Tree Singer

The trees grew further and further apart and they found themselves walking through an arid section almost barren of trees. A closer look showed that a fire had swept through the area recently. Dust tickled Mayten’s nose and clogged her throat. She was parched and tired but refused to ask for a break.
On they went, trekking up and down hills, on and on and on until even the trees looked the same.
When the sun beat straight down on them and Mayten thought she couldn’t take another step, they stopped for lunch.
Cather and Mayten went off into the bushes to relieve themselves while the men did the same in another direction. Anatolian searched the bushes for his lunch.
“I can’t stand this anymore,” Cather said as they headed back to the others. “Can’t stand you shutting me out like this. I told you I was sorry. What more do you want?”
What she wanted was to be left alone, but Mayten didn’t say that. She forced herself to take a moment, to understand why she was so angry.
“It just surprised me,” she finally said. “I felt so foolish. Like everyone knew except me.”
She stopped and turned to her friend. “Don’t you think my mom could have told me?” The words tumbled out. “She knew before anyone else. Why didn’t she . . . I just felt so stupid up there on that stage. It was like . . . like getting hit from behind.”
Cather’s lip quivered. Before she could say anything, shouts rang out up ahead.
“Tray, quick, climb the tree. It’s a wild boar.” Mayten recognized Hunter’s voice.
“Tray’s in trouble.” Cather darted ahead.
Straight toward the commotion.
“Cather, stop,” Mayten called, running after her. Cather was a clan dweller. She didn’t know the things a homesteader knew, didn’t know a boar could rip you apart with their sharp curved tusks.
As they drew near, Cather stopped. Mayten grabbed her from behind and held her tight.
“The men are there. They’ll help Tray. There’s nothing we can do.”
Mayten slammed sideways as Anatolian rushed toward the ruckus.
“Anatolian, come back!” Panic seized her in a stranglehold. A dog was no match for a boar!
A tree about ten feet ahead swayed violently. She couldn’t see the boar through the thick brush.
But she could see the tree’s branches.
“Look!” She pointed about a third of the way up the tree. “Tray’s safe.”
Tray looked terrified, clinging to the thick branches, his eyes tightly closed.
“Help, help,” he yelled. “Get it away from me!”
Anatolian barked and the tree shook violently. Mayten held Cather back, forcing her to crouch behind a bush that smelled strangely pungent. She couldn’t see her dog, but he sounded more excited than threatened.
Where was Adven? And where had Hunter gone?
She bit her lip and looked around for something to throw. If the men weren’t going to help Tray, it was up to her and Cather.
She needed something to get the boar’s attention.
Mayten refused to think about what would happen once she got that attention. They’d likely end up in a tree, like Tray.
Better than walking . . .
The thought almost made her giggle.
She finally found what she was looking for—a branch as thick as Oleaster’s arm. She snatched up the branch . . .
And paused.
How many times had Da told her that boars weren’t opportunistic attackers? They would avoid you if they could and attack if you got between them and their piglets.
But they didn’t stalk people.
She put her finger to her lips and beckoned to Cather. They crept closer and Mayten pushed aside the bush’s thorny branches.
Adven crouched at the base of the tree, rocking the trunk with his shoulder while Hunter crouched close by, making loud snuffling noises. Anatolian jumped around them, barking with glee.
“What are they . . .” Cather’s voice trailed off as she realized what was happening. She jumped to her feet.
“Stop that,” she screamed. “Stop it right now!”
The men looked at each other and burst out laughing. Adven sank back on his heels and Anatolian sniffed him, then started licking the man’s face.
Adven shoved the dog away, scrubbing at his face with his sleeve. Cather stomped up to the men, fists planted on her hips, looking as though she might punch one of them.
“Tray, come down,” Mayten called. “There is no boar.”
He opened his eyes and looked down at the men still chuckling. He carefully climbed down the tree until he could jump to the ground. He glared at his uncle with fists clenched.
“That wasn’t funny,” he said, his jaw tight.
Hunter gave Cather a cautious glance before turning to Tray. “Come on, think about it. Would we let a boar send you up a tree like that? It was pretty funny.”
Tray stood perfectly still for a long moment. Then his frown turned to a grin. A chortle escaped his lips and soon he was laughing just as hard as the other two. The men slapped his shoulders, mimicking his panicked screams.
Mayten shook her head in disgust as she pulled Cather away. If she’d been the one up the tree, she’d be furious. “Men. I’ll never understand them.”
Cather looked like she’d been the one chased by the boar. She took a deep breath and rubbed at her chest. “I was so scared, Mayten. What would I do if . . . I’ve never told him how I feel.”
Mayten put an arm around her friend and felt her own heart rate slow. “They ever try that on me, somebody’s gonna die.”
To her surprise, Cather giggled. “I’ll be sure and stay out of the way.”
Hunter yelled that it was time to go and they fell back into line. The men continued to laugh and joke as they walked and Cather and Mayten brought up the rear.
It felt right to have Cather at her side. She’d missed the closeness the two of them had shared ever since they were small.
“I know Adven wants to get to the castle as soon as possible, but I’m never going to get a chance to listen to the trees if he keeps this up.” Mayten didn’t realize she was thinking out loud until Cather made a sympathetic sound.
“All this