Fire and Thorn
Page 27
The steward stirred the dirt with his cane, drawing lines then pushing the sand over the shapes. “You have mentioned the words of wise men who hold to the teachings about the Sharon Rose. I’ve tried to understand the mysteries of the empire. Once, I asked your father to explain the importance of this particular flower. He became angry and yelled as if I’d accused him of failing the kingdom. I never asked again. For this reason, I have no answer for you.”
When Gilbert was quite young, his father smiled and laughed a lot. As the years passed, though, little things irked him rousing his anger. He neglected his duties, his staff, and even the queen.
Oddly, something in him changed over the last few weeks. He announced the picnic in the Banyan Tree Forrest. He called meetings with his staff and addressed kingdom needs. Shortly after, the crops looked healthier, and the sun shone brighter. The people wanted a tournament. He granted permission for the grand kingdom event. No one knew what caused the change, but the kingdom and his father seemed happy again.
“He was mad at me up until those last days before his death.” Gilbert inhaled deeply. He put away the crushing memories of his father. “The air smells good, and I’m with friends. No use looking back. For now, we must focus on the quest and whatever it brings for the sake of the kingdom. We should be able to reach the top of the mountain by tonight, don’t you think?”
The steward faced him. He raised his eyebrows. “Really?”
“I know I’m not the best at judging distances, but goal setting is good, right?”
“I suppose lofty goals instill motivation, sire.” He hoisted himself up with the walking stick.
Gilbert stood and looked at the wide field ahead of them, so full of life, and wished all of Aerlis looked this way. “We’ll ride to the base of the mountain then search for a path leading to the top.”
“That idea is much better, sire.”
Gilbert called out to his team. “Break camp.”
The squires and Katia had established routine assigned duties. They packed and mounted faster than before and since the horses had rested, Gilbert set a quick pace across the meadow.
The foothills angled gently, making for an easy initial ascent. Sweetly scented grass swayed in the wind. Yellow and orange butterflies sprang into the air. Maybe because this part of the journey lifted their spirits they covered more land in less time.
Like most mountains, the base had many layers. Gradual inclines stretching to steeper climbs. They stopped at the top of the first level and looked back. “I’ve never seen this far,” said Daniel. “Can’t find the Diaphonic River yet though.”
Justin turned his horse to face the view. “Wow. This is the farthest I’ve traveled away from the castle. I can’t believe how much there is to see.”
Gilbert shaded his eyes from the sun and searched the land ahead for a horse trail leading up the mountainside. Beyond the plateau, a rabbit family scurried under a bush. Near it, a marker protruded from the ground. “There’s a path over there. Let’s go.” He nudged Promise, but she shook her head, whinnied, then reached down for a tasty grass snack. Gilbert waited then nudged her again. “Come on, Promise, get moving.” She lifted her head then trotted forward, leading the other horses across the plateau.
The marker was no more than a red stained stick at the opening of the path wide enough for the horses. They entered a trail that curved sharply to the south and hugged the mountain. Huge rocks cluttered the trail, forcing them into a single line up the steady and gentle incline. Farther up, the trail narrowed and traveled along the edge. There wasn’t a barrier to protect them from falling.
“Sire,” Steward spoke softly. “Turn your focus far out toward the meadow. Don’t look down or at objects nearby. Rely on Promise to stay on the trail.”
Beyond the depths below and reaching out from the mountain lay the peaceful meadow they’d crossed that morning. He drew in a slow, calming breath. “Thanks, Steward.”
Ahead, the path angled back to the north. Promise slowed, maneuvering the tight switchback with her large body. After a few steps, she settled back into her normal gait.
Steward groaned as his mare took the turn. Gilbert looked back. “Are you all right?”
“Yes, sire. Charger leaned into the switchback and pressed my injured leg against a boulder.” He slowly let out a breath. “I’ll be fine.”
Gilbert checked on the others and watched them complete the turn. He patted Promise on the neck. “You’re doing a great job, my friend.” She nodded and gingerly stepped over rocks.
The second switchback proved more of a challenge. Promise struggled on the trail. She teetered then found her footing. Gilbert urged her on up the path until the last horse rounded the curve, then commanded her to stop. He turned back and said, “The climb is too steep, and fog is settling ahead. Dismount and lead your horses.” He eyed Steward’s injury and added, “If it would be easier for you to ride, you can.”
“I think I will, for a little while longer, sire. Walking might be more difficult than riding, even on this slope.”
The squires and Katia slid off their mounts along the inner mountain wall. They took hold of their mares’ lead ropes and inched in front of them.
The higher they climbed the thicker the fog became. It blocked Gilbert’s view of the last riders. “Steward, relay a message back to maintain a buddy system, listening for the rider in front and behind them. Keep close to the inner wall and shout if there is a problem.”
Gilbert gently tugged on Promise’s lead rope, but she refused to move forward. He stepped back, stroked her mane, and rubbed her nose. “I know you like to lead, but we’re not going to make it up this mountain if we don’t help each other. Are you ready, Promise?” She blinked and whinnied. He pulled her lead rope again. This time she complied.
The cloud thickened as they climbed, blinding him to more than a few feet ahead. Concerned they might walk straight off the edge, he watched for signs of the next switchback and listened to the messages passed among his team. He couldn’t hear all they said, but their voices indicated how well they did. After a while, the squires stopped talking. “Steward, can you see the others?”
“No, sire. But I can hear them moving. They’re progressing as instructed.”
Even Ben didn’t tell a joke or tease anyone. Fear kept them all silent. Traversing the narrow trail in fog with no place to stop for encouragement would bring discouragement. He considered the previous switchbacks, all with a wide-leveled space. If nothing else came along, they could stop at the next one. Or not.
The way this quest was going, his team would squeeze into an open space, then, while waiting for the fog to lift, someone would sneeze, knock into someone else, and cause everyone to tumble over the edge, screaming and clawing in a futile attempt to save their lives. He sighed and kept walking.
Uncle Roland said the quest would be difficult. Gilbert didn’t expect it to be this bad. Since his father completed the quest, though, he resolved not to give up no matter the cost.
Moisture in the fog carried faded voices from the end of the line to him. “Charles, keep your horse from swishing its tail in my face.”
“I asked her to help you with your poison ivy, Ben.”
“Ha. Ha. I don’t need any help. I’ll slow my pace instead.” And that was the end of that short conversation.
They trudged up the next section of mountain trail mostly in silence. Remnants of white mist stuck to the air and ground like paint. The squires’ steady steps and the pounding of the horses’ hooves gave the only clue they’d kept up with him.
Three steps farther, Gilbert sensed the trail flattening under his feet. “There is a switchback. Steward. Warn everyone to slow down and prepare for the turn.”
Chapter Forty-Nine
Gilbert’s legs ached. The others complained too. The hike felt like they’d climbed stairs. Thousands and thousands of dangerous rocky stairs. He paused for a rest before taking another step. “How are you faring, Steward?”
“I hope so.”
His team needed visual help. One yelled, “Can’t you keep your horse moving?” And another shouted, “It’s not my fault you rammed into mine.” By the time they reached the fourth switchback, the shouting stopped.
“Sire?” said Katia. It was the first time she spoke on this trail.
“Is something wrong?”
“I’m…I’m having difficulty breathing. If we can’t stop, can we at least slow the pace?”
“Steward, pass back this message. Stop where you are. Move to the rock wall side of the path. Take time to drink and rest. Remind them to hold onto the reins or lead rope.”
Gilbert opened his water skin and gulped a few mouthfuls. He poured some into one hand and gave it to Promise. “Do you see the sun working to dissolve this cloud, my friend?” She looked up and whinnied. “Maybe the path will clear in a few hundred feet. I’d like to see where I’m going, wouldn’t you?” Promise nuzzled her nose into his shoulder. “Well, we won’t know unless we get moving. Are you ready?” She nodded.
Gilbert placed his water skin back in the satchel then said, “Do you feel better, Katia?”
“Yes, sire. Much better, thank you.”
Her voice rang sweetly on this clouded trail. He was so glad she came. “Very well, let’s keep going.” Gilbert guided Promise forward one cautious step at a time. Gradually, as he’d guessed, the cloud dissipated. Thin wisps of mountainside broke through his line of sight, and more of the path became visible. Even the footing seemed secure.
Ahead, a low rumble startled Gilbert. He stopped and searched through wisps of fog. The rumble changed into a growl. He inched forward, but Promise refused to follow. She snorted and scooted back. “Don’t worry, girl, I’ll protect you.” Gilbert unsheathed his sword. Slowly he stepped. Listening for sounds. A thread of a cloud swirled past him. He stood armed, ready to face the challenge.
The fog vanished.
Only a few feet ahead, in the middle of the path, stood a black wolf. It bared its teeth and growled. The animal’s white belly and snowy paws had red stains. Blood dripped down its leg. The wolf snapped then moaned yet held its stance.
Gilbert inched back to the saddle and took out the water. He poured some into a cup and carried it a few steps. He slid his foot forward, barely lifting it. “I have water for you. Would you like some?” The wolf snarled. Gilbert kept eye contact and took a few more steps forward. “I know you’re hurt. We’ll help you.” He set the cup on the ground. Without blinking he crept backwards to Promise.
The wolf’s tongue dangled as the animal padded to the water. It slurped wildly then jerked back. Gilbert reached out his arm. “Do you want help?” The wounded animal cocked its head and hobbled off the path and out of sight.
“The poor creature, it must have been in a fight with another animal.” Gilbert listened for any other creature before continuing up the trail.
The path snaked higher up the mountain. At each new level, the slope grew steeper with less vegetation. Around a bend, a clear, flat open area appeared with sprigs of plant life. “Tell the others we’ll stop there,” Gilbert called back to the steward.
One by one his team crowded into the tiny space, leaving the fragments of green spots free for the horses.
Wisps of cloud blew away. Jonathon and Daniel sat on the edge and looked out to the west. They pointed to familiar sights. Daniel squinted. “I see a thin blue line with little green sprouts.”
“I see it too,” said Jonathon. “That’s the river. We’re higher than I realized.”
Ben wedged himself into a small opening and bent his knees to fit. “I’ve never seen this much land at one time, sire. It seems to go on forever.”
“And we are only looking at Aerlis,” said Sybil. “Look, there’s the thick line of forest we cut through. It doesn’t seem so bad from up here.”
“Well, I remember the chopping, mosquitoes, bear, and my all-time favorite, the poison ivy oatmeal cure.” Ben rubbed his hands together massaging new blisters. “Look over there. The meadow is too far away to see all the foxes and deer. Sad how the animals don’t live near the castle and villages like they used to. Years ago, when we first became pages, the trainer gave hunting lessons, using small game that wandered near the castle.”
Plump white clouds drifted closer and cast shadows on the meadow. Ben reached out. “I could almost touch these clouds. This is an amazing view.”
“It’ll be even better from the top.” Gilbert checked on the horses. They’d stopped eating. “Let’s get moving.”
One by one, the squires wiggled free from the small resting place, took hold of their horses’ lead ropes, and reformed the same line with Gilbert in the lead.
Around the next bend, the path grew even steeper and so narrow the horses barely fit. Gilbert slowed the pace. Huge boulders hung over the path. In this dry climate, he couldn’t tell how stable they were.
Ben told a joke, his voice echoed off the rocks. The laughter was good, but the noise could bring the boulders crashing down. “Steward,” Gilbert spoke softly. “Tell them to proceed in silence. The boulders up ahead don’t appear stable.”
The closer they drew, the lower the boulders seemed to hang over the path. To pass the next obstacle, the horses would have to lower their heads and shoulders. Poor Promise had to dip lower with her larger frame. She protested. “Promise, this is the only way. We don’t have space to turn back. Come on, girl, you can do this.” He coaxed her with pieces of grass and pressed her to lower her head and shoulders until she passed under the boulder. He walked her farther up the trail where he found a small flat area and tied her safely to a tree, then ran back to help others. “Steward, do you need help dismounting?”
“I can manage, sire.” The steward winced as he shifted his weight to his injured leg on the dismount. With only inches of earth to maneuver, he slowly lowered himself, groaning as his foot touched the ground.
Gilbert took the horse’s lead rope. “A clearing is up ahead. I’ll guide your mare under the boulder. Here’s your walking stick.”
“Thank you, sire.” The steward bent down and grabbed onto the rock wall for support. He shuffled through the passageway and sighed when at last he reached the other side.
After leading the steward’s horse to the clearing, Gilbert ran back. The rest of his team successfully pressed through the pass until Pokey, the supply horse, arrived.
Ben dismounted and handed Charles his mare’s lead rope. He flattened his back against the mountainside as his horse passed him before tugging on Pokey to move forward. She refused to take a step. He looked at the space then at her and all the supplies tied to her saddle. “Sire, Pokey will never fit through this small space.”
Chapter Fifty
Gilbert ducked under the boulder hanging over the path like a roof. He looked at Pokey. “You’re smart.” He stroked her mane. “You knew you couldn’t fit through with the supplies piled on you.” He turned to Ben. “I have an idea. I’ll be right back.”
He walked through the passage then called to the rest of the team gathered at the clearing. “I need everyone’s help, except Steward, you stay with the horses.” The squires followed him back to the small opening. “Form a line starting where Pokey is standing. We’ll pass the supplies through by hand. The last person stacks them in the clearing.”
The squires worked fast, removing the supplies then guiding Pokey through the passage. The sun sat close to the horizon when they finished the job.
It had been a strenuous day and the clearing offered enough room to camp as long as they didn’t set up their tents. The clouds dissipated, clearing the sky for some amazing stargazing.
They unpacked blankets and staked out their sleeping spaces between the rocks and close to the inner wall of the mountain. Katia scrounged through the supplies for the
evening’s meal.
Several squires crept close, eying the food in her hands.
She quickly hid the meat behind her back. “Wait your turn, you vultures. We’ll all eat at the same time.”
Smoked fish aroma stirred Gilbert’s hunger too. He walked over to her, sniffing the treasure. “I didn’t know you brought smoked fish.”
“I had a feeling we might have to camp where we couldn’t hunt or locate water readily, sire.”
“Good thinking.” He picked up the stack of bowls and brought them to her.
She cut the fish, placed equal portions along with a hunk of bread, and left them for everyone to take. They gobbled the tender, flaky fish morsels and hunks of bread and belched as any youth would then cleaned up the mess.
Sybil and Daniel volunteered for the first watch. The others settled under comfy blankets. The cool, fresh, night air lulled them into a deep, restful sleep.
Gilbert had enjoyed a peaceful rest the last several nights. It seemed the choice to go on the quest instead of to Malum kept the dragon dreams away. He looked up at the stars then back at the valley they’d crossed. As his eyes closed a green glow flickered in the distance. He opened his eyes and looked again. A beautiful shimmering green glow swirled in the sky. The hues deepened to a dark jade then diminished into a soft summer grassy green and back to a rich emerald shade. He shut his eyes, sealing them tightly against any suggestion of dragons, and drifted into a dream world.
The air weighed heavy in this place. Every breath became a chore. A creature sat on a throne to his left. It had the appearance of a dragon. Not a scary ugly monster. This was a beautiful and majestic creature, much like the one Matthias described in Malum.
It spoke in a low, almost fatherly voice. “Gilbert, I have watched you lead your valiant squires to their doom on this treacherous trail. They’re not trained to endure the battles they will face in the coming days. Did you forget my words? My promises to you? Everything you need can be found in the ruins of Malum. Come closer and let me share an easier way to accomplish your goal. I have a comfortable chair for you. Yes, that’s right, step over here and listen to my advice. Closer. Yes. Keep walking.”