Green Steps

1

There weren’t always dragons in the valley. We brought them upon ourselves.

Mari looked across the verdant green, to the slopes across from her, a river carved its way through the two hills, stretching for miles in either direction. She couldn’t see any dragons. Hughes always did like to tell stories.

“There aren’t any dragons around here… right?” She craned her neck up to ask him. Hughes extended a gentle hand and ruffled her chestnut hair. He leaned back onto his tree and took another puff from his pipe.

“Right?”

He coughed a stifled laugh. “No.”

Mari let out a heavy sigh and took another bite of her jerky. “Want some?” She offered with a full mouth.

“You eat up.”

“You haven’t eaten a thing since we left the village”

“The priestess blessed my pipe.” He explained, examining it between his fingers. He placed it back in his mouth and inhaled. “So long as I say a prayer whilst I smoke, I’m warded from hunger” he smiled.

“She can do that?” Mari asked, eyes wide with wonder.

“She can do anything for the right price” He pointed to the sky. “A storms coming” Mari followed the old man’s finger, extending into his pipe. It was a marvellous summer's day, no sign of a storm on the horizon.

“What are you on about?” She said, thumping Hughes’ thigh. “It’s a sunny day.”

Hughes exhaled a puff of smoke through his nose and smacked his lips together, sampling the air. “You can taste it”

“You can’t taste anything through the smoke”

The old man croaked a deep laugh. “I think lunch is over”

Mari stuffed the last of her jerky into her mouth, packing it into her cheek, and kicked to her feet. She extended a hand down to the old man. He struggled to his feet, but once he was on them he stood almost double Mari’s height, her head only reaching slightly above his waist. He collected his rucksack from a nearby branch, threw any leftover belongings inside and pulled his walking stick from its resting place on the tree.

“We should be heading back” He said, squinting his eyes. Although it was hard for Mari to tell if he was squinting through his wrinkled face.

“So soon?”

“Better to go back empty handed and dry than with a kill but sodden”

“That’s not true! I’d much rather have a full belly” Mari chirped.

The old man sighed. “Me too lass, but there’s nothing around here to catch. We’d have to go much further, and no ways your sister will let you do that”

Mari knew Clarissa wouldn’t let her go out that far. Even though she was 12, almost 13. Even though she was with Hughes, the smartest elder in the village. Even though she’d grown two lengths in the last year, not that you’d know it standing next to Hughes, who even hunched over his cane stood taller than the saplings in the woods.

Mari spun on her heels and craned her neck again to look Hughes in the face. “Tell me a story” She sauntered backwards.

“Alright. What about?”

“Tell me a story about my father”

The old man paused, looked inside his pipe and decided it was done, tapping out the contents on an oak tree alongside their dirt path. “Again? Are you sure you wouldn’t rather your father tell you when he comes back?”

“When is he coming back?” Mari frowned.

“I’d be lying if I said I knew”

“Can he not come back until he’s killed all of the dragons?”

“Every last one”

“Are there a lot of them?”

“More than you’d think”

Mari scooped up a stick from along the path and lunged forward, play fighting the air. She stayed light on her toes, just like Hughes had told her. She stepped back and swung hard, striking the stick across a tree, shattering it. She turned back to Hughes, handle in hand.

“Your footwork is good, but your choice of weapon could be better”

“It’s just a stick, they’re all the same”

“And what about this?” He said, motioning with his walking stick.

“That’s different, you… what did you say you did to it again?”

Hughes stopped and turned to the nearest tree on the track. He placed his hand on its trunk and whispered to it. After a moment he placed his head on it and said a quiet thanks. He extended to his full standing height and snapped a branch from the tree. He twisted the leaves and green from it and handed it to Mari.

“Place this by your hearth tonight and keep it there for as many days as you can manage”

“As many days as I can manage?” Mari said in faux shock.

Hughes tapped on the back with his walking stick. “Best hurry up now. The rains are coming,”

Mari looked up to the sky, the clouds were as white as a newborn lamb, after it had been bathed of course. Whatever, she thought, swinging her new stick all the way back to the village.

Elder Yaga was waiting at the gate for them upon their return. She bent down to hug Mari as she passed. In years gone she would have picked her up and spun her around, but age was taking its toll on her now. She turned her attention to Hughes, he shook his head. She turned back to Mari and smiled.

“Best you get back to your sister and help with the chores”

“Is there nothing I can help Hughes with outside?” Before Yaga could answer a single raindrop splattered across her nose.

Yaga smiled a gappy smile. “Run along, before you catch a cold,”

Mari sighed and started walking towards home.

“Remember to put the stick by the hearth” Hughes called out behind her. She raised the stick triumphantly in the air, to say she had heard him.

Before she had made her way to the square of their little village she was already having to run to dodge the raindrops. By the time she had passed the miller and the bar, even a sprint wasn’t enough to dodge them, and by the time she made it past the sheepfold her sister kept she had given up running entirely as she was sodden.

*

People always compared Mari to her sister, she never saw it. Sure, they both had chestnut shoulder length hair, brown umber skin and matching brown eyes. But those were just physical similarities, and anyway her sister's eyes were a deeper brown that reminded you of sard, her hair wasn’t frayed at the edges and her skin was smooth, not pockmarked. Her sister was also content to look after the sheepfolds, something Mari couldn’t stand. Especially because it meant she had to wake up in the night to watch the flock. Nothing ever happened of course. None of the sheep had ever been stolen. None of them had ever run away. So she watched, as she had done for all the nights since her 12th name day.

As the sun crested the little village of Belgrain Mari caught an all too familiar sight. A hulking shadow, stretching down from the top of the hill all the way to the townsquare below. She turned excited to see Fowler before his morning hunt. Instead she saw Jack, Fowler’s apprentice.

“Good morning Mari.” Called Fowler from behind Jack, tapping him on the back and clearing his throat.

“Oh right, good morning Miss Schaefer” The boy bowed low and tipped his green fabric hat to her. He was hardly taller than Mari, perhaps a thou taller with his mousy brown curls, so the bow did nothing but add to Mari’s image of him as a runt.

“Are you going to bring back something big for supper tonight?”

“With any luck Mari, with any luck. We have to catch something eventually, right?” He lamented.

Mari jumped off of the low stone wall she was watching the flock from and ran to the hunters side. “Let me come with you!”

“Now you know I can’t do that, your sister would string me up by my ears. Besides you have sheep to attend to. Everyone-”

“- in the village has their job. You sound just like Hughes” Mari groaned finishing the sentence for him.

“There’s wisdom in that old geezer yet.” Fowler patted Mari on the head. “If you’re good, perhaps I can finally teach you the crossbow upon my return.” He tapped the crossbow on his back.

“I’d like that very much”

The hunter nodded in agreement, inhaled a gulp of morning air and started in large strides down the hill. “Come along Jack. Best we beat the sun”

Jack turned to Mari again, tipped his hat and ran after the hunter. Mari really hated him.

He didn’t know anything about hunting, he was just the only boy stupid enough to agree to wake up at the crack of dawn to help out Fowler and help his father at the blacksmith when he got home. Because of that everybody loved him, they’d always tell Mari how good he was, how handsome he was and helpful. As if implying she wasn’t. She picked up a pebble from the dirt path leading through the town and launched it into the woods. It pinged off of a large oak tree and struck one of the sheep in the side. The sheep looked up from its grazing for just a moment, decided it was nothing and tucked its head back down to graze. Mari sighed, closing her eyes and traipsed back to her wall. Everybody has their job and hers was to try and not fall asleep looking after sheep.

*

“Mari, breakfast is ready” Clarissa called. Mari rubbed her eyes and slapped her legs hoping to wake them back up from their slumber on the wall.

“Tired?” Her sister smirked as Mari entered their small rock cottage. She had already laid out the table and although Mari couldn’t see inside the bowl, she knew what it would be again. Porridge. It was all Jack’s fault. If Fowler had taken a reasonable apprentice, a good hunter, her, then they would be feasting on hare and pheasant right now.

“Everything alright?” Clarissa asked, as Mari stirred her porridge with disinterest. She never wanted to trouble her sister with her problems. They were Mari’s and Mari’s alone to deal with. Her sister had to look after the village’s needs, not hers. And what would she even say to her anyway? ‘Everyone has their job’

“I’m fine.” She answered, taking a sip of porridge to placate her sister. Clarissa examined her, up and down, eying for a tell. She raised a finger as if to pounce and then there was a knock at the door, and before either of them could answer Larens was already inside, she was red in the face and shouting with excitement.

“Clarissa, you must come quickly! It’s Isabella, her waters have broke!”

Clarissa grabbed a handful of towels from her table and turned to Mari. “Stay here, look after the fold. I will return as quickly as I can”

“Larens, is that Isabella, Jack’s sister?” Mari asked, catching Larens at the door.

“One and the same child. Let us hope for another boy in the family!” She answered over her shoulder running out of their garden.

Mari waited for a moment to make sure the pair were gone and then when she was certain, she rummaged through the pantry in hopes of something tastier to eat. She moved kilns and jars where there used to be nuts, fruits, berries. The best she found was a jar of honey that had been eaten, but the sides hadn’t been cleaned, leaving the white crystalline honeycomb behind. She scooped her finger around the edge and ate it quickly. The sensation was overwhelming, the zainy sweetness of the honey, and then it was immediately gone, no lasting sensation in her mouth or stomach. It was no rabbit.

You know, Jack would probably want to know that his sister was in parturition. She would want to know if Clarissa was. However unlikely that was to happen. It would only be fair of someone to tell him. And then of course Fowler would need assistance on the hunt. She’d be helping everyone out if she did that. Mari peered out of her kitchen window into the sheepfold. The sheep hadn’t moved since she’d come in for breakfast and weren’t likely to move until she’d come back. Her sister would be none the wiser celebrating with Isabella and Larens anyway. And anyway, everyone would be grateful when they were full that evening. Mari hadn’t realised that whilst explaining this all to herself that she’d already packed her bag, grabbed her stick from yesterday, and hopped the low stone wall on the other side of the cottage, to not be seen when she was running into the woods. It wouldn’t take long to catch them, at least it wouldn’t so long as Fowler used the same spots as Hughes, which she sincerely hoped he did.

Mari had stopped running once she was clear of the village, or more accurately once she was out of breath. It was another blistering midsummer's morning, the sun already hot enough to burn your skin when you weren’t under the tree’s canopy. She trod lightly through the dirt and leaves, making sure to not break a branch or crunch a dead leaf. Hughes had always told her to tread a path leaving no trace. He hadn’t exactly taught her how to do it, but she figured so long as she was quiet and light on her feet then that was as good a place as any to start.

She came across a clearing with a stream running through it. In her rush to leave the village unseen she hadn’t packed well. She had remembered a knife, albeit a kitchen knife as no one was willing to give her a hunting one, her stick, a net and a rope from the garden, but she hadn’t remembered to bring food or water. She paused at the treeline, inspecting the environment before her. The canopy gave way above the stream giving her full vantage in the daylight. Crouched low to the ground, she shuffled down the bank leading to the clearing, making sure to stay as silent as she could, and quickly and quietly she approached the stream bending down on the bank. She pooled the water in her hands and brought it to her lips. It was cold and crisp and the silt of the bed remained undisturbed, keeping the water clean and tasteless. On the surface she caught her reflection. There were heavy bags under her eyes from the sleepless night in the sheepfold and her skin looked wrinkled as if she had aged years in a night. She pulled her face down tight by her chin, in a hope of getting rid of the tired. It did nothing.

Across from her in the water's surface, ripples twinkled outwards. She darted her eyes up, making sure to not move her body. Sipping at the other side of the water was a piglet, no more than a few weeks old, its fur still pale brown, its stripes not fully through yet. Carefully, she reached behind into her bag and slowly, inch by inch she pulled out her knife. She was maybe a yard from the piglet at most. Too far to dive so she would have to approach without disturbing him. Luck was on her side, she thought, as the piglet clearly hadn’t learned the smell of humans yet. She placed a hand in the stream delicately and pulled herself forward in a crawl. She was downstream from the piglet and its attention was still thoroughly on its trout. She was within jumping distance of it now. She lifted her right hand out of the water and raised it high above her head. She needed the strike to be true and lightning fast.

“Don’t move.”

A shiver went down her spine at the sound. She had to fight every instinct not to recoil in fear. She dared not crane her neck to see who was speaking, but she recognised the voice.

“Down river. Look” The voice continued, low. Mari glanced with her eyes up the river and at the treeline where the water trickled down from the bank was an adult boar with her piglets. It hadn’t noticed them yet, nor had it noticed the piglet which Mari was about to slaughter.

“Follow my voice, and back away slowly.” The voice reassured her. Mari took a heavy breath and lowered her arm back into the water. She kept her body under the surface where she could, pushing herself away from the piglet. She felt her feet reach the bank and she dug her toes into the soft mud, using them as hooks to pull her way backwards. With her left hand she felt a rock in the riverbed. She pressed firmly onto it, using the support to push herself slowly out of the water. She stayed low to the surface so the water droplets from her jerkin wouldn’t create any loud noise. With her right hand she placed the knife on the river bank and searched for the perfect grip to pull herself fully out of the water, all she needed was a root or tuft of grass. She shifted her weight slightly to reach further, causing the slick rock supporting her left hand to turn in the river bed sending her into the water with a heavy splash. The piglet whined in excitement. The mother perked up and caught sight of Mari for the first time. She froze in fear unsure of what to do but the decision was taken from her as she was lifted from the water by her back and thrown over a man’s shoulder. He took off at full sprint through the clearing, up the embankment and into the woods. Mari lifted her head to see the boar charging after them and gaining. The man took a sharp turn into the trees, the boar skidding unable to keep up with the man’s dexterity. He used the space to find a suitable tree and quickly scaled it. Mari watched as the boar kicked up dirt, squealed and hollered at the base of the tree, and then decided the chase was over and returned to its young. Finally she caught a look at his face. It was Fowler. He smiled, happy to see her ok, and then clipped her around the ear, annoyed to see her here at all.

“What are you doing you stupid girl? You could’ve gotten yourself killed!”

Before Mari could answer she heard a commotion at the bottom of the tree. She looked down and covered in leaves and dirt was Jack.

“Is everything alright master? I saw you running!” He asked, scaling the tree.

“Twas a boar Jack, and everything is fine now. But perhaps it would be best if you directed Mari on the safest route back to the village”

“Wait,I came to tell Jack about his sister, the baby is coming now” Mari offered. Fowler looked down to Jack and sighed.

“Run along lad. Be with your sister. Leave your belongings here. I’ll deal with them” The young boy nodded, stripped himself of his backpack, leaves and dirt and set off in an excited sprint. Once he was gone the hunter turned his attention back to Mari.

“That’s not the only reason you came out here was it?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” She answered coyly.

The hunter groaned and jumped down from the tree. “Follow me. We know where the boar is now, we can track her.”

“Are… are we going to kill one of her babies?”

“I’d worry more about getting your sisters knife back if I were you and less about how old supper is going to be”

2

Mari held the gate to the village open for Fowler, his hands full holding the two piglets slung over his shoulder. It was the first successful hunt Mari had seen him return from in some weeks now, and there was a subtle smile on his face. Unfortunately the smile was quick to fade as Clarissa waited for them, stamping her foot in the dirt. She didn’t say anything, instead she grabbed Mari by the arm and marched her to the cottage. Mari knew what she was going to do. She was going to sit her down and yell at her about abandoning her duties. Mari just hoped that she would appreciate the warm meal tonight.

“Clarissa I-” Mari tried to explain as they marched up the hill, but instead her sister gripped her arm tighter, sending a pang of pain through her. She was more upset than Mari had anticipated. All she had done was leave the village for a few hours and come back with dinner for the night.

Her sister threw her down in front of the sheepfold. Mari picked herself up and looked around. It was empty.

“Where-” She began, but realised she knew the answer to her question already. She had never locked the gate. They were gone.

“I hope that dinner tastes good tonight. It’s the last one for a while” Her sister said with biting anger. “The elders are having a meeting as we speak to decide what to do with you.” Clarissa pushed her towards the cottage. “I’ll get you when they’ve decided.”

Mari sat inside and listened as her sister slammed the gate and marched away from the cottage. She hadn’t prepared any of the usual comforts. None of the candles were lit, the hearth wasn’t burning, no food was on. The only thing there was her uneaten porridge from the morning, on its surface flies had taken to it and died, stuck in the sticky food. She pushed it away from her and laid her head in her hands. She wanted to cry but her body wouldn’t let her. Crying was for when you had been wronged. This time she had wronged somebody. Not just somebody, everybody. But she had proved she was a better hunter's apprentice than Jack. In the one afternoon she had been with Fowler she had returned with a kill, more than he’d returned with, in the week of afternoons he’d gone out. Everyone had their job in the village, sure, but why couldn’t her job be something she was good at?

“Wake up”

Mari jumped awake. She hadn’t noticed herself falling asleep. Her neck and back were stiff from being slumped over the table, and her face was dried and cracked with tears. Apparently she just couldn’t cry when she was awake.

“Come on,” Clarissa urged. Her anger from before wasn’t gone, hidden beneath a layer of social requirement.

“Where are we going?”

“The square.” Her sister answered, showing her the way out the door. Mari followed dutifully, Hands together and head low.

“What are they going to do with me?”

“With you… nothing”

“Nothing?” Mari asked, hopefully. Her sister stopped and crouched beside her.

“Just because your actions don’t have direct consequences for you, doesn’t mean they don’t for others” She grabbed her hand and set off again.

“So, if they’re not doing anything to me… where are we going?”

“We’re saying goodbye.”

“Goodbye to who?”

“To the men”

“What?”

“We need to move”

“And that means all the men have to go?” Mari asked, horrified.

“Oh silly child, you’re not old enough to know what anything means.” Clarissa paused at the bottom of the hill once more and brushed her fingers through Mari’s hand and wiped her cheeks. “Best you look presentable. We can’t have Hughes see you looking like this.”

“Hughes is going too?” Mari screamed.

“Every man child. Every man.” Her sister sighed. She looked her over and walked her to the village square.

The square was illuminated in orange flame, a bonfire burning in the centre. The two piglets had been cooked and were being served up. The whole village had gathered around the fire, enjoying the meal. Even Isabella, cradling the newborn in her arms, sat at the edge, with Jack cooing at the baby. Yaga smiled a broad toothless grin to her village and waved her staff high, hushing the crowd.

“It is so good to see you all.” She chuckled. The atmosphere was not like Mari had expected. She had anticipated tears. Instead there was a warmth to the event.

“I truthfully do not get to see you all enough, but believe me, I know the work you put in to keep Belgrain strong.” She beamed. “Everything you all do is important. Especially whilst husbands and fathers, brothers and sons are off…” She looked at the children in the crowd, crossing eyes with each of them, even Mari. “Fighting dragons. And for that I must say thank you, to each and everyone of you. Your efforts, and your sacrifices will not be forgotten.”

The fire crackled, catching a log, sending a flurry of sparks into the night sky.

“Unfortunately for us, sometimes the gods care not for effort. The rivers dried up, the fields arid, the hunts harder and the sheep gone. This place, Belgrain, our hill, is no longer sustainable. It is with a heavy heart that I say we can no longer stay here and I must invoke the right of ahwær. Many of the young ones won’t remember the last ahwær, and I truthfully hoped for it to remain that way, but alas. It must be so. Men, fill your stomachs, say your goodbyes and leave henceforth. The sooner the better.”

Mari looked across the sea of faces, dancing in the orange firelight, their tears playing beautifully in the flicker. She remembered the feeling all too well from when her father left. She held onto that feeling when she was alone, when she was sad, whenever she missed him and as much as it was painful, she needed that feeling. And she needed that feeling from Hughes too. She glanced across the top of the crowd, searching for his towering figure, to say her goodbye, but he wasn’t in the crowd. She pulled away from her sister's grasp and ran towards the gate. There were three carts lined up, ready to leave, but only one had candles burning. She ran towards it and hopped on the front, next to Hughes holding the reins.

“Hello Mari.” He said, through an exhale of smoke. She grabbed him around the waist and pulled herself in tight, hugging him as best she could, her arms unable to even reach halfway around him. His robe smelled of smoke and ash. She inhaled deeply, remembering the smell.

“It’s ok. Everyone has their job in the village, remember? Even if they don’t like it, they have to do it.”

“Like looking after the sheepfold” She laughed through the tears.

“Exactly like looking after the sheepfold. Your job now, in my absence, is to look after the village. Keep everyone on the straight and narrow. Can you do that girl?”

“Yes.”

“I knew you could. And when I return you can tell me stories this time, all about it. Ok?”

“Ok”

Hughes ruffled her hair like he always did and hugged her tight. And after far too short a moment he plucked her up and placed her down off the cart.

“Ready Jack?” Hughes asked, peeling back the fabric from the tent on the back of the cart. “It appears the boy has gone walk-about. Mari, would you do me one last favour and fetch him for me? He’ll be with sister.”

Mari nodded, wiping a tear from her cheek and made her way back to the square. Jack was exactly where Hughes had described, nestled in his sister's arms, cooing his new cousin. Mari tapped him on the shoulder, not saying anything. He hugged his sister goodbye and set off from the square. Mari watched from afar, as his silhouette disappeared from the firelight, then she watched from closer as she followed making sure not to be seen, then she watched from underneath the cart as she tucked herself into the cargo space by the wheels. There was no chance she was leaving Hughes with only Jack to help him. She was going to make this right.