by Philip Smith
“Your little group?”
“Well, that’s slightly emasculating. We have big personalities,” the dwarf scoffed.
“It’s a brotherhood of sorts,” Robert explained. “That’s our crest on that chest over there.”
“Fine. The Brotherhood?” Paige said, her eyes rolling. “But how do you know they will want to help me? I don’t even know why you want to help me.”
“One must uphold honor for all!” the dwarf piped up, reciting the phrase Paige had read on the chest earlier.
“Indeed. Because, I hate the Empire as much as the next free man,” Robert said. “And it’s the right thing to do. I know that, and so do the others. Now, I don’t know for sure if they’ll come. In fact, I can think of one moron who would probably resist the entire endeavor, but if we’re going to Aschin, we have to walk that way anyway to get to the best mountain pass. Worth a shot to ask. They’re not one to leave a damsel in distress.”
“Sure you should be speaking for the entire group?” Broadside asked, his face etched with slight concern.
“Look, just because he acts like he's the leader doesn’t mean he is the boss of me.” Robert chortled.
“Who?” Paige asked.
“The person you’re going to have to convince,” Broadside mumbled.
“Does he have a name?”
“Obviously!” Broadside snapped.
“Broadside likes to think he’s protecting Dinendale by keeping his name mysterious.” Robert laughed. Broadside’s ears turned red as he scowled up at him.
“You know he has a price on his head,” Broadside snapped.
“And until this week she didn't even know there was an Empire who would cash in that reward,” Robert retorted.
“Whatever. You don’t think he’ll be too keen on helping us?” Paige retorted.
“I think he’ll come around. The others will come without him, but he’s only one who has been to Aschin before. Knowing someone who knows the terrain and the layout would go a long way in helping make an impossible task merely improbable.”
Paige searched Robert’s face. His expression was softer now than it had been, and she wanted to believe she could see kindness in his soft blue eyes. But she bit her bottom lip apprehensively.
“And if they decide not to come, will you try and stop me from going after my sister?”
“Absolutely not. You have my word.”
“But can I trust your word?”
“Guess you’ll find out.”
“Then it’s settled,” Broadside said. He grabbed a bottle off one of the shelves by the fireplace and pulled the cork. “We’ll head out tomorrow.”
“Or you could go now, since there isn’t any time to lose. Gather the boys, and we’ll meet you at sundown tomorrow,” Robert ordered. The dwarf looked put-off as he re-corked the bottle and set it back up on the shelf.
“Fine. Where do you want to meet?”
“Willow Hollow. We’ve got most of the gear stashed there by now, yes?”
“Most of it.”
“Then tell them all to meet there by sundown. We’ll see you then.”
The dwarf nodded then turned to Paige and made a slight bow from his pudgy waist.
“Until tomorrow, m’lady,” Broadside said, before he secured the arming cap atop his head, saluted sharply, then waddled out the door and into the darkness while humming an off-key tune.
“We’d better get packed if we want to get to the Grove on time. We’ll pack everything up tonight so we can leave first thing in the morning.”
Paige nodded. She whispered “Soighren” to change her blade back to the hairpin, which she neatly tucked into her braid. Robert nodded his approval with an impressed look.
“Not bad. It’s not every day you’re lucky enough to find some practical magic enchanting a sword.”
“It was my mother’s. I had no idea she had it till…” She trailed off, and Robert didn’t press the conversation further. He moved to the fireplace and picked up the massive spear.
“This was given to me by my mentor just before he died. Count yourself lucky you know how to wield yours. I know this spear has magic in it because I can feel it in my fingers, but till I can discover what power lies within it, it’s just a heavy toad-sticker. But that spear is all I have of my father. He died before I got the chance to meet him. So I understand what it is to have something that precious.”
“I’m so sorry,” Paige offered. “I can’t even imagine growing up without a father.”
“The hermit took care of me well enough,” Robert shrugged. “He was the closest to a father I had, and he didn’t have to be. When I was old enough, he gave me Raegnah.”
“Your spear is named Raegnah?”
“Dwarvish. Means ‘gatekeeper.’ No idea why it’s called that, that’s just what the old hermit who raised me told me.”
“It’s very beautiful,” Paige commented, tucking the leather scroll into her belt and cinching it tight. Robert nodded then eyed the scroll, finally looking back up at Paige.
“Don’t show that to anyone till I tell you to. Understand?”
Paige nodded.
“Good. Then we best be getting the packs pulled out and cinched up. There is a long journey ahead of us, and I, for one, am keen on being well-supplied for a trip of this magnitude.”
Paige spent the rest of the night packing with Robert. He was a skilled packer, managing to fit everything into each satchel perfectly as they set their gear next to the door. For several hours, Paige gathered arrows, bread, water-gourds, carved shafts for arrows, rain gear, and other long-term travel provisions they would doubtless need for the several-week trek they were about to embark on.
It was late into the night by the time Robert announced they had all they would need. Paige was exhausted and felt like she was going to pass out atop the two packs at any moment.
“Get some rest, princess,” Robert urged. “We’ll be able to sleep in a little in the morning, but we can’t hibernate all day. I’ll be outside under the rowan tree if you need me,” Robert announced, grabbing a thick wool blanket off the pile they had accumulated.
“Are you sure you don’t want to spend the night in your own bed? Might not see it for a while.”
“You need your rest far more than I. Besides, someone has to stay on the lookout, just in case any other unannounced visitors crash some more of my booby traps.”
“You left the pot out on purpose?”
“I should have figured that little oaf wouldn’t be able to navigate his own two feet, let alone my yard.”
Paige nodded, a slight smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. Robert chortled under his breath before picking up his pack and hefting it onto his back and grabbing his spear. As he turned to go, Paige called after him one last time.
“Do you think we have a chance?”
Robert paused for a moment, then nodded.
“Rest easy. We’ll find your sister, but that’s tomorrow’s problem for tomorrow’s Paige.”
And with that, he left her alone in the hut to turn in for the night. Paige took a last minute check through her things, then slipped into the hanging cot under the rabbit fur quilt. The last thing she heard was the popping of the fire as she lulled herself into a deep, exhausted sleep.
Chapter 5
the willow time forgot
"A cob, princess?”
Paige nodded as Robert handed her a piece of charred corn. The husk wore dancing red lines where the singed corn had been sitting on the hot stone. She quickly shucked the singed ear, the purple kernels glistening and steaming in the chilly morning air. He offered her a tiny bowl of goat butter which she spread onto the glistening bluish cob with a finger, biting into the sweet vegetable that was as juicy as a peach.
“And some fry bread?” Robert shoved some crispy, yellow flat-cakes smothered in dark marmalade at her, almost dropping them onto her sleeveless jerkin.
“Is that brambleberry jam?”
“Enjoy it whi
le you can. Won’t be much but biscuits and wild game once we get on the trails, let alone jam.” Paige took a crunchy bite out of the fry bread and the sweet flavors of wild brambleberries cascaded across her palette.
“Oh, goodness! I could grow to miss that from the comforts of my own cottage.” She laughed. “You’ve quite the culinary skills, it would seem!”
“Heavens, no, I trade for all my sweets. I’m not bad with a spatula, but I’m not an artist when it comes to preserves, like old lady Winterwrapp off by Nobbs creek across the valley.”
“Do you have many neighbors this far into the Wild?”
“Not really. She’s the only one who lives within ten miles of this place.” Robert scarfed the rest of his fry bread and wiped the crumbs off his bare chin. “It’s about a day’s journey on foot to the closest village. I only make it to market once a moon or so.”
“Which village is that?”
“Davadish, almost straight south.”
“There were traders in the Market at Kapernaum from Davadish, but I’ve no idea how far from home they were.”
“From here, Kapernaum is…er, was about fifty miles northwest of us. We’ll have another fifteen miles to go farther south today and then we’ll keep pressing east from there.”
“Just how far is it to Aschin from here?”
“I haven't a map, but we’ll ask the others tonight.”
“Best guess?”
“If we cut north just a wee bit and then get through the Dalestrom Meadows and cross the Kaela at a ford up that way, we may be able to make it in three weeks, assuming the snow doesn’t set in early this year.”
“Three weeks!?” Paige had never traveled that far and that long; she wasn’t sure her legs would make it three weeks hiking up and down switchbacks.
“Aye, but it will be much better than trying to go south. The Raychel Ridge lies to the south and not many men have ever made it through the mountains in summer let alone right before winter. But like I said, the others will have a better idea once we get there.”
They finished their breakfast in relative silence before rinsing off their dishes and putting them away in the cupboard. Paige felt a great debt of gratitude towards Robert as they finished tidying up the tiny cottage. It was a lovely home, and he was willing to give it all up to help a near perfect stranger. She thought that type of kindness and honor only appeared in the books she would sneak down and read in her papa’s study as a little girl.
“Well, unless you can think of something I missed, I believe we are finally ready!” Robert exclaimed, hoisting his pack onto his back. He winced under the load. “It’s been a while since the last time I trekked out there. Might have over-packed just a little bit.”
“I’m sure we’ll both be pitching some non-necessities as we go,” Paige grunted, heaving her own pack onto her small back.
“Aye, I know we will,” Robert muttered as he trudged out the front door with Paige close behind him. The morning sunlight struck the dew and frost on the ground, scattering light like a cut diamond. She let the brisk breeze prickle her lungs as she sucked in the fresh air, her heartbeat quickening. For the first time that week, Paige had hope.
Robert took a rusty iron key out of his mantle and locked the door of his home.
“Best enjoy the sunshine while you can,” he said, pulling a small sack from his belt. “Further east you go, the gloomier the mountains get this time of year.”
He opened the little pouch and proceeded to pour out a small pile of whitish powder onto his palm. It looked like the crushed eggshells Olivian used to use to powder her nose, but rather than apply it cosmetically, Robert tossed it at the threshold of his hut and stepped back in a hurry. No sooner had the substance hit the dirt when the sod began to bubble like a boiling stew. It slowly rose up into a wall, and before Paige had time to blink, the grassy slope of the hillside had swallowed the door. She stuttered at Robert, trying to ask for an explanation. His smile broadened.
“Fairy dust. Won it from a leprechaun in a card duel last week,” he bragged.
“What is a—”
“So many questions!” Robert cut her off as he headed for the east slope of the valley.
“But—”
“Spread them out! We have a long way to go!”
They reached the top of the valley within a half hour and immediately headed northeast into the thick, dense vegetation of the Wild. Paige had never been this far east, and although there was frost on the ground, the ferns and brambles still stood tall, green, and heavy along the forest floor. The brightly colored canopy above let in the yellow rays of sunlight like a stained glass window. The beams of light reached past the blindingly red maple leaves and stretched to the forest floor like tendrils of life to the little green plants.
They waded through the dewy leaves for several hours. Paige felt her toes turn pruney as the wet plants soaked her moccasins. The small pot and canteen Robert had strapped to his pack clanged and clunked against the heavy spear lashed to his back. He slashed at the foliage with a short machete, muttering under his breath at the mosquitos tormenting his uncovered ears. Paige trudged behind him, trying to ignore the sticky, sucking sound in her moccasins. She tripped over the uneven ground and her ponytail often caught in the branches of thorns and evergreens. In spite of the the harsh terrain, he showed no sign of stopping.
“If you and your friends knew about Kapernaum, why have I never seen any of you there?” she called.
“I’ve lived here my whole life,” Robert answered, hacking at a low hanging branch. “Most of the boys are from all across Eirensgarth. We knew about Kapernaum, but the Mystics thought it better not to put a target on their backs by meddling in the affairs of men.”
“Mystics? Like magicians?”
“Hah, not quite. Mystics are just what the magical races call themselves to differentiate themselves from men; elves, dwarves, and the like.”
“So am I a mystic then?”
“Well, technically, you’re only half mystic. That would make you a ‘Geartha.’”
“Sounds like ghearrta,” Paige noted. “It means—”
“Cut,” Robert finished for her. “That’s because it is. Geartha is the western Elvish dialect for ghearrta.”
“Why use that term?”
“It’s in reference to the bloodlines,” Robert said, hacking another branch out of the way as they jumped down into an old, dry creek bed. He reached up, offering Paige a hand to hold as she hopped down into the gully.
“The bloodlines of the races?” she asked.
“In a way.” He ducked under a dead log. “How much do you know about magic?”
“Not a ton. Mother was pretty secretive about her healing poultices and remedies. She promised to teach us one day, but…” Her breath caught in her throat. Oh, Mother. So many things they could never do together now. “That never happened.”
“Well, she was right to keep that under wraps. Most men can’t use magic anymore, and so all too often they get it in their head that if they can capture one who can, they can use that to some sort of advantage. Understand?”
“I could see that.”
“A few thousand years ago, many people across the races could perform natural magic. As the humans and Mystics settled this world, some began to study the natural magic to figure out why some could and others couldn’t. They finally linked it to several specific bloodlines tracing back generations. Some races, like the elves, decided for the good of their people, they would selectively breed those bloodlines to maximize the number of people who could use magic. It only took three or four generations to disperse the genealogy that way, so now it is very rare to come across an elf who can’t use natural magic in some form or fashion.”
“So the human kingdoms just let it die out?”
“Humans tend to think on an individual basis, not about the collective as a whole,” Robert countered. “So as I heard it, human magicians and wizards became more sporadic when they tried and failed on mul
tiple levels to do the same thing.”
“You said there were other Mystic races too?”
“Yes, there are western and eastern elves, and all the small elvish cousins like the pixies and the sprites. Then there are the dwarves and the Fae.”
“Now you’re just making up words.”
“Hardly. Faes used to outnumber men, elves, and dwarves combined, but now they stay in their own territories. They were pretty much driven out of the Wild, so the people who live here now think they are mere myths and legends. Tell me, princess, have you ever seen a satyre?”