Plain of the Fourteen Pillars - Book 1

by T K Foster

Cetra was wrung-out.

  She woke up spent.

  The journey upstream had been uneventful so far; the trek was easy going, they had plenty of water, and Cetra was hardly a weight to be a burden on Barret.

  “Hello Barret. You are carrying me,” she said, reflecting on her situation.

  “Yes I am,” Barret responded proudly.

  Barret remained only a few steps behind Billy and Briar who were now walking side by side. To their right was the stream, its flowing water sparkled in the sunlight as it cascaded over pebbles and through reeds.

  “I am very thirsty, Barret,” Cetra said quietly.

  “I suppose you are.”

  Barret took the short detour to the bank of the stream and let Cetra down gently. She was a little wobbly to begin with but soon had her footing well enough to kneel on the ground and cup some water up to her mouth.

  “I will be alright to walk now. Thank you Barret,” she said.

  Just up ahead, Billy and Briar were walking along and trying to skip stones across to the other side of the stream.

  “This is harder than it looks,” Briar admitted. He’d managed to get none across as yet, what with the reeds and the rocks and a short, stubby arm to throw with, success was implausible.

  Billy figured the trick was probably to bounce the stone off the top of a rock somewhere in the middle and hope that it might continue to the other side.

  “Check this out,” he said confidently.

  Held between his thumb and forefinger, and resting atop his middle finger, was a flat, almost perfectly rounded stone; to Billy it felt evenly weighted and proportioned, or so he imagined if he’d really known anything about that sort of thing. It was the perfect skipping stone.

  “Hey, that looks like a good skipper,” Briar cheered, pointing at the stone in Billy’s hand.

  “I know, that’s exactly what I thought.”

  Billy put his left foot forward and spun his body round to reach his right arm back; he cradled the stone loosely but firm enough to maintain control. He took aim, closing one eye to do so, but realised that was a fruitless exercise and opened it again, then counted to three in his head. When he had counted to three three times he threw the stone.

  The perfect stone.

  It was aerodynamic. It was fluid. It sliced through the air like a topey on an arrow head and channelled all its energy toward striking the large rock in the middle of the stream.

  Billy and Briar stood gaping and silent.

  If the stone hit the top of the desired rock in the middle of the stream it would bounce forward continuing on its original trajectory and reach the opposite bank.

  On the other hand....

  The stone did hit its desired target, which was a mean feat in itself, but it struck at water level, and with a loud crack puncturing the air it then ricocheted back in the direction it had come from.

  Now, not only were their mouths agape, but also their eyes suddenly as the stone hurtled back toward them at full velocity.

  Thinking quickly enough, they jumped sideways and away from one another as the rock flew between them and landed with a thud against the trunk of a nearby tree and then fell to the ground below.

  Billy and Briar looked at each other and burst out laughing.

  “Cool,” Briar said.

  “Cool,” Billy agreed.

  It was at that point they all decided it would be a good time to tuck into some food. The sun was high in the sky and they had travelled far and wide.

  Rod was let down on a large stone by the bank of the stream, he welcomed the rock’s warmth and praised the big chunk of bread that was placed before him.

  “Thank you my young adventurer,” he said to Billy.

  Billy first passed the leather satchel to Cetra, who took out her portion and then passed it onto Briar. With a slight of hand Briar took out a little more than his share and then passed it over to Barret who scowled his acknowledgement and received the satchel with a challenging snatch. After Barret it found its way back to Billy who helped himself to a rapple, a chunk of dried meat, and a wedge of bread.

  Yum.

  When he had finished the meat and bread, Billy bit into the rapple and held it in his mouth while he took off his boots and his socks and rolled up his khaki cargo pants to knee height. The stream was inviting him to wet his toes.

  “No Billy, don’t do it,” Briar shouted from behind.

  Billy stopped abruptly and took a step back.

  “The stones will grab you and drag you under,” Briar continued with a grin.

  “They will not, pig-boy,” Barret said disdainfully.

  Briar bit into his rapple and turned again to Billy. He shrugged his shoulders and winked.

  “You’re the smelliest thing in existence, Briar,” Barret quipped, “you should get in there and give yourself a good tub.”

  “Ha ha,” Briar answered cleverly.

  “I will go in with you Billy,” Cetra said as she got to her feet and took off her shoes and socks.

  When her feet were bare, Briar gawked, “What’s up with your foot?” he said, having never noticed the hair line above her sock before now.

  Cetra glanced down and giggled, “It is not mine,” she said and then quickly joined Billy at the edge of the stream, leaving Briar bewildered.

  The water was cold, but soothing to a tread worn foot. Billy waded in until it was just below his knees. Cetra followed and kicked water up at him.

  “Hey,” he said and quickly turned around with his arms outstretched to the side, “So much for keeping my clothes dry.”

  Billy grinned before lifting his right foot and repeatedly kicking water back up at the girl, she squealed with delight and danced around, she reached down and scooped up water with her hands to splash it over Billy again and again, until the two had all but vanished inside a deluge of coloured liquid.

  “Check the rainbow they’ve made,” Briar yelled and pointed from the sidelines. He immediately stripped to his underpants and waded into the stream. It was a bit deeper than he had anticipated, and when he began to splash around he looked very much like an ugly baby paddling excitedly in a wading pool.

  “What about you, Rod?” Barret said.

  “Water and mice don’t mix, my boy,” Rod said and then began to lick himself clean instead.

  Barret too rolled his pants up and took off his shoes and socks before taking the plunge; he figured when his clothes got wet it would be the alternative to washing them.

  So they splashed and frolicked, pushed each other around, jumped on one another and yelled and laughed a lot; and all the while Rod sat atop his rock and bathed his little body.

  “Kids!” he said, then clucked his tongue and shook his head.

  The day rolled on and they soon pushed forward again.

  They were soaking wet, but they were happy.

  A wind blew down unexpectedly from the north; it dried their clothes quickly but pressed against their skin harshly.

  Barret removed his jacket and placed it over Cetra’s shoulders. “This wind is unforgiving,” he said.

  Indeed, it was the prelude to an impending storm. From yonder horizon a pattern of dark clouds approached them speedily; it shouted its rein with thunder and brandished spears of lightening.

  “Wow,” Briar gaped, “guess we’re going to get caught in that.”

  A faint light flickered on the horizon. Cetra imagined it was simply a reflection of the lightening, but on second glance it remained there, and became brighter still.

  As the growing darkness prematurely put an end to their day, a sombre mood took a hold of their hearts. They had travelled a great distance, and enjoyed the journey, but they were tired, and it was starting to rain on them.

  “That light,” Cetra pointed, “it is a town.”

  They all stopped for a brief moment and stared.

  “Yes,” Barret agreed with a big smile.

  “Just in time I guess,” Billy said thankfully, “Let’s go.”
<
br />   “Yay,” Cetra cheered and clapped her hands.

  CHAPTER THIRTY ONE