“Thank you,” she said while deliberating carefully. What the heck am I supposed to do with this? Why is she giving it to me? I hope she doesn’t expect me to cook for her. She didn’t dare ask about it or say anything else. She just wanted to leave and return to their passage down the mountain.
Queen Svati addressed Chalice once again and once again Jeremiah translated: “She has invited us to dine with them in the hall. There is music and dancing.” He motioned to the passage from which the drumbeat issued.
The memory of spiced fish in vegetables they had enjoyed with Quinta and Bunejab darted through her mind. She was tempted to accept the offer, but she still felt uncomfortable among the Chinuka, particularly among those who continued to scowl in their direction. She directed a face at Jeremiah to express her thoughts and he understood.
Jeremiah turned to the Queen. “Thank you very much, but we really need to pass over the mountain as soon as we can.” Bunejab translated his words.
The Queen nodded, bowing her head with respect to Jeremiah. “Hâjyàh zûnlàkû, Státtèkráj.” She then turned to speak to Grogan.
Shrinking, he bowed defeatedly. Bunejab and Mooky smiled at each other, bowed to the Queen and King, and then turned to leave. Ignoring Chalice and Jeremiah, they spoke to each other in rapid Chinukan as they strode the length of the red carpet.
Jeremiah looked at Chalice. “I guess that’s it! We get to go.” They paid their respects to the Queen and King, then followed Bunejab and his brother down the carpet and out the door. They did not look back, not even to see that the wásötah was watching them keenly as they went.
While Jeremiah untied the horses, Chalice stuffed the small box into her saddlebag, remarking that there was barely enough space left in it for anything else. After gathering provisions, that Jeremiah stuffed into his bag, and saying goodbye to Mooky, they remounted. Bunejab rode with Jeremiah this time as they headed back to the pass from which they had come.
When they arrived at the trail, Chalice suddenly realized why little Chinuk had been so intent on traveling with them. They would never have made it without him. She looked over at him, nestled in the pommel of Banner’s saddle.
“Bunejab,” she said and he turned toward her, letting out an incomprehensible squeak. “What is the Elîn’Mörá? Does it have something to do with my family?”
Bunejab paused for a moment before answering. When he was finished, Jeremiah translated, glancing down in suspicion at the little Chinuk. “He says that he made all that up because he had to tell his wásötah something that would persuade her to let us pass through.”
“Hmm,” she murmured to herself, staring at him through narrowed eyes. She knew this couldn’t be true. Why would the Chinuka have reacted in such a way? Why would the Queen have given her the box? She was beginning to notice that there was more to Bunejab than she had previously believed.
He is tricky, she thought. And he knows more than he is letting on. For the moment, however, she decided not to press him with any further questions. After all, they had the mountain to descend and their survival depended on staying alert. She would try again later.
“Jeremiah,” she said, glancing over at him.
“Yeah?”
“What was that the Queen called you and me?”
“You mean, Aukâwá and Státtèkráj?”
“Yeah.”
“The are the feminine and masculine form of the word steward, if you are addressing someone in a general fashion. They also mean caretaker or caregiver.”
“Steward? Why would she call us stewards?”
His cheeks turned slightly red. “Well, to the Chinuka, we are all stewards … caretakers of each other, of other creatures, and of the land around us, but I don’t think that is what she meant just then.”
“Then what did she mean?”
Jeremiah cleared his throat before answering. “The names can also mean Master and Mistress … or …” He paused, hesitating.
“Or?”
“Or they can mean Husband and Wife.”
Then, it suddenly dawned on her. “You mean, she thought we were married?”
“I think so.” He didn’t look at her and was too embarrassed to say any more on the subject, although he knew in his heart that they would be someday. So, they traveled on in silence, all of them happy to be on their way once again.
The crater ridge was steep, but their journey proceeded virtually uninterrupted. Once they breached it, Chalice’s worries of having to turn back disappeared and they spent the next seven days descending the mountain.
White Beauty
He stirred in the darkness of the trees, instinctually tracking the movement with a practiced eye that pierced the twilight. The morning mist slithered in between the Sequoias and settled upon his wet nose, informing him that they were near. The scent was strong this close. They had been stalking it for the past two sunrises since they had left the great frozen lake.
He knew the pack surrounded him nearby. Although they were concealed in the white of the forest, he could feel their presence. The shriek of the Niquilas overhead heralded the coming sun, informing those dwelling beneath that daybreak was approaching. Apart from Nipha, the snow eagles were the only creatures in the Trui’Quirré with keener senses than the Huskamau. For this reason, no Niquila prey was safe and for those small, unfortunate animals, the cry of the Niquila was a warning of impending doom.
The Huskamau, however, did not warn. They did not announce their hunt. They went in silently, swiftly, and deadly. Their prey never knew of their presence until it was too late. This rider, however, was not prey. She was something else. She was not a wolf, but she was familiar, just as his father had been familiar. She was just like him. He would never forget. It was his purpose for being there. He was charged with one last duty before he could rest. Just one more task and then … peace …
Chalice found the trail on the west side of the mountain easier and the horses tired less because of it. The days were cold and the nights were colder, but they had just enough provisions to sustain them. In the afternoon on the fourth day, they halted by a stream to enjoy a late lunch and water the horses. It was the first stream that they had encountered on the west side in which the surface wasn’t completely frozen over. This was a convenience, as they did not have to break through the ice to refill their water skins.
Gnawing hungrily on a morsel of bread and cheese, she looked up from her saddlebag and saw her. She was on the other side of the snowy stream and had come for the water as well.
“Jeremiah!” she whispered excitedly and he turned. Then, he saw what held her attention. He didn’t move a muscle, but stood there gaping as Bunejab waddled up to stand in between them.
“I don’t believe it!” Jeremiah said under his breath. He turned to her and saw the question in her eyes. “You know which horse that is, right?”
She shook her head. “No. Should I?”
“Most people do. That’s White Beauty. She’s also known as Hooves Bane. Maybe you’ve heard the name.”
She frowned. “That sounds familiar. How do you know it’s her?”
“No other horse could survive this high up the mountain, well, not without Taluqua leaves. Also, there is no other wild horse in the Realm, at least, not that I know of.”
Chalice turned to watch her as she drank from the stream. She was the most beautiful horse she had ever seen. She was pure white with four dark hooves and dark eyes. Her forelock, mane and tail were as white as the snow and they draped down her forehead, neck and rear, blowing smoothly in the cool wind.
“Why is she called Hooves Bane?”
“Because no one can catch her. She’s too fast. Many people have tried and failed. Some have even run their horses to the point of lameness in the attempt. It’s amazing that she has come this close to us. She usually keeps a healthy distance from people.”
“She’s beautiful!” Chalice murmured slowly. The horse drew up its head and gazed directly into her eyes from a
cross the stream. Suddenly, Chalice’s mind cleared and then she knew.
“Nipha,” she said without thinking. It was the first word that came to her, as though it was a faint whisper from souls passing through generations of time.
“What’s that?” Jeremiah looked at her curiously.
“That’s her name.”
“What?” he asked skeptically, furrowing his brow. “Right! How do you know?”
“I just know.”
“You mean you just made that up.”
“No, that’s her true name.”
Jeremiah smiled and shook his head, rolling his eyes. “I suppose that means something in Angaulic then? Am I right?”
“Yes,” she replied quietly. Just then, the horse threw back her beautiful head and jumped to her right, tossing snow in the air. Then, she cantered off through the trees.
“So,” Jeremiah said in a patronizing tone. “What does Nipha mean?”
“It means … Snow … that’s …” She trailed off, mesmerized, watching the horse canter away, wondering what she was and how she had gotten there. Jeremiah decided not to tease her further and turned to refit his saddle, straightening his bag on Banner’s back.
Chalice felt hot breath near her ear and she turned to stare straight into Sunny’s muzzle. He was standing there as if to say: “Hey! What about me? Did you forget me?” She grabbed his reins and scratched his neck.
“I didn’t forget you, boy,” she whispered warmly to him.
After refilling their water skins, they remounted and were soon back on the trail. Three days later, in the afternoon, they reached the base of the west side of Mt. Vaassa where the light was already fading from the height of the mountain that blocked the afternoon sun. All the same, it was blessedly warm and Chalice felt relieved. At last they had made it.
At the first crossroad they came to, Bunejab motioned them to the right and they continued to the next village that lay along the road. Bunejab had said they were going to Woodrock. He had shown them the location on Chalice’s map that morning and she had been anticipating arriving there all day. She was looking forward to a hot bath and a soft bed in a nice inn somewhere. When they arrived at Woodrock, however, Chalice wasn’t sure if they had made a mistake.
Woodrock
“This is a village?” Chalice looked over at Jeremiah, who shrugged.
“It’s on the map. Doesn’t look like much, does it?”
Before arriving in the town square, they had passed several farms along the main road. Protected by the forests that surrounded them, they sat back behind the trees where travelers could only view them from far-off. A distant look was all she needed, though, to gauge what they would find in the village.
The town square held an air of melancholy, as everything appeared to be in a state of disrepair. The village consisted of a collection of concentric, wooden shacks that had few windows, many of which were either cracked or broken. Chalice assumed that these were shops. They sat side-by-side, almost leaning on one another for support. The wood was worn and splintered with flecks of white or brown in places where the paint had not yet completely peeled off. There were no signs posted above or below any of the shops to advertise their wares, so she deduced that the town folk must not have needed them as they all seemed to know where they were going.
Many of the milling crowd displayed tired, heavily lined faces and wore dirty, ragged clothes. All of them sported clogs that protected their feet from the dirt and small pebbles that littered the tangled web of streets. Most were on foot although some rode in dilapidated wagons, with squeaky wheels, that carried farmed goods and smelled of horse and dust. In the middle of the square sat a plain, stone fountain that provided a large pool of clear, drinkable mountain water.
As they strode into the square, the people glanced in their direction. Chalice knew they stood out like a sore thumb. Not only were they of finer dress, they were also carrying a Chinuk with them, which was unheard of even in villages close to the mountain. Until this moment, it had never occurred to her that Bunejab might draw attention. The closer they rode, the more she began to itch with that uncomfortable feeling she had had in the Chinukan throne room. She could feel the glares on her back as they passed the fountain.
“Is it just me or—”
“No, I feel it too,” Jeremiah interrupted. “Let’s get out of here.”
Bunejab tapped him on the arm and pointed down a path that extended through the trees to their left. They reined the horses in the direction of the path and rode on at a brisk pace, not looking back. After a few minutes, they heard a trickle of flowing water that grew into a wide stream running parallel to the road. A large building appeared on the right side of the road in the distance.
“This way, Chalice.”
Jeremiah turned Banner to the left into a thicket that blocked them from view of the building. As they approached, walking along a winding path through the trees, the huge building swam into focus and they could see it clearly from where they were.
The sign above the front door read: Woodrock Creek Inn. It was nothing like the shacks in the town square. It looked brand new. It was sturdy, freshly painted of dark green outlined in rusty brown, and stood in between the road and the creek. A sloping mountainside of silver firs adorned its background.
The matching stable, constructed in the same color and quality, peeked out from the copse of trees on the opposite side of the dirt road. Well-to-do visitors and inn workers were bustling about in between the two structures. It appeared that businessmen and other travelers who journeyed from Auramont to Culmanoq and back frequented this inn. For this reason, it was in much better condition than the rest of the village. The melancholy Chalice had felt back in the town, however, still lingered. It was a strange feeling that she couldn’t quite explain.
Jeremiah turned to Chalice. “How are we going to get him in there without anyone noticing?”
She sighed. “I don’t know. I’m so dumb, I never thought of it.” She paused to think. “What if we wrap him in one of the blankets to hide his face and pretend he’s a child?”
Jeremiah frowned. “Hmm … that might work. Let’s try it.”
They dismounted and Chalice removed the woolen blanket from her saddlebag. Jeremiah folded it and wrapped it around the Chinuk, clipping it in the front with one of Chalice’s hair clips that she had dug out of her bag. He pulled the hood forward just enough so that Bunejab’s face was hidden in shadow.
With his face blocked by the cloth, the little Chinuk tried to make his way over to Chalice. It was clear, however, that he couldn’t see where he was going as he headed straight for the tree to her right. Stepping accidentally on a loose end of the blanket, he tripped and fell forward into the bark of the tree. Bouncing off, he landed on the ground, flat on his face.
Chalice gasped and rushed over to help him. “You alright?”
Jeremiah let out a sigh of frustration. “Right, okay, this isn’t going to work.”
As she was holding the Chinuk in her arms to lift him to his feet, the solution came to her. “I’ve got it. You go in and get us a room. Be sure to ask for a stream side room. Tie the horses over there,” she said, pointing to the hitching post, “but take the bags with you. I’ll stay here with him until you give us a signal. Once we have it, I’ll wrap him in the blanket and carry him in my arms to the back of the inn. There’s no one back there. We can hoist him up to the window with the rope from your bag.”
“Genius!” he exclaimed. “Alright, so, what’s the signal?”
“Uh …” she brainstormed. “Once you have the room key, put the horses in the stable and I’ll watch until you re-enter the inn. After a minute or two, we’ll be there.”
“Uh, okay.” He nodded. “Here we go,” he said, walking over to the horses and grabbing the reins. He led the horses across the street and proceeded according to plan. As soon as the horses were in the stable, he disappeared again into the front door of the inn.
“You ready, Bunej
ab?”
The Chinuk nodded and he was wrapped, once more, tightly into the blanket. Hefting him up onto her shoulder, she inconspicuously walked out of the trees and over to the inn. No one even noticed what appeared to be a young mother carrying a sleeping child around to the back side. Once there, Chalice peered down the river rock foundation of the inn. Jeremiah’s brown head popped out of one of the windows on the second floor a few spans down. She rushed over and set the Chinuk on the ground.
“Keep the blanket on, okay?” she told him quietly and the portion of the blanket that hooded his face nodded.
“Toss me the rope!” she whispered up to the window and the end of a rope fell into her hand.
“Bunejab, I’m going to tie this around your chest and under your shoulders.”
As she said this, he raised his arms and she giggled. He looked like one of the ghosts from the autumn Festival of the Dead they celebrated in Canton each year. Once the rope was securely knotted, she gave Jeremiah the thumbs up.
Slowly, what appeared to be a little brown ghost rose up into the air in spurts until it disappeared into the window. Jeremiah’s head poked out of the window once more and he held up two fingers that he flashed at her twice while mouthing the words: “Room two-twelve.”
She gave him another thumbs-up and ran around to the front of the inn. Yes! We did it and no one saw, she told herself. At least that is what she had thought for in their haste, both of them had failed to see the dark, cloaked figure hidden in the shadow of a large tree across the stream, watching them as they worked.
The front door of the inn flew open and a tall, burly man in a smock with a leather tool belt around his thick waist stormed out. He almost trampled Chalice and barely noticed. She flung herself to the side and watched him as he turned and tore off toward the west end of the inn.
The Raie'Chaelia (Legend of the Raie'Chaelia, Book One 1) Page 13