Elvensty Page 5

  Aya nodded and gave him what she hoped was a friendly smile. “Thank you.” She bit her lip and stood there awkwardly for a moment before taking a bite of jerky. It was not bad, but it certainly was not the hot breakfast she was used to.

  “We can’t afford to start a fire,” Khomar explained, almost as if reading her thoughts.

  Was he? Aya brushed away the thought as she took another bite.

  She watched as Khomar wrapped up his Book of the Way and put it back in his pack. Apparently he had been reading it, and she was a little disappointed that he had not offered to read it to her. He then rolled up a big bear skin – that she just now realized she had been sleeping on – and put it away as well. “By going upriver as far as we did, we hopefully put any pursuers off of our trail,” Khomar explained as he finished packing. “They can’t know if we went up or downstream, and finding the point where we left the river will be very time consuming. They’ll not even know if we landed on the west or east shore.”

  Aya watched in silence as Khomar strapped his utility belt to his waist and then his great-sword onto his back. She had not really paid much attention to the sword last night. It was almost as tall as she was! She was reminded again of how much taller Khomar was than anyone else she knew.

  After he pulled his pack onto his shoulder, he pulled out a water skin and held it out for her. She gratefully accepted it and took a drink. Then she suddenly realized that she had not seen him eat.

  “Aren’t you eating anything?”

  “I’ll eat as we go. We have a lot of ground to cover.”

  She nodded dumbly. His answer caused her fears to trouble her mind again, and she was starting to feel weariness creeping into her body. She had not had nearly enough sleep, but then again, neither had he. Taking a deep breath, she allowed Khomar to take the lead and fell in silently behind him. She would just have to keep pressing on.

  The day passed slowly as the air grew warmer, but although it was another clear day, the light of the suns was not quite as bright as usual. The Crossing had begun. Each day from here on would get colder and stormier until the Crossing was complete.

  Neither of them talked much that day. Aya was just trying to keep one foot moving in front of the other as she struggled to keep up with Khomar’s longer strides. He appeared to be content to be alone with his thoughts, and Aya did not have enough breath to hold a conversation anyway. Several times as they traveled, Khomar would look back and call for a stop to rest, even though he did not show any sign of tiring. But each time, that sense of urgency and fear would start to overtake her, and after taking a brief drink, she would find herself motioning for him to continue. She even insisted on eating her lunch while she walked just to keep moving. She feared that if she stopped for too long, she would not be able to start again.

  As the shadows started to lengthen, a farmhouse finally came within view in the distance through the trees. Aya’s gaze became fixated on that building as everything else faded from view. Dimly she heard voices call out in greeting, and Khomar’s muffled response. Dark spots were dancing before her eyes as she stepped toward an open doorway. The world suddenly tilted to the side, and she felt strong arms catch her as she fell. There was a rush of sound, and then the world went black.

  She came fully awake with a start. She vaguely remembered being held in the night as nightmares continued to plague her dreams. She lay there silently staring at the ceiling trying to recollect where she might be. It was probably the farm house. She seemed to remember the Headmaster talking about a farmer on that day that now seemed ages ago. Her left hand drifted to the metal band she felt on her right arm and then she remembered: she was married.

  Realizing she was lying on a bed, she tentatively reached out her left arm and quickly found the edge. Her right arm extended further across the mattress. It was still slightly warm. Her husband had likely laid there in the night, but he was gone now.

  He was gone.

  She sat up in a panic. Two mornings had already passed since the night of their marriage, and they still had not had an acceptance ceremony. Until he received the cup of tea from her hand, he still had the right to reject her according to Jyrye tradition. Had she waited too long? Had he rejected her?

  Soft light shown through the nearby window indicating that sunrise had already past. She could discern voices talking beyond the door. One of them sounded like Khomar’s. The voices were normally pitched – just a normal conversation between two people. She allowed herself to relax slightly as she took a deep breath. He was still there. He had not left her yet.

  She swung her legs over and sat up on the edge of the bed. Her cloak and boots had both been removed and placed near the door. The room was simply adorned with just a bed and a small table with a pitcher and washbasin on top. This immediately drew her attention. She suddenly felt the desperate need to wash her face.

  As she stood, her muscles protested, and she let out a soft groan in spite of herself. She was unaccustomed to hard travel, but from the sounds of things, she had better get used to it. Who knew how long it would be before they reached their destination?

  She poured water into the washbasin and splashed fresh water over her face. Her fingers touched a lock of hair that fallen from her braid while she slept. Loosening the strands, she ran her fingers through her hair smoothing it out as best as she could before weaving it in a new braid. She quickly put on her boots and wrapped her cloak around her before opening the door and stepping outside.

  It was a small cottage with a fire pit near the center of the room where bright flames flickered. Two men, a Jyrye and an Auxule stood to one side talking quietly while a Jyrye woman warmed some fruit on the metal disk over the fire. The men turned as she entered.

  She stared as she realized the Auxule was Khomar. His transformation was almost complete. Gone was the flowing Jyrye clothing replaced with a fitted cinnamon colored tunic and rawhide breeches that disappeared into his laced up leather boots. His clothing accented his darker skin. Rough stubble had appeared around his jaw that caused his face to have a reddish hue. It was an uncommon sight in Jyrya where men were unable to grow much facial hair. She came face-to-face with the reality that she had married a foreigner, and she had no idea what this Auxule man would expect from her.

  His face broke into a warm smile. “Good morning, Aya. Are you hungry?”

  She nodded uncertainly, her mind still reeling. Khomar’s smile faded as concern filled his eyes, and she felt a twinge of fear. He pulled up a chair for her which she wordlessly accepted. He stepped over to the fire to get the breakfast the farmer’s wife was pulling off of the disk. She nodded her thanks and tried to give him a smile as he handed her the bowl. She quickly turned her attention to the food before her. It smelled delicious, and she was famished.

  “You’ve about four days travel before you get to Dhrudmon’s house,” the farmer was explaining to Khomar as Aya started to listen in on their conversation. “Today will be the hardest, but the terrain levels out somewhat afterward. Fortunately, you’ll be going over the pass before the cold sets in.”

  Aya frowned. Four days, and the Crossing was already in its second day. Just how cold would it get before they reached Dhrudmon’s house?

  “Are you feeling better this morning?” Khomar’s voice cut into her thoughts, and it took her a moment to realize the conversation had turned to her.

  She nodded dumbly as she took another bite. She was not sure she trusted her voice just yet.

  Her husband was watching her intently. “If you are up for it, I would like to leave as soon as possible to maintain our lead.”

  She nodded as she swallowed her food. “I understand,” she managed to say. “I’ll keep up.”

  He frowned but seemed to accept her word. Khomar was already getting himself ready to go as Aya completed her breakfast. As soon as her bowl was emptied, the farmer’s wife was there to take it and wish her safe travels. Khomar thanked their hosts for their hospitality and aid. Aya noted that Khomar’s pack bulged with additional provisions of food for their journey.

  The farmer had agreed to lead them to where the path to Dhrudmon’s cabin began, further up in the woods and away from the road that ran near the front of their house. This road, he had informed them, led up into the hills and split about a day’s travel north. The more heavily traveled road lead to Fleggland and the other to the village of Virados in the Wylds. Aya thought both sounded preferable to their current course that was going to lead them higher and deeper into the mountains and away from civilization.

  The trailhead was only a half mile from the house. “Stick to the trail, and you shouldn’t have much trouble,” the farmer spoke again to Khomar. “I will cover any tracks that we have made and ensure that no one follows you up the trail.”

  “Thank you,” Khomar replied gratefully.

  The farmer smiled and nodded before retreating back toward the house.

  Aya glanced toward the trail. It did not look too bad from here as it meandered through a grove of slender trees. Their bark was white, and their leaves were beginning to turn a brilliant yellow. The suns’ light was a little redder and dimmer than the day before, but the air was still clinging to the warmth of summer. A soft breeze was rustling the leaves, and the sound of birds filled the glen. It was truly a beautiful day, but Aya’s fears and uncertainties kept her from taking any joy from it. She looked at Khomar and saw that he was watching her thoughtfully. She shifted nervously under his scrutiny and looked away.

  Without a word, Khomar led the way down the trail as Aya fell in again behind him. The feeling of foreignness still plagued her as she watching his hulking form move with a grace that belayed his size. She suddenly felt incredibly small and vulnerable. Did he even want her, a Jyrye, as a wife? Had she given him any reason not to reject her? That thought troubled her greatly but she was at a loss of what to do. It was taking all of her strength just to keep up with him.

  Her thoughts drifted back to that night when this all began: her wedding day. When the Headmaster had gifted her to Khomar, she had prayed hard. She had known from their conversation in the chapel that Khomar was a strong Follower of the Way. She also knew her father, who had an unshakable faith in God, had a knack for somehow knowing events before they happened. Her father would not have left her guardianship to the Headmaster if he had not been convinced that God was directing his choice. When she had been given to Khomar, she had felt a peace flow through her as if God had given His approval. Now she was not so sure.

  It was at that moment that she remembered it was Lumsday, the first day of the week. Far away in the capital, Followers of the Way would be gathering at her father’s house for the Fellowship. If she were there, she would be sitting with friends giggling over something. Her father typically would stand up and read stories from the Book of the Way and answer questions. She always played her lute as they would sing the simple songs of the faith they had learned. But her father was no longer there, and neither was she. Who would teach them today? Would they still sing songs? Would they even meet at all? The thought made her ache inside.

  Her thoughts drifted to the morning before she and her father had arrived at Elvensty. He had spoken of his relationship with her mother. They had both been strong empaths. Her father explained that when two empaths married each other, they formed a link, a combining of their abilities that allowed them to share each other’s emotions and sometimes even thoughts. Her parent’s link had been exceptionally strong, but then her mother had succumbed to an illness that had swept through Jyantral. She had crossed over into God’s hands, and the pain of the separation and loss nearly killed her father as well. It was only by his clinging to God’s strength that he survived those difficult years of raising his little girl to adulthood alone.

  Her father had concluded by telling her to remember to always trust God no matter what may happen to her. His short time with her mother had been some of the most fulfilling years of his life. He had no regrets. God had ultimately sustained him when she was taken from him, and even that had been worked for good in his own life.

  Could Aya trust God like that, even if Khomar rejected her?

  “I think we should rest for a moment,” Khomar’s voice broke into her thoughts. Startled, she glanced up at him and saw that he was already pulling his pack off of his shoulder. She started to ask why when he continued, “We are going to start climbing up toward the pass soon.”

  She frowned. How did he always seem to know what she was going to say? Was he reading her thoughts again? She reached out tentatively with her mind and once again hit that stone-cold block. He was still blocking her, somehow. She grunted and turned her attention to the path ahead. Sure enough, the path turned sharply to the left and started to climb. Her eyes followed the path until it turned sharply again in the opposite direction but higher up the mountainside. As she lifted her gaze, she saw that the path criss-crossed again and again all the way up to a valley perched high between two taller peaks. Just the sight of it was starting to make her dizzy.

  “It looks harder than it really is,” Khomar said in a soothing tone. Had she really looked so concerned? “It’s called a switch-back. It makes the path less steep, though it takes longer to reach the top.”

  Somehow she did not feel too comforted.

  She accepted a piece of jerky and flatbread and made herself chew it. The warm breakfast of that morning was already a fading memory.

  “I’ll be right back,” Khomar said as he set the pack down.

  “Where are you going?” Her voice sounded more shrill than she intended.

  “I thought I might look for some walking sticks,” he said, giving her a side-long look while pulling out his hatchet. “Will you be alright?”

  “Of course I will,” she snapped nervously and chewed her jerky with more vigor, trying not to look as scared as she felt. Khomar said nothing as he stepped off of the narrow trail into the surrounding trees. While she waited, her gaze drifted back up to the winding path ahead. While there were a few trees here and there, the trail was mostly exposed to the suns. There was a cool breeze starting to come down the mountainside, so she would probably appreciate the warmth. But there was something that troubled her even more.

  When Khomar returned with two walking sticks a few minutes later, she asked him, “Khomar, if the Tynesprys are following us, won’t they be able to see us while we are climbing that trail?”

  He nodded thoughtfully as he handed her the shorter of the two sticks. “Yes, they could. I was wondering the same thing. But I don’t see how we have much choice. Hopefully they won’t be close enough to see us, assuming they are even following us at this point.”

  She frowned at that, but he had a point. What choice did they have? Still, she did not like the thought of being exposed for the next few hours. “How long will the climb take?” she asked nervously.

  “The farmer said that it would be about four hours to the top, giving us time for several rest stops. We may not make it far beyond the pass today.”

  “Well, then I guess we should probably get started,” said Aya, setting her shoulders with determination. She resolved not to show any more weakness and pushed down her fear. She needed to make a good impression.

  Khomar led again, and they began the ascent. At first, it did not seem too bad. The path, while narrow, was relatively clear of roots or debris, and the slope was fairly gentle. But soon, her legs began to burn as she strained muscles she had not really used much before. They rested several times over the next few hours but only long enough to catch their breath. Each time, she found her breathing more difficult in the thinning air. The wind, meanwhile, was growing colder and harder, and wisps of fog were beginning to roll down the mountainside. The weather was beginning to turn.

  As the hours dragged on, Aya’s gaze became focused only on the path immediately before her. She found herself leaning more and more on her walking stick, and black spots were starting to float before her eyes. She gritted her teeth as she willed herself forward, but as they rounded another turn, she suddenly felt the world tilt as her foot slipped on the rocky ground. She barely kept her balance as she fell to one knee.

  Instantly Khomar was beside her, kneeling down with a hand gently gripping her arm. “Aya, are you alright?” His voice was filled with alarm.

  “I’m fine,” Aya tried to protest, but the world was still spinning, and she was starting to feel sick to her stomach. “I just need to...” Her voice trailed off in spite of herself, and she felt her body tilt dangerously.

  “Here, why don’t you sit down?” Khomar said quickly, his hands gently guiding her to sit on the ground. He shook his head with frustration. “I have been pushing us too hard,” he chided himself audibly.

  Aya’s breath was coming in gasps. It was all that she could do just to stay mostly vertical and keep her lunch within her stomach. She kept her thoughts focused on breathing. One more breath. And then another. Slowly, over what seemed like forever, her body started to settle down.

  “You’re looking a little less pale,” Khomar said, and she could hear the smile in his voice. She felt a water skin press against her hand. “You should drink a little. We’ll wait here as long as we need to. I don’t want you passing out on me again.”

  His tone was light-hearted, and she knew that he was trying to make her feel better. But she still felt a shudder of fear. She had shown weakness again, in spite of her efforts. What must he think of her?

  Khomar let his pack slide to the ground and took off his great-sword before sitting down beside her. “I forget that you are not used to the high elevations,” he continued. “Until you get used to it, it can be very difficult in the thin air. The air will continue to get thinner until we reach the top, so we should probably take more breaks from here on.”

  She felt his arm wrap around her shoulder tentatively, but she involuntarily tensed at the touch. He withdrew his hand, and they sat in silence for several minutes. She chided herself for deterring his attempt to comfort her, but she could not undo what she had done.