by Sandra Elsa
"It will not happen again," Bella said. Properly chastised, she finished dressing.
Trace had done the same as she, the need to get into dry warm clothes far outweighing the need for decency.
Their wet clothes hung on tree branches over the fire, her boots had fared better than she expected. They were still dry having been wrapped in the water resistant cloak. Her bedroll had managed to get wet. She unrolled it and spread it out beside the fire. Her sword and bow were still in good condition but Buck’s floundering had soaked, Trace’s boots, sword, and bow.
First he tended the sword, drying it thoroughly. Bella put his boots by the fire to dry and then she rubbed some linseed oil into the bow.
By the time the weapons had been cleaned and cared for steam was starting to rise from the saddles beside the fire. When the extra moisture evaporated from them they were going to need a lot of oil. She didn't understand it, but water dried and weakened the fiber of leather and a soaking like this would considerably shorten it's useful life if it was not properly cared for. They didn't plan to keep this tack forever but they had no way to know how long they would need it.
When they were as dry as they could possibly be, Bella's teeth still chattered. She found herself looking often upstream for Conall to appear. What she wouldn't give for his warm body to lie next to hers right now.
It was still early in the day and until the saddles dried out they had done as much as they could. She sat down as close to the fire as she could get. Trace walked up beside her and sat down, he sat very close, and she found herself remembering Conall's words.
When Trace’s thigh and shoulder brushed hers she pulled away and he looked at her with a smile. "Don't worry sis, I know earlier was a matter of expediency. I also know I am still freezing and sitting together we would be much warmer. Don't think for a moment I didn't notice your friend get angry with Jasper back at Dylan's farm.” His lips pulled into a frown. “I don't know what is between you and your wolf, but I do know I've no desire to make him angry with me. Would you tell me what your relationship with him is?”
"I can‘t answer that question.” She shrugged. “Mostly because I don't understand our relationship myself. He says he loves me, and I think I love him, but if the curse is never lifted there is obviously no future in it.” With a rueful shake of her head, she said, “It figures, I save myself my entire life for the man who will love me as much as I love him, and he turns out to be a wolf."
Having received his reassurance she leaned into him and they covered their shoulders with the mostly dry cloak that had been in Bella’s pack. When her teeth stopped chattering Bella nodded where she sat with her head on Trace’s shoulder.
She awoke later with a start; most of their belongings were dry. They got up and repacked, then Bella grabbed her bow and went off to hunt. She returned a short time later with two squirrels in her game bag. Trace was in the middle of oiling her saddle so she went ahead and skinned the squirrels and cut them into a pot that she placed over the fire on a makeshift hanger.
She got out some of the dry vegetables, pulled some more spring onions and by the time the saddles were finished she had a delicious smelling stew well on its way to being finished.
They ate in silence. She left the pot beside the fire to keep it warm, then lay down on her bedroll and relaxed. She concentrated on being with Conall and found herself looking out through his eyes as they covered the distance with a ground-eating lope. He seemed startled. It was the first time she had reversed the connection thoroughly enough to share his body, without his prompting. "I am across dear one, I will join you shortly. Rest now."
She withdrew her consciousness and went to sleep. Later she awoke to find his warm bulk beside her. He had nosed his way under the blanket and was sleeping soundly for the first time since they had left Relante. She was sure that he didn't sleep this well because the danger was any less but because the journey had been long and exhausting. She kept herself on the edge of alertness in case trouble wandered too close to their camp.
The next morning they got an early start. Buck and Angel were none the worse for their swim, so they loaded all the packs and headed into the mountains.
At this time of year, the river made raiding into Ronan an unprofitable and possibly deadly occupation, most of the bandits would be found on the northern side of the Rortag range.
For now, their biggest concern was the local wildlife. Springtime was beautiful, but it was also a time when some of the larger animals emerged from winter’s hibernation to go in search of food to replace the stores lost over winter, these animals weren’t particularly choosy about what they ate and a horse or a human would fit into their plans just as well as a rabbit or deer.
Conall led the way up into the mountains pausing occasionally to wait for something to move on. Sometimes he would circle around and run something off that Bella and Trace could neither see, nor hear.
At one point they saw several deer run off into the shelter of the dense undergrowth. In other areas the trees were mature, huge crowns blocked the sunlight from the forest floor, preventing the growth of underbrush and smaller trees, making a pleasant journey. Bella forgot her fear of the Rortags, as one day blended into the next with blessed calm.
The trail Conall led them on was nothing more than a track made by animals and sometimes they couldn’t even see that. He led them inexorably northward.
The sharp incline of the terrain frequently caused difficulty for the horses. They had to go around a steep sided ravine, and this took them considerably out of their way, but it was either go around or risk the horses’ legs sliding down the shale covered slope. Bella grimaced, remembering the pain those rocks could cause.
As darkness descended, Conall found a flat area they could set up camp in, Bella slid from Angel’s back with stiff legs. No amount of riding on flat ground could have prepared her for the effort it took to ascend this mountainous terrain. Angel had plenty to do with just keeping his own footing, he could not spare the attention to make sure she stayed in the saddle. When he slid she didn’t interfere with him, allowing him to find his own balance but this journey was turning out to be much more tiring than she had anticipated.
Trace too seemed somewhat saddle sore when he dismounted. Bella had thought they would be getting used to this by now. Walking helped to loosen the stiff muscles but neither of them was anxious to go hunt. By mutual consent they collected firewood, Bella lit it, then they ate a cold meal, took care of the horses and went to sleep.
Conall did not sleep at all that night. Bella awoke several times to find him prowling, at the edge of camp.
He awoke them early the next day. “We must go.”
Stretching weary muscles she said, “As soon as we eat, and get the horses ready.”
“Do not eat. We must go. Something comes.” Conall’s thoughts were chaotic. The incongruous odors of lilacs and decay carried on the wind.
“What is it?” she asked.
“It is the Shaker. I've smelled this scent before. We must go,” he repeated with an altogether frightening single mindedness.
She quickly relayed this to Trace as she sprang from her bedroll, packed their belongings and saddled Angel. Trace followed her lead. If Conall was scared of whatever was out there, then wisdom was to move as fast as possible. Trace had never seen the huge wolf scared and the tension in him now was terrifying.
The horses sensed their nervousness and Buck proved difficult to saddle as he snorted and jumped watching the woods for the emergence of the bogeyman. They had just settled into their saddles when they began to hear crashing noises. It was off in the distance, but there was the unmistakable steady beat of something walking slowly and ponderously towards them.
Whatever it was, Bella had no desire to find out what could possibly spook her guardian. Cold and hungry, they began another long day of climbing the mountain. After an hour they could no longer hear the noise in the forest below them but the knowledge that i
t was out there drove them onward.
At noon they paused long enough to grab some trail rations from their packs. Since Bella did not have to concentrate on guiding Angel, she readied her bow and the first rabbit she saw she shot for Conall. For once he did not permit embarrassment to stand in his way, not caring who watched him eat, he tore into the rabbit and when he was through returned her arrow to her.
They permitted the horses to grab a couple of swallows of water every time they crossed a small creek. They crossed through a pass in the range and started traveling downward that afternoon. Conall scouted on ahead but had not been able to find a secure defendable cave, so they rode on well past nightfall. The steepness of the descent was as hard on the horses and riders as the ascent had been. The lack of sufficient light caused several serious slides.
Bella began to notice a faint glow to some of the trees they were passing. Hope reared its head. When the whispering started she became excited and noticed that the trees were spaced regularly. She had heard these sad whisperings of ancient wars and heroic deeds only once before, and she knew they were near a Travel Lodge. The glow of the trees became brighter to her second-sight as they neared the Lodge and when she exclaimed in joy, Conall and Trace looked at her as though she had lost her senses.
Chapter 41