She was just one girl, one innocent, ignorant girl.
Klass couldn’t drink wine, couldn’t read or write, and wasn’t even as tall as she was.
And yet—
“It’ll be all right. I’m here,” he said simply, holding out his hand to Aryes.
She looked at him, eyes widening a bit in surprise. He could tell Holo was watching them closely and felt suddenly self-conscious.
“…All right,” she said with a little nod, hesitantly taking Klass’s outstretched hand.
Her hand was soft and slender and her grip uncertain.
“Let’s go.”
I will protect this soft hand, Klass swore to himself, and Aryes nodded as though she could hear him.
Holo started running.
Holding on to Aryes’s hand, Klass took off after her as they made for the forest.
They didn’t so much run through the tall grass as swim through it.
Having passed the budding season, the forest fairly brimmed with life, and more than once it seemed to Klass that they were running through the belly of some great organism.
The forest canopy was so thick overhead that it choked out most of the sky.
Any exposed skin—cheeks, neck, hands—was immediately covered in scratches, and despite her hood, even Aryes found the corners of her eyes reddened with abrasions as though she’d cried her eyes out.
However, it was fortunate that the overgrown bushes and grass only served to hide their path, and there were still footpaths that had been cleared of rocks and roots. At the lead, Holo was picking the route as she ran so all Klass had to do was follow her, which was not too much of a hardship.
If Holo hadn’t been there, Klass would’ve been stranded, unable to tell path from forest, occasionally tripping in the springs and rills that ran underfoot. Even the thought of it was enough to make him shiver. All it would take was one false step on a moss-covered root to turn him into an injured man, and that would be that.
To their right, the forest rose in elevation, and to the left, it descended into the swamp.
Water flowed from right to left, and whenever they encountered it, Holo would warn him, and they’d carefully cross and continue on.
As they did so, Klass held on tightly to Aryes’s hand.
He felt that if he didn’t, she’d be swallowed up into the forest.
For Aryes, who found the gently sloping roads of the plains taxing enough, traveling the paths that wound up, down, left, and right through the forest made her breath run ragged, and her weight on Klass’s hand increased.
To Klass that felt like their pursuers actively pulling Aryes from him, so no matter how hard the running became, he kept holding her hand—and she gripped his in return, as though refusing to be left behind again.
Klass wondered how long they’d run like that.
The thick forest air stuck in his throat, and he was so tired that he didn’t even mind the stickiness of it, when Aryes finally stumbled on something and fell to her knees.
“Aryes!” Klass stopped and called out over his shoulder frantically.
As soon as he stopped, sweat bloomed all over him. Though he wanted to believe he could still run, the fatigue made his body from the waist down feel as though it was stuck in mud.
Aryes was too tired to even blink properly; she clamped her lips tightly closed and nodded, as if to say, “I’m all right.”
She looked very far from all right.
But the reality that they had to keep running compelled Klass’s hand to move, and he pulled the exhausted Aryes to her feet.
He felt terribly about it. “Is your foot sprained?” he asked her to assuage his guilt.
Aryes had managed to stand, and she swayed giddily, unsteady for a moment, her eyes not meeting Klass’s, but finally she moved her legs a bit and shook her head.
Klass relaxed his shoulders.
He still couldn’t tell Aryes to press on.
“What is the matter?” Holo had evidently noticed that Klass and Aryes were no longer following her, and she’d doubled back.
Seen from behind, Holo’s walking had seemed like flying, but she too was out of breath, and her face scratched here and there. The tail she was so proud of had brambles and grass caught in its tufts, and it was fluffed out, making her seem almost angry.
“Aryes—she stumbled.”
“Did she sprain anything?”
At the question, Aryes again shook her head.
“Then we must keep running, or we’re in trouble. We’ve got a bit yet to cover.”
Klass didn’t want to know the exact distance.
If they were more than halfway there, he was sure Holo would say so in order to cheer them up, so they must not have made it that far yet.
While he didn’t want to know how much distance lay ahead of them, he did want to know what separated them from their pursuers.
Klass looked hopefully up at Holo, who smiled and plucked free a leaf that had stuck to his forehead. “Why, if the worst should happen, you’ve got that staff in place of a spear, have you not?”
Her kind eyes were trying to soften the terrifying reality, Klass imagined. He simply nodded, gripped his staff so tightly it hurt.
“In any case, so long as we reach the town ahead of our pursuers, we’ll be all right for a while. Come, let us go,” said Holo and set off running again.
If they could just get to the town—
Klass held on to that one hope and started running with Aryes.
In the manor Klass had served in, there were people even below his station who slept in the corner of the barn among the pigs on lice-infested piles of straw. They were slaves whose language he barely understood, fallen into debt and sold or taken as prisoners of war. They were forced to do the hardest labor—repairing the grape trellises or clearing new farmland.
Even Klass hated the work he had to do, so much so that four days of the week he harbored fantasies of escape. The slaves frequently did escape, whereupon the bearded steward would ride out in lieu of his often-absent lord, donning armor and rounding up the fugitives.
They, too, had embraced that single hope and fled.
If they could make it within the walls of a town, there was evidently a rule that said their pursuers could not recapture them within that town.
The town air made people free.
Klass murmured the words uncertainly to himself, now feeling painful sympathy for those poor wretches.
When three escaped, it was common for two of them to be captured and beaten.
If they were captured, would they be whipped? Or—would they be hung?
The cries of the beaten slaves and the sound of the whip across their backs echoed in his mind. It was a sound like lightning falling upon them, skin and flesh and blood from their backs flying into the air, distinct in Klass’s vision.
The more Klass thought about it, the tighter he unconsciously gripped Aryes’s hand.
“God is always watching over us,” said Aryes gently, smiling despite her fatigue-stiffened cheeks—it seemed his worries had been conveyed though his grip.
He had to persevere.
Gritting his teeth, Klass swallowed his dire imaginings.
“Let’s go.”
Aryes nodded at Klass’s words and began running like a fledgling flapping its wings for the first time.
Once they passed through the forest and arrived at the town, Klass could not possibly imagine what would happen next.
Would Aryes sell the gem given to her by her father, or would Klass and Aryes together try to work and make a living?
Or would they again shoulder their bags full of food and water and press on to the sea?
Holo led the two of them through the deep of the forest’s gloom.
Her form was slight but somehow sturdy and reliable; when she looked back over her shoulder and grinned, Klass wasn’t afraid of whatever pack of wolves might come.
So long as they made it to the town, all would be well.
They’d met Holo, and she’d taught them much—Klass knew she could teach them still more.
All he had to think about now was holding Aryes’s hand and running.
As the weight of his pack bore down upon him, he thought of that and he ran.
The terrible cry that seemed to split the forest was utterly unexpected.
“—!”
Klass stopped short, and Aryes, propelled by her inertia, bumped into his shoulder and went a bit past him.
She didn’t apologize—because her eyes were round as she stared into the forest.
The high-pitched cry sounded like a chicken being strangled.
Was it some sort of bird? Klass wondered.
As soon as the thought occurred to him, the cry sounded again, and there was the sound of flapping wings.
“…A bird?” he murmured, somehow overcoming the urge to collapse to the ground in exhaustion.
Aryes made a terrified face and covered her ears.
Klass again heard the sound of wings and was quite sure it was a bird.
“Aryes, are you all right? It’s just a bird.”
“A…a bird…?”
Her dubious gaze belied the fact that she had never imagined a bird making such a cry.
Klass had seen birds large enough to steal an infant before, so he was able to confidently reply, “That’s right,” and take Aryes’s hand once again. “Never mind that. We have to catch up with Miss Holo!” he said, looking ahead and starting to take a step forward before stopping.
Ahead of them on the road that was beginning to veer to the right and uphill, Holo had stopped, her back to them.
It didn’t seem as though she was waiting for Klass and Aryes to catch up to her.
Her head was downcast, and only her ears moved, flicking to and fro more keenly than a rabbit’s.
“Miss Holo—”
Holo looked back so suddenly that Klass couldn’t be sure whether it was because he’d called her name or not.
No sooner did the thought occur to him than he realized that Holo’s gaze had shifted farther back behind them—down the path they had just run.
There was only one thing she could be looking at in that direction with such an uncalm gaze.
Klass swallowed and watched Holo, who came running back down the hill toward him and Aryes. Her gaze steady in the direction they’d come from, she spoke.
“Seems our tail isn’t coming.”
“Wha—?” Klass looked up suddenly at Holo’s face, but her concentration remained focused on the distance they had come.
“Is this some kind of scheme? Still…”
“M-maybe they’re lost…?”
“Possibly. I’ll go have a look,” said Holo, finally looking at Klass with a smile. “You two should have a rest. ’Twould be dangerous for you to run longer. There’s naught to fear; I’ll be back presently,” she said definitively, heading back down the path after giving Klass a light pat on the shoulder.
He, of course, could not stop her and simply watched her form disappear into the forest. He wondered if she would be all right on her own, and there was also the fear of being simply overlooked and abandoned by her.
Just grateful for the chance to rest, he looked back at Aryes, whereupon his eyes widened and he shouted.
“Wha—ah—Aryes!”
Aryes had fallen on her backside as though the straining strings that held her up had been cut—only by running to her side and holding her in his arms did he manage to stop her from falling over entirely. Her breathing came neither raggedly nor quietly, and her eyes closed in exhaustion.
He remembered a few days earlier, when despite her exhaustion he’d pushed her past her limit and she’d collapsed in the middle of the road. At the time he’d been terrified, and thinking on it now chilled him to his core.
As he held Aryes and peered at her face, he heard a still, small voice say, “Water.”
“Water? W-wait just a moment—”
Supporting Aryes with one arm, he dropped the bags from his back and frantically swung the water skin around from his shoulder and opened it. Most of the water within it was already gone, but he didn’t hesitate to bring the opening to Aryes’s mouth.
Aryes did not open her eyes, but once she realized that the vessel’s opening was near, she opened her mouth and Klass carefully helped her drink.
At first, perhaps because of how dry her mouth already was, she seemed to choke but soon drank the water easily.
Not knowing when the water would stop, Aryes closed her mouth, and water spilled out of the still-tilted skin. It wet her cheeks and clothes, but she was neither angry nor surprised and simply smiled.
“Do you feel bad?” asked Klass, which Aryes shook her head at.
Her color did not look too bad, so Klass felt like he could trust her.
Having drunk some water and calmed herself, Aryes’s breathing grew slow and deep.
Just as Klass was worried she might fall asleep, she squirmed a bit, and her left hand grasped Klass’s right.
Aryes’s eyes remained closed.
Her hand was light and weak as though made of cork, and he returned her grip, which her eyes finally opened at slightly, and she smiled.
That smile—that phosphorescently, weakly shining smile bringing with it relief and peace of mind.
At the sight of it, Klass’s heart sang so high it hurt.
The moment he tried to put the feeling that welled up in his chest into words, Aryes gave what seemed like a soft sigh.
When he realized it was actually a yawn, Klass returned to his senses, his face falling in discouragement.
“Oh, you’re sleepy?”
He had to smile, which Aryes seemed to find mildly embarrassing.
His lip twisted just slightly.
“You should sleep a bit,” he murmured, wiping away a trickle of water that clung to Aryes’s chin.
Even a small amount of sleep could make a surprising difference in the amount of exhaustion someone felt.
Drowsiness would probably claim Aryes whether he told her it was all right or not, but after a short pause, Aryes nodded politely.
Then she found a comfortable position, and by the time she reclined against Klass, she was already asleep.
Aryes’s soft body sank into his arms.
She was a bit taller than him, but that hadn’t stopped her from collapsing, which allowed him to preserve some piece of his manly pride.
He would’ve liked to let her sleep soundly for a while, but that was going to be difficult. If Holo would take a bit longer to return, he could not help thinking.
At the same time, part of Klass wanted Holo to come back as quickly as she could.
The middle of the forest was dim and so quiet.
He was uncertain about what he would do if Holo didn’t return at all. He was perfectly aware, though, that uncertainty wouldn’t accomplish anything.
So fear was pointless.
He shook his head to banish such feelings and took a deep breath by way of encouragement.
But even if he was able to shake his unease, he could not escape the many unpleasant realities that were closing in.
Having used it to give water to Aryes, Klass found that the water skin was now totally empty and even now lay discarded on the ground.
If he couldn’t fill it with water somewhere, it was doubtful that they’d even be able to make camp and sleep, the thirst would be so bad.
The moment he began to think about water, the thirst became more difficult to bear.
He looked down at Aryes curled up in his arms like a rabbit and thought.
As they’d run through the forest, they’d crossed so much fresh water that he’d started to wonder whether the entire place was flooded. If he just looked around a bit, it seemed likely he’d be able to find some.
Once he started considering this, he couldn’t stop himself.
It was hard to bring himself to let go of Aryes’s hands, soft as rising dough, but he slowly
released his fingers and carefully rearranged their bags to support her shoulders.
This was not without a certain feeling of guilt, but he could not win against the terrible thirst within him.
Once he confirmed that Aryes was still sleeping peacefully, Klass took the water skin and stood.
It felt as though his throat hurt more with every blink.
Over and over again, he tried to swallow nonexistent saliva, imagining it was cool water.
He cast his gaze about his surroundings, looking for plants that seemed likely to grow near water.
It would be dangerous to stray too far from Aryes’s side, so turning in a circle, bearlike, he searched for a likely spot and soon found one.
A short remove away he noticed a huge tree covered in moss, and behind it he found a trickle of water.
However, the tiny amount could hardly be drunk, to say nothing of filling the water skin.
After a moment’s hesitation, Klass started walking upstream of the trickle.
As he climbed, careful not to slip on the moss, he soon came to a small bluff.
He peered over the edge, and before he could even raise a cry of joy, he immediately started looking for a way down.
At the base of the drop, no higher than he was tall, was a large pool—perhaps where many of these trickles ran together and collected.
The water was very clear, and the base of the pool seemed to be sandy.
In any case, Klass forced himself to be patient as he pushed through the grass and circled the pool, taking care not to trip on the suddenly rocky terrain as he approached it—and then he noticed something.
The place from which he’d first spied the pool was directly above a cave, and the pool seemed to continue on into it.
The entrance was too cramped for Klass to fit through even crouched, so he didn’t know how far back the cave went.
But what he wanted was the water, the sight of which was enough to snap him back to his senses.
He knelt down and took a drink.
There was no way for Klass to express the joy he felt in that moment.
The water was cool and wet, and he gulped it ecstatically.
After drinking he didn’t know how much, breathing became difficult, and he finally brought his head up, belching loudly and sighing.
It was as cold as well water in the middle of winter.
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