Fortissima

by Sara Kingsley

  “It doesn’t matter,” I say. “The three of us will make the crossing just fine. Let’s get ready to go.”

  We spend the day gathering provisions of sausages, dried meat, fruit, and hard crackers. Mrs. Mulberry gives us a large bundle of fresh-baked bread and biscuits. Mr. Benford has told us it will take at least three weeks to cross, longer if we’re holed up somewhere due to a storm. Since there's no food to be found along the way, we’ll need to carry as much as we can.

  That night, Mrs. Mulberry works up an epic feast for our last meal in Sagegate. Jude, Meg, and their children join us, as do Mr. and Mrs. Benford. Mrs. Mulberry again insists that we all relax by the fire with large mugs of spiced apple cider while she and Meg set the table.

  Jude says not a word to me. He doesn’t even look in my direction. He is happy, however, to chat with Leif, and when it comes time to be seated for dinner, he and Leif take chairs at one end of the table, allowing Tui and me to sit at the other. I’m not sure if it’s intentional, but I’m glad for it.

  Aware that this will probably be our last substantial meal in many weeks, Mrs. Mulberry has completely outdone herself. We stuff ourselves with lamb and potato pie, roast, candied squash, even crisp green salad.

  I try to soak in the scene, knowing it’s unlikely I’ll enjoy a meal like this for a very long time. Happy faces around the table are lit by candlelight. Plates are passed and we eat and eat. Lively chatter fills the room. The children giggle. There are so many conversations going on that I can’t pick out just one.

  Until Jude’s words carry across the table, each one clear as a bell. “Say, Leif, where did your other cousin—Catriona, was it?—take off to?”

  I look down at my plate, mashing squash with my fork. Listening.

  Without missing a beat, Leif replies. “Catriona’s not feeling all that well and went to bed early. Stomach trouble of some sort. She sends her apologies. We’re hoping a good long rest will fix her up so we’re ready to leave bright and early.”

  I look up and across the table. Leif’s smiling brightly. Our eyes lock for an instant, and his smile brightens even more. I smile back. I have to admit I’m impressed by his ability to concoct such a story on the fly. But there’s a twinge of something else.

  Mrs. Mulberry breaks in. “I’ll wrap up a plate for you to take up to her. I do hope she’s mended by morning.”

  Leif turns his smile over to her. “I’m sure she’d appreciate it.”

  When the meal’s done the children clamor for dessert. Mrs. Mulberry sends them out to the barn instead, telling them to look for the mother cat and her brand new kittens. They eagerly oblige, leaving the rest of us to clean up. But this time, Meg insists that her mother-in-law rests before the fire, enticing her over with a glass of ruby red port. It works.

  Until this point, Meg hasn’t said more than three words to me, but this all changes once we’re alone in the kitchen cleaning the dishes. “Raven, I’m sorry for my husband’s behavior.” She pauses, hesitant to continue.

  I’m not sure how to respond. What does she know, exactly? I smile at her warmly. “I understand where he’s coming from. He wants to keep Sagegate safe … from outside trouble. His intentions are good.”

  Meg’s face grows serious. “No, they’re not. Most people wish you well, but he’s one of the growing few who don’t.” She looks down at the plate she’s been drying with a towel for the past five minutes.

  Before I can stop them, the words leave my mouth. “And you?”

  “I …” her eyes flick around to make certain nobody but me can hear. “I wish you nothing but success. It’s good you’ll be on your way, though. It’s probably best for your own safety to keep moving on. Please be careful. Not everyone wants you to succeed.” She turns her head toward the sitting room, where her husband is chatting happily with Mr. Mulberry and the other men. “Case in point,” she says.

  “It’s good we’re leaving in the morning, then.” I turn back to the basin where I’ve been scrubbing pots and pans.

  “I’ve got something for you,” Meg says. She’s holding out a pair of woolen gloves. “I made them. I hope they fit.” She pauses, uncomfortable. “It’s going to be very cold on your crossing.”

  I dry my hands on a nearby towel and take the soft gray gloves from her. They fit perfectly. I look up at her. She’s gone back to drying her plate. “Thank you, Meg. This is a really thoughtful gift. I’ll wear them the whole way across.”

  Meg’s eyes flick back up to me, briefly. “Godspeed, m’lady,” she says.

  We’re up before dawn the next morning. The goodbyes didn’t take too long last night, so we’re well rested, ready for a long day of travel.

  The cottages of Sagegate are dark as we walk out of town, toward the mountains looming ahead.

  We’ve only gone about a mile when my shoulders start to ache from carrying my pack, heavy with provisions, woolen clothing, and blankets. I think of Pearl. I miss her immensely. I hope she’s safe, wherever Catriona has taken her. Then I banish the thoughts from my mind. There’s nothing I can do about that situation. I must simply keep on.

  The sky to the east grows paler with the rising sun. Golden light illuminates the mountains ahead of us. The snow level is noticeably lower than it was yesterday. Leif and Tui are walking on either side of me, looking up at the same thing. None of us says anything, though. We just keep walking.

  By mid-morning, the trail starts its upward climb. The sun shines meekly through thin clouds, offering little warmth. I’m fine with that, as the effort of carrying the pack has me shedding the layers I put on early this morning.

  Around noon, we stop briefly to eat. I take out Mr. Benford’s map, and see that we’re over halfway to the small campsite he marked down. We’re making excellent time.

  Leif pulls a paper-wrapped bundle out of his pack and hands us each a large sandwich. “Mrs. Mulberry fixed these up,” he says. “Made from last night’s leftover roast.” He takes a big bite and rolls his eyes back into his head in exaggerated bliss. I dig in too. It’s delicious, as usual. I’m touched by her thoughtfulness. I remember then about Meg’s gloves, tucked away in a pocket of my jacket. Such small kindnesses have greatly helped us on our way.

  Bellies full, we heave our packs on and continue winding up the mountain. The trees are now thinning out. The path has grown rocky and our pace slows. We must watch our footing; if one of us is injured, we’ll have to turn back.

  It’s late afternoon when the sun disappears behind the mountain range. The temperature drops quickly. Shortly after, we arrive at the camp indicated on the map.

  While Tui makes a fire in the small ring we find there, I pile layers of clothes back on: a wool sweater, my leather jacket, and finally my cloak. I fill the small kettle from one of the water bladders for tea. Afterwards, we roast sausages over the fire, then settle in to sleep. Tomorrow we’ll get another pre-dawn start on our walk.

  By mid-morning we’re walking over rocky ground. The trail ceases to be discernible, and I pull out Benford’s map. I look around for the landmark he’s noted, but I can’t figure out where we are.

  “Where on earth are we?” Tui asks, echoing my thoughts, looking at the map over my shoulder. “It makes no sense—Benford’s sketch of the rocks doesn’t match anything we’ve seen. But I’m sure we’re past here,” he says, pointing at a symbol. “If we miss the turn we’ll just be heading to a dead end.”

  “What’s going on?” Leif’s just returned from visiting some bushes. He glances down at the map. “Are we lost?” I look up at his face and see his green eyes twinkling. “We’re here, right?” He points at a spot indicating a sharp switchback. “And look, there are the cliffs where we turn.”

  I look around and sure enough he’s right. Up ahead in the distance are the white cliffs indicated on the map.

  “I wasn’t lost,” I snap. I have no idea why his self-assurance seems irritating. I’m glad he’s so confident, finding his way like this, but I should be able to follow
a simple map.

  I look back at Leif. His face is turned to the sky, his honey blond hair hanging down his back from underneath his worn leather hat. He’s breathing in the crisp mountain air. I take in some deep breaths of my own, trying to quell my irritability. Leif looks back down at me. “Of course you weren’t.” He smiles wide. “You’re right on track.” His look kills me, as it does every time. My irritation melts away.

  We pass the white cliffs the next day and keep left, as the map indicates. It also shows a cave just beyond, large enough to camp and build a fire in. Sure enough, it comes into view at sunset. But as we grow closer, we see that the inside is illuminated by the flickering light of a fire. Someone has beaten us here.

  Tui throws his arm across my chest. “Hold on! We don’t want to be seen, not yet, anyway.”

  “Should we investigate? Or keep going?” Leif asks.

  “We may as well see who it is. I’ll go. You stay here with Raven,” Tui says.

  “No way, mate, I’ll check it out. You can stay here.” Leif doesn’t wait for Tui’s reply, starting off in the direction of the cave.

  “Hold on!” I call out to him. “Why don’t both of you go? Then they’ll know you’re not alone. I can wait back here by myself. If it’s not safe, keep going and I’ll catch up. If it is, come back for me.”

  Tui and Leif exchange a look that clearly says neither of them wants to leave me alone here. But then they look back toward the cave. “Okay,” Tui says. “But I’ll come back for you either way.”

  I tuck myself into a crack along the rock wall, making sure I can still see Tui and Leif approaching the entrance. Even from a distance I can hear Tui’s bellowing voice, loud and clear.

  “Hullo there!” he calls into the cave’s opening. I can’t hear the response. Suddenly both of them go inside.

  Minutes pass. Each feels like an hour.

  Finally Leif comes dashing back out toward me. I notice he’s left his pack in the cave. “Raven! It’s only Billy. Come on in!” he says, waving me over. I exhale with relief and walk over to greet the man we expected to meet in Sagegate.

  Inside the cave, Benford Jr. is warming his hands over a freshly built fire. “Hello, Mister … uh … Benford Jr., sir,” I say.

  The man’s blue eyes smile up at me. I think his mouth is smiling too, but I can’t tell as it’s buried behind a bushy brown beard.

  “William Benford, Jr.,” he says, nodding. “But you can call me Billy.” While the beard makes him look much older than us, I realize Billy is only a few years our senior. I reach out my hand. We shake. “Very nice to meet you, ma’am.”

  Over dinner—more roasted sausages, which Billy eagerly devours—we fill the guide in with the details of our journey, or at least as many as he needs to know. As he listens to our plans, none of us mentions that we’d like him to turn around and cross again with us.

  “How’s my ma and pa?” He seems eager to change the subject, but I can tell he’s thinking about what we’ve told him. Considering his response.

  Leif puts another sausage onto his roasting stick. “They’re well, Billy. Mrs. Mulberry is helping your ma out by keeping them well fed. But she does so under the pretense that she’s made too much food. I suspect your ma can see through it, and knows she’s made extra to share with them. But she doesn’t let on.”

  Billy smiles at that. “Ah, that’s me mum. She’s too proud to accept a handout. But I know she struggles in the kitchen these days.” Suddenly his gaze grows serious. “You really want to get across this pass, eh?” He’s looking right at me.

  “We really do,” I say. “I know it’s late in the year, and you’ve just come that way, but we need to reach the Bastion before winter sets in. I don’t know if we can find the way ourselves.”

  “Why not go the low road? ’Tis much, much easier than this way.”

  Leif cuts in. “It’s my doing. I wanted to stop into Sagegate, so I led Raven and Tui this way. But it’s too late for us to backtrack. We just need to keep on.” I notice he makes no mention of Catriona.

  “We were wondering—hoping—that you’d be able to guide us across,” I say. My voice drips with pleading. I hate it.

  Billy considers this for at least a minute. Then he shakes his head. “I’m sorry, friends, but I’ve got to get back to Sagegate. I’m worried for my folks, now that winter’s close to setting in. I’ve been gone quite a time as well. I’m usually back long before now. Besides, I’m nearly out of supplies. I’d only be a drain on yours.”

  “We’ve brought plenty of provisions,” I say. “We were hoping you’d be able to guide us at least to the top of the peak. We can find our way down.”

  Billy shrugs. “I don’t think it can be reached, honestly. I had a hell of a time getting back down the mountain. I have to be straight with you—it would be unwise to continue on. Much safer to backtrack and cross via the valley. Or just hole up and wait for spring.”

  I look over at Leif. I’m tempted to tell Billy why we can’t go that way. Leif seems to read my mind. There’s a nearly imperceptible shake of his head. No. I glance over at Tui. He appears to be completely disinterested in our conversation, concentrating instead on roasting his sausage just right. But I know he’s paying attention to each and every word we say.

  “We appreciate your advice, Billy, truly. And thank you for considering our request. I understand your need to get back. Besides, we don’t want to put you in any danger.” I try to keep my voice upbeat, but my chest clenches as I say this.

  Billy asks Leif for further news from Sagegate, and their words fade from my ears. I watch the fire, trying not to let the disappointment crush me. We’re going to have to press on by ourselves.

  It’s still pitch dark when I awake to rustling sounds. I can hear Tui and Leif snoring, so I know it’s Billy getting ready to go.

  I lie awake, listening. When his footsteps fade away on the path down the mountain, I wake Leif and Tui.

  We wordlessly pack up, then start off in the opposite direction to Billy—toward the peak.

  The steepness of our route quickly increases, and we soon find ourselves clambering over sharp rocks and boulders. I’ve no need to pull out Benford’s map: there’s only one way to go now, and that’s up.

  The following day, we reach the snow. It’s deep, up to our knees. We trudge through it. It’s slow going, but we keep our eyes on the peak up ahead.

  It takes us two days to reach it, and when we do, the summit is glorious. The sky is completely clear, nothing but sapphire blue all around us. I can see everything: Sagegate nestled far, far below, the break in the range to the north. The blue sea shimmers in the far distance—it’s the first time I’ve ever seen it. And just before it, the towers of the Bastion. They look tiny from here, like a child’s play castle. From this perspective it doesn’t look dangerous at all. But it is, and the view sends a shiver down my spine.

  “Well, look at that,” Tui says. “We’re nearly there.”

  “It seems that way.” But suddenly I don’t want to go any farther. I wonder if I could stay here, on top of this mountain. It’s certainly the safest place in the kingdom, for me. I realize I’m looking down at the place of my birth; the place where I should have died. It’s the place I still might die, if we don’t make it through.

  “Are you okay, m’lady?” Leif asks. I’m aware that he’s been looking at me for a while, not at the view below.

  “I’m fine,” I reply. “We should go. It’s quite a way to our next stopping point.”

  We take a final look at the view before we start down the mountain. I can’t help but feel proud that we’ve made it this far without Billy’s help. Zenith really isn’t as bad as I feared.

  We wake the next morning to a dark, steely gray sky. Snowflakes begin floating down as we start out after breakfast. By mid-morning, the wind has picked up and the snow is falling thickly. We trudge on through the growing drifts toward the next point on the map. But our speed is only a crawl. To make matters wo
rse, we’re surrounded by giant crevasses and have to take great care as we walk between them.

  By noon the wind is howling like it’s trying to blow us right off the mountainside. Snow blows sideways, pummeling my frozen face and making my eyes water. I pull my woolen scarf up over my head, hoping it will provide a bit of warmth. It does, but barely. My toes start to feel numb inside my boots. At least my hands are warm in Meg’s woolen gloves.

  By afternoon a full-on storm is upon us. I know there’s a cave up ahead somewhere. Protection. We just have to get there.

  I can barely see what’s in front of me. I stop and look behind me to check if Tui’s still there, but I can’t see him. There’s only an impenetrable wall of white.

  I scream out his name. Then again. And again. It seems like forever before his bulk finally comes into view. I’m sweating despite the chill. My teeth chatter violently.

  Leif appears right in front of me. He has to scream to be heard over the wind. “Take this! Whatever you do, don’t let go!” He hands me the end of a narrow rope. I grab onto it and pass the rest to Tui. I grip it tightly. There’s not a chance I’ll let go.

  We slowly make our way down the slope, but it starts to get dark long before we’re within reach of the cave. The three of us are still holding onto the rope, mere inches from each other.

  Finally, I stop. “I can’t go on—it’s too dark to see anything.” I have to scream to make myself heard over the shrieking wind. We’ve been winding our way along narrow pathways between bottomless crevasses. One slip, one wrong step … it was difficult enough in the daylight, but now the snow around us is as dark as the sky above. The wind is still howling, the snow swirling, stinging my face.

  Leif points wordlessly. I barely make out what he’s spotted: a large boulder. If we can reach it, it might provide a bit of shelter. I hope it’s enough.

  We make our way over to it, step by careful step, then crawl behind it and huddle together. It provides a tiny bit of relief from the wind and driving snow, but we’re still bitterly cold. Soon I’m shivering.