by Cheryl Dyson
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The snow lessened as they descended and it finally disappeared completely by early afternoon. They followed the course of a large stream and Brydon welcomed the return of warmer temperatures. They surprised a forest chicken in late morning and Toryn stunned it with a well-aimed stone and then killed it with a quick twist of its neck.
They camped early that evening. Brydon was ready to drop from exhaustion. His head had begun to pound in early afternoon, an aftereffect of the strain combined with lack of decent sleep. The weight of his pack did not help and he began to mentally filter through his supplies, wondering if he could leave anything behind to lighten the load. Even though he felt guilty about the loss of Toryn’s sword, he did not miss its weight.
He would have given all the gold in his possession for a horse.
Toryn plucked the bird clean of feathers while Brydon unloaded items from his pack. Down floated through the air and clung to Toryn’s hair and clothing. A few feathery bits adorned Brydon, also. They seemed attracted to his wool shirt.
"Dagger," Toryn said and held out his hand expectantly. Brydon looked at him sharply, having no intention of giving a bladed weapon to Toryn, vow or no vow. Instead, he fished into a concealed pocket of the pack and pulled out a sharp, but very short, knife. He tossed it to Toryn, who removed it from the leather sheath and looked at the single-edged blade. He snorted, but made no comment as he gutted the bird and sliced the meat into thin strips. Brydon watched, and then gathered some nearby wood for the fire.
Toryn got to his feet and roamed through the undergrowth a short distance away. Brydon’s eyes tracked him, but then he shrugged and decided they were far enough from Redol that Toryn could probably return to his homeland if he chose. Brydon would not fuss if he disappeared.
Toryn returned with a handful of plants, which he began to shred and sprinkle atop the meat. Brydon watched uneasily for a moment and then pushed his way through the concealing underbrush to the small stream they had followed most of the day. A rippling pool lay beneath an overhanging tree, inviting a bath. Brydon felt filthy from days of walking and sleeping on the ground. After he verified that he could still glimpse Toryn through the foliage, he stripped off his clothing and planted his sword upon the bank before he waded in, gasping at the cold of the glacier-fed stream.
Brydon quickly washed in the icy water and wished for the soap that he had forgotten to bring on his journey (possibly the only thing he had neglected to add to his stuffed pack). He scrubbed as well as he could and washed his hair, feeling refreshed, if somewhat numb from the cold. As he splashed water on his chest, he glanced up and realized that he could no longer see Toryn. It also occurred to him that he had left his bow in camp. The thought of his own arrows protruding from his body did nothing for his composure, so he exited the frigid water and yanked his clothes back on. Brydon kept his sword in hand and approached the camp stealthily. Toryn was gone!
Brydon snatched up his bow—which oddly enough was still where he had left it—and then paused as Toryn ambled back into the clearing and knelt by the fire. His hands were full of more leafy vegetation. Brydon expelled his breath in relief and dropped his bow. Toryn looked at him curiously.
"Fall in the creek?" he asked.
"No, I got in of my own accord."
Toryn snorted. "I knew Falarans were crazy."
"Don’t Redolians bathe?" Brydon asked.
"Occasionally, but we’re smart enough to heat the water first."
Brydon refrained from comment as Toryn handed him a stick with a piece of steaming meat on it. Brydon looked at it hesitantly, wondering what sort of poisonous herbs Toryn had used to season it. Toryn snatched it back as if mortally offended. He took a large bite and returned it.
Brydon watched as Toryn chewed for a few moments, to see if he would go into convulsions or foam at the mouth. When he did not and merely tore at his own meat in greedy satisfaction, Brydon reluctantly bit into his. He looked at Toryn in bewilderment. "What did you do to this?" he asked.
Toryn’s head rose suspiciously. "What do you mean?"
"It's delicious!"
"Oh. I was tired of your cooking."
"I can see why, if you are used to this," Brydon admitted truthfully. It was amazing to think there were savory plants growing all around them. Brydon normally relied only upon supplies packed for the journey, although he did know of a few edible plants best consumed only when starvation threatened.
While he ate, Brydon wondered if Toryn had picked up his bow earlier. It would have been a simple matter to follow Brydon to the stream and fill him with arrows while he bathed. Brydon chewed thoughtfully and wondered why Toryn had not tried to kill him. The vow Toryn had made was known only to the two of them, and Adona.
Toryn cooked more meat in Brydon’s pot and tossed in mushrooms to make a rich sauce. Brydon ate in appreciative silence, after which he examined Toryn’s wrists. He wished he had more knowledge of the healing arts. Many plants aided mending, but he didn’t know which ones.
"You should wash them in the water," Brydon suggested. Toryn agreed and Brydon bandaged them again after the wounds were scrubbed and clean.
When they readied themselves for sleep, neither of them mentioned their unspoken truce.
The next day, they awoke to heavy clouds. Rain began to spit down on them intermittently as they resumed their southward trek. In late afternoon, the sky opened and water deluged them. They ran for the cover of a small rock ledge and huddled beneath it. Their breath frosted in the air that had grown steadily colder as the day progressed.
"Are we in Akarska?" Toryn asked.
"Yes, but I’ve been trying to skirt the mountains as closely as possible. If we avoid the lowlands, we should reduce our chances of encountering any Akarskans."
"Good. I would rather avoid them all."
"Why? Did you steal a horse?" Brydon kidded. There was no reply. "You stole a horse?"
"Of course not." Toryn snorted. "Do you think I want to die?"
Brydon concealed his relief, though he looked closely at the Redolian for a moment. "Probably. You attacked me, did you not?" He laughed.
"Careful, Falaran," Toryn warned. "You have to sleep, sometime."
"I think I will tie you up tonight," Brydon said, but Toryn only snorted. Brydon was sure he had had enough of being tied up to last him a lifetime. The wind changed and blew cold rain into their faces.
Brydon stood. "We need better shelter." Brydon started off and Toryn trailed after him. They were drenched within minutes. Brydon left the trail and cut across the rocky terrain, pushing through brambles and crossing rocky patches.
"Why did we leave the easy path to fight through this?" Toryn asked after a springy branch whacked him upon the shoulder.
"To find that," Brydon replied and pointed. Partway up the rocky hillside, nearly covered by undergrowth, loomed a cave opening.
"How did you know it was there?" Toryn asked.
"I saw it from below," Brydon replied and headed toward it. He tugged off his sodden pack as he shouldered his way through the wet brush that covered the hillside.
"How could you see it from below?" Toryn demanded. "I didn’t see it from below. I can hardly see it now!"
Brydon ignored him and Toryn helped him tear at the foliage covering the entrance until they had broken enough to fight their way inside. The cleft in the rock was a welcome respite from the pounding rain and they paused beneath the overhang. Brydon fumbled in his pack until he produced one of his fire starting rags, which he wrapped around a length of wood. He struck flint and tinder and soon had a flame going, until a gust of wind billowed in and nearly extinguished his makeshift torch.
"Let’s follow it back some. Perhaps it will be large enough for us to build a fire," Brydon said and pushed his way into the darkness with torch held high. The passage they followed turned once to the right and once left, and then widened into a large cavern. Brydon halted abruptly, catching his breath.
"What is t
his place?" Toryn asked in a hushed voice.
Brydon had no answer. He felt an odd sensation, as though they had just stepped into an unreal place. He walked through the large, empty cavern to the huge column that had caught his immediate gaze. White marble gleamed as the torchlight touched its surface. The column was huge, fully twelve feet in diameter and adorned with a base of carved white marble. It looked completely out of place in the rough stone cavern, as if some madman had transported it from a grand palace. The top of the column disappeared into the ceiling.
"What do you suppose was its purpose?" Toryn asked in a hushed tone as Brydon walked forward to examine the thing.
"I don’t know. Perhaps there was a building here at one time? A temple of some sort?"
Toryn joined him as he bent to look at the carvings. Brydon blew away the thick covering of dust and was surprised to see small figures carved in exquisite detail. They were mostly forest scenes—tiny deer stepping out from behind pine trees, squirrels cavorting amongst stone flowers, a long-haired girl in the top of a tree opening her hands to a flock of birds. Each feather and leaf seemed to have been painstakingly created. Around the edge a single thread wove in and out of itself in a dizzying pattern that Brydon gave up following. A thick layer of dust covered everything and a bundle of fur and twigs was packed into one corner near the base; some forest creature had been using it as a nest.
"Have you ever seen anything like this?" Brydon asked.
Toryn shook his head, teeth chattering. "Never. Can we save the examination until after we are dry?"
Brydon nodded and tugged at the nest. The dry twigs and animal fur made excellent tinder. He pulled the dry branches from the top of his pack. Brydon had been picking up dead wood for the past hour, despite Toryn asking if it was some form of Falaran insanity. His cloak had kept the wood dry from the rain, and now he did not have to go out and fight the rain looking for firewood. He looked pointedly at Toryn, who actually smiled.
"Good idea," he admitted.
The fire started quickly. Toryn shivered and huddled closer to the crackling flames. Luckily, there must have been enough gaps in the ceiling for the smoke to escape. Brydon tossed Toryn some dry clothing before he stripped off his own wet garments and dried himself with a shirt. Toryn followed suit and they spread their damp clothing on the floor to dry.
Toryn looked around the cavern. "So, what do you think it was?" he asked as Brydon returned to the pillar.
"This design... it is familiar," Brydon said and wondered where he had seen its like. It hovered just out of reach of his memory. In Eaglecrest? He pictured the castle at Eaglecrest with its myriad hallways and chambers, but could recall no match for the strange design. "Where did the marble come from? All the marble in Eaglecrest came overland from Kaneelis, by wagon. It’s very heavy and this column is enormous. I don’t recall even legends speaking of a palace or temple in Akarska."
Toryn shrugged, apparently having already tossed it into his memory as an unsolvable mystery. He lay back to watch the fire while Brydon searched the cavern more thoroughly.