“You can’t guarantee peace. You can’t promise that no one will die?” Japeth paused and looked at the fire. “I don’t like it Maerek,” Japeth said, shaking his head. “You put yourself and others in the open, but I will trust you and your wisdom.”
“Your trust is not misplaced.”
During the entire exchange, Thomas stared at Maerek, watching the mirrored flames in the dragon’s purple scales.
“Thomas, what is on your mind?” Maerek asked.
“We don’t have an extra set of clothes for you, and you can’t travel into the desert naked, nor as you are.”
“Here is what I propose,” Keane began, “We can use the rope we have and wrap the canvas around you like a robe with open sleeves. We will take you as a man without sufficient clothing, a freed slave, looking to reunite with family in Port Rasmú. I will tell them your story, as a man who was captured by slave traders. Your family was murdered, and you are looking to find a cousin who lives in Port Rasmú. We found you in the woods on the western side of the Blades, you were ransacked and ambushed and are left with nothing. We then can hope that their good nature will yield clothing and passage with their band to the city.”
“Concerning these nomads, is there enough rapport with that relationship to ask such a thing?”
Japeth spat in the fire, drawing everyone’s attention to him.
“Though rough and bitter, they are kind hearted to a soul in need. I believe that they trust us enough to help. We have supplied them with medicines and other goods not found in the desert, and they are grateful for what we bring to trade. This one thing should be easy for them to take. If we are lucky, they will have a set of clothes for you.”
“It is settled then,” Naeru said somberly, almost in a whisper. Maerek was sure he was the only one who heard it when no one responded to him right away.
“Let’s have this fire put out and be on our way. If nothing else crosses us, we should be at the edge of the desert by dusk.”
Maerek nodded and went to the river. He took in a large mouthful of water, walked back to the fire, and put it out instantly. Smoke and steam rose as the embers and small rocks that were in the sand hissed violently from the sudden cooling. For extra precaution, Maerek scooped clawfuls of sand over the fire, until all the embers were covered, and only white wisps of steam Seeped up from the ground. Satisfied that no additional fire would escape from the still hot embers, Maerek blew a steady stream of dark smoke from his nose until it engulfed him. The next moment he walked from the dark cloud, with a furrowed brow and clenched fist, focused on the eastern horizon.
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Stiff fibers from the canvas tarp scratched and rubbed against Maerek’s human-form skin. Combining the irritation that came with the constant movement of walking, and the slight film of sweat that beaded on his body made the morning seem longer than it actually was. The canvas would catch on the sweat, and then chafe under his arms, along his thighs, and mid-back. The only pleasantness of the day that the trees were more spread apart, the ground was relatively even, save for some exposed tree roots and boulders that the group needed to maneuver the suon around, and the air tasted fresh.
Even with the more open terrain, the pace seemed slower. More breaks were taken, and the traders always seemed to be out of breath. Aelex seemed to be having the worst of it. Maerek began to sniff the air, wondering if there was some airborne toxin that was affecting only the humans and not himself. Keane, seeing the concern on his Maerek’s face walked up to him rather belabored and put a hand on his shoulder.
“The air is thinner up here and it is a chore to hike as much as we are and breathe at the same time.” Maerek nodded in understanding and saw that the suon was also showing signs of fatigue. Thick white globs of saliva foamed at the corner of the creature’s mouth and dribbled down the sides of its jaw.
Maerek thought for a short while about Japeth’s comment that morning about reaching the edge of the wood by dusk. Considering the immensity of the Blades and the rain shadow they cast, what water the eastern side did receive must have come from glacial and snow melt. And if that was the only water on this side of the blades, it made sense to him that the trees would be as tight to the mountain as possible, and the dessert not far ahead of them.
“Exactly how far is it from here to the edge of the desert?” Maerek asked.
“About twenty miles as the crow flies,” Japeth replied, breathing heavily between each couple words. He breathed heavily for a moment and leaned against a tree. “But with the way the terrain flows, our path will meander quite a bit.”
“If I pull you, will you direct me where to go?”
“We will manage. We won’t be traveling all the way to the edge of the dessert. The trees will provide wonderful shade from the sun, and there is a particular stream that we will camp by so that we have fresh water. If the nomads agree to take us south with them, we will invite them to stay there with us that evening.”
“If you insist,” Maerek said. He had never been to this side of the Blades before and took the time to take in the scenery as the group hiked along the makeshift trail. The air smelled of dried pine cones and needles and carried a crispness and aridness that reminded him of crunchy leaves in the fall. The trees themselves were vastly different. The bark seemed thinner, and layers peeled off the trees like dead skin from a sunburn. Streaks of dark red color spiraled up through the trunks like infected blood veins. The needles were clustered tightly together on each end of a branch spreading out in four different directions like the face of a cat. Occasionally, a chipmunk would scurry across the trail, constantly searching for buried nuts or pinecone seeds. Robins, sparrows, swallows, and other small birds gave an occasional call or whistle, though Maerek never saw one fly overhead.
A small dust trail wafted up from the wheels of the cart as it moved down the path. The slow wind gently rocked the tree branches and beams of sunlight quickly dabbed the ground around them. In one of these brief blotches of sun, Maerek noticed a cluster of small, violet flowers that stood about a foot and half from the ground. Maerek walked toward the plant and noticed that the flower was actually an even tighter cluster of small flowers on one stem, no larger than a grain of rice. Thomas rushed over smiling and gently touched the leaves and stem of the plant. The plant stem was thin, stiff and dark brown like a small gnarled branch of a tree. The leaves on the stems were smaller than the pedals on the flower, and looked like short, flattened pine needles.
“Good find, Maerek,” Thomas said, “and look, it’s everywhere beyond the trail. Good we found it too, most of the leaves are picked off by deer and other animals this time of year.” Maerek looked up from the plant and saw that the ground ahead of him was covered in patches of the plant.
“What is it?” Maerek asked. Thomas had taken out his knife and pack and was cutting away at the blossoms of the plant.
“It’s called calluna and it is very valuable to the nomads and apothecaries in Tessír. Walk out there a little way and take as much as you can. Break the stem just below the first flower.”
Japeth, Keane, and Aelex were already walking off the trail and snapping of the stems of the plant, holding them in their shirt. Naeru stayed back and held the suon in check. The suon sniffed and snorted loudly and kept jerking toward the calluna. Maerek held the stems of the plant in the canvas cloak he wore.
“What is it used for?” he asked as he broke off another stem.
“Bites, stings, kidney stones, and prolonged fits of coughing. It also helps in putting you to sleep if drank in a tea or chewed and swallowed. It is a rather wonderful plant.”
After most of Thomas’ bag was filled with the calluna flowers, the group walked back to the cart. The suon was visibly upset as Naeru snapped the reigns for him to move forward. Seeing the suon’s disgruntlement, Thomas pulled a handful of calluna out of this bag and gave it to the lizard. The suon wrapped the stems with his tongue and pulled it back into his mouth to eat. Satisfied, the suon continued fo
rward.
As the group moved on, the trail became rougher and more uneven. Even grooves in the ground from wagon wheels disappeared and left only various tracks of ground that was filled with unvarying patches of grasses strewn with rocks, jutting roots, fallen trees and shrubbery. Yet Naeru seemed to guide the suon and the cart through less rough portions of the forest, never stopping to turn around due to an obstacle, or struggling to find the correct way east to the edge of the desert. Maerek had started to move one of the boulders out of what he thought to be the path and was scolded by Naeru.
“Don’t move a single thing, Maerek.”
“I take it, that you have traveled this path before,” Maerek stated.
“Many times. And those rocks and fallen trees are landmarks to me. They let me know I am on the right path.”
“I could move them out of your way, give you a straight line.”
“We are not the only ones who traverse these woods and it is best that we leave as little sign as possible that we walked amongst these trees.” Maerek expected to hear more about who else traveled the wood, but Naeru remained silent. Maerek didn’t prod for more information, but instead recalled the songs of his kin. He searched for any mention this eastern side of the Blades and heard many stories of courtship within the arid beauty. He listened to the songs in his mind, but no memory was sung concerning any creature that posed a danger to dragons, or of any creature that would have the intention to harm a dragon. Maerek thought about those songs, and assumed that though he, as a dragon, was safe in the forest, perhaps his human companions were not.
“They’re called the ‘ghosts of the hills’ by the nomadic tribes,” Keane started. “We have yet to see them, but the nomads have told us stories how they can swim through the earth like a fish through a stream. They can appear next to you in one moment and be gone the next instant. Apparently, they highly territorial and don’t take kindly to anything being in their territory for an extended period of time.”
“I would also assume that there hasn’t been a run in with these ghosts for as long as anyone can remember?”
“You would be correct dragon,” Naeru said stoically, staring ahead. “But the tribal memory lasts longer than the individual. If it were safe to stay in the forest, more tribes would, but as we are the only ones here,” he paused and stretched his hand out to the forest, gesturing to the emptiness and natural quiet that was around them, “I would say that we are still in some danger. But then again, perhaps not since you are with us, and they recognize that one such as you cannot dwell here for long periods of time, no caves.”
That gave something else for Maerek to search within his memory of songs. He listened again or thought about anything that had to deal with unnatural sightings on this side of the Blades, beyond the simple beauty from above. But there was nothing. Perhaps Naeru was correct that these ghosts hid themselves when the dragons traveled through.
“And do we know where this territory ends and where it begins?” Maerek asked.
“Across the river. That is what the nomads have told us, and we have camped there every year without harm or threat.” Japeth struggled to speak and walk at the same time, breathing heavily between each phrase and using the trees to push and pull himself along trail. “Just a few more hours, just a few more hours.”
The few more hours were up and down hills, around and down sharp switch backs, and pushing wheels over exposed, twisted roots that seemed to grab at the spokes. The last half hour was smooth and steady, and ended at a river. This part of the river was straight and appeared shallow, but the depth was hard to judge visually. The water gently rolled by, the surface a constant smooth pane, broken only by a jumping trout, and the touch of a dragon fly. A swallow skidded over the surface of the stream, scooping up a small beak-full of water and a gnat or two. Keane put his hand up to the sun, and softly counted the hand spans down to the horizon.
“We’ve got about two hours or so of daylight left,” he said, and then scanned the river bank. Just downstream was a pile of rocks roughly shaped to look like a pyramid. “There’s the first marker.”
“And the second one is just where I put it!” Aelex said with some pride.
“Aye, and the quicker we’re across, the quicker we can get a fire going. It’s going to be a cold night.” As Japeth spoke, he started walking into the river, and the rest of the traders followed. Ledría gave a short laugh and climbed into the wagon. No one protested.
The water was crisp and cold. The suon was led across the stream by Maerek. Even for him, the frigid river cut through his flesh and bit into bones. At the deepest point, he was up to his waist, and his breaths were short and shallow. The suon seemed to know from repetition, that it needed to cross the river, and respected and submitted to Maerek’s dominance. Once Maerek was across the river, he paused and wiped as much of the water off of him as possible and released the suon from its harness. The beast began to sniff around the trail, searching for food.
“Do you ever stop eating?” Maerek said in dismay. The suon turned toward him, snuffed, and trotted further into the greenery. After the group crossed the river, a small fire was set up to dry and warms themselves. Two hours later, the sky was dark, and the sudden, immobilizing desert chill fell.
Naeru let out a short sharp whistle and the suon came running back with chunks of grass lodged between its back molars. It glanced at Maerek once, huffed and walked casually back to the cart. The grass was similar to the campsite the night before. Long strands of faded green grass clicked in the wind as their dried seeds rattled. The suon took three large chomps of grass and crunched the dried stalks. A swarm of mosquitoes quickly latched onto the group of traders, Maerek included. Maerek, being without clothing, seemed to get the worst of it. He smacked his arms, legs, neck, head, and chest. But with each killed mosquito, ten more seemed to take its place.
Out of frustration, Maerek disrobed and blew thick, grey jets of smoke out of his nose, covering his entire body and then shifted into his true form. White smoke rose up from the fire and drifted down wind. The traders took special precaution to sit just outside of the smoke so that they wouldn’t be bothered by the mosquitoes. Naeru brought the suon and the cart closer to the fire.
The group kept their clothing on and added more fuel from the surrounding area to the fire. Maerek, noticing that the group all sat on one side, scooped up piles of earth with both claws and curved it around the fire opposite the traders. The heat reflected off the mound toward the group, providing and amplifying much needed warmth and quickly drying their clothes. Crickets and cicadas chirped and screeched. Bats emerged from their hiding places and began fluttering around the wood, gobbling up mosquitos and other small insects. Maerek closed his eyes and smiled as he listened to the small, leathery flap of the bat wings that seemed to beat in tandem with the sound of the fire and wind. Fireflies blinked at the edges of the glade, their yellow lights a dim reflection of the white stars above. Another gust of wind rolled over the grassy area, and the dried stalks of grass clicked as they rubbed against each other.
The coals of the fire flared white and red as the wind glided over them. Ledría wrapped the brown blanket around her tightly and hunched down, resting her head on her knees as her stomach let out an audible gurgle. No one commented on hunger. Maerek thought to leave the camp and return with something for the group to eat, but that would leave the traders defenseless, and he decided against it.
At the tree line, Maerek could hear a subtle plopping noise, like a wet snow dropping from a tree branch. He turned his head toward the tree-line, scanning the shadows for movement, but saw nothing. As he stared, he heard a quiet clucking and rustling of feathers. Slowly, Maerek scanned upwards, looking to the tree branches. Near the lowest tree branches, nestled next to the trunk of the pine, was a flock of eight wild turkeys nestling in for the night. Keane still had his bow but was without any arrows.
“Keane, would it be possible for you to make an arrow fit enough to land one of those
turkeys?” Maerek asked, pointing up at the flock. Keane looked up with interest and moved his head from side to side. He squinted and shielded his eyes from the glow of burning logs.
“Ah, yes, there they are… If I could, it would take too long, and if I miss, it might scare them all off. I wouldn’t trust it. Couldn’t you catch one?”
“It’d be like catching a fly with your hand. The area is too tight for me to maneuver and those meaty birds are extremely agile.”
“What about a stone and sling?” Ledría said, padding the blanket down over her thighs. “We could cut a strip of canvas to be tapered at both ends and see if it works.”
“Aye, we could,” Japeth commented. “And I might add that we make enough slings for everyone, even you Ledría, to have and practice with, at least for protection. Who knows who else is out there.”
The group made quick work of the canvas tarp, cutting seven strips in the same pattern. They used the sharp spear point to slice away at the canvas which caused small hemp fibers to unravel and fray. The excess material was cut away and kept in the wagon.
Maerek took one of the larger tree limbs out of the fire and shoved the smoldering end of it deep atop the earth-mound he made. The darkened bark was well illuminated and served as a proper practice target. Keane shared that he knew how to use a sling but didn’t have much practice with it. Keane explained how to properly load, hold, swing and release the sling, and everyone practiced the motions slowly. After the short lesson, the traders stood a way back from the fire pit and searched for small, smooth oval shaped stones for their slings. With rocks loaded in the pocket, each trader took turns swirling the sling above their heads and releasing the stone toward the target.
At first, some of the stones completely missed the mound, either veering wide left, or wide right. Some of the traders launched their stones high into the air, while others launched the stone straight into the ground. After a few more minutes of practice, Naeru struck the log on the mound. The traders cheered him on.
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