“How long until we reach these black swamps?”
“We will arrive upon it very soon,” Woodphere replied.
After a short while they came upon what Constance presumed to be the black swamps. There was very little light, and the water was a disgusting color of algae green. The swamp had a ghastly smell that turned her stomach, a combination of dead fish and sewage.
“You say we have to go through that!”
“I'm afraid so,” Woodphere replied.
“Woodphere, there has to be another way, for who in their right mind would go through this more than once!” Drinian exclaimed. “But wait look over yonder, Woodphere, it is another path!”
“It looks like only a deer path, Your Majesty.”
“I would rather walk on a deer path, than in that swamp any day.”
“I would not advise Your Majesty to continue.”
“Do not worry Woodphere, we can leave our horses here. If it is safe, we will simply come back for them, and how dangerous can a deer path be?”
“Sometimes very dangerous,” Woodphere muttered.
“Drinian, perhaps Woodphere is right, maybe we should stick to the map.”
“You may both stay here if you wish, I will return and tell you if the path is trustworthy.”
“And how are you going to do that, if you fall into a gorge or hurt yourself?” Constance replied.
Drinian did not answer, but got off his horse and started walking toward the path.
“You think I'm stubborn!” Constance muttered to herself.
Soon Drinian was no longer in sight.
“Woodphere, do you think we should follow him?” Constance asked.
“His Majesty can take care of himself, or at least he thinks he can.”
******************
After fifteen minutes had passed Drinian had not returned.
“Constance, I think I shall go and look for him. Stay here, and I'll try to return hastily.” Woodphere said, getting off his horse.
“I will come too; I want to see what kind of trouble Drinian got himself into.”
“If you must.”
When Woodphere and Constance found Drinian he was swinging from a tree in a caracal net, with his arms crossed.
“Well, look what's been caught, I think he would make a pretty tasty meal, don't you, Woodphere?” Constance said teasingly, as she stared up at Drinian.
“Please Woodphere, do not say a word. Just get me loose!” Drinian muttered.
Woodphere pulled out his sword and cut the rope holding Drinian who promptly dropped to the ground directly on his back.
“Thank you Woodphere, but you could have come a little sooner.”
“Exactly how long have you been up there, Drinian?”
“Only about ten minutes,” Drinian replied.
“Come on, let's get back to the horses, we've wasted enough time already,” Constance moaned.
“I was only trying to save time.”
“We could have been across the swamp by now!” Constance continued.
“I was trying to spare you from having to cross the swamp, since you are a lady.”
By this time Woodphere was leaning against a tree listening to the whole argument.
“And what does being a lady had to do with anything! I could beat you across that swamp any day!”
“Really, that would be fun to watch! I suppose it would turn out like getting off a horse!”
“You are so annoying!” Constance fired back.
“Who do you think I am, Prince Charming? Drinian replied, his brow creasing.
“You certainly are not!”
“Well, at least we agree on one thing.”
“All I wanted was to cross that swamp as fast as possible, but no, you had to go off on your bunny trail and make us wait!”
“I'm sorry if I did not meet your standards, Your Majesty! Go on to Castle Melody and proclaim yourself queen!”
“I'm never speaking to you again, you stubborn horse!”
“I was only trying to make up the time you cost us by wandering off into the woods. We should have been across that swamp hours ago!”
Constance ignored Drinian and continued walking back to the horses.
Drinian stayed quiet as he stood staring at the ground.
“Your Majesty, I do not think it wise to continue on this path, for there may be more traps.”
Drinian started walking back to the horses with Woodphere by his side. “Woodphere, I really was trying to save time. You do believe me, don’t you?”
“I do, Your Majesty.”
“Why does she have to so... so difficult?”
“You were being a little hard to deal with also, Your Majesty.”
“You’re right, but she did start it.”
“Are you two coming, or has Drinian found another bunny path to follow?”
“I would advise you not to say much until she cools down, Your Majesty.”
Drinian nodded, “I will not make the same mistake twice, and from now on we only follow the map.”
Constance was now sitting on her horse waiting for them.
“First, we must connect the horses,” Woodphere said, taking a coil of rope from his horse.
“Where would you like me, Woodphere?” Drinian asked.
“Drinian, lead your horse to the back. Constance, you will be in the middle and I'll lead.”
Woodphere and Drinian busily hooked up the horses and made sure the cinches were taut. Then Woodphere mounted his horse and said, “Now, if you feel your horse falling or stumbling tell me, and I will stop.”
As they entered the swamp Constance held her breath as long as possible. The smell was horrid, and as she rode green slimy algae splashed onto her legs.
“You say there are no snakes in here, right?” Constance asked.
“Well...,” Drinian replied, before getting interrupted.
“I was talking to Woodphere,” Constance muttered.
“On the contrary, I'm afraid there are many,” Woodphere simply replied.
“What a comfort.”
“Do not worry, I do have my dagger,” Drinian said.
Constance stared ahead without saying a word. After several minutes passed, Drinian wondered if he should apologize, for now he was feeling quite guilty for what he had said earlier.
“I'm sorry,” Drinian spoke quietly to Constance.
Constance did not respond and continued to ignore him.
“Constance, I am very sorry for going off the trail.” “How much humble pie do I have to eat?”
“The whole pie! Saying you’re sorry is no excuse at all.”
“You said some pretty nasty things to me as well, like calling me a stubborn horse!”
“You were acting like a stubborn horse!”
“Alright, maybe I was ... and I am truly sorry for making fun of you, will you forgive me this time?”
Constance sighed, “Alright I forgive you, but just this once.”
Drinian gave a sigh of relief.
Constance, sat in her saddle as thoughts of all the nasty things she had said to Drinian ran through her head. Of course she wouldn’t apologize to him, he was the one who ran off. But the more she thought the more her conscience nibbled at her. Finally she spoke quietly, “I’m sorry Drinian, for being so rude and difficult,” as a peace filled her heart.
“I forgive you,” Drinian replied.
Now that Constance’s mind was no longer lingering over the argument, the swamp thick with algae and mud, had her full attention. She could feel Dutch straining mightily to lift one hoof at a time.
Constance sat restless in the saddle. As she looked about she felt chills run down her back. The woods was almost dark even in daytime, big branches and rocks lay everywhere and steam hovered above the swamp from the intense heat. Suddenly Dutch plunged into a mud hole and gave out a loud neigh as she struggled to get free.
“Woodphere, stop! Dutch is sinking!” Constance exclaimed.
/> Woodphere quickly dismounted and jumped into the slimy muck.
“Drinian I am going to need your help getting her free,” Woodphere said, as he sloshed his way to the horse.
“Yes sir,” Drinian replied, as he dismounted.
“Constance, you need to get off Dutch,” Woodphere commanded.
“Step into the swamp?” Constance gasped in utter disgust.
“You need to get off her now, before she sinks any further.”
“Now Constance, go sit on Luke so you do not have to stand in this stuff,” Woodphere continued.
Her feet felt like bricks as she trudged through the lukewarm sludge and climbed onto Luke. Her shoes now were plastered in mud, and she felt dirty all over. Constance felt even sorrier for the horses.
Woodphere and Drinian had it even worse. Woodphere was on his knees in the swamp trying to free Dutch's hoof, while Drinian was doing the same on opposite side.
“Drinian gets that log over there and put it in front of Dutch.”
Once this was accomplished, Woodphere was able to pull Dutch's hoof from the mud and onto the log that Drinian had laid down.
“Alright Constance, get off Luke now and lead him. I’ll lead Dutch and Drinian will lead Arctic.”
“Come on boy, you can do it!” Constance encouraged Luke.
Suddenly Constance tripped over something that was in her path, and plunged into to the water.
“Are you alright?” Drinian asked, letting go of Arctic’s reins and splashing over to Constance.
“I'm fine,” Constance replied, pulling herself up with Luke's reins.
By the time Drinian reached her, Constance was standing upright.
“Are you sure you are alright?”
“Yes I'm fine; I tripped over a log.”
“Here, I'll take over Luke and lead the rest of the way so you can go on back to Arctic,” Drinian said, taking Luke's reins.
“No, I can see the opening already,” Constance insisted.
Constance held tight to Luke as they continued through the swamp. “Anything would be better than this, even Drinian's shortcut would have been better than this.” An hour later they finally reached the mainland.
“That was exhausting!” Constance muttered, as she tumbled to the ground.
“Indeed, I do not remember anything more exhausting, besides the Battle of Parkton, that is.” Drinian exclaimed, as he too fell to the ground in exhaustion.
“The Battle of Parkton?” Constance asked in curiosity.
“While I was fifteen, there was a battle between the Molters and the Avoneans, with the Molters ending up the victors. I watched from afar on a hill.”
“How was it so exhausting for you, if you only watched?”
“Have you ever watched a battle?” It does something terrible to your nerves. Don’t you agree Woodphere?”
“Indeed, I would not wish to be in another battle, unless Your Majesty’s life is at stake.”
“Thank you Woodphere, I am glad to know you would stand by my side.”
“Once you become king, Your Majesty, you will see many battles. They are not pretty affairs, your father found that out,” Woodphere said softly.
“Are there any rivers or creeks around here?” “I feel positively disgusting,” Constance groaned.
“Let me look at the map. I think I remember a well somewhere around here,” Woodphere replied, as he pulled out his map.
“Ah, here it is, it seems to be a mile away.”
“A mile away! Isn't there anything closer?” Constance asked.
“I am afraid not.”
“I guess you will have to suffer, until we reach the well,” Drinian sighed.
Constance gave another sigh as she continued leading Dutch.
“So Woodphere, tell me about my mother, and how she got here.”
“Why are you asking me now? I thought you were too weary to talk?”
“I want to know, and maybe it will pass some time.”
“Alright... I don't even know where to start. I guess at the beginning, but I'm afraid I would bore you if I told you everything. Back in the day when I was King Simian’s councilman, I met Kathryn in the countryside standing in the road looking very confused. I thought I was looking at an angel, she was so beautiful,” Woodphere said, staring ahead and reliving the memory.
“We became instant friends and when I learned she had always wanted to meet royalty I invited her to the palace and introduced her to King Simian. He promptly fell in love with her and hired her as a nurse for Drinian, who was a toddler at the time.”
“Aw... Drinian how cute!” Constance replied.
“If you say so,” Drinian responded.
“By the time Kathryn had spent six months in the castle King Simian proposed to her, but she turned him down, for she loved another,” Woodphere continued.
“Who?” Constance asked in curiosity.
“Why yours truly of course,” Woodphere replied.
“My mother was in love with you, Woodphere? Wasn't there a bit of age difference?”
“How old do you think I am?”
“At least forty-five,” Constance replied.
“Close enough, no need to guess any older.”
“Because you are older,” Drinian muttered.
“Your Majesty, it is not proper to discuss others ages.”
“Please Woodphere, could you continue on about my mother.”
“Anyway, I proposed to Kathryn, but she refused me also.”
“Why?”
“She said that she belonged in her own world, and that same day she left. Was your father a good man?” Woodphere asked.
“Yes, he was, until he left for work in California and never returned. Till this day I don't know he’s dead or alive,” Constance replied.
“How terrible,” Woodphere sighed.
For the rest of the way, they walked in silence, each lost in their own thoughts as they entered a lovely meadow with a scattering of trees.
“There, look up ahead, I see the well!” Drinian pointed as they gazed upon a hill.
“Finally!” Constance gasped with joy.
They traipsed up the steep hill wearily, with legs straining and quivering as they ascended.
“Look there's the Kallies village,” Drinian said, pointing to the valley below.
“What a quaint little settlement, it's very cute!” Constance exclaimed.
“Water, finally,” Woodphere's uttered, as he walked toward the well.
They refreshed themselves with cold water, cleaned up there torn muddy clothes, and started pouring water over the horse’s backs.
“Here you are girl, you've been through a lot today,” Constantine said, as she gave Dutch an apple that she had picked from a nearby tree.
Drinian stood by the well and watched as Constance cared for her horse. What was so different about this girl? Was it her stubbornness and determination, or was it her gentleness while she attended to his injured arm?
When Constance looked up to see Drinian watching her; he quickly put his head down.
“Well you two, it's time that we must be on our way,” Woodphere said after they had all refreshed themselves.
“Indeed Woodphere, let us be on our way,” Drinian repeated.
And with that they made their way down the hill toward the Kallies village.
The Kallies
Soon they arrived at the poor village. Little boys ran around pushing rocks with sticks as toys, and little girls sat by a dried up old well playing with corn husk dolls.
“This is such a humble place,” Constance murmured, as she looked around.
“Indeed, but they are very proud of what little they may have,” Drinian replied.
Suddenly a little girl who had been sitting by the well noticed the group arriving and came running up to them. She had long black curly hair, dark brown eyes, and her dress was a faded red. She held a scraggly flower in her left hand that was missing several petals. She walked up to Consta
nce and handed her the pitiful looking thing.
“Why thank you,” Constance expressed, receiving the gift.
The little girl gave Constance a toothless grin, for she was missing her three front teeth.
“Hello, Rosella,” Drinian said as he picked her up into his arms.
Rosella gave a quiet giggle.
“How are you? And how is your brother Razelle?”
“I'm well, but Razelle is not feeling happy today.” she replied.
“Do you think you could take me to him?” Drinian asked, putting her down.
Rosella nodded her head, and rushed ahead of them.
“You know her?”
“Yes, Woodphere and I come here often trying to help them. Not all of them trust us, though.”
“Because of the Molters?”
“Yes, although we have been able to establish relationships with a few different families, which is a start.”
They stopped talking and followed Rosella to a tiny wooden hut, resembling one you might see in an African village. A red haired woman greeted them at the door as they came in.
“Your Majesty, I am so grateful you are here. Razelle has been waiting for you for over a month!” the women exclaimed.
“I am sorry we did not come sooner,” Drinian replied.
When they walked inside the small hut Drinian immediately went over to the corner of the room. A small child lying in bed appeared to be nearly eight years old.
“Drinian, you have come!” Razelle beamed, as he sat up in his bed.
“Hello, Razelle. How are you feeling?” Drinian asked, sitting down on the little boy’s bed.
“I feel much better now that you have come!”
Constance leaned over and whispered into Woodphere's ear.
“What is the matter with him?”
“He's crippled in both legs,” Woodphere whispered back.
“Was he born that way, or was he in an accident?”
“He was in an accident two years ago. He was playing outside when his ball rolled under a wagon. He ran to get it, but the horse spooked and the wagon wheels rolled over his legs, breaking both of them. He was fortunate that he did not have to have them amputated.”
“How terrible,” Constance whispered.
“Here, I have a present for you,” Drinian said, pulling out of his satchel a gingerbread cookie.
“Thank you, Drinian!” Razelle replied, his eyes wide with excitement, as he reached for the treat.
A Path Toward Home (The Annals of Avonea) Page 5