Of Ancient Legends

[Prologue] [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] [Chapter 5]

CHAPTER 3

      Iritha woke wet and shivering. Without thinking she jerked the covers and wrapped them tightly around her. Her actions caused the big man lying beside her to become exposed to the damp cold air. Talbor woke with a chill. The big man's reaction to the cold wetness was a groaning complaint. "By Darcon's dwelling, did you have to take all the covers woman?" Looking around he asked, "What in the third void? I thought new life was here."
     His outburst woke Girmer and Casaron. Surprised by the unexpected change, they looked around at the deep sleep scenery. Everything was covered with a thin layer of ice and snow. A light but constant snow had fallen while they slept. Snow and frozen water filled most of the shallow crevices surrounding their camp, including the pit that held their fire. No one thought to use the lightweight, but waterproof, rawhide covers Tara provided.
      New life had just started to claim the land. They forgot that deep sleep often refused to loosen it grip. Late snow was common. With the glacier still visible from their campsite, they should have known how cold moon rise could be, and how unpredictable the weather was. Even Star Danc, huddling by the beasts seemed affected by deep sleep's sudden return.
      Draping a heavy cover over her shoulders, Iritha went to their supplies. She shook the pot containing the fruity porridge left from their moon rise meal. "This stuff sounds almost frozen. I guess, I'd better figure out a way ta heat it up." Glancing at the remaining venison she added, "The meat's probably frozen too."
      While Iritha dug a new pit, both Girmer and Talbor searched for any twigs and branches that may have remained some-what dry. Casaron remained under his covers and smiled slightly when the two gave up their fruitless search. Shaking his head, he crawled from his cover and stood. After drawing his cloak tightly around him, he pulled the ground cloth of his sleeping roll back. Under the hide was a layer of grass, twigs and thin branches.
     Girmer arched an eyebrow slightly.
      Casaron waved his hand slightly. "I had a feeling the weather would change and we would need dry grass and twigs to reheat our first rise meal."
      Iritha put her hands on her hips. "Yea, well the next time ya have them thar feelin's of yours, why don't ya let us know."
      Shrugging, the Maji explained. "Having the twigs and grass under your sleeping roll served two purposes. First, it keeps you off damp ground. Secondly, if it rains" He waved his hand toward the snow covered ground. "Or snows, you have a supply of dry fuel." He glanced at a couple of pine nut cones and rubbed his shoulder. "I would not suggest that you sleep on these."
      Iritha studied their wet bedding. She knew she would have to think of some way to slow Talbor down. Wet leather didn't last long. Their bedding, other leather and cloth items needed time to dry. Her eyes shifted to the uncooked venison. She nodded as an idea began to form.
      Mentally going over the plan, she removed the stones from the flooded fire pit and started digging a new one. While digging the new pit, she found the bulbs of several wild onions that had survived the deep sleep freeze. Near where she piled the newly harvested onions she noticed a few dry sprigs of rosemary and a small laurel sapling. A couple meters from the sapling the woody remains of a couple of red pepper bushes. Some of the hot fruit still clung to the branches. Iritha now knew how to give the remaining venison some flavor. If she was careful, the onions, dried peppers and other herbs would add a welcome flavor to the bland tasting meat.
      After cleaning the herbs she set them aside and finished placing the stones around the fire pit. Carefully placing dried grass and twigs in the rock circle she struck her flint stone. With the twigs burning she carefully placed a few small branches on the flame. Confident the fire would not go out, she put the pot of porridge on the coals. While flame flickered around the pot, she started chopping a couple onions and a few laurel leaves, she rubbed the mixture on the cooked meat. She reskewed the meat and positioned the stick so it was just above the flames. She decided to wrap both the reheated roast and meat in sections of hide from the butchered dear and packed it away. The meat would serve as part of their meals for the next few rises.
      Iritha couldn't resist using the remaining herbs. Grabbing an empty cooking pot from her pack she filled it partly with water. Cutting several thin slices of venison from the bone of a foreleg, she discovered the partly frozen meat was easier to slice. With most the meat removed from the bone, she dropped the meat, one pepper, remaining onions, and herbs in the cooking pot, then placed it next to the warming porridge.
      She used the last of Fen-Rod's tea herbs for their last meal. She would have to find something else to replace it. Disliking the taste of rosemary tea, she was grateful all the herb was in the soup. The use of medical tea for other than its healing properties was unthinkable. While rummaging through the supplies that Tara gave them, she found a small pouch. The pouch was similar to those used to hold tea herbs when traveling. The contents, she assumed was tea. But it was different than what she was accustom to. The tea appeared ground and did not look like leaves. Deep brown in color it looked almost black. It had a strong pungent aroma. Though unsure of the taste, it was part of the supplies the High One had provided. She doubted if any of the inhabitants of Quasta would tried to poison their supplies. Remembering the dried frit, she wondered how old the tea was, and if it was still good.
      Unsure of the taste or potency, Iritha used the ground tea sparingly. She rearranged the cooking pots so the tea water would fit. Stoking the fire, she hoped to shorten the cooking time. As an after thought she gave Star Danc the bone and a remaining hind flank She didn't know when the cat would be able to eat at his leisure again. She had no intention of discovering how a Death Cat acted if faced with starvation. While waiting for their meal to cook the small blond haired woman helped grain the beasts.
      While their meal cooked, Casaron with Star Danc walked a short distance from the camp. He stared past the edge of the forest and tried to ignore the fleeing images invading his thoughts. Troubled, Casaron couldn't shake the feeling he was about to encounter something that might question his moral choice. Sensing the Maji's distress, the cat rumbled softly. Lightly scratching the cat's head Casaron answered, "Soon."
      On hearing Iritha call everyone for their first rise meal, Casaron tried to push the uneasy feeling aside. Even with his heightened powers, he couldn't tell if the impending danger he felt was real or just uncertainty. Shaking his head, he tried to dismiss the feelings and eat. Even a Maji had the right to enjoy good food.
      Within a hour of being waken, the temperature rose above freezing and most of the snow had melted. Though still cold, Iritha's insistence on preparing their mid rise meal now, allowed their leather and cloth equipment to dry. The delay also gave everyone a chance to relax.
      Iritha ignored their suspicious looks as she poured the dark strong smelling liquid in their cups. She hoped it wouldn't be too bitter. Even the aroma seemed to lift the veil of fatigue that had plagued her since their battle with Ucenda. She hoped the hot black liquid would do the same for the others. Unsure of the tea, everyone waited for Iritha to take the first sip. Taking a small sip, Iritha's face told them the tea was bitter, perhaps overly brewed. However, her second swallow assured them the strangely flavored tea was good. She shrugged slightly. "Too bad we ain't got not honey. It might mask the bitterness."
      Casaron sipping the bitter tea added. "This tea seems to have a stimulant in it. Though this is good to have at first rise, it might be unwise to drink before sleep."
      Refreshed by the meal and strange tea, they packed their beasts and set out almost two hours later than Talbor wanted. Within hours the sparsely wooded area became a dense forest. Younger than the Mantaust Forest, streams of sunlight filtered through the dense green canopy.
      Near moon rise Talbor signaled for them to start looking for a clearing or small stream. Their beasts could graze while they ate. Star Danc let out a rumble, singling Girmer something was wrong. Her own senses told her not everything was as it should be. The smell of smoke filtered through the trees, and the forest too quite. Silence in a forest usually meant danger was near or had Talbor started to unsheath his sword when Girmer shook her head and pointed to Star Danc. She raised a finger to her lips telling him to be quite. Signaling everyone to remain silent she pointed toward the trees mentally ordering Star Danc to investigate. The cat stalked toward the unknown danger. Within minutes the cat's yowl told her what ever the danger was, it was gone. Since there were no mortal yells, everyone resumed talking.
      Entering in the clearing they saw Star Danc standing near the brunt remains of a temporary shelter. The smoldering rawhide appeared to have served as the center of a hunting camp. Drying racks, pots and tanned hides had been destroyed or rendered useless.
      Iritha kicked at the smoldering rawhide. "What happened? There ain't nuthin' here ta tell us where the hunters went. Do ya think somebody watered a User off?" She paused, looking around then added, "Or somthin' else?"
     Talbor frowned at her language, but said nothing.
      Casarom studied the camp. "There is no evidence of spellbinding. Whether it was sanctioned or not, what ever happened here was done by mortal hands."
      "Could an insane priest have done this?"
      Talbor's eyes shifted past the camp and shook his head. His thoughts were interrupted by Girmer. "Those supplies not destroyed by fire were left to rot. Who would authorize this type of destruction?"
      Both men answered, "A fanatic."
      Girmer's eyes narrowed. She bent to pick up an unburned leather collar. A bronze ring connected f ront of the collar a one meter length leash. The collar was designed so the wearer could not remove it. Only a key could unlatch the fastened buckle. Any attempt to forcibly remove the collar could result in strangulation. The collar fit so tightly around the neck, a knife or sword would not be used least the wearer's neck be sliced.
     "Those who camped here were taken prisoner. This strap is similar to the one Bushal put around my neck." Girmer's jaw tightened. Her face became clouded by hatred. Memories of her enslavement and escape surfaced. "No one regardless of. . ." She threw the collared strap on the smoldering rawhide. "Even the people who camped here had the right to freedom."
      The ebony skinned woman walked past Talbor and glared at him. He knew better than to try and talk to her. Her rage was beyond reason. He silently prayed this was the work of a rival hunting party and not slavers. If this was the work of slavers and they were within twenty kilometers she would probably try to hunt them down. He had seen her in battle. Slavers were no match for a seasoned warrior. They used intimidation to subdue their captives. Only Casaron's direct order might prevent her from exacting her own type of revenge. And only because she was duty bound to protect him.
      Talbor studied the ransacked camp again. He didn't think this was the work of a rival hunting party or slavers. Without letting Girmer see, he got Casaron's attention. He lowered his voice, almost whispering, "Ah, Casaron, I think maybe the Temple of Sensouls did this. But this camp is quite a distance from that abbey."
      Casaron nodded. "Perhaps those they were after were unattainable. At times, fanatic revenge will seek alternate victims."
      "Let's hope not. They don't care who you are, if you don't have their beliefs you're in trouble. My father's troops have had problems with them."
      Talbor wondered if they were after the old witch again. She wasn't as feeble or helpless as her age might suggest. If he remembered correctly she was an constant irritant to the abbey. On several occasions she had flaunted her beliefs, and escaped the abbey's High Inquisitor's so called cleansing. In doing so she had lost an eye and the use of an arm. If the abbey was this determined, he knew the old woman would be helpless against them. However, since traveling with the Maji, Talbor learned nothing was impossible.
      "I know someone who might know what happened. That is if she still lives near the edge of the forest."
      Glancing at Girmer and Iritha, he motioned for everyone to mount. Even if she had lost her life force, Talbor hoped her dwelling might give some clue to what happened. Kicking his beasts in the flanks he started to ride off. Casaron held his left hand out. He began whispering before turning his hand slightly. Engulfed in pale light, Talbor's beast was unable to move. Casaron moved his hand toward the other beasts. They too were surrounded in the light.
      "Talbor heed the words of your advisor. It is unwise to try and find a trail in darkness. It will do neither your bride, your future empire or yourself any good if you brake your neck. At first rise we will find the woman you speak of. For now, eat and rest."

[Prologue] [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] [Chapter 5]