Ambrosius opened his eyes the next morning just as the sun began to warm the frigid air. He slowly sat up and noticed something different from the other days. Although the room was tidy like always, there was a pack sitting on the center of the table. Alongside it was a Runestone. He also noticed his wooden staff leaning against the chair. Thorik had fashioned a thumb grip at the top of the staff, ideal for negotiating inclines.
Standing up and moving over to the table, he pulled out a chair and sat down to investigate. He opened the pack to find various hiking gear and rations. “He’s packed my bags for my trip.”
Disappointed that he was not able to sway Thorik, he took in a deep thoughtful breath and considered his options; wait until he was fully recovered or take his chances now on his own. His frustration in not knowing what exactly happened at the Mountain King’s Temple was fueled by the idle time that he had had in the small village. He felt unproductive in helping others that could have survived the Temple’s destruction, uncomfortable in not knowing how the council was located and destroyed, and furious in knowing the assassin was victorious and roaming free. “Where would your next attack be? And if not me, who would be there to stop it?”
Utilizing the wooden staff to lift him from his seat, he threw the pack over his shoulder and grabbed the Runestone to begin his long hike to Kingsfoot. Glancing around the little cottage, he commented to Thorik who wasn’t there, “Thank you for your help, my friend. I understand why you wouldn’t want to leave this peaceful place.”
He tossed the stone in the air before him and caught it as he turned for the door. Stopping just before opening it, he looked into his palm at the rune in the center of the hexagonal stone. It was the Runestone of Symbiosis. Puzzled for a moment, he suddenly realized what it meant. “I knew you would come through for me.” Although Thorik couldn’t possibly hear him, ironically the Num approached the door from outside sharply after the words were spoken.
The door swung open and Thorik walked in with a handful of blankets neatly folded after being freshly removed from the clothesline. “Good morning. Do you feel strong enough for a hike upstream today?”
“I’ve climbed the east face of the Shi’Pel crest, I think I can handle a little tour in the woods,” he said with a smile. “I’m glad that I could change your mind about helping me.”
Thorik set down the thick blankets and walked to the kitchen area. “You didn’t. Looking into my student’s faces did.” Grabbing several pieces of fruit for them to enjoy on their trip, he tucked some into a sack before tossing one to Ambrosius. “How can I teach the words of the Mountain King if I don’t follow them myself?”
“Either way, I appreciate what you’re doing for me.”
“You’re welcome.” Thorik went back to his task of collecting items for the excursion. After lining up silverware, plates, oils and spices onto the table, he placed them into his own pack in specific locations around his wooden coffer to keep them protected. Instinctively, he kept the coffer hidden so Brimmelle wouldn’t see it and berate him for wasting his time.
Ambrosius stepped out the door into the sun’s morning rays peeking between the colored leaves in the trees. Closing the door behind him, he walked out onto the path to test his leg strength as well as Thorik’s recent modifications to the staff’s handgrip. It felt much better. Not as good as his old metal staff, but an improvement from the prior day. Walking up toward the hillside behind the cottage to test his leg capabilities, the outcroppings of rocks acted as an ideal site for stepping up and down. His legs were holding. Weak and wobbly, but holding.
Putting the last few items into their designated locations, Thorik was interrupted by a knock on the door to which he went to answer. He was surprised to find a small party packed for the trip. He had expected Gluic, seeing that she had agreed to help Ambrosius while Thorik would lead them to Kingsfoot. But he was disappointed to find two others had joined her.
“Brimmelle? What are your plans on this day?” He had hoped that Brimmelle strictly showed up to see his mother off on her journey.
The Fir raised his head and chest slightly. “You need a leader. I’m the obvious choice. And I brought Wess with us to ensure our safety from wild beasts.”
This was a direct insult to Thorik by his mentor, the Fir of Farbank. He was just reminded that Brimmelle felt he didn’t have what it takes to be a leader nor a protector.
Bringing Wess made it even worse. Wess had been malicious and condescending to Thorik, and yet he was a loyal follower of Fir Brimmelle and his teachings. The contradiction annoyed Thorik.
Regardless of any feelings Thorik had, he welcomed them both in.
Uncharacteristically, Wess politely thanked him. “You have done well for yourself, Dain.” Picking a few jars off the cupboard shelves, he read the detailed labels before setting them back with the labels facing the wall. “Your mother would have been very proud of how clean you kept her little shack.” For no apparent reason, Wess pulled a chair out as he rambled on before moving over toward the shelves of books and knickknacks. He observed several items by holding them to the light from the window and then setting them back down in new locations.
Brimmelle, meanwhile, had made himself at home by pulling up his normal reading chair and was entrenched in reviewing the Scrolls of Wisdom as though the journey was completed and it was time to relax.
By this time Thorik was slowly following Wess around the room trying not to look obvious as he turned the jars back so the labels faced out, pushed the chair back in and reorganized the various objects Wess had moved.
Stuffing a bright orange feather into her hair, Gluic looked at the group and shook her head in disbelief. “Are we going to Kingsfoot or rearranging your home? Take the lead,” she ordered Thorik, before looking at Brimmelle and Wess. “And I didn’t ask either of you two to come so you walk behind me. I’m not going to spend the next week downwind from you.”
Thorik tried not to smile as he grabbed his hunting bow and arrow. She knew just what to say to ruffle Brimmelle’s feathers and make Thorik feel better.
Stepping out of the cottage, Gluic turned upstream to head through the woods. Ambrosius was already waiting for the group. Approaching him, she adjusted a shoulder strap. “I see you’ve found your legs this morning.”
He nodded at her statement. “Thank you for your help.”
Pulling out a yellowish clear stone from a small sack hanging from her belt, she placed it in his right hand. “Moonstone,” she explained. “Releases all the tension and emotions you’re hiding inside you.” She reached up and pointed at his head. “And you have plenty of that up there.”
“I’ll be fine. Thank you anyway.” Ambrosius politely rejected her help by trying to return the item as she walked past him and into the woods.
“Well, of course you will be, as long as you do as I tell you.” Her soft but stern words stopped his returning of the gift. “Now hold onto that stone today. I’ll need to cleanse it tonight so you can use it again tomorrow.”
Ambrosius chuckled to himself at her odd leadership role and placed the moonstone into one of his pockets before following her through the trees.
Without looking back, Gluic notified Ambrosius, “I’ll strap that to your palm if you don’t take it back out and hold it on your own.”
Stopping in his tracks he had to give her motherly instincts a nod of praise as he took the stone back out and grasped it in his fist.
Thorik, Brimmelle, and Wess gathered their items and followed as well. Out the door and into the woods they went to catch up to the two in front who had no idea where they were going.
It wasn’t long before they were all together again. Ambrosius was the slowest, but then again he was the reason they were going. His focus was strictly on pushing his body through any pains that came about. Not overly mindful of the path, he wandered from side to side and requiring periodic assistance from Thorik. It was a more difficult hike than Ambrosius had suspected.
Shortly into the walk,
Wess and Brimmelle fell a few lengths behind the others to talk privately. Wess watched Ambrosius limp and stumble through the forest like some drunk after a long night of festivities.
“So, this is the one that has put a plague on us? This weak pathetic man,” Wess quietly said to Brimmelle. “Wouldn’t it have been easier to just sacrifice him to the Mountain King?”
“We will not taint our village with his blood. He is either the one that will save us or the one who will destroy us and I will not be the one who orders our savior’s death.”
Wess slowed their pace a bit more to increase their distance from the rest as they rounded a bend in the old unused path. “How much more proof do you need that he is evil? The river has been filled with dead fish ever since he arrived. Even with the great harvest we had, we will run out of food if he is not sacrificed and the fish return. I know that most of the others agree with me that-”
“Others?” Brimmelle interrupted. “Who else knows that we suspect him of carrying out the words of Portent Scrolls?” Brimmelle stopped Wess in his tracks and looked him in his eyes. “Listen here, Wesstiford Solen Frellican.” He pulled Wess close to him with a handful of his shirt. “I am the Fir, not you. I make this ruling and I decide who knows what. Is that understood?”
Wess was leaner than Brimmelle, several inches taller, and about half a life younger. Regardless of his physical abilities, Wess was not going to be disrespectful to a Fir. Disagree with him perhaps, but never disrespect him. Knowing how far he could push the issue, he nodded to Brimmelle signifying that he would obey.
Keeping his grip tight onto Wess’ shirt, Brimmelle relaxed his arms to give some distance between them. “Who else knows about this?”
Before he could respond, they both heard a voice in the woods from which they had come. A woman’s voice shouted Wess’ name. It was Emilen running through the woods trying to catch up to them. Her long curly hair bounced with each stride as it was loosely held together with several colorful hair ribbons in a single ponytail. Following behind was the youth, Avanda.
Brimmelle released Wess before they arrived.
Emilen joyfully approached the two while looking past them into the woods. “Where’s the rest of the group?”
Brimmelle crossed his arms and pulled his shoulders back. “Young lady, what do you think you’re doing?”
Ignoring his question, she walked past both of them and scanned the woods for a direction to travel. “We’re going with you. Which way did they go?”
The timber was very thick at this point but the river could still be heard to her left so she assumed she was heading the right way.
It seemed very cut and dry to the Fir. “Nonsense. Return home at once. This is no place for the two of you. Return to Farbank and watch Avanda for Wess like you were instructed.”
“My family lives in Kingsfoot and I want to see if they are safe. As far as Avanda goes, I can watch her while we travel,” she replied, before sighting Thorik and Ambrosius. “There they are.” Ignoring the Fir, she rushed forward into the woods before Brimmelle could utter a rebuttal.
Brimmelle stood silently and watched her run until she rounded the path’s bend. “Is she one that believes he is a savior or a demon?”
Wess finished straightening out the creases in his shirt. “Savior.”
“Unfortunate.”
“True, but perhaps I could persuade her to think differently.” Wess smiled as he viewed her leave them.
“You won’t get that chance,” Brimmelle noted. “It is not safe for Avanda out here.”
“She’ll be fine. We’ll all keep an eye on her.”
“Avanda is your responsibility until her parents return to Farbank in the spring. Take this seriously and order Emilen to return her at once.”
Wess was captivated by Emilen’s looks. It was difficult for him to stay in Brimmelle’s conversation. He eventually added, “It will be good for Avanda to learn how to travel. I’ll take care of her, I promise.”
“I don’t like this,” the Fir grumbled as Avanda arrived and then ran past them, following Emilen.
It wasn’t long before Emilen had reached the forward group and jumped onto Thorik’s back. “Surprise!” she shouted as they both fell to the ground and rolled to a nearby log. Flinching from the stabbing pain inflicted by various objects from within his backpack, Thorik hoped his hunting bow had not been damaged or his pack had ripped, spilling out his contents. While on top of him, she laughed at his expression, not knowing why he was making the faces he did.
Hopping off once she saw Ambrosius standing near Gluic, Emilen cautiously approached the older man. “I’m grateful to finally meet you properly. You left the Harvest Festival before I had the opportunity.” She searched his eyes to see if he recalled seeing her.
Ambrosius looked down to see Emilen standing next to him. “Do I know you? You look familiar.” She wasn’t the first Num he thought that of. His head had been scrambled and his memories were a mess.
“You don’t recall seeing me before?”
“Yes… at the festival.”
Delighted with the answer, she bowed her head ever so slightly. “I am Emilen. I’m at your service to save our people.”
“Save your people? I’ve tried to save your people. All people in fact, but I’m afraid I have failed. Now I’m struggling just to keep my own vitality.”
“But you are the one, the one written about in our Portent Scrolls.” She looked into his tired eyes and waited for his reply.
“Emilen, he doesn’t know what you’re talking about.” Thorik inspected his pack and took an inventory of his hunting knives to make sure nothing was lost. “We’re just here to return him to Kingsfoot.”
Emilen looked in disbelief at Thorik. “Why didn’t you tell him?”
Brimmelle responded as he and Wess caught up to them. “We don’t even know if it’s true about the Mountain King Statue, the council, and if he is who he claims to be. Contain your excitement until we know what’s going on here.”
“Why would you think his story is false?” she asked.
Brimmelle answered her loud enough for Ambrosius to overhear. “First of all, how did he end up so far downstream? If he had fallen in the river, he would have surely drowned or froze to death before reaching Farbank.”
Thorik attempted to dissolve the friction in the air. “We’ll be at Kingsfoot soon enough to determine what happened.” Reviewing the items in his pack to ensure nothing was damaged, he noticed Avanda arrive. “What are you doing here?” He was obviously upset that she was subjected to the dangers of the woods.
Avanda frowned. She had hoped Thorik would have been excited to see her.
“This is too dangerous for you,” Thorik told her before turning his attention to her uncle. “Wess, you need to take responsibility for her and take her back to Farbank.”
Wess didn’t take kindly to Thorik giving him orders. “Listen Dain, I gave her to Emilen to watch, so don’t be lecturing me. Tell Emilen to take her, or better yet, you can take her back and Emilen and I will lead this group upstream.”
Wess saw Emilen’s sour look and quickly changed his response. “Personally, if Emilen feels that it is safe out here for Avanda, then I will support her decision.” With a quick smile he added, “Emilen and I will work together to keep her out of trouble.”
Thorik couldn’t believe his ears and looked to Brimmelle for him to order Wess to take Avanda back.
Brimmelle shook his head at Wess. “Avanda is your responsibility. You better rise to the occasion.” It was quickly followed with, “Of course, if anyone asked me, I would tell them that this entire trip should not be taken.”
His comments were ignored as were his normal growling and stodgy comments.
Seeing a quick wink from her uncle Wess, Avanda knew she was in the clear to join the adventure.
Chapter 6
Curious Discoveries
Fate of Thorik Page 6
