Maerek stretched and looked up at the Blades. The mountains still seemed distant, as if it would take an age to get there. He shivered slightly, worrying about the distinct absence of memory concerning that place in the song of his keep, or the song that Boshk, left to him.
“I’ve got some chamomile and mint if you want a calming tea,” Thomas said.
“Tea isn’t going to get him across,” Japeth said flatly as he checked over the suon, not even looking back. “We need to be on the other side of the last hill by this evening. Tomorrow we enter the pass. If we are quick, we might spend two days in darkness.” Japeth looked over his shoulder at Maerek as he continued to walk. “And if we play our hand right, we might live to see the other side.”
As the journey continued, Maerek continued to push the cart, aiding the suon in his burden. Keane slowed slightly and waited for the cart to pass by. As it did, Keane walked next to Maerek and aided in pushing the cart forward.
“Japeth always gets a little sour when we come close to the pass.”
“I took no offense,” Maerek said.
“I didn’t expect that you did,” Keane whispered. “I know that the likelihood of your death within the pass is minimal, but that is not the case for my group. Do all you can to ensure our safety.” Within that last sentence was an inferred understanding. If the situation called for it, Maerek was to reveal his secret to protect the traders. Maerek furrowed his brow.
“Have I not done so already? You must recall that the fulfillment of my oath is dependent up our success. I will do all I can to ensure our passage to the desert.” Maerek hoped that these words, heard by the other traders, translated into “Are you sure?” for Keane’s ears.
“See to it,” he said sternly. Yes!
The traders didn’t speak much to each other as they started their ascent of the last hill. Even Ledría was fearfully quiet. The switchbacks up the hill were just as challenging as the previous ones, and the same amount of effort was needed to guide the cart and suon around each bend. The decline of elevation on the eastern side of the hill was minimal. As evening came, the group stood at the base of the Broken Blades.
Rocks and broken stone, some with thick veins of blood colored quartz running through them, lay strewn about the trail. The dirt also had a reddish hue to it. Intermixed among the forest of pine trees were massive granite boulders the size of houses, left over from glacial deposits eons ago. The air was dry and crisp, flowing down from the frozen peaks slopes of the Blades. In the elevation, Maerek found that even he breathed in a little deeper, working a little harder for each breath. The bulky mass of the blades, even at this closeness, seemed to reach up and pierce the sky. Those same peaks, even as close as he was to them, seemed illusorily distant and untouchable. Jagged scars cut onto the face of the mountains from the slow retreat and advance of the glaciers in the changing seasons.
As the sun began to set, and its orange glow canvased the forest, the warm light beamed against the granite and snow. The enigmatic scenery of the massive mountain range changed from a bland gray and white to and deep purple slope, snow caps and glacial scars changing to pink, red and magenta. The evening birds began their singing as the wind rushed over and through the trees. Maerek shivered at the sudden chill.
He continued to look at the Blades as the traders broke off to start setting up camp. It wasn’t for their beauty he stared, but in remembrance and commitment. The group would spend two days in total darkness, at a minimum, with dangers that only the traders knew of. There was still a half-day’s journey until they reached the entrance into the mountain range. The trail was covered with rocks, shallow tree roots, and coarse dirt. From what Maerek guessed, it appeared to be a steady incline up to the pass. The cold, icy wind from the snow cover peaks rolled down the mountain range, lowering the temperature considerably. On the wind, Maerek could smell a faint stench of cockatrice, different and more pungent than the ones that Simmons’ held. The group would need all of their strength to make the next leg of the journey and then two days of hiking in darkness and silence.
Ledría came up to Maerek, wrapped her arm around his and laced her fingers in his hand. Maerek tensed at the sudden gesture of kindness, but then felt a sudden surge of warmth Seep into his palm, up into his arm, and into his chest. He exhaled slowly, tense shoulder and neck muscles releasing, jaw unclenching and a calm settling over his body.
“Thank you, for… for getting me back to Aelex,” she said slowly. “For forcing me out of that. I never thanked you properly.”
“Speak no more of it,” Maerek said, placing his other hand around hers. He then nodded up at the mountains. “I have no song of this place, only fear, foreboding and warning. It makes me uncomfortable.”
“We all are afraid, Maerek,” she said as she slowly released his hand. “You have protected us, helped us, helped me. Considering what we have been through, this might be the easiest part of the journey.” She smiled and Maerek smiled back.
“Thank you for sharing your gift with me, just then.” Maerek took another calming breath.
“Speak no more of it,” Ledría said in a low, jesting tone. “Come, help set up camp.”
A fire was made from broken limbs of trees and dead underbrush with orders from Japeth to keep it large and bright through the night. Wolves, cougars, bears, and other large beasts would be warded off from its flames and sound. Watch shifts were to be done in pairs.
Japeth double checked, and rechecked the cargo in the wagon, counting and recounting, moving and adjusting boxes and crates to fit in a tight, snug manner. Keane checked and rechecked his arrow shafts, limb of his bow, and his bowstring, drawing it back multiple times before nocking an arrow and plunging a couple field points into a nearby tree. Naeru and Aelex looked over the cart, checking the axel, wheels, harness for the suon and other tack. Thomas walked a short way into the woods with an axe to find a couple dead trees to use for extra fire wood.
Maerek set up a large tent by cutting down three trees and creating a tri-pod. The canvas was wrapped around the structure just as it was done a couple nights before. Dinner was modest meal of dried fish, drier biscuits washed down with warmed chamomile and mint tea. The fish and biscuits were filling enough, and the tea was a mild relaxant to help the group rest. Maerek and Keane passed on the drink, as they would have the first watch.
After dinner, Japeth again checked over the supplies and the wagon. Maerek grew nervous seeing a seasoned veteran in anxious commotion the day before a journey. Keane, on the other hand, was relatively quiet during the first part watch as they both stared into the crackling fire, taking turns adjusting the coals and placing another dry log atop them. As soon as the snores and sounds of sleep could be heard within the tents, Keane let out a long, low sigh.
“About time they fell asleep,” he whispered. “Tonight, may very well be the last night you and I have a chance to speak together openly. When we enter the pass, it will be done in complete silence and complete darkness. After the pass, it is downhill to the edge of the desert where we will trade with the nomadic tribes and a few private parties and entrepreneurs of Tessír. You will take your passage with one of the groups who are headed toward Noiknaer. That isn’t to say that we trust any of them a great deal, but enough to take you there safely. You wanted me to teach you how to be human, but there isn’t much time.
“Being who you are, your tone and vocabulary are very astute, very formal. That will fare you well in government Council, or at least when speaking to a politician, but as far as most people are concerned, if you sound like one of them, dress like one of them, and act like one of them, you are one of them. Your massive intellect will aid you to learn from those you will associate with. As an immigrant, you will be able to get away with more cultural mishaps to cover any gaps you might miss. It will give you time to learn.”
“An immigrant? What about a backstory?” Maerek asked. “Where would I come from? You know I cannot lie.”
“I never said to lie
, but you don’t have to tell the whole truth either,” Keane let out a slight chuckle. “No one else knows what you are, or where you came from. The same story you shared with us can be shared with others once you save the female. When you are in Tessír, tell people that you come from across the Blades well outside the city of Ruiska. If you make your way back to the Wiles, say that you came from Tessír. Both places are so foreign to each other, it will be enough to satisfy the curious.”
Maerek looked into the fire, staring again at the flickering embers, picked up a nearby stick, and prodded the coals with it. What Maerek said and didn’t say was out of survival, out of fulfilling an oath, out protecting not only his life, but his species. His future wouldn’t be much different. If he wanted to protect his future family, deceit and deception from his true identity would need to become a part of his life.
This new path he would take, living among humans, deceiving them, hiding both he and his mate, and future off spring away, it wasn’t the way dragons lived. It wasn’t natural. Being in a cave, among familial musk, hunting together, celebrating unions, hatchings, early morning rises and flying at autumn moon-set, that was where he belonged. As he recollected back into his songs, he thought back to what Tamera, his cousin had mentioned. Those memories, those feelings of family, those songs and experiences, they didn’t belong to him. He chronicled them, and though he could experience them as if they were his, a part of him yearned to go back, to swoop down from his perch, to take part in feasting, dancing, flying, singing, and earlier courtship.
“I’m sorry if I’ve caused offense,” Keane said as Maerek continued to stir the coals, a portion of the stick collapsing into the fire pit.
“No, you haven’t caused offense. The hunting, those that are behind it, they are the cause of this need to deceive. I’m alright now,” he said as he continued to stir the coals with a stick. “My memories are too real, too recent… too painful still.”
“What more could you have done?” Keane asked.
“Nothing. Only anger remains toward the hunters, toward their crimes. If I had it my way, I’d have stayed in that cave with Boshk and ensured that each hunter’s blood was spilled in kind. But as it stands, I have an oath to fulfill, and I must do all that I can now, to fulfill and keep my promise to rescue her.”
“You were able to stop Simmons,” Keane interjected.
“There will be others to replace him, I am sure. He was the first of many hunters I wish to sink my teeth into.” Maerek clenched his hands into fists and slammed them onto his thighs. “In a way, I hope that she does not take me as a mate. I would live among your kind and kill every last one associated with that band.” Maerek relaxed his hands, closed his eyes and slouched. “But the blood they drink, the way it changes them, only an instantaneous, violent, and immediate death would end them. I’m not even sure that poison would cause injury.”
“The tainted blood is far above my skill,” Keane said. “But I am sure you will find a way.”
“You place too much confidence in this dragon’s wisdom. Moving Mountain would’ve thought of something, some reason, some detail that I am failing to grasp. But that is another mystery left for another evening.” Maerek pulled the stick from the fire and brushed off hot coals on one of the split logs that burned. The evening air was crisp and cool and reminded him of the winter nights in Moving Mountain. He could smell a small herd of deer not far off, slowly circling the camp. Something wasn’t right, their step-sounds were too long and too close together for a deer. “But you speak truthfully. I deceived your band of traders. I take it you trained yourself to speak like these men for the same reason you are going to teach me to speak like your countrymen?”
“If you talk like them, act like them…”
“Then you are one of them.”
“Tell me more about your people, your countrymen. What are some festivals or cultural practices of your homeland?” As Maerek asked his question, he drew two parallel lines in the dirt. Between the lines he drew a quick x with a line underneath. He then tapped his leg and drew a circle next to the fire, taped Keane’s leg and drew another circle. Behind the circles, and on the other side of the line, he drew four X’s. Keane nodded when Maerek finished his question.
“One of my favorite festivals is on the first day of winter,” Keane started as he walked over to the wagon and pulled out his bow and a quiver of arrows. “Each year on the same day, hunters, woodsman, soldiers, and any other physically fit young man, or woman for that matter, come to compete for medals. I always enlisted in the archery competition.” Keane gripped his bow and strapped the quiver around his waist. Then carefully drew and knocked an arrow. Maerek placed his small stick into the fire, grabbed a small log, and placed the tip into the bed of coals. “Before I left, I was the champion of archery five years running. There were boxing matches, wrestling, hatchet and knife throwing competitions, sword play, feats of strength like boulder tossing, log tossing and my personal favorite to watch, the cart pull.”
“Would you care for a friendly competition?” Maerek asked, the end of the small log now burning.
“Always,” Keane replied, smiling.
Maerek pulled the log from the fire, turned and threw it into the woods. The fire lit log whizzed through the air and illuminated its target in an orange glow. The target was already turning to run, but the log struck him square in the back of the head. Three others rushed toward the campsite and were quickly struck down by Keane’s arrows. Groans and cries of pain sounded around the campsite.
“What’s going on out here?” Japeth yelled as he made his way out of the tent. He pulled a hatchet from his belt and was looking for a target to imbed it in.
“Wait here,” Maerek said as he sniffed the edge of the forest. He ran into the forest and picked up the smoldering log in one hand, packed the guard that lay unconscious on the ground over his shoulder and laid him in front of Japeth.
“They aren’t traders of any sort I’ve seen before,” Japeth said, bent over the young man. “They aren’t even traders. Look at the armor, knee length chain link over a white shirt, brown trousers reinforced with leather padding, and a simple metal steel helmet covering the back of the neck. I bet if I turn his head…” Japeth turned the armored man’s head to look closer at the helmet. “Yep, right there, the two dueling serpents. These are Tessíran guard!”
“I’ll go get the others,” Maerek said, heading back into the forest. Keane followed closely, another arrow nocked.
The first victim was hit clean through his sword arm and was pinned against a tree. The guard was squatting down, his face visibly pale in the moonlight. The guard tried to lift his saber with his other hand, but his arm shook violently as he prepared to strike.
“Don’t move too much,” Keane said, kicking the saber away from the guard. Keane felt around the collar and chest of the guard, and finding nothing, squatted down in front of him. “The arrow I struck you and your fellow guards with was tipped with poison. I have the antidote in a vial… one vial, to be precise. If you want to live, you will answer some questions.” The guard nodded and moaned in pain, his purple neck veins darkening as his muscles flexed. “You have one chance to be honest with me. Why were you stalking us?”
“We were ordered to,” the guard said slowly, his voice hissing in effort. As the guard spoke, Maerek noticed a wetness that ran down the back of the guard’s ears and across his neck. It was too thick to be sweat. Maerek wiped his finger across the gel like substance and held it closer to his nose. Cautiously, he tasted it, and recognized the scent immediately. It was deer urine. Keane nodded and walked over to another guard. The arrow struck in the left thigh but was not very deep. The guard broke the shaft and pulled out the arrow, attempting to crawl away. He lay on the ground, one hand on his wound and the other covering his eyes. Keane searched his neck in the same manner, said and asked the same phrases and question, and received the same reply.
Keane walked to the third guard and examined him and ask
ed the same question he asked the others. By now, Naeru, Aelex, and Thomas were out of their tents and trying to understand what occurred. Japeth put a finger to his lips, ordering them not to say a word.
Keane went back to the camp fire and looked at the other guard who was unconscious. Keane searched the man’s wrist, belt, and lastly, the guard’s neck.
“Found one,” Keane said as he pulled a necklace from the guard. It was a silver chain with a three-pronged amulet. “He’s a lieutenant in the Guard. He seems a bit young for his rank. This must have been a special mission to risk one so talented.”
“Either that, or they are desperate for recruitment,” Japeth said, spitting on the ground.
“Whatever the reason, they were hunting us. Their necks, and probably other parts of their body, are covered in a gel derived from deer urine. That was why I couldn’t smell them. Luckily, I could hear them coming. Their swords and armor, the way they moved, they were trying to be inconspicuous. We need some more answers.”
“You promised an antidote,” one of the guards said weakly. The traders looked at Keane. Keane shrugged.
“I didn’t know you carried poisoned arrows,” Thomas said.
“I’ll explain later,” Keane replied. “Do you have your medicine pack?” Thomas pulled it out of the cart, put the strap over his shoulder, and brought it to Keane. Keane rummaged around for a small vial with a pasty white, viscous liquid. “I need more answers.”
All four guards were brought to the fire, their hands and feet quickly tied. Keane began to ask some questions.
“Why were you ordered to hunt us?” None of the guards spoke. Each stared into the fire. Naeru was about to strike out at the lieutenant, but Keane told him to be patient. “Remember, one vial,” Keane said, holding it in front of the guards. “Your late Captain taught you that the pain is good for you.”
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