by Melina Grace
When morning came, they were not so gentle. They woke him early and forced him to drink a scalding mug of tea, after which he found himself able to get up and wash in the small stream.
“Mount up, Janen.” Syngar handed him some dried meat and hoisted him into his saddle. “Look sharp, it’s time to rejoin the living!”
As Kalen turned their horses to go back the way they had come she asked Janen, “How are you feeling?”
With surprise and relief, he realised the melancholy fog that had clouded his thoughts for the previous day was lifting. He looked around with renewed clarity. “I think I’m okay,” he told her.
“Bout time,” was Syngar’s chirpy rejoinder.
Kalen shook her head affectionately at Syngar, and Janen marvelled that even in the direst situations, he refused to stay serious for too long.
They rode their horses at a walk, not wanting to miss the point where the lost ones departed from the trail. Janen concentrated all his energies on studying the bush around him but failed to find any sign of grey ones. At midday they gave him more tea, chasing away the fog he hadn’t realised had begun to seep back in. After a short break, they pressed on.
The afternoon progressed and Syngar’s repeated questioning of whether Janen was okay and really focusing began to grate on his nerves. He swallowed his irritation, however, painfully aware of how he had let them down the previous day.
At dusk, they reached the location of their clash with the derks. The area stank, and insects swarmed all over the bloodied corpses. Janen dismounted and circled the small clearing until he found the point where the lost ones had cut into the bush. Someone with only one eye could have seen signs of their passing here. I don’t know how I missed it.
He waved Kalen and Syngar over and following Janen in single file, they weaved through the bushes. The mood was sombre. They had wasted two days and they would not be able to move quickly through the dense undergrowth in pursuit.
When they had put some distance between them and the putrid smelling derks, Kalen called a stop in a small clearing. Janen dismounted in dismay. He knew he could not continue to track in the dim light, but he also knew he would not be making it back to Caris anytime soon.
Tired, but with his body craving fresh meat again, Janen headed into the trees with his bow. Though not willing to track in the dim light for fear of losing the lost one’s trail again, there was enough light for Janen to search out an animal. They had scared the animals away in their immediate vicinity, but he didn’t have to go too far before finding one that wasn’t wary enough.
He took his kill back to where the others had started a small warm fire. He was disappointed the pink furry animal was so small, but consoled himself that some meat was better than none. He collapsed next to the fire; his mind was beginning to fog with fatigue again. Kalen took the animal from him and moving away into the bushes deftly began to skin it.
“Mmmm, a bobby, tender,” said Syngar in appreciation.
“None for you, he needs it,” said Kalen sternly, as if speaking to a small child.
“But...” protested Syngar.
“I intend to share, of course,” said Janen.
“We’ll do well enough with our supplies,” said Kalen, “Your body needs this to recover.”
Janen was too tired to continue protesting. He started to rise to help Syngar with the horses.
“Syngar can manage, you sit still and get warm,” Kalen ordered.
Janen hadn’t realised he was cold but when he looked down he realised he was shaking.
“You know, you get quite bossy when you’ve got a patient,” Syngar said to Kalen with a grin.
“It’s not my fault everyone else lacks commonsense,” she said grumpily, before relenting and grinning back at Syngar.
“Is it cold?” Janen asked, struggling to keep up with the conversation.
“No,” Kalen replied, looking concerned, “We’ve all pushed you too hard over the last couple of days. Somehow, you managed to keep going during our battle with the grey ones, and then the next day as well. But you’ve only delayed your reaction, your body will have its respite whether we can afford to let it or not. I fear the more we keep pushing you the longer and more severe your recovery will be. I think we should stop for a couple of days,” she said, looking at Syngar. “They already have two days lead on us. We are not going to catch them soon and we can’t keep pushing him indefinitely.”
“No!” Janen said angrily. “We can’t stop. I will keep going. I can keep going. Just give me some more of that tea and I will be fine. Give me some more now, so I mend faster.”
“It doesn’t work that way, the tea clears your mind so you can concentrate, but it isn’t helping your body recover, it is merely masking the symptoms. The only thing that will allow you to recover is rest.”
“I cannot rest while people are dying.”
“I will sleep on it. In the morning I will decide what we will do,” said Kalen.
As everyone wanted Janen to sleep, he allowed himself to do so while his bobby roasted on a spit over the fire. Syngar roused him with his boot when it was done and Janen ate it ravenously. Syngar watched him openly with playful comments about his greed. Janen felt guilty about not sharing but enough of his usual humour surfaced to allow him to tease Syngar about how delicious it tasted.
The next few days passed in a haze for Janen, each morning after they’d saddled the horses Kalen woke him with hot tea and handed him dried meat to eat as they rode. He was able to concentrate well enough to stay on the trail of the lost ones. Indeed they crashed through the bush so carelessly, Janen was surprised Kalen and Syngar couldn’t read the signs themselves. At midday, Kalen gave him more tea and then they would ride until dark.
Syngar and Kalen tended the horses, the fire, and did the cooking. A couple of times Janen hunted, Syngar and Kalen not having the skill to find something after dark and not trusting themselves to not get lost in the dense bush. When he didn’t hunt, there were enough dry rations in their saddle bags. Syngar had collected all the food from the other horses before they left The King’s road. He knew the others would have time to hunt, and there was plenty more food with Bonny and the pack horses.
Janen had not paid any attention to their supplies, but after four days, Kalen asked him whether they were gaining on the lost ones at all. Janen admitted himself confused.
“Each night when we stop, I think we have gained on them considerably. In the morning the trail has grown colder, understandably as a night has passed, but there is no sign of where they have camped, no fires, and we don’t seem to be catching them as fast as we should when we have horses.”
“The Dark One would not allow them to sleep for long now that they have the pendant. He will be pushing them beyond their limits. They will be moving quickly, and the horses cannot go much faster through this bush,” replied Syngar.
“When we stopped last night I would estimate they had half a day’s lead on us. But as I don’t know how long they stopped I will not be able to tell for sure until midday.”
“If only they would leave this bush and find a trail wide enough for us to gallop our horses,” said Syngar.
“We have run out of food Janen. You need to hunt each day, choose the best time of day to hunt something bigger. I will smoke the left over’s during the night to provide for our midday meals,” said Kalen.
Janen sighed; this was not going to help them gain on the lost ones.
Gradually, Janen’s fatigue began to lift. His limbs stopped feeling so heavy, and the need to sleep as soon as they stopped became less overwhelming. Kalen started giving him a weakened dose of the tea, and he found that his thoughts were clearer. The tea had helped him focus on tracking but had almost made his concentration too intense. Now he found himself able to carry on a conversation while still watching for signs along their path.
The hunting seemed to help as well, a feeling of peace filled Janen, as he walked through the trees, allowing his senses
to become attuned to the sounds and feel of the bush around him. Hunting was different to tracking. When he was tracking, he was following signs that had been left behind in the past. Hunting grounded him in the present, in what was happening right now. Every sense was called into use, not just his eyes. He couldn’t afford to hunt for long but that small respite made him feel better for the remainder of the day.
The fresh meat and the greens that Kalen collected each day also seemed to be renewing his energy, and though chafing at the delay, Janen was grateful for the good food.
CHAPTER TEN
Caris shot the grey-scaled animal in the eye, it landed with a yelp at her feet. She looked around at the others expecting them to be speeding toward her; they looked unsure what to do after this unexpected resistance.
Her path north was blocked. Caris turned Indira quickly and, with another arrow knocked, started backing away. She was to the other side of her little clearing before the others began slinking in to nose around their dead leader.
Caris put some bushes between her and her attackers and then, taking Indira’s rein, began to run through the trees. She tried to move quietly, not wanting to draw their attention to her, but her main aim was to put as much distance between her and those vicious creatures as possible.
She had not gone far enough, in her estimation, when the bloodcurdling sound of howling filled the jungle. She had never heard the sound before but it chilled her to her bones. The howls spread out as the animals dispersed through the trees, heading quickly in her direction. She wanted desperately to leap onto Indira’s back but there was no room, so she ran, reins in one hand, bow and arrow in the other.
She ran frantically, faster than she had ever done before, no longer worried about making noise, too terrified to even notice that her frenzied horse stayed with her instead of running away in panic.
Snarls alerted her that the ferocious animals had caught up. Caris turned to see two of them bearing down on her. She loosed two arrows in quick succession. One animal went down, and her second arrow caught its target as it leapt through the air toward her.
Caris retrieved her arrow from the large animal at her feet, trying not to look too closely at its large teeth dripping with saliva. She looked around.
The remaining four creatures were trying to circle her. I need a clearing; she could not protect herself and Indira, if they circled her in these close shrubs.
She grabbed Indira’s reins and began to run again but she knew they were almost upon her.
Caris finally ran out into a small clearing big enough for her to put Indira in the middle and allow room for her to manoeuvre around her. It was not ideal but it was better than the narrow track they had been travelling. She turned quickly; her only hope was to take them out before they could all attack at once. She had four arrows, and if no others had joined their pack, there were four more animals. Caris raised her bow and arrow looking for a target. They move so quietly when they’re not howling, she marvelled at what adept hunters they were. The sound of snarls surrounded her.
Frantically, she searched for a target, but bushes mostly concealed each animal. Taking a deep breath, she lined one up and waited for a clear shot. He started inching forward. Out of the side of her eye, she could see the one to her right doing the same and she expected the other two were also creeping up on her.
As soon as his head cleared the shrub, she shot him in the eye, then spun taking out the one behind her as it leapt toward Indira. She had no time to line her last two shots up, but instinct and years of practice led her arrows to their mark.
Caris stood, adrenalin pumping through her. It took a few moments before she realised it was over. She slumped back against Indira, exhausted.
Howls filled the jungle to the north of her. It was hard to tell but they seemed to be coming from about ten different animals. Refusing to think about her chances of surviving this, she collected the four arrows from the beasts around her and, grabbing Indira’s reins, began to run through the trees.
Caris ran until her chest ached, faithful Indira on her heels. She could hear the occasional howl in the jungle behind her as the beasts neared. She didn’t know where all the other jungle animals had gone and why she was the only prey left for these hunters. Indira couldn’t climb a tree and they could not hide in a burrow or an empty trunk. She hadn’t noticed when the surrounding jungle had gone quiet that morning, so did not know how much head start the other animals had before the beasts had arrived.
As the animals closed in, she couldn’t escape the feeling they were tracking her.
Instinct made her turn as three beasts broke from the trees four horse lengths from her. She shot them down. There was movement in the trees on both sides of her.
She ran, crashing through bushes that tore at her skin, whenever they crowded her narrow trail. Her sides ached and sweat clouded her vision but she forced herself to greater speed.
She burst from the trees onto the sandy edge of the river. Caris looked in shock at the wide expanse of water that had curved around in a wide bend completely cutting off her line of flight.
She turned back to find herself surrounded by snarling sharp teethed beasts slowly moving toward her.
Caris began backing into the water, pulling Indira with her. The horse’s eyes were rolling and it was tossing its head in fear of the beasts. The water was unfamiliar to her, but she followed the pull of the rein and stepped in after Caris. The floor sloped gently into the river. Caris and Indira were taller than the beasts and she hoped they would be able to stand in the deeper water and wait their attackers out.
Seeing their prey escaping, the grey-scaled animals sprang to the attack. Caris launched back from them, Indira followed and Caris floundered beneath the water as the ground disappeared from under her feet.
Caris flayed about under water in a panic until her hand brushed a warm body. She grabbed a fist full of mane and pulled herself toward Indira. She kicked her legs and her head broke the surface. Before Caris bobbed back under, she noticed that Indira’s head was still above water. She must still be able to reach the bottom, she realised with relief. Holding onto Indira’s neck, Caris pulled her own head above water. Only then did she notice the strong current washing them downstream away from the howling animals on the beach.
Kicking her legs and holding onto Indira, Caris took in their situation. Indira is swimming, she realised in surprise. Crispin was half sitting, half lying with his bottom on the saddle and his arms wrapped around Indira’s neck where she had tied him. The horse had quite a load and seemed to be struggling to keep them all afloat.
Caris moved her hand down to hold onto the saddle, rather than pulling Indira’s neck down. She was still clutching her bow and her quiver was still on her back. Reasoning that her weapons were lighter than herself she awkwardly managed to tie them to her pack on Indira’s rump, then set about using one arm and two legs to do most of the work keeping her afloat. Her remaining hand clutched the saddle tightly and gave her the assurance she needed that she wouldn’t sink.
After a while, Caris and Indira got into a rhythm. She found that Indira was pulling her along with the current while Caris put most of her own efforts into keeping afloat. She turned her head to check on Crispin and found him staring at her with a wide-eyed startled look on his face. A giggle escaped her, his face expression was so funny and it really was a very odd place to wake up, but mostly she was just extremely relieved to see him awake.
“It’s alright Crispin, everything is going to be okay.” She didn’t think it was really the appropriate time to explain why he was being carried downriver on a horse’s back, or to go into the fact that she had no idea how they were going to get out of there, so she stuck to empty platitudes until his face relaxed and he slowly drifted off to sleep.
Caris looked back the way they had come. She couldn’t tell which little beach was the one they had entered the river from but judging by how fast the land on the side of the river was falling away behind
them, Caris suspected they had left it and the beasts far behind. She realised with dismay that the river had curved back around and was carrying them west, farther and farther away from the trail back and The King’s road.
Indira was getting tired; they needed to get out of the river. The river was narrower now but seemed to be moving even faster. They rushed past the towering trees that pressed right up to the water’s edge. Caris could see no suitable place for Indira to climb out of the water. They needed to move closer to the bank so they would be ready when a likely spot offered itself.
Caris was tired, but she had discovered the more she stretched herself out on top of the water while kicking her feet and waving her arm, the easier it was to float. She pulled herself level with Indira’s head, confident now that she could hold onto Indira without pulling her down. “Come on Indira, this way, come on.” The tired horse looked at Caris and started following her promptings. Very slowly, they cut across the current and neared the bank.
The current washed them a long way west before they finally reached a small beach where Indira could gain her feet and they could climb out of the water.
Indira stood on the coarse sand shaking. Ignoring her own fatigue, Caris rushed to unload her exhausted horse. She pulled her pack and bedroll off first, dumping them quickly on the ground, then turned back to begin the process of untying Crispin. He groaned as she pulled him off Indira’s back and dragged him over to lay him on some grass.
Caris smiled, she had never been so happy to hear a groan in her life. After almost two days of him lying as if dead, any sign of life was an immense relief to Caris. She left him on the grass and rushed back to Indira, who was the greater concern now. The horse had pushed herself way beyond her limits and was in real danger. Caris undid the swollen leather straps of the saddle and relieved Indira of that last burden.
Indira stumbled after Caris as the young woman led her to a close patch of soft grass. She removed her halter, “You can lie down now,” she told the tired horse, but Indira’s legs were locked beneath her. The horse hung her head, too tired to crop even the long grass at her feet. Caris tapped her knees and obediently Indira found the strength to lower herself to the ground.