"Would you tell me?"
"It was long ago, but the Dunfolk have long memories. There used to be a shrine, on the edge of Dunholme, what they call Loralayalana. They built it to their god, the Eternal. It was a deep well, lined with stones, a simple structure, but quite beautiful, they say. A circle of trees had been planted around the well. It symbolised what the Eternal meant to them."
"What happened?"
"Some priests and townsfolk decided that the Dunfolk were wrong to worship the Eternal. They tried to convert them to worship of the Evermen. A large group of them entered the forest with picks and shovels, and destroyed the shrine."
"Did the Dunfolk ever rebuild it?"
He shook his head, "They never did. Not one of our finest moments, I must say."
There was silence for a moment. Amber sighed.
"Are you eating well?"
"Yes, Father."
"How about sleep?"
"I don’t know. I’m exhausted, but I can’t seem to sleep."
He stood, and put his fingers to Amber’s forehead. She closed her eyes.
"Rest will come. Your future will be bright. Go with my blessings, my child."
Father Morten left her.
~
AMBER walked through the doorway of her home. Home. How many times had she called it that? It was more Igor’s house than her own. His signs were everywhere.
Her mind was too busy for sleep. She decided to tidy. She put away all of Igor’s tools. Clothes lay scattered about the floor. She couldn’t even tell which were clean and which were dirty.
There was a tear in one of her dresses. She opened her desk drawer, looking for a needle. When she didn’t find it, she tried Igor’s desk. Odds and ends were piled in the drawers. She wondered how he could ever find anything.
She saw a piece of paper underneath a set of scrills, at the very bottom of the last drawer. It had her name on it.
She removed the paper. It was a letter, folded in half.
Her heart hammering, she opened it. It was from Igor, to her. To be read in the event of his death.
She read it through. Amber sank to her knees. It was a message — of such love and pain it hurt her heart to read the words. The letter fell out of her hands.
She thought about the war, and about the words of the priest.
She pictured Igor, his worried face set in determination as he faced a horde of imperial legionnaires.
The father of her child.
She stood up, catching herself in a mirror. She looked at her tired face, her dishevelled hair. Her mouth set in a line of determination.
She left the house and started to walk.
~
"THE Tartana is busy. He is in a meeting."
"In a meeting?"
"Yes," the hunter said. He hadn’t fitted an arrow. The hunter didn’t seem to think Amber was much of a threat — all she carried was a spade. Three other hunters watched her in interest. She was sure there were more of them hidden in the trees.
"In a meeting with whom?"
"With what."
"What?"
"In a meeting with what."
Amber scowled. "In a meeting with what?"
"With a leg of venison. I saw him enter his hut. He had a whole leg on a plate. I told him it looked like a good piece of meat. He said not to be disturbed, he would be in a meeting with some meat. Meeting meat," the hunter chuckled.
"Take me to him," Amber said.
"No. You have not been invited. Do you even bring a gift?"
"I don’t care about your gifts! Listen, where is the shrine — the one that was destroyed?"
He frowned. His answer was a long time coming. "We do not speak of it."
"I will give you a gift, whatever you want, if you take me there."
"No."
"Listen to me," Amber said. "Your people are in as much danger as ours, yet you sit here doing nothing. We are dying so that you can sit here safe in your forest making stupid jokes. Now, take me to the shrine."
The hunter smiled. "Your face is red. I did not know your people could change colour like that."
One of the other hunters spoke, "It is a gift."
"I suppose it is," the hunter said. "Come, we will show you."
They took her to a place in the forest, on the edge of Dunholme. It seemed no different from any other place, but the air was fresh, the grass below her feet soft and green.
Amber couldn’t see any sign of a well. She hunted around for a long time, until she kicked a stone with her toe. She went down on her knees and parted the thick grass. She could see them now, smooth stones, chosen rather than cut to fit together.
The hunters watched her curiously.
After several minutes searching, she finally made out the circle that had been the well. It was roughly three paces in diameter.
Taking a deep breath, Amber put the spade against the earth, and began to dig.
~
"THERE you are," a voice said.
Amber looked up, breathing heavily as she leaned on the spade.