by TJ Muir
Chapter Three
The four of them rode along in silence. They had slowed to a walk now, partly to rest the horses, and partly because they were losing the light. Mostly, though, they were all feeling tired. And to make their misery complete, a light rain began to fall. Before long, Jedda felt a chill seeping through his jacket, along with the damp. He looked at the others, Cham was the only one who seemed unaffected. His Faenyr clothes seemed to fare better against the cold and damp.
Jedda heard Kirrin sneeze and turned to see him wiping the rain from his face.
Cham looked back. “Finding a place to camp might be in order.” With that, he turned forward again and moved Trilly onward.
Jedda felt better knowing they would soon be stopping, but he soon found his thoughts wandering over the past few days, focusing on Trey and Diya in particular. Trey was like a brother to him and Jedda knew that spying on his friend, and everyone he knew, was a horrible thing to have done. He'd tried to justify it in his mind but found he couldn't do so. Worse, he feared that information he had gathered had caused the death of Trey's father and brother.
Jespen stopped abruptly, stirring Jedda from his thoughts.
“Shhh,” Cham said as he tilted his head, looking up the trail.
Jedda listened and caught slight sounds coming from up ahead. Someone was on the trail ahead of them.
Cham swung his leg over Trilly's back and slid down, handing the reins to Tattia. Then he disappeared into the brush that ran along the path. Jedda waited with the others, feeling a knot in his stomach. He swallowed and glanced into the woods around them, though he couldn't see much in the dim light and mist.
Before long they saw Cham walking toward them down the path. He took Trilly’s reins so that the four horses were closer together. “A Beddo camp up ahead,” he said. “On the left side. Probably another p'hatra. Two or three dozen from what I could tell.”
“Is that a problem?”
Cham looked back over his shoulder. He shrugged, lifting one shoulder, and shook his head as he thought. “The camp is fairly close to the road. Maybe, after it is full dark, we might be able to pass by. They might hear someone on the road, but no one in the camp would care.”
“So what?” Kirrin asked. “We wait here, standing around in the road until it gets dark?”
They looked toward Tattia, who knew the area better than any of them. She gazed off to her right, further inland, away from the river, and sighed. “There may be some trails that would go wide. Logging trails, paths made by deer and hunters.”
None of them looked happy, hearing that. It meant they would have to circle wide.
“But at least we would be able to make camp up in the hills,” Cham added.
The four of them exchanged looks. Jedda sighed, leaning on his hands against Jespen's withers. Kirrin nodded silently, agreeing. So did Tattia.
Cham turned Trilly around and put his foot in the stirrup. He stopped, as they all heard noise coming from the camp, voices raised, some commotion. Whatever it was, it was coming directly toward them. Cham hoisted himself up, but Trilly shied out from underneath him, knocking him to the ground as a goat careened through the horses. A group of Beddo was in close pursuit.
Cham swore. Jedda wasn't sure if it was because he had gotten knocked to the ground, or more likely because their quiet escape had just gotten complicated.
The Beddo split in two, most of them chasing off after the unrepentant goat, while a few of them stopped, helping Cham up.
“Are you okay?” a young man asked.
“We're so sorry.”
“Nusha didn't mean to scare you,” a young girl said, peeking out from behind the man.
“Shhhuusssh,” the man said, looking down and giving the girl a little shake. “Your little Ganusha will be the death of us all.” He looked up at them and winked. “Please do accept our most humble apologies.”
“Got her!” a voice cried out from further down the path.
The young girl looked relieved, and ran toward the voices, ducking straight under Trilly as though the horse wasn't even there.
By some miracle, Trilly never moved, and the girl disappeared into the gloom.
“Please,” the man said, turning his attention back to the group, “accept the hospitality of the Yandev. It is raining and it will be cold. We can offer a fire and a hot meal as well as a dry place for you and the horses to sleep.”
Cham nodded. “You honor us with your hospitality.”
Jedda stared. He was surprised by the change of opinion though the idea of hot food and a dry bed brightened his spirits considerably.
Before long, the horses were under a lean-to and their gear was stowed under a wagon. Their host, Tashan, assured them none would touch it and that no harm would come to them or their belongings.
At hearing those words, Jedda had looked to Kirrin and Tattia. They both appeared worried, although it showed less in Kirrin, who was holding a small stick, rolling it around with his fingers.
Cham offered Jedda reassuring smile. “You can trust their hospitality. It is a point of honor among them.”
Before long, Jedda was seated by a blazing fire with a cup in his hands, appreciating this hospitality that came with a meal, a canvas tarp over their heads, and mulled wine that tasted better than he expected. He didn't know much about the Beddo, only that they were distrusted and looked down on in Tatak Rhe. He'd imagined them to be dirty and unskilled. But what he saw was far from that. The camp was warm and inviting. Children played freely, scampering about from wagon to wagon.
Dinner was rabbit stew, simple fare but hot and savory, and served with a spiced sweetbread. Jedda ate two helpings, hoping it was not a breach of courtesy. But the Beddo laughed and joked. Tashan, in particular, seemed eager to make amends and assure their comfort.
Once dinner was over, instruments came out. Tashan was a brilliant musician, with a voice that melted hearts. Jedda listened to the flowing, golden tones, some bright and sweet, like wild honey, and others mellow and softened, like butter.
Tashan was just finishing up a song about a young man pining after a woman, watching her leave without him. It seemed to be a bit comic as well as sad. Some of the girls were laughing. Jedda was confused.
“Beddo girls, women, rarely leave their families,” Cham explained.
“And Beddo boys should know this,” one of the girls laughed.
That made Jedda think of Diya. Would she have left everything to come with him? She had everything in Tatak Rhe: wealth, family, friends. He thought of her being forced into a marriage with Hak'kar's son and felt the pain well up inside.
Tashan broke into a lively melody after that. “Time for bright laughing. This is for my little one,” he said, as he played a funny tune about a donkey that kept outsmarting his owner. By the end, everyone was laughing, even Jedda.
After that, there were several requests. Jedda didn't remember any songs, so he sat drinking his mulled wine, refilled several times by one of the Beddo.
Then Tashan shifted into a slower ballad, deeper tones, and chords. Jedda recognized parts of the tune, but not the words. It was something about a man named Giliad being forced to leave the realm of the gods. Jedda wondered if there was a place where the gods lived. He thought of Tatak Rhe and couldn’t imagine gods living there. Was there a place that was perfect, where the gods walked among men? What would it look like? Which gods? Would it be all of them? What might happen if Breshan and Triappa could ever catch the Nibbin? Then he remembered, the Nibbin wasn’t actually a god. He was the mortal thief who stole magic from them-- that was why he was always running so fast across the sky.
He wondered which gods had forced Giliad to leave paradise. Tashan was winding down the song and Jedda only caught the last few lines.
The city will rise above the sand,
The evil will be washed from the land.
Jedda wondered how a city would rise up above sand. Would it float in the clouds? Maybe they would use fliers t
o reach it. His imagination took off- seeing a city perched high above the world, with fliers traveling to and from the shiny crystal realm.
Tattia cleared her throat as Tashan wrapped up his latest song. “Do you know The Drunken Sailor? Or The Swan of the Sea?”
“I know both,” he said, smiling. “But may not know all the verses. Do you sing?”
Tattia smiled and blushed. “Not very well, and not for a while.”
“Come, it would honor us if you would teach us the verses of the song, the way it is sung in the west,” Tashan said.
Jedda looked up sharply, wondering how Tashan knew where she was from. Kirrin must have seen the question in his eyes, because he pointed to his own bright auburn hair, and then to the freckles on his face.
Jedda nodded, and smiled, feeling foolish. Of course, Kirrin and Tattia had the same coloring and whiter complexion that made it obvious they were not from the area.
Tashan cleared a place next to him and patted it, inviting Tattia to come sit beside him. She smiled at their host, and Tashan glanced at her from the corner of his eye and grinned shyly. Jedda realized Kirrin’s mother was attractive, with a warmth and allure that men were drawn to. Tashan certainly was drawn to her.
It turned out Tattia had a voice to match Tashan's. The two of them sang song after song together until she laughed that they would make themselves hoarse.
In the morning, they found the horses fed and watered, lazing in a patch of early morning sunlight. Tashan had food ready for them and chatted with Tattia over breakfast. Jedda noticed the looks exchanged between the two of them. She left her hand on Tashan’s arm when she spoke to him. He glanced toward Kirrin, wondering what he might think of his mother’s new friend. But Kirrin seemed absorbed with his breakfast and wasn’t paying attention to Tattia and Tashan.
“We will be here for several days,” Tashan said, speaking to the entire group, but keeping his attention on Tattia.
Cham shook his head. “No. Thank you, though. The night’s lodging was more than generous and graciously appreciated. But we must be traveling on.”
Tashan shuffled his feet, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He sucked in his breath, glancing around at the four of them. “The way you watch all around you, some trouble follows you.”
Jedda could tell Tashan was probing but trying to be discreet about it. All four of them glanced away, not wanting to make eye contact.
“No crime has been committed,” Cham said. “But dangerous people are upset and may be looking for us.”
Tashan nodded, his expression thoughtful. “This, the Beddo understand. Beddo come to a town and people say come, come, fix this or fix that. Then people say, Beddo stole this or that, filthy Beddo, and chase us away.” He spat on the ground. "We are traveling south before heading west. But none in this camp will speak of your guesting.” He glanced at Tattia, brow raised in a silent question. She shook her head, a sorrowful look in her eyes.
Then Tashan laughed. “Just like the song. You ride away, breaking poor Tashan’s heart.” But he was smiling as he spoke and winked at the group.
Jedda looked over at Kirrin, who was sucking his teeth in and pointedly not looking at his mother.
Chapter Four
They had found a small bridge and waited until after dark before crossing. There was a tiny hamlet on their side of the river and they preferred to wait until the sleepy little cluster of houses had settled for the night. Unlike Tatak Rhe, there were no watchers, no guards or gatekeepers. Just a sturdy stone bridge stretching across a narrow strip of water.
When they got close, Jedda stopped his horse. “What river is this?”
“It’s the Pember,” Kirrin said.
“Pfft.” Jedda snorted, sure they were playing some joke on him. “That is not the Pember. The Pember is huge. You can’t even see the other side. This river is tiny.”
“The Pember is larger further downstream, where other rivers and streams feed into it. Such as the White River.”
“White River?” Jedda asked.
“You call it the West River.”
“Oh.” He looked back at the Pember flowing below, eyes narrowed in suspicion. “I can see the other side.”
Kirrin nodded. “All the same, it is the same river. The Pember.”
They crossed without incident.
“It looks exactly the same over here,” Jedda said. Now he was disappointed. They had continually spoken of the river as something momentous.
“What were you expecting?” Tattia asked.
Jedda shrugged. “I don't know. Something...”
“Such as...?”
“Just... I don't know... different,” he mumbled.
“It's okay,” Cham said, stepping in, saving Jedda from his moment. “Let's get going.” And with that, he nodded to Jedda. “Just a light squeeze with your legs. Knees mostly.”
Jedda had been getting riding lessons as they went, in the quiet moments. He had begun to get a feel for what Jespen was doing underneath him, and his agony had subsided to a low level of misery. Cham's potions and lotions had been helping as well. Perhaps they would be able to slow their pace now that they were across the river. How he longed for a city where he could have a hot bath and a warm bed, though he knew it was more likely that their shelters would be hunting camps, and lodges, waking chilled and sore.
The road on this side of the river was not used as much as the Chanmyr side, and it tended to wander closer and further away from the water randomly. As they rode south along the lane, Jedda felt a sense of vacancy. “This is a road?” he asked. “It's not paved, or even smooth. And grass grows in the middle in places.”
“A country road,” Tattia said.
“Which is a good thing," Cham added. "This route is not often traveled. The Chanmyr distrust the closeness to the Faenyr land. But I mislike its closeness to the river since, as Jedda noted, the other side is easily visible.”
Jedda looked across the river and noticed he could almost make out the trees on the other side through the mist. Being out in the open, especially during daylight, made him uncomfortable enough. He didn't like not having walls around him. He noticed that Cham was looking equally uncomfortable as the mist began to rise. Jedda could tell that he was looking for something, watching the trail and the woods while they rode.
“Aha,” Cham said, brightening. The others rode up alongside him, stopping their horses. “There,” he said, nodding.
“What?” Kirrin asked.
“The trail.”
“Where?” He moved closer to the spot Cham had indicated.
“It is a trail.”
“That looks like little more than a deer track,” Kirrin said.
“You were expecting a paved road?” Cham asked.
“No. But...”
“It is a trail, and used by more than deer. If we are lucky, it should open out onto the path I was looking for.” Cham shouldered his horse into the lead and turned into the woods.
The day went by as they rode up and down hilly terrain. This brought the worst of Jedda's pain back. Riding on the flat was one thing. Riding on rough ground through hills required a whole new level of skill he didn't have. At mid-day, they came out onto a wider track on flat ground.
“Blood of the Red God,” Cham swore.
“What's wrong?” Kirrin asked.
In answer, Cham nodded ahead. Through the trees, they could see the glint of sunlight on water. They were back on the main track by the river.
“How did that happen? I swear we kept riding west,” Kirrin said.
“We did.”
“Maybe that is a different river?” Jedda asked.
Cham sighed, shaking his head. He blinked a few times, closing his eyes tight for a moment, rolling his shoulders and stretching his neck. He took a swig of brandy.
“So where are we?” Kirrin asked.
Cham shrugged again. “The trail could have spit us out almost anywhere. We might be a stone's throw from where we tur
ned off, or we might be a Nibbin's ride south.”
“Can we try riding back up the way we came?” Tattia asked.
“Perhaps. But it will likely spit us back out where we started. It'd be a risk. Better to keep riding south for the next trail.”
The thought of more riding left Jedda cringing. Cham must have sensed everyone's mood, or else he needed a break himself, for once they had reached an area that was away from the river he found a place they could stop, and rest for a while. They untacked the horses and let them graze on the grass along the sides of the lane.
Twice more, they turned off only to find themselves back on the river road. When they came out on the main road, the river was wider, so they knew they were further south. Jedda watched Cham-- each time he looked more drawn.
Cham took long swallows from the brandy but ate nothing. Each failed attempt seemed to drain him more.
“The forest veers back a bit, so we may stand a better chance now,” Cham said turning off again, heading west. By now the sun was getting low on the horizon and Jedda was exhausted. From the looks on their faces, he guessed no one was feeling any better about things.
His legs trembled as his horse climbed up a steep hill. He leaned forward, off the saddle the way Cham had taught him, and gripped Jespen’s mane for balance, but his legs still burned. He began to feel a little queasy as well. The path continued up and up with no letup. It twisted back and forth a few times, but that only gave him a few brief respites.
Just before dark, they crested the top and found themselves looking directly westward into the last rays of the sunset. Jedda sighed, a little dizzy, but feeling relieved. He glanced at Cham, who looked pale and was sweating lightly. Cham flinched suddenly, leaned over Trilly’s neck, and threw up.
“Are you okay?” Jedda asked.