Fire and Thorn

by Mary Vee

  Chapter Fifty-Four

  Moonlight shone brightly on the path. Gilbert led Promise onto the trail.

  “Sire? Couldn’t we go back to Aerlis?” asked Jonathon. “I don’t want to die.”

  “No.” As king, he had to stand firm. “We’re committed to this quest.”

  “But if this volcano erupts while we hike down to the Valley of Sharon, it’ll seal off our only way home.” Jonathan paused. “We’ll be trapped in the desert, sire.”

  “And if we return to the kingdom without the rose, Aerlis will be destroyed,” said Gilbert. “We can either be trapped in a kingdom controlled by dragons and evil men or only possibly trapped in this valley. I’d rather take my chances in the desert. We have to finish this mission for the sake of our people.” He stepped over a large rock.

  A dusty salmon sunrise woke the morning desert colors through a sandy haze. The steep trail gradually leveled. Gilbert climbed up a boulder and mounted Promise. His team also prepared to ride. They rode by lifeless old trees with branches that hung by bark threads. The trunks appeared ready to crumble and break at any time.

  By the laughter at the back of the line, Ben had kept the squires busy with one of his crazy stories. Their guffaw made Gilbert laugh despite the rising temperatures radiating from the valley.

  After rounding the first switchback, the trail steadily tapered. Brush and large rocks closed in on the path. The air dried Gilbert’s nose and the heat made breathing a chore. The brighter sunlight didn’t reveal any life other than scrub plants and a few scattered cacti on the desert floor.

  “How can a rose grow in a place like this?” asked Daniel.

  “This is the leeward side,” said the steward. “It hardly ever gets rain. Once we reach the bottom, I will show you how deserts have their own beauty.”

  “Drab browns with a few green specks is not beauty.”

  “You must see beyond what you know,” said the steward. “The more I look at this valley, the more I see new life. It’s different from what we’re used to, but it’s there. Survival in a desert is no more difficult than survival on say, the sea, in a grassland, forest, mountain, or plain. Each has benefits and trials.”

  Gilbert slowed his pace as he approached a curve. He looked over the edge. The trail wound far beneath them on a steeper slope. He turned back to his team. “Dismount. Lead your horses on the next section of trail.”

  “Yes, sire.”

  Gilbert slid off Promise, hugging her side as he lowered himself to the ground. He carefully maneuvered in front of her and guided her a few tentative steps forward. Dry, crumbly soil slid out from under his feet. He wobbled and grabbed onto a rock for support. “Walk slow, Promise.” He turned his feet sideways and continued down the trail, tapping the ground with the ball of his foot before each step. One slip could send him and Promise over the edge.

  None of his team made a sound. “Is everyone doing all right?”

  “Somewhat.” Jonathon’s voice shook. “I was wondering, will the horses be able to keep walking on this trail? Like I said earlier, we can still turn back.”

  Having never traveled this way, Gilbert didn’t know. The trail didn’t seem to change ahead. Narrow and steep. Jonathon didn’t need to know that. Their job was to push forward as the trainer had taught them. He answered, “Yes. They’ll be fine.”

  “I don’t know, sire,” said Justin. “The footing isn’t firm. What if someone falls over the edge or gets hurt?”

  Gilbert had his concerns as well. He thought about how the trainer would have answered and said, “We’ll work together. Katia brought herbs and bandages to care for injuries. Stay focused. You’ll do fine.”

  Gilbert stepped forward. A small rock crumbled under his weight. He lost his balance and slipped forward, tumbling to the ground and careening close to the drop-off.

  He pawed at Promise’s lead rope, wrapping it around his wrist for stability. “Stay, Promise.” He held tightly, sliding farther down the path and dragging Promise forward before his foot came to a stop. His heart pounded hard. He struggled to catch a breath. Gilbert rolled over and pushed himself up to his knees then stood.

  How he responded would either encourage his team or cause them to turn back for home. He bent over, set his hands firmly on his thighs, and took a deep breath then another before brushing the dust from his clothes.

  Charles cleared his throat. “Uhh, sire.” His voice cracked. “Maybe we should find another path.”

  “Are you crazy, Charles?” Ben yelled. “Don’t you remember the mountain trembling? We need to get down as soon as we can. I say keep going.”

  “The trembling stopped, Ben. It probably never was going to erupt, anyway.”

  “We don’t know that for sure. I’d rather take my chances on this trail than to boil in a river of lava up there.”

  “Ben. Charles,” said Gilbert. “I chose this way for a reason. The other trails had problems too. Greater ones. We’ll have to make the best of what this one throws at us. Consider it knight training.”

  They were unhappy. He didn’t care at this point as long as they stayed focused on finishing the quest.

  A single flower with dark leaves and snow-white petals appeared on the side of the path. It stood tall and leaned. “Steward, isn’t that a lily?” It almost glowed.

  “Why yes, sire. How odd, that a flower of this type would show up here.”

  Yes. How strange. He scanned the desert for the rose. Even at this lower level, nothing but brown and green shaded the ground.

  The sun slid across the morning and afternoon sky. They hiked a few more switchbacks before the lack of sleep bore heavy. Gilbert yawned. Even if the bright star appeared, he didn’t think they could find the rose without some sleep. He searched for a clearing to make camp.

  The next curve was the steepest they’d encountered. Boulders lined the sides of the path and narrowed the corridor. Little by little, they rounded the corner. Sand coated sweat dripped down his brow and tickled his cheek. Once safely around the switchback, he looked ahead and found a clearing. It was small but big enough for the team to squeeze into the space.

  The journey became more difficult than they had tackled in any of their training. His friends could have turned back several times, they even asked to. But these friends, chosen by his parents long ago, stayed by his side amidst the dangers.

  He walked Promise to a scrawny tree by a rock and tied her securely. “There’s a clearing after the switchback. We’ll camp here tonight.” Cheers echoed from farther up the path.

  One by one the team filed into the opening. When Katia arrived, she quickly dismounted and handed her horse’s reins to Daniel. “Take care of him for me, please.” She left him and walked to Gilbert. “Can we speak privately, sire?”

  “Sure.” They moved to the other end of the clearing. “What’s wrong?”

  “I’ve kept a mental inventory of the food we’ve consumed so far.”

  “We should have plenty. Don’t we?”

  “Well, sire, we had the delay while cutting through the thick laurels. We also lost many supplies during the battle at the Diaphonic River. In my estimation, we’re dangerously low.”

  Gilbert shrugged. “Then we’ll have to hunt.”

  “Yes, sire, but I don’t think that’ll be enough. Our water is nearly depleted, and hunting is difficult in a place like this.”

  “All right. Ration what remains.”

  Katia walked the short distance to Pokey and rummaged through satchels less than a quarter full of stores. She filled her arms with figs, dried pieces of smoked fish, and crusty bread. “We can’t hunt on this narrow trail tonight, squires. Here is something to tide you over until we can. Perhaps something tasty will cross our path tomorrow.”

  Katia took the last portion of the meal and found a somewhat flat part of the wall to lean against. She pushed strands of hair from her sweaty face.

  She was amazing. As far as he knew, she hadn’t received any training, yet she rode as
well as a squire, kept up with the demands of climbing the mountain, tended the meals, and never complained. She had to be tired and as hot as they were, yet she served with a kind and compassionate heart. How did she find the strength?

  The squires laid out blankets and sat down to eat. Ben set up his sleeping area near Charles. “Guess we’re sleeping under the stars again.”

  “I don’t mind. I like seeing the starry sky as I drift off.”

  “Sure, as long as a scorpion doesn’t walk across your face.” Ben laughed.

  “What scorpion? Is there a scorpion on me?” Charles jumped up and slapped at his body.

  “No, I’m just teasing. Go to sleep.”

  “I’ll get you back for that, Ben.”

  “Sure, sure. I’m scared.”

  Charles rolled his eyes and flopped down on his makeshift bed.

  Gilbert wrapped himself in a blanket and lay back. A sparkling starry sky spanned above him. The squires talked about the day and located constellations before drifting into snores.

  He didn’t remember falling asleep when a bright star woke him. A thin line of dawn barely broke the dark. He popped one eye open and quickly blinked it shut when stunned by the dazzling light. He pulled the blanket over his head, then rolled onto his stomach. Nothing helped. He sat. “I’m up, I’m up, already.” Faster than an arrow flies, the light disappeared.

  The steward yawned. He turned toward the king. “Are you all right, sire?”

  “Yes, yes. I can’t sleep, that’s all.”

  The squires lifted their heads, looked around, then rolled over and closed their eyes. “It’s too early,” Jonathon said.

  “Everyone up,” said Gilbert. “If I can’t sleep, neither will you. Break camp. The goal is to be in the valley by the next nightfall.”

  Chapter Fifty-Five

  Gilbert couldn’t sleep another minute. He remembered Christmas Eve as a child. Waking before his parents. Running to their room with his nurse close behind and hearing her say, “Not yet, Prince Gilbert. We must learn to wait.” He laughed for only a moment before the sadness of his father’s death returned.

  The squires packed in a half-awake stupor, gulped down hastily brewed gruel that only half filled their bowls, then mounted.

  His sleepy team hadn’t looked ahead. “The path is still too steep to ride. Dismount.”

  Ben yawned and forced his eyes open. “I knew that,” he chided himself and got off his horse.

  Dry, powdery soil broke free from the path and tumbled over the edge with each of their steps. Puffs of dirt mushroomed into the air. The horses stumbled, sliding on the brittle, rocky earth. Gilbert tightened his grip on Promise’s lead and patted her neck. He spoke gently to help the frightened creature down the scary trail.

  Their pace slowed to a crawl.

  “Sire, did you notice the path is now only three feet wide?” asked Daniel. “My horse’s side is rubbing against the rocky wall.”

  “Yes. Promise has brushed against the wall several times too. Drape your blanket over her. Let it hang on that side. Maybe the path will widen soon.”

  As the sun rose higher in the sky, the squires expressed more concerns about the treacherous trail and sharp drop-offs. Pebbles tumbled over the edge, echoing as they bounced against the rock face to the lower levels.

  No sooner had the steward inched around the next steep curve than his horse’s hoof jiggled on a rock. Crusty earth slid over the edge, rattling as it bounced, and silencing everyone. Gilbert spoke to Promise, “You are doing fine, girl. Keep going.”

  The steward held the lead rope taut and dug his heels into the ground. Still, his mare rocked back and forth, struggling to find her balance. He braced his good leg by the horse’s hoof and spoke to her. His bad leg shifted, knocking his walking stick from his hand. It careened over the side, silent in mid-air at first. The team stopped, leaned over the edge, and listened to the bump, bump, bump as it bounced down the face of the mountain.

  Relieved that only the walking stick fell, Gilbert said, “Are you all right?”

  “Shaken, but well, sire.”

  “Good.”

  Charles whistled. “Ooooowee! The valley is much farther down than it looks. Don’t worry, Steward. I’ll find you a new walking stick later.”

  “Thank you, Charles.”

  The next portion of the trail widened, at last, and the slope leveled, somewhat, allowing Gilbert to pick up the pace. They arrived at the next switchback in rapid time. Even the curve was gentle compared to others. He looked ahead, beyond the next turn and sighed. The path took another steep descent.

  He slowed the pace and spoke again to his faithful destrier. “You’re doing fine, girl.” Although she slipped on some small rocks she kept going, proving her great value to former kings and knights.

  They had hiked far on the often-treacherous path. To keep their spirits up and rest the horses, Gilbert searched for the next available place to stop. They followed the trail across the mountain and down the next curve before meeting a wide, flat space.

  Gilbert tied Promise to a tree growing out of a rock.

  “This break will be very helpful, sire.” The steward tied his horse next to Promise.

  “I agree, Steward. We’re all hot and tired.”

  Daniel and Sybil arrived next. Their conversation stopped suddenly when a low-pitched rumble thundered from up the path. An avalanche of rocks and dirt tumbled down the side of the mountain followed by clattering, clanging, screaming, and more clattering.

  “Step aside.” Gilbert ran up the trail, around the switchback, and higher up the path. Ben and Charles leaned over the edge. He moved closer and gasped. “The supplies!” Tinderboxes, water, utensils, fodder, dry wood, salt meats, clothing, all splattered down the mountain. “What happened?”

  “Poor Pokey stumbled on a rock, knocking it loose. A snake slithered from underneath straight toward her,” said Charles. “I tried to calm her, but she spooked. The supply load became unbalanced. I’m sorry, I thought we packed it better. Ben and I moved closer and spoke gently to settle her, but most of our supplies had already fallen over the edge.”

  Daniel, Sybil, and the steward arrived at the disaster site. They stared wide-eyed down at the supplies. The last of the water dripped over the edge and soaked into the ground.

  Sybil and Justin sat on the edge, and swung a leg over, ready to climb down. “We’ll rescue the supplies, sire.”

  “Go. See what you can do.” No sooner had the words left his mouth, when a fierce gust of wind whipped up from the valley and soared past them with the power to sink a tall ship. They cowered flat to the ground nearest the wall and wrapped their arms around their heads. Tiny grains of sand pelted them with fervor. They huddled together for such a long time before the wind died. When it did, they ran back to the edge and looked down. “Where did the supplies go?”

  “My pots. Where are they?” It was the first time Gilbert saw a tear in Katia’s eye. “All my cooking tools. They’ve vanished. Every last one.” She squeezed her eyes shut and moved her lips without making a sound.

  Hawks, vermin, tortoises, lizards, and snakes appeared from nowhere and scavenged the few pieces of food that remained.

  Gilbert turned away from the sight and stared up the mountainside. Two vultures perched on a branch several feet up. They glared at him as if daring him to give up and die.

  He fell to his knees and looked out at the desert that seemed to offer them nothing. Not even a drop of water. How they would survive, he didn’t know. They’d lost everything. He drew in a deep breath unable to think much less form a plan.

  He sat in silence and listened to his thoughts. The Count’s last question before he left, the words from his father’s journal, his grandfather’s poem, and Uncle Roland’s advice all said the same thing. Ask the Great King for help. He hadn’t listened to any of them. This whole mess was his fault.

  Another moment drifted away before a bold resolve burned inside. If it wasn’t too late, he�
��d follow the advice, starting right then. “Listen. We are all upset. I am too. There is one thing we can do to improve this situation. Kneel. Right now. Right where we are.”

  “You want us to kneel, sire?” Charles scowled. “On this narrow, slippery path where we’re all scrunched? How will that solve anything?”

  The steward scowled. “Just do it, Charles.”

  Katia bent before anyone else and gave a tender smile to Gilbert. The others wiggled uncomfortably down on the rocky surface to their knees.

  He waited for his team to still then spoke the first words that came to his mind. “Great King, ruler over all, I’m sorry I’ve never spoken to You before this time. I was wrong. Advisors recommended I seek your help and I didn’t listen. I’m here now. I admit I can’t finish this quest much less be a caring king without your guidance.” He paused then said, “We’ve lost everything. Our food. Our water. Other supplies. Please help us fulfill the quest spoken of in the Sacred Book.”

  A weird sense of happiness sparked deep inside. He couldn’t explain the peace that said no matter what happens, all would be well. He had no other proof than, well, he didn’t have proof. He just knew deep down.

  Gilbert stood and looked out at the valley that didn’t have any oasis, streams, or waterfalls. It did have plenty of sizzling hot sun. Still. In his heart, he knew everything would be all right. “There is a place to camp ahead.” He walked past his friends down the path.

  Daniel’s eyes followed him. “Wait. That’s it?”

  “We kneel and he says a few words to the Great King?” complained Justin.

  “We’re hungry and thirsty,” Jonathon shouted. “What will we do for food and water?”

  Charles tugged on the lead rope for his horse. “I can’t believe he just walked away. He’s doing nothing. Seriously?”

  Sybil closed her eyes. “My mouth is as dry as that desert.”

  “We’re never going to survive this,” grumbled Jonathon.