When I’m set free,
I soar, I glide.
I tame tomorrows,
I offer shade,
I make the fearful,
Unafraid.
I’m a rope with no end,
A sword and a shield,
No army can match,
The power I wield.
On occasion I’m lost,
Or tossed in the fight,
Downtrodden, beat,
My hands bound tight.
But a shout, a stand,
A smile, a jest,
A meal, a drink,
A good night’s rest,
A swing on a tree,
an orange, a kind deed.
How little it takes,
for me to be freed.”
The wordy merchant was unexpectedly quiet. He looked out at the busy camp with me, watching the children playing, watching Jase eagerly talking with settlers, and he wiped his eye. “Splendiferous,” he finally whispered.
* * *
Jase left to stake out the new homes with Caemus and Leanndra, the representative of the settlers. He was eager and animated. He had great plans for this expansion. Besides building ten more homes, he had sent enough lumber for two more barns, a work shed, a mill, and a large schoolhouse.
In the first months after all the destruction, funds had been tight for the Ballengers, but the settlers had rolled up their sleeves and pitched in. They’d had a bountiful harvest and cooked and served food for all the workers Jase had hired to help rebuild the town. All the Ballengers were grateful to them. But during Jase’s weeks in the root cellar as the settlers nursed him back from the brink of death, his bonds with them had deepened in a whole new way. They were family. He wore a tether of bones at his side now, just like they did. Meunter ijotande. Never forgotten. This settlement was in his blood now, and he had a passion to see it thrive.
I sighed as Jase disappeared from view behind a knoll. We hadn’t had two minutes together to even talk today before he was whisked away by duty, and I wondered if I’d be able to steal a moment with him at all.
I noticed Mason, first looking at the horses, and then skimming heads as if searching for something.
“Looking for someone?” I asked.
“Jase said Wren and Synové were coming. Priya was looking for them.”