Page 59

Making her rounds in the morning left her feeling in higher spirits. Her clan had implemented her updated schedule and rotation, and it was nice to see something she had spent so much time on in action. At least she’d done something successfully.

After a warm, hearty lunch, Iryana bundled herself up, strapped on her snowshoes, and trekked up to the sheep pasture.

Thankfully, her uncle had already started to break the trail that morning, so Iryana had the easier job of offsetting her steps with his to help pack the snow down and widen the path. Still, it was exhausting. Her muscles weren’t built back up for snowshoeing yet. She was ill-prepared for the wider stance and the short, high steps required to break a trail.

As she trudged along, Iryana couldn’t stop reflecting on how different her life was going into this winter.

When Iryana had been alone in her cottage, she’d been rushing through an endless list of chores. Bring in more firewood and stoke the fire. Fill up a few sacks of hay and haul them into the barn to feed the animals. Fill the water buckets with snow. Melt enough snow for her to drink and make breakfast. Chop up frozen potatoes and vegetables to make a stew. On and on it went.

Things were much easier living at the main house, surrounded by her family. There was a joyous energy between them all that Iryana tried to embrace. Kladara even hit her with a snowball at one point while they were bringing in more firewood, making them both laugh.

It stood out because most of the cousins had been avoiding her the last few days, or were quieter around her, and Iryana couldn’t figure out why. She worried she was imagining it.

When Iryana came to the pasture, the snow only a few inches deep, she took a moment to lean against a birch tree and rest.

The pasture was dotted with gray and black short-tailed sheep. They weren’t the largest breed in Istri, but they were good in the colder mountains, produced strong wool, and had tender meat. The dakii loved to get their claws into the sheep, but there’d been a small herd hiding out when the Kleesolds had established the valley. Thanks to the sheep’s year-round breeding and larger litters, the herd had grown to something sizable that helped their village survive.

The spring and most of the summer lambs had already lost their black wool and turned a soft silver-gray everywhere but their heads and legs. But a few of the autumn lambs were still a dark black color that stood out against the snow.

There’d been a time where she’d considered becoming a shepherd and taking the sheep up into the summer pastures, alone, but with a purpose.

Iryana jumped when a loud bark came from her left. A fluffy white dog tore between the trees and circled her, practically dancing on its paws.

“Sorry about that!” Uncle Dinhal called, walking up to her with two more dogs prancing around his legs.

Iryana just laughed and bent over to scratch the dog behind its pointed ears, down its thick coat, and then through the fluffy tail that curled over its back.

She loved the dogs; it was a shame they were only in the village during winter.

They never seemed to feel the weight of the world around them. They were all instinct and joy. Sometimes Iryana wished she could live like that.

The dogs were herders in the warmer months, helping protect the sheep in the mountains and keeping them together. But now that the sheep were close by for the colder months and no longer needed to be watched as closely to keep them safe from predators, the dogs were mainly used for sled-pulling.

They had two teams of dogs at the Dovaki Post and her Uncle Dinhal was working with their main caretakers and herders to help them transition to their new duties for the season. Iryana hadn’t driven a sled in years, but most of the village and clan were accustomed to it.

“Who is this?” she asked, still rubbing the dog’s fur.

Her uncle brushed some snow off his beard, smiling. “Yorgesh. And these two are Styopahn and Anima.”

“Ah, little Yoro.” A carefree smile lit her face. She stood as Yoro joined the other dogs and with Dinhal’s command, raced off toward the flock of sheep.

Uncle Dinhal rubbed the back of his head. “I’ve been meaning to bring something up.”

Iryana straightened, a tendril of anxiety coursing through her.

“The new assignments are not going well,” he admitted after a long moment.

Iryana frowned. Was that what everyone was upset about? She’d spent days combing through the usual watch schedules, chore distribution, and assignments before leaving for the temple.

“It’s more efficient,” she pointed out weakly. “Should be easier on everyone. And it solves all the problems everyone brought to me.”

Uncle Dinhal shrugged. “Edvar and Kladara always bicker if they’re on watch together, and it makes everyone with them miserable. Levek enjoys getting to spend time with the volunteers on watch. Uncle Byorsh prefers the afternoons when it isn’t as cold, says his leg hurts less. And Tonhald likes working with the unforged guardians, showing them the ropes.”

“But… this is less work. And they didn’t tell me any of that.”

He shrugged again. “You don’t have to change anything; I just thought you’d want to know the changes haven’t been… received well.”

Iryana sank against the tree, watching the dogs playing in the snow. “I don’t know them well enough. Just go back to the old schedule.”