“Do I look like myself, though?” Derk asked. This was the heart of the matter and he needed an honest opinion. They were back in Cartaskin territory and Derk would not take the chance of being recognized. The chance was slim, given the fact no one was looking for him, but Derk would rather be over cautious than over confident. He avoided Sindra’s gaze.
“In a way, but not really.” Devra offered. She gestured at him with a finger as she went over his appearance, smiling broadly at him. “Your beard’s more scruffy than before and well, you’re shinier up top.”
“I think it looks good,” Asa blurted. Derk figured he was trying to make up for his ignorant comment from before. “Maybe I’ll do the same,” Asa continued. “So we can match. That’ll draw the attention off of you. It is getting to be hot, it’s not a bad idea.”
“I’m not…I’m not looking for us to be triplets now, Asa. Thank you but two knob heads bobbing around might actually call more attention.” Derk took a breath, placing his hands on his head and remembering something he wanted from his pack. “Are you two going into the town proper or not?”
“Yeah, who’s got things to be taken in, who needs what?” Devra tucked the pouch into her belt, exchanging it for her gloves and pulling them on. “We might be long. Asa’s shoulder isn’t healing the way I’d like. We’re going to try and find some medicine for it, if not a healer. No offense, Sindra.”
“None taken,” Sindra replied, sipping from her waterskin. “My training in the healing arts is basic, as required by my order. Us priestesses rarely have to mend these types of wounds. I’m sorry I can’t help you more, Asa.”
“No need to apologize,” Asa mumbled. Asa wasn’t facing them as he spoke, but Derk knew his face would be red with embarrassment. Derk spared Asa from further humiliation by keeping his worry for the burly fighter to himself. Asa had fought valiantly and taken most of the blows, protecting them. “I know you did your best.” he said to Sindra, so gracious even as he scratched at his wound.
“But something to take into town, right?” Derk asked Devra. He did have something to send off, though, so he dug around in his bag for the letter he had written a few days ago. Plus, he was sure Asa would be glad to have the attention off of him. He pulled the letter out and handed it to Devra.
“Back to Portsmouth, eh?” Devra said, looking over the address. “I thought you said you didn’t have any family?” She smiled, her eyes sparkling in the summer sun,
“What, I can’t have friends besides you all?” Derk asked. “Is it hard to believe?”
“Yes,” said Jezlen, not looking up from whatever he was doing.
“That’s not what I meant,” Devra laughed, sticking her tongue out at the Forester. “Just, two letters in under a moon. You must be nervous, or have someone nervous about you.” Before Derk could think of what to say Devra turned her attention to Sindra and Jezlen. “And you two?”
Jezlen handed Devra a small pouch. “Some tobacco,” was all he said as Devra brought it to her nose, sniffing it.
“What is this?” she asked. “This isn’t money.”
“Heartberry seed,” Jezlen said. “Enough for tobacco.”
“Jezlen, you have to give her money for tobacco, not trade. She’s doing you a favor, not asking for work.” Sindra sighed and waited as Jezlen muttered something and handed Devra a few coins.
“Sindra?” Asa asked. “You need anything?”
“I’m fine,” Sindra said. “Good luck in town.”
Derk watched the siblings as they disappeared down hill. They were three days into the Cartaskin Barony and as he started to recognize different land features and bends in roads, Derk had grown more nervous, talking less and keeping to the center of the party. All the towns with walls were collecting gate taxes and some of the roads even had guards, demanding fees to use the roads, so the group started traveling through the woods to avoid being pecked to death by fees. Sindra’s standing with the Church did nothing to lessen the cost. Derk’s convenient rumors of the area further convinced the group traveling off the road was a better idea and when pressed to answer how he knew so much, he simply credited stories he had from other bar patrons.
Derk settled down on the ground, deciding to clean his nails and maybe take a nap. As soon as he sat down, Sindra sat beside him, laying her head in his lap, her long, dark hair spilling over his legs and onto the grass. He played with her hair absentmindedly, finally able to relax for the first time in what seemed like far too long. The cavern from which they had emerged took the primary toll on his nerves. The constant worrying about what could possibly happen in the lands he grew up in kept him awake at night and nervous during the day. Plus they would have to cross the Freewild again to get to Portsmouth, though above ground travel would be far less dangerous. He thought Sindra had fallen asleep and was about to close his eyes and do the same when she spoke.
“Sending letters to that woman again?” she asked. Derk blinked, trying to ascertain her mood by the tone of her voice, not sure why she was asking. He paused, confusion making the skin on his forehead pucker, blinking again as he laid a hand on her side.
“Again? You mean for the second time?” Why had she asked? He traced his finger around her pointed ear, tucking her hair around it so he could see her beautiful face. The sun turned her skin even darker and her cheek was smooth under his caress, as always. “This is only the second letter. Letting her know where we are and I’m safe. Can’t have her worrying, you know?”
“Of course not.” She sat up so she faced him and he was surprised to see her face was very serious, her grey eyes dark and heavy lidded. “You are good friends, aren’t you?”
“Old Gam’s my best friend, after you all. First person I met worth talking to in Portsmouth. Smart. Helped me get my bearings when I got into town. Y’know?” The expression on her face never changed but Derk felt sweat starting to pop on his forehead for some reason. “Put me up when I had no place to go. A drinking buddy.” He felt as if she was searching for something else and he wracked his brain for what it could possibly be but came up blank. “What? I’d write you a letter if we were apart, if that’s what’s bothering you.” Maybe that was it. Perhaps she wanted reassurance she was worth the parchment and ink. “I love you, Sindra, you know that.”
The elven woman sat up and then stood, shaking her robes free of dirt and grass as she walked away. Derk stood up, alarmed, tripping over his pack as he chased after her. “What, where’re you going? You can’t go into town by yourself! The entry tax!”
“I have money to get into town,” she said, her words curt and low, her eyes not fixing on him but looking past him as she addressed him. “I’ll be back before evening.”
“Sin, I mean…come on, don’t go. What did I say?” Her hood was already up despite the heat and she walked through the brush toward the road, a grey splash swaying among the sun burned greens and browns of the plants. He couldn’t help but watch her move as she walked away and once she was out of his sight, he spun around, looking to the other Forester who had been watching. “How can someone so beautiful be so….”
“Annoying?” Jezlen finished braiding his long black hair, tying the end with a leather cord and wrapped his arms around his knees. “Sindra and I are both of the Forest. It does not mean I understand her.”
“Yeah, women, eh?” Derk shrugged and walked back over to the camp, sprawling on the ground across from Jezlen, the sun peeking out from behind some clouds overhead. He ran his hand over his scalp as he got comfortable on the grass, not able to keep himself from looking in the direction Sindra had gone. “I mean, I treat her well, don’t I? I practically worship the woman, as if she was the Goddess herself and she never protests, does she? I tell her she’s beautiful and smart. What more does she want from me?” Derk pulled out a handful of grass and tossed it aside, wiping the blades stuck on his hands on his leg.
“What women want, which is whatever we cannot figure out at the moment,” offered Jezlen, his face still moro
se as if he did not understand the hilarity of his statement. Derk laughed out loud, though not as long as he would have liked; the elf’s serious face dampened his enjoyment of what he thought of as a jest. Jezlen often said things that seemed like they were jokes but he rarely laughed or smiled. Derk cleared his throat, unable to keep his eyes from wandering to the trail again, considering how to ask the Forester a peculiar question heavy on his mind.
“So, Jez, I’ve a query for you,” he said. Jezlen gave no indication he was listening nor that he wouldn’t answer so Derk dove in. The worst that could happen would be Jezlen tuning him out. “I don’t mean to be rude or such but…what’s going on? I mean, you’re related to Sindra and granted she’s got her own little oddities, but you? I don’t get you.” Derk shook his head and looked over Jezlen, his sharp features unfazed by what Derk said. Maybe he had tuned him out, Derk thought, waving his hand in front of the elf’s face. Jezlen set his eyes on Derk with a snap, and they shone as they fastened on him. For a moment, Derk wasn’t sure if Jezlen was about to laugh or strike him but he waited to see the outcome before placing a bet on either emotion.
“You do not…get me?” Jezlen asked. He seemed amused by the question. “And you compare me to Sindra. Sindra and I are not…alike.” The elf looked down to the ground, playing with the edge of his bedroll, his face thoughtful as he spoke “I was born and raised more…secluded than she. She was born in a village and moved to the city. In her temple she is often with other worshipers, able to enjoy the communion of the other followers of the Goddess. I…” The young man just shook his head.
“So, spend a lot of time alone, eh?”
“One could see it that way, I suppose,” Jezlen said, curiosity starting to streak across the lines on his forehead. “It is interesting you say you do not understand me, when in truth, I could say the same about you. You are a difficult man to follow, Derk.”
“I can’t say I follow your meaning,” said Derk, breaking eye contact with the elf whose gaze had become too intense for his liking. He set his own eyes on his shoe and started to undo the laces, busying himself with the banal task of tightening them. “I’m just the meddler, good for a jab every now and again. Asa’s brains, Devra’s brawn and Sindra’s, well…I keep her warm enough at night, I suppose. Sorry I can’t be of much help to you. If you’re ever cold at night, be sure to give me a tug, I’ll see what I can do.”
“You are trying to distract me with your jokes,” said Jezlen, chuckles changing the cadence of his words. “I think you may indeed ‘follow my meaning,’ as you say. You are a strange mix of the high born men drinking wine at their long tables and the common streetsman begging for blueies for a mug of beer. You punch like a bastard and wield your dagger like it’s the finest blade ever forged,” Jezlen smirked, his expression sly as he locked eyes with Derk again, the thief not pulling away this time but staring back. Jezlen slapped at a bug that landed on his neck, muttering something foreign under his breath before looking at Derk once more. “Where does this come from?”
“If I tell you, it takes all the fun out of guessing, don’t it?” Derk wasn’t going to back down and he wasn’t going to give Jezlen what he wanted, as simple a request as it was. He thought he would have been more unnerved by the confrontation but he realized he had been expecting it for a long time. Derk was only surprised that it was Jezlen, who knew him least, who brought it up. Something told him Jezlen asked not out of concern, as might be the case with the others but out of curiosity. His words seemed to intrigue the elf more and his ears actually perked up, his eyes wide with amusement.
“Your past life is a puzzle for me to figure out?” Jezlen asked, laughter finally lilting in his voice. The Forester chuckled, the serious expressions he had pulled the last two weeks seeming miles away from the person who sat before Derk. Jezlen reached into his pack, pulling out a pipe and filling it with tobacco from his tin before bringing it to his lips. “Well, most people are so obvious to read, a challenge is a nice change.”
“You’re the one making the challenge for yourself. I’m an open book!”
“And the story seems to change every time you turn a page,” Jezlen said, pulling a twig out of the campfire to light his pipe. He puffed on it a few times, his mouth twisting, taking a few drags before he wrapped his arms around his legs and stared at Derk, locking his gaze on him again.
“It is obvious you were born to a higher station in life, since raising oneself up in the Valley is difficult, especially in your lifespan. In addition, no one who has started off low and manages to raise himself goes back to the lesser ways of living, if he can help it. You do not strike me as a man who lets things happen to him, but rather as one who makes his way. So you must have thrust yourself upon this lifestyle zealously, probably burning a few bridges in his wake, as they say.” Jezlen puffed again on the pipe as he collected his thoughts like the smoke in his lungs. Derk saw his eyes watering as the herbs worked their way into his brain. Still, Jezlen cocked his head at Derk, something like a smirk showing on his mouth. “You never think what you are doing is wrong. Ever.”
“Oh, everyone thinks that,” Derk said, looking away again, the same previously nervous feeling prickling at his stomach again. He tugged at another handful of grass, trying to toss it into the fire, most of it blowing back on him. “Most people are stubbornly against taking blame, faulting someone or something else.”
“But you actually believe it,” said Jezlen, leaning back on the rock. “In your eyes, you are without blame. If it works for you, fine, and you are conveniently optimistic about the consequences which might befall others. You are definitely the hero of your own story.”
Derk sat there, still pulling up grass with his hands. Was he really all those things? He shook his head, sneering sightly as he looked the elf dead in the eye. “Well, if you’re so smart, what about you? You’re finished gutting me out here on the grass, how about you make me feel not so sheepish and show a little bone?”
Jezlen grinned, a peculiar smile which seemed more wolfish than anything else. “Ah, you will take the safe bet and not try to analyze me yourself, fearing you may be wrong. I am not a complicated person.” He held up his hand, counting off as he spoke, starting off with his thumb. “I am driven by the base things. Hunger, thirst, lust, things of that nature. I want peace of mind. Sometimes while looking for peace, I am led to danger.” Jezlen took one last drag off of the pipe before offering it Derk with both hands. “I have found both with you, I think.”
“My bedroll offer was a joke, Jezlen!” Derk laughed, taking the pipe from him and bringing the tip of it to his lips. He had never smoked before and it showed as he puffed on it, immediately exhaling, choking on the first real pull he took. The smart comment he had meant to say stuck in his throat as he coughed. He felt his eyes watering.
“You do not smoke?” asked Jezlen, laughing loudly. It was an awkward sound, almost rusty as if he wasn’t used to being amused “What kind of ruffian are you? At least tell me you play cards!”
“Now that, I do,” Derk said after a good while, tears streaming from his eyes, his throat feeling raw. “I’ll go get my cards.”
“Oh no, we will be using mine,” insisted Jezlen, reaching into his pack and pulling out a deck, untying the ribbon keeping the cards together. “You may not smoke like a dog but I imagine your card skills include tricks. I do not wish to be thrashed outright.”
“Do elven dogs smoke? And I can play for pleasure,” Derk said, chuckling slightly as the elf began to deal, watching the cards he lay in front of him. Jezlen didn’t trust him. Derk had to laugh, sighing as he picked up the cards and looked over them. “It’ll be nice to play for fun and not for supper. Though I warn you,” he added, eyes glinting merrily at someone he now considered a friend. “The thrashing will come whether we use your cards or not.”
CHAPTER 13
Past, Present, and Future
“Thanks, mam,” Derk laughed, taking the food from Asa. Asa blushed and Devra l
ooked up from her journal, glaring at Derk. “Tits, it was just a joke,” he shot, panic rising in his voice. “Lay off me.”
“I know it was,” Asa said, handing a plate to Jezlen. The Forester wrinkled his nose at the food. “Didn’t your pa ever cook for you?”
“My pa never cooked a day in his life,” Derk said. That was the truth. If his mother cooked, he didn’t remember, and his step-mother never had. “You just…you’re a mother hen, Asa.”
“He’s always been that way,” Devra shot. “Asa’s a caring person. It’s just the way he is. You should be glad someone can cook, and cook well at that.”
Jezlen screamed and Derk jumped in his seat, wondering what had caused the elf to startle so. Hot grease dripped down his chin. Derk smirked and cut into his food, shaking his head. “Too simple to know how to eat a sausage?”
“We do not have exploding meat where I am from,” Jezlen said, wiping his chin with the back of his hand. He had a red mark under his mouth.
“You should put something on that,” Asa said, putting the spoon back in the pot and turning to Jezlen. “It’s going to leave a scar if you don’t.”
“Maybe you should kiss it and make it all better,” Derk offered. Jezlen batted his eyelashes at the brawny Asa and soon the three men were laughing. Devra didn’t seem to be amused by Derk’s joke.
“Don’t fret, Devra. You know Derk was only kidding.” Asa said, retrieving the medicine bag.
“Maybe a kiss from you would be work better,” Jezlen said to Devra. He tilted his head to her with something like hope. The corners of Devra’s mouth curled upward slightly.
“I’ll break your neck, Jez, and no amount of kisses would heal it,” Asa said. Derk laughed loudly, and Asa and Devra joined in though the Forester seemed less amused. He rubbed the salve on his chin.
The Valley of Ten Crescents Series (Box Set: Books 1-3) Page 33
