Adelin, too, was getting restless and tired of being carried. She struggled against Morganne, whimpering to be put down. Morganne tried for small bouts to let her walk before she got frustrated with her slow, aimless, stumbling pace and scooped her up again. Whenever she cried, Elowyn became greatly agitated. As if Morganne’s untrained footfalls weren’t noisy enough, how could she be expected to listen for danger amidst that clamor? Surely every predator in the forest had been made aware of their presence.
By late afternoon, Elowyn could see that Morganne was already nearing the end of her strength. Her face was hot and flushed, her breathing labored and her steps heavy. She tripped a number of times on her skirts and on tree roots, nearly falling and dropping Adelin. Elowyn was tiring as well, unaccustomed to carrying so much with her. Even so, she knew she still had the strength to last until nightfall if necessary. She took Morganne’s satchel from her in an attempt to lighten her load and allow her to last longer, but the bulk of her endurance had been already been spent. Elowyn was now only waiting out Morganne’s resolve. She knew that Morganne would not ask to stop until she felt that she was utterly defeated.
When the afternoon sun began to weaken and make its evening descent, Morganne dropped down onto a fallen tree and gasped, “I cannot go on much further. Are we away enough?”
Elowyn nodded. Their pace had been fairly steady and she had yet to see any sign of Hounds. She had no idea how much further the road might be. This was as suitable a place as any to camp for the night. Elowyn left Morganne to rest while she surveyed the area and collected firewood. As far as she could see there was nothing remarkable to note. They were in gently rolling, untouched forestland, with the stream flowing close by to the east. Elowyn had decided that loosely following its course would give them a reliable guide, and a ready source of fresh water. Elowyn built a fire, which was a warm and soothing companion that they could huddle close against in the coolness of the evening.
“We can never go back, you know,” Morganne stated the fact as though she had just now fully understood what that meant.
“I know,” Elowyn nodded.
“No doubt by now mother has realized we are gone. I’ll bet she is furious.” Morganne laughed nervously, looking about the wood as darkness crept slowly upon them. Elowyn was certain that Morganne had never spent the night out in the open, as she herself had done countless times. She wondered if Morganne was having second thoughts about their escape.
“We cannot go back,” Elowyn stated emphatically. Nothing would compel Elowyn to return to Tyroc. For her, the only choice was to see this through to the end, whatever end that might be. Certainly one dark night in a so-far-benevolent wilderness was not going to send her running back to the enemy.
Morganne agreed with a silent nod. “There is no forgiveness in her soul. She would destroy us. If not all at once, she would do it one day at a time, until we became as bitter and tormented as she. I do not want to suffer that end. If this journey is folly, and its fruit is my death, at least I will die knowing my life was lost to hope and not despair. I cannot help but believe that we are meant for something, Elowyn, something greater than we know. Perhaps greater than we will ever know.”
Morganne held a sleepy Adelin close in her arms and focused her eyes on the dancing flames of light before her. Elowyn smiled to herself, knowing full well what kind of comfort Morganne sought there.
“We should sleep now,” Elowyn reminded her. Without thinking, she climbed up into the tree beside her and made herself comfortable on an outstretched limb.
“What are you doing?” Morganne asked in a confused tone.
“Going to sleep.”
“In the tree?”
“Yes.”
“But won’t you fall out?”
“No. This is how I always sleep. You and Adelin can share my blanket. I will not need it.”
She pulled her cloak tightly around her and closed her eyes, leaving a bewildered Morganne blinking in the firelight. This was the Elowyn that Morganne had always wondered about, but could never quite grasp—the Elowyn who disappeared for days at a time, with no cares, and no explanations. The mystery of her sister’s other life was slowly being revealed to Morganne in a way that never would have happened had they lived out their lives in Tyroc.
The night passed without incident. Elowyn roused Morganne from sleep as soon as the first dim gray of morning gave them enough light to walk by. Morganne found that she was stiff, sore, and cold. She welcomed the warmth movement brought to her limbs. The day progressed as uneventfully as the night had, and they alternated steady walks with short rests. When Morganne needed longer rests, Elowyn replenished their water supply at the stream and scavenged the surrounding area for anything that might be useful. In that way they were able to stretch their meager food supplies with edible plants, wild onions, roots, and fruit. More than once Elowyn wished that they had a pot for cooking in.
By nightfall they had still not found the road, so they made camp a little closer to the stream than they had the night before. Elowyn listened contentedly as it gurgled to her a sweet, watery lullaby. The sky was bright and clear and the stars winked at her through the gently swaying branches overhead. She knew that the nights were worrisome for Morganne, who pressed as close to their small fire as she dared and shifted positions restlessly under her blanket. But to Elowyn this was almost like old times. To her the night sky was full of joy and mystery and it served once again as a reminder of Aviad’s watchful, loving presence. Her lungs welcomed the cool dampness of the air. Her eyes delighted in tracing the subtle beams of moonlight that filtered down through gaps in the forest canopy above them. It was almost easy to forget the dangers they were running from, as well as those that most certainly lay ahead. But making herself anxious over such troubled thoughts served no good purpose. She slept well, with a peaceful heart and mind, full of growing dreams about what wonderful things might await them in Minhaven.
Respite Along the East Road
The dawn came late, and Elowyn woke to the sound of rain dripping on the leaves above her. It was a harmless, steady, late-summer rain, and not one of Braeden’s conjured storms. Morganne and Adelin were still asleep under a wet bundle of blankets, curled up next to the muddy heap of cold ash that had once been their fire. Elowyn woke her and they donned their rain cloaks before starting out once again. Elowyn supposed that the weather could not have been expected to hold out all the way to Minhaven, though she wished they could have made it to the road before it changed. The girls plodded onward, heads down against the rain for what seemed like an endless age. Their shoes were drenched and caked in mud. The bottoms of their dresses were soaking up water and mud too, slowing them down and adding to their discomfort.
Elowyn wanted to move faster and more discreetly, but could not with Morganne and Adelin following behind. Her impatience was increasing and she wondered how much farther the road might be. Though she realized they were nowhere near Minhaven, and the condition of the road was likely to be even worse than the path they were on, it was a milestone she was anxious to reach. Deep down, she felt these woods were still too closely tied with Tyroc, their mother, and their old life. Every part of her being was ready to break free. For her, the road was the symbolic point where she could finally purge Tyroc, and the shadow of Braeden, from her soul.
The girls stumbled upon the road quite unexpectedly—a narrow, muddy scar along the forest floor, stretching from west to east. Though it was just barely wide enough for two small carts to pass each other, and was full of ruts and great pools of muddy water, the sight of it was a great relief. For Elowyn, who was trusting in Morganne’s direction, this was finally some confirmation of what she had described. No doubt reaching the road boosted Morganne’s confidence as well, for her step increased with renewed energy.
“I know I said that I wanted to avoid roads, but let’s continue on this one for a while. Tyroc and the main crossroads are well to the west of here, and if what I have heard is right
, we should soon come to a trading post. There we may be able to spend a night indoors, purchase some supplies and gather information. I must admit, I know very little about what lies beyond that point, either by road or wilderness. Maybe you will find a courier to take those letters you’re carrying. We should rid ourselves of them as soon as possible, rather than taking them all the way to Minhaven. I am wary of having them traced back to us.”
Elowyn was content with this plan, and so they trudged onward. It was much easier to keep a steady pace without having to scramble over fallen trees and skirt thick tangles of brush. Only twice did they share the way with others. Once with two men on horseback who paid them no heed, and once with a horse-drawn cart. Both parties were headed west. As they passed, Morganne kept her head down so that her hood covered her face. She saw no reason to take chances. Their anticipation grew as they walked. Morganne wondered what merchants there might be at the trading post, and hoped that she would be able to purchase a sturdy pair of boots. Elowyn had hopes of trading some of the rarer herbs she had collected along the way for others that might be more practical.
When the girls finally did arrive at the trading post, they nearly missed it. The only visible indication that they were in the right place was the mud splattered sign hanging outside the front door. Accustomed to the varied and brightly painted shops in Tyroc, they were shocked to discover that the trading post was nothing more than a large, dilapidated shack. Stunned by this blow to their expectations, the girls cautiously opened the door and peered inside, half expecting this to be a mistake. Though it hadn’t been a bright day, their eyes still needed a few moments to adjust to the dark interior. The windows were sealed shut, covered with oiled parchment that had been stained black with smoke from the hearth. Only a few quiet patrons lingered among the many tables and benches crowded into the main room. Not one of them bothered to glance in the direction of the doorway as the girls entered. To their left, a long counter ran the length of the wall. Behind the counter, from floor to ceiling, were stacked ale and wine kegs, shelves with crudely made drinking vessels, large storage jars, bags of grain, and other assorted items. A woman was standing behind the counter, wiping dry a newly washed ale mug.
“Ay! Whot’s this?” She said in a surprised tone, “I never seen the like walk through my door. Yer must be lost then?” The woman, who they now took to be the matron of the establishment, put down the mug and came out from behind the counter. She was a slow moving, heavy-set woman with large, blunt features and a booming voice. Her thick accent was completely unfamiliar. Her limp brown hair was carelessly held back by a frayed wimple that had probably once been white. Despite her sluggish air, her eyes, and her tongue, were sharp enough. There was no doubt that she kept close watch over everything that went on. Morganne spoke up, though her voice sounded dry.
“No, we are not lost … at least, I do not think we are. Is this the trading post we have heard lies along this road?”
“Ay, and you’ll not find another for many a day’s walk, whot ever way yer fare.” Her voice swelled with pride, her statement challenging anyone in earshot to prove her wrong. She looked the three girls over with careful scrutiny. “Yer be city folk from Tyroc—no denying it now,” she shook her finger at them as though she expected them to protest. “Yer all carry the same look. I could spot one of yer of a bow shot. Tell me straight now. What be two young peeps and a babe doin’ out on the road alone? I’m no nursemaid, and I won’t take no trouble for yer.”
Morganne’s tone stiffened. “Meaning no disrespect, we would prefer to keep our business to ourselves. We have no intention of causing trouble. We seek only to purchase a meal, some travel supplies, and possibly lodging for the night if your establishment offers it.”
The matron laughed coarsely, saying “Oh I can see that yer won’t be no trouble. As if I couldnae drag the three of yer out with one hand! It’s the trouble that may come after looking for yer that I wonder about. What are yer runnin’ from, ay?” Morganne gave Elowyn a look of alarm, but remained silent.
“Ay, I thought as much. Well, if yer won’t tell me yer business, I’ve got no room available, see? If yer do tell me, and I like yer story, I just might.”
“Their business is with me, Griselda,” a deep voice resonated from the other side of the room. The voice belonged to a large man with thick auburn hair that fell across his forehead. Elowyn thought that he had a strong, but kindly face. He wore a dark red tunic, leather leggings, and a heavy belt with a sheathed sword hanging from it. He rose imposingly from his place by the hearth where he had been seated with an older woman. Her long braided hair had once been the same color as his, but was now streaked with silver.
“Is it now?” The matron gave him a skeptical look, “And whot might that be then?”
“Come now, Griselda,” he chided, “You know that I never divulge that sort of information. Makes for bad business. Since when is my word, or that of any of my kin, not enough?” His tone indicated that she dare not go so far as to suggest it wasn’t.
“Very well then,” the matron grudgingly gave in, “Yer can have a room—on the good word of Tervaise.”
“Wonderful,” the man said light-heartedly. “Now, if you will be so kind, I would like to have cheese and wine brought to my table—nothing too strong, if you please, and fresh milk for the little one if you have it. There’s a good woman. You will join us, won’t you?” Tervaise looked at Morganne. It was an invitation she was glad to accept.
“Don’t think too badly of Griselda,” he said softly and winked as they walked away. “It is only wise to watch one’s back when you’re running a place like this in the wilderness. She does, however, lack courtesy and discretion, and for that I fault her.”
Tervaise’s companion rolled her eyes and grumbled at his remark. “Sour old crone, is what she is. She’d do well to get out of this place every so often. I wouldn’t have even stopped here had not that flighty, peas-for-brains mare of mine startled and thrown me,” she winced and shifted painfully in her seat. “I’m getting too old for falls like that.” Turning to Morganne, the woman said, “My name is Reyda, by the by, and you’ve already met my son. You’ll forgive me if I don’t stand up.”
“Of course,” Morganne said softly, “I hope you aren’t badly hurt.”
“Nay, just a bit shaken and bruised. I’ll rest tonight and we’ll be on our way again in the morning. You three would be well advised to be on your way by then as well.” Reyda gave them a stern, motherly look. “This is no place for children. Griselda won’t be the only one who takes an interest in you and wonders why you’re out here alone. The roads are plagued by murderers, thieves, and worse. There are wild beasts about, too, that stray out of the Shadow Wood looking for easy prey. We are headed toward Tyroc. If you are going our way, you would be safer to journey with us.”
“We are not going that way,” Morganne said regretfully, “though I thank you for your offer … and for your assistance a few moments ago. But why did you help us? We are but strangers to you.”
“It would be a sad world if men came only to the aid of their friends and family,” Tervaise replied. “It is both my pleasure, and the solemn oath I swore before the Kinship, that I would offer help to any innocent in need. You three seemed to fit that description well enough. I would not have slept soundly this night, or any other for the rest of my days, had I stood silent while children were being cast out to fend for themselves.”
“We are in your debt. We do not have much with us as you can see, but we do have some means, and some modest skills between us. If there is anything you need, only ask. Perhaps my lady, we could ease the pains from your fall with herbal poultices, or perhaps you have clothes that need mending? There must be some way we can repay you.”
“You offer is touching, my dear, it truly is. But we have all that we need in this world, and more,” Reyda replied. “And my pains will go away well enough on their own. I only need a bit of rest.”
“We desire noth
ing in return,” Tervaise said, waving his hand dismissively. “My only request, and it is one that I ask you to take seriously, is that once Griselda has prepared your room, you remain in it until your departure. We will make sure that you are fed when the evening meal is served. Can you promise me that?”
Morganne nodded disappointedly, “Yes, but we were hoping that we could get some information, perhaps trade for some goods, and find a courier to take a parcel for us. That is mainly why we stopped here. Not that we aren’t grateful to have shelter for the night, but my sister is very wood-wise, and we have already spent several nights out in the open. If there is nothing to be gained by staying, we would be better off to continue on our way. We have a long journey ahead of us yet.”
“What is it you are seeking?” Tervaise inquired. “I am a merchant by trade, and well-traveled.”
“I am in need of better footwear, for one,” Morganne said, revealing the battered, mud-stained slippers on her feet. While they had been perfectly adequate to wear about the cottage, or to take quick walks into Tyroc, they were now coming apart upon hard use. “We could also use a warmer blanket for the little one, food, herbs, and whatever else my sister says we need. She would know better than I.”
“A small hatchet,” Elowyn said timidly. It was the first time she had spoken since they sat down. She was somewhat awed by Tervaise and Reyda, and was quite used to being ignored by adults in general. Morganne, on the other hand, had spoken with such people quite often in the shops of Tyroc. Elowyn was more than content to allow Morganne to speak for them both.
Journey to Aviad Page 20