by Melina Grace
Caris arrived back as the last of the light was seeping from the forest. Crispin had started a fire and was sitting with his back to it staring into the black scrub across the creek. He looked like he could barely stay awake and it didn’t take much urging from Caris to convince him to lay down and sleep while she cooked their meal. She lowered the quillet from Indira’s rump. She was proud of how Indira had so quickly become accustomed to the smell of blood. The quillet was a beautiful animal and she had been sad to shoot it but if it tasted anything like eppet then they were in for a treat.
When Caris finished roasting the meat, she roused Crispin. He woke groggily and accepted the meal she handed him. After he’d eaten a few mouthfuls he found the energy to speak, “I take it by the dejected look on your face when you returned you didn’t find a way around to the north?”
“No, if anything, it got darker the farther I went.” It had been a lonely afternoon for Caris. The exhilaration of her morning ride had waned and she found her thoughts repeatedly turning to Janen. She had missed him over the last week, but the images that flashed through her head as she rode along the side of the creek were much more vivid. She was afraid for him and felt he must be in some kind of danger. She told herself, the dark atmosphere of the bush was weighing on her, but she could not shake her concern for him.
****
Janen crept through the bush, he had glimpsed a quillet through the trees and was circling around to get downwind of it when he heard Syngar yell his name. Immediately, Janen began to run back toward their small camp, startling the quillet who bounded away through the trees. They had been slowly catching up with the lost ones, who Janen estimated were now only a half a morning’s ride ahead of them. Even taking into account the fact that the lost ones slept so little, Janen thought they would probably catch them by the following evening.
The lost ones were well out of hearing range, but even so, Janen knew Syngar would not so vagrantly risk detection when they were finally closing in on their quarry ─ unless it was a real emergency.
As he neared their camp, he heard the sounds of fighting; cursing himself for leaving his sword with his bag, Janen slowed. The lesson he had learned when ambushed by the derks was deeply imprinted on his mind. He approached the camp surreptitiously. Peering from behind a large tree, he took in the situation.
Janen almost yelled in surprise when he saw the strange creatures surrounding his friends. They looked like lizards, but stood on two legs and were as tall as a man. Eight of them surrounded Kalen and Syngar, taking turns to swipe at them with their long claws. Kalen and Syngar stood, back to back, fending them off with swords. They held one hand over their eyes, peering out from between their fingers.
Janen realised Syngar was using his sword, so ruled out retrieving that as an option. There were four dead beasts at the edge of the clearing with knives protruding from their eyes and Janen guessed Syngar had nailed them when they first converged on the clearing, before their superior numbers had succeeded in hemming them in. Another animal lay dead on the ground in front of Kalen, hindering her attackers.
It only took Janen a moment to take in the scene. He quickly recovered from his shock and started firing arrows. He was dismayed to discover that though the arrows did pierce the skin, they didn’t do much damage. The lizard creatures merely swatted them away, ignoring the bloody holes left behind.
Janen concentrated on aiming at their eyes, but the creatures moved constantly and, though a good shot, Janen had never had the precision accuracy of Caris. He managed to get one, after four near misses, bringing some relief to Syngar who was inexperienced with a sword.
Janen fired the rest of his arrows, only succeeding in killing one more of their attackers. He decided he would be better off trying to attack the creatures from behind with a long knife, and so raced to pull one of Syngar’s knives from a lizard.
He had just succeeded in pulling the knife free when he heard a sound behind him. He spun on his heel just in time to slash at the lizard that leapt out of the bushes.
With dismay, he took in the four that were bearing down on him from behind it. He had succeeded in cutting the first animal, but it continued to lash at him with its long claws. Janen fought it while edging toward a tree. With a deep breath of relief, he reached it and placed his back to it, preventing another attack from behind.
The knife was too short to be very effective against the creature’s long arms, but it was its light weight that Janen was having the most trouble adapting to. He felt unbalanced and constantly over swung, leaving himself open for the creature to slash at him.
Before Janen had succeeded in adapting to the small weapon, he was covered in cuts. The pain, rather than distracting him, proved to be a quick teacher.
The first time the creature spat at him Janen ignored it until he felt his skin begin to sizzle and realised the excruciating pain of the burn. The second spray of acid landed on his cheek and he realised why Kalen and Syngar had been covering their eyes. He covered his own and lashed out in fury, severing one of the lizard’s limbs.
He cleanly finished it off and began his defence against the others that pressed him in its place.
As he adapted to the weapon, he found that by cutting off his attackers arms he could easily gain opportunity to follow through with a killing lunge.
Kalen noticed what he was doing and, with practised expertise, followed his example, quickly despatching her remaining attackers. Janen and Kalen joined forces to relieve the beleaguered Syngar and soon there were no more of the vitreous lizards with which to contend.
They stood in exhaustion and agonising pain. The cuts all over Janen’s body stung but the burns were an all-consuming agony.
Syngar held Janen’s sword out to him, “I don’t like your sword,” he said, taking his knife back. Janen laughed aloud despite his pain.
“We have to get out of here, the Dark One knows where we are. Who knows who he will send against us next,” said Kalen.
They quickly gathered their things together and went in search of the horses.
They rode for the rest of the afternoon. Janen found it difficult to think about anything but the unbearable pain from the scorch marks that covered his chest, arms, and face. The acid had burnt straight through his clothes and into his skin, wherever it landed. Kalen and Syngar had fared better. Their uniforms had proven impervious to the liquid, so only their forearms and faces were burnt.
Syngar had been the most seriously cut up. Janen hoped that none of his lesions were too serious, but at the moment he thought he would willingly exchange his myriad burns for one honest wound. It took all his will power to keep riding and maintain the concentration needed to stay on the lost one’s trail.
Finally, toward dusk Kalen let out an exclamation of relief.
“Janen, stop here,” she called ahead to him. The trail was too narrow for him to even turn Prince around and he wondered at her choosing such an unlikely spot to stop. Pain and the need to follow the signs left by the lost ones completely consumed his thoughts, and so he sat his horse in misery without the resources to question her strange command.
Kalen let out a small cry of pain as she climbed down from her horse’s back and started cutting a bunch of purple flowers. When she was finally finished, she remounted.
“Janen, we need to find water, but not on this trail. Can you lead us away from the track to water and still get us back here on the morrow?”
Janen forced himself to contemplate her request. “Finding this point again will not be difficult, finding water will be harder.” He looked up, trying to ascertain where the sun was through the thick foliage overhead. “We don’t have much light left, but if there is some nearby I will find it.”
“I can do with what is in our flasks if I must, though it will be better if we can have clean flowing water, but either way we cannot stay on this trail. It is too easy for our enemies to find us here.”
He led them off the path into the trees, forcing his mind
to focus on the bush around him. Following the signs left behind by the lost ones was not that difficult. Finding water was more challenging under normal circumstances, but with little light, time, and focus he didn’t relish the task.
He rode for a while trying to discover a natural descent to the land, whether there was any obvious foliage that was greener in the distance, or whether he could find a main animal trail. He tried listening for the sounds of water or an abundance of bird noises, but the sound of the horses was too loud. Finally, he dismounted.
“I need to walk, you wait here.”
“I don’t think we should separate,” said Syngar, his voice fearful.
Janen looked at Kalen, passed caring either way. “Do you want water?”
After a moment, she replied, “Okay.”
He moved ahead through the bushes, listening to the sounds of the forest around him. It was hard for him to concentrate but he did his best, focusing on moving silently. He needed to observe the animals and he could only do that if he didn’t first scare them away.
When he had moved far enough from Kalen, Syngar, and the horses, the forest began to come alive around him. It was a good time of day for finding water; many of the animals would be heading for a drink, or returning before dark. Quietly he watched them go about their business. Many were eating, cleaning themselves, their abodes, or their young, or just doing general animal things.
In the end, a large eppet led him, weaving among the trees, to a small creek gurgling happily through the long grass that lined its sides.
Returning took longer than he expected, he hadn’t realised he had gone so far. He moved painfully through the trees, finally reaching the worried pair who waited in the gathering dark. Kalen and Syngar sat despondently in the dirt. Janen noticed they hadn’t even removed the horse’s bits from their mouths to allow them to graze more easily.
“How did you fare?” asked Kalen as he came into sight.
“Success,” he replied, almost smiling. “It is a fair distance from here.”
Syngar and Kalen climbed silently into their saddles and Janen followed. He led them through the brush in the gathering gloom; taking a roundabout way, not trusting himself to find the creek again if he didn’t follow the path he had taken when searching for it. He looked about carefully, everything looked different in the dark. Janen knew that if he missed his way he would not find it again tonight. Finally, the sounds of the creek reached them and Janen let out a sigh of relief. They dismounted beside it and unburdened the horses, allowing them to drink from the stream and chop at the long green grass.
Janen knew Syngar had been rationing the horse’s grain; this hadn’t been a problem as there was plenty of grass around and they hadn’t been pushing the horses hard through the thick undergrowth. He wasn’t surprised when Syngar said,
“Grass will do them tonight.”
The strain in his voice caused Janen to look at him in concern, however. Syngar was pale and the way he was holding his stomach was worrying.
Janen and Syngar collapsed by the water after a long cooling drink, but Kalen moved under the trees to collect wood.
“Bathe your sores in the water,” she called out to them.
Janen didn’t want to. He was so tired and he dreaded the pain he imagined the cold water would heighten in his burns. He was accustomed to obeying her though, so he reluctantly stripped down to his small clothes and began to submerge his sores. To his amazement, he found that the water helped alleviate some of the pain. It was difficult to cup enough water onto his torso and as soon as he removed himself from the water the pain returned, so in the end he laid down in the shallow creek, keeping as many of the burns submerged as he could.
Kalen had collected a pile of wood and was painfully grinding the flowers, she had collected, between two rocks. Reluctantly, Janen left the water and built the fire, it caught quickly causing the pain in his burns to flare up. He moved back hastily, escaping the heat.
“Is there anything else you need me to do?” he asked her.
“Could you bring me some greenleaf please?” she asked gesturing to a green leafy plant that grew abundantly wherever there was water to be found.
Janen collected a bunch of the smooth leaves and took them to her. She took them with thanks and began to grind them up. Janen returned to the water to relieve the sting that had returned to full force already. He lay there for a long time until, shivering all over, he reluctantly got out and went to sit on a rock, well away from the fire.
He watched in dismay as Kalen stirred the ground up plants with water in a pot over the flames. Tears streamed down her red face but she continued to work in silence. He noticed the deep ugly sores, that covered her face, sorrowfully. Her skin will be marred terribly, he thought, as will mine and Syngar’s, but it is such a shame for Kalen, she is so beautiful.
“Can I do that?” he asked, “You go and relieve yourself in the water.”
“I am almost done,” she replied. Janen watched her continue to labour, until some time later, she collected some more water and added it to her bubbling mixture. Finally, she left it and went down to the creek, where she submerged her whole face and arms in the water.
Janen and Syngar sat at a distance peering miserably into the darkness under the trees. Janen didn’t even want to look at the fire. Even the sight of it seemed to heighten the unrelenting burning that covered his skin wherever the lizard’s poison had made contact.
After a while, Kalen returned and, wincing, retrieved her pot from the fire. Using a blanket to protect her hands she carefully poured the mixture into a mug, and then carried it down to the stream where she wedged it between some rocks to cool in the flowing water. Finishing her task, she returned to submerge her freshly irritated sores in the creek once again.
Janen turned to stare into the woods again. Once upon a time, he realised, he would have been laying on his back staring at the stars. He looked up, it was nice to have a clear sky for a change, the stars were so beautiful. He soon returned to gazing into the trees again though, he had fallen in love with forests and the teeming life they held. Neither Janen nor Syngar moved to get the smoked meat they had in their saddlebags. They were in too much pain to contemplate eating.
When Janen was dry, he moved toward his clothes to dress. He wanted to submerge his burns again but he knew it would only offer temporary relief and he was cold and tired. He didn’t think he would be able to sleep with the pain but he was too tired to remain sitting. He reached for his shirt but Kalen who was returning with the pot of cream prevented him.
“Janen, wait. Sit down.” Painfully he complied. She reached toward his face with a thick wad of cream on her fingers, he flinched away but she moved the extra distance, smothering his most painful burn with the mixture. Janen gasped, the relief was instantaneous. The cream was cold from the stream and seemed to suck the pain out of his sore immediately. He eagerly allowed her to smother the rest of his burns.
When she was finished, he sat back in contentment. The salve worked miraculously, relieving his pain much more effectively than the water had done. The sting was completely gone, leaving behind a sweet sensation wherever the cream touched that felt somehow nicer than the rest of his unharmed skin.
Kalen moved onto Syngar before finally smearing herself with the lavender coloured cream. Janen smiled in contentment. His cuts still hurt, but he could bear with their much more honest seeming pain. He looked over at Syngar, ready to share a smile with the ever-cheerful man, but Syngar was not smiling. His face was drained of colour and he was still holding his stomach.
“Kalen,” Janen said nodding towards Syngar.
“I know,” she replied in a worried tone. “Let me see it,” she said as she pulled Syngar’s shirt up.
Janen gasped when he saw how much blood had soaked into the cloth that Syngar had obviously tied around himself.
“You should have shown me this earlier!” Kalen said angrily.
“What could you have done abo
ut it?” he replied through gritted teeth as she pulled the bandage away. She didn’t answer him.
“Come closer to the fire where I can see it better,” she commanded him.
“Another patient for you to boss around,” he quipped as he painfully got to his feet and shuffled over to the fire.
Janen watched as Kalen examined the wound.
“You’ll survive, usually I’d sew it but I have no needle or thread. Can you please clean this and fill it with water,” she said to Janen handing him the pot. She left Syngar and headed into the trees to collect some more wood for the fire. Kalen built the fire up and while she waited for the water to boil set Janen to tearing up a blanket into bandages while she collected some more greenleaf. She put a few of the new bandages into the boiling water and turned on Janen.
“Have you cleaned your cuts properly?” she demanded.
“I lay down in the stream,” he replied meekly.
“Let me see them.”
She inspected Janen closely by the firelight. When she was finished, she sat back with a grumpy “Hmph. I hate not having my supplies.”
She cleaned Syngar’s wound with a hot wet bandage, ignoring his protests about it burning, then pulled it closed as best she could, covered it with the leaves and bound it with another clean bandage.
“That’s all I can do tonight,” she said angrily and left to collect her bedroll.
Janen helped Syngar get his shirt back on, and then got him into his bedroll, before wearily climbing into his own.
****
Caris and Crispin sat staring into the fire eating their meat. It was the most tender and tasty meat Caris had ever eaten. She hadn’t gathered any greens but there would be plenty of quillet left over to dry so she ate until her stomach hurt. Crispin went straight back to sleep after his meal and Caris washed off the day’s sweat, all the while keeping a wary eye on the oppressive bush across the creek.
When she was finished, she busied herself preparing the meat and getting everything ready for an early departure on the morrow. She hoped to push through as much of the bush as possible on their first day. The less time spent in there the better. She hoped Crispin would be able to keep his seat for at least half the afternoon.