so good.

  The door swung open again and the tavern owner stepped out. He held the door open and motioned with his head for her to go through. She smiled as she rushed around the bar to do as he asked.

  As soon as she stepped through into the kitchen the smell of hot food assaulted her senses. The woman at the stove was almost as large as the tavern owner himself. They all obviously ate well, and with any luck would treat her to a similarly sized meal. She nodded at the middle-aged woman as she was being looked over.

  “I'm Aneira. What would you like me to do?” she said after a moment's wait.

  “The dishes need doin' fer starters, then we'll see what else there is.”

  She nodded and looked over at the sink. It was stacked full of pots, pans, dirty plates and tankards; eating would have to wait.