by Philip Smith
The dwarf leapt up, his body held hostage by his own cloak. Blinded by his woolen prison, Broadside ran about like a drunken madman who’d just had his bottom lit on fire. He screeched in a tone so high-pitched that Paige wondered if an elk somewhere in the craggy mountains might mistake him for a female looking for a sweetheart. The dwarf face-planted into a large fir tree, dropping immediately on his backside, then flat on his back, lying still and whining like a wounded duck. Paige gasped, laughter clawing its way out of her using her ribcage as a ladder.
“Oh my moons,” Robert stammered, wiping tears from his eyes. “That is the most beautiful thing I’ve seen in my life!”
“That was somewhat mean-spirited, Dinendale,” remarked Jesnake.
Dinendale’s hand fingered the brooch Hanburg had given him. He looked down at it, and Paige felt an ache in her own chest as she followed his gaze.
“We needed to laugh,” he said.
Jesnake looked at him, puzzled, then nodded, slinging his bow on his back and tending to his things.
“I didn't!” came a gruff, muffled voice from under the cloak and dwarf pile lying in the dirt. “Could have found a way to get that laugh without scaring me half to bloody death.”
“We absolutely could have,” Robert snorted. A new chorus of laughter let out on all accounts as they began to break the camp.
In a short while, everyone stood readFy to embark. All the travel of the last few weeks made the events of stowing, strapping, and cinching their assorted gear to the wood packs an easy routine.
“Ugh! What the devil!?” Broadside shouted, tossing his helmet off his head and ruffling his hair. “My liner is sopped!”
Paige felt a giggle explode from her lips like a suprise sneeze. The others roared with another round of laughter as Duelmaster picked up the liner with two fingers, holding it at arms length.
“I meant to mention it, but it must have slipped my mind!” the dryad laughed, plopping the dwarf’s drool saturated cervelliere atop Broadside’s head before patting the little creatures rosey cheeks like a child.
They hiked the craggy pine forests with an eager haste. Every moment they delayed was one more moment Olivian didn't have to spare. If the soldiers returned to the Aschin stronghold and reported Paige’s confirmed existence, there was no way to know what might happen to the older princess.
The hills became steeper; the soreness burning in Paige’s upper thighs and calves was a testament. More and more Paige found herself dodging large, lichen-covered boulders that dotted the sloping hillside. The trees grew taller and thinner, the trunks reaching high up into the sky. Their branches grasped for the misty clouds looming overhead which occasionally drifting low enough to envelope the tops in a dense fog. The ground was covered in a century’s worth of pine needles that padded the sharp, rocky ground like a king’s fine carpet. Eventually the mist of early morning finally gave way to a bright filtering sunlight that streamed through the branches, reached through the mist, and gripped the earth as if for dear life.
“A two-piece for your thoughts, princess?”
Paige turned to see Woodcarver plodding beside her, his staff slung across his shoulders like an oxen’s yolk. He smiled a lopsided grin that didn’t show his teeth; his eyes crinkling in the corners and betraying his young face with the sparkle of a man who had seen a good many years on the earth.
“The mountain forests are so beautiful,” Paige said as she observed a great ponderosa basking in the pale yellow light. "Not at all like the forests I called home."
“It’s the fairies,” Woodcarver said, his eyes twinkling. “They help keep the mountains beautiful.”
“Fairies?” Paige laughed, her skepticism quite evident. “I'm sure they do!”
“You laugh?” he commented more than questioned, amusement tugging at the corners of his mouth.
“Oh,” she said, her laughter halting in the air. “You mean fairies exist?”
“Of course they exist.” Woodcarver sighed as if he’d explained this fact a million times. “They are the guardians of the seasons, endowed by the Creator to watch over the earth and keep it beautiful.”
“I’ve only ever heard children's stories about them,” Paige defended.
“You are a halfling. Your mother was a full-blooded elf. I know of Shauds that believe Elves and Dwarves are also just stories. Are you a story?”
“No,” Paige said. “But why don't we ever see them? The fairies I mean?”
“Because that’s all you are doing. Seeing,” Woodcarver said softly. "Maybe you’ve never been looking."
“Or maybe I’ve just never experienced what you have,” she countered.
The magician chuckled. “Truth is truth my dear, regardless of what you’ve experienced.”
The group trudged on and on, hour after hour. The day grew long and surprisingly hot as they wound their way around, up, and across the endless mountainside. They passed several small streams and waterfalls that allowed them to fill up their canteens and wineskins. At one point, a hare bolted out of a bush near Paige. She had her bow in hand and attempted to lose an arrow from her belt quiver at the creature. A sharp twang filled the clear mountain air, and one of Jesnake's swan fletched arrows struck the rabbit in its small head before her arrow had cleared her belt.
“You almost had that one, princess,” Jesnake encouraged. She glared at him. “I was almost too late on that shot.”
They continued the begrudging trek for several more hours. No one really felt like talking much, except for Duelmaster and Broadside, who never seemed to lack something to talk about. Paige half listened to them, but the bulk of her concentration was put on keeping a cadence in her head to keep up with the group.
“Got-ta get-there, got-ta get-there,” she whispered to herself, forcing her cramping legs to keep in step with her young companions.
By late afternoon, Paige could see the crest of the slope plateauing off in front of them as the woods began to thin out, breaking into a clearing. The sunlight dimmed as it began to set in the east, sending tendrils of bright golden light into Paige’s eyes as she trudged to where Woodcarver had halted. The magician beckoned urgently as he stood along the edge of the treeline waiting for the others to catch up.
"Please tell me were done," Broadside heaved. "Please, can we be done?"
"Not quite," Woodcarver muttered. "We have a bit more to go, Master Dwarf."
Paige felt her heart sink at the thought of more walking as she and the others cleared the treeline. Then her spirit sank even lower as an audible groan lifted up from the Brotherhood.
“Oh don’t get your knickers in a twist. It’s just Craymoghr Cliff,” the wizard scolded, gesturing before them to the steepest wall of rock Paige had ever seen. It was at least four hundred feet high, and had sharp crags and edges jutting out like the back of an agitated porcupine. It was so tall, one had no possible hope to see what lie behind it. The sheer size of the rock astounded the princess, stretching as far as her eyes could see in either direction, standing directly in her path.
“Well, this is an unexpected twist,” Robert spat tartly.
“Actually, there is no twist. It goes straight up,” Duelmaster joked.
Paige couldn't laugh. The sick lump in her throat wouldn't let her even think to chuckle.
“How in the name of all that is good and green in this world are we supposed to get up there?” queried Twostaves.
There was a long pause.
“We’ll, I suppose we’ll have to climb it,” Dinendale stated in a matter-of-fact tone.
“Mm-hmm,” Jesnake muttered, his tone drifting into the waters of sarcasm. “How?”
“There is one spot that has a small ledge that can be climbed to reach the top,” Woodcarver explained. “It zigzags up the cliff but it beats trying to go straight up that rock face with no ropes or gear designed for such a task.”
“As someone who is not okay with climbing any more often than I have to,” mumbled Twostaves, “I’m thinking
a road filled with Raven-heads would be better than this!”
“This is the shortest route to the east. The road to Aschin circles much farther north,” an exasperated Woodcarver sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose like he had a headache at the giant’s words. “No Raven Heads will follow us past that even if they’ve managed to get past the roadblock I threw up. They’d take one look at that wall and soil themselves."
“I think I might have soiled myself,” Broadside gulped.
“This is hardly my idea of a shortcut,” Robert said dryly.
“Can we even make it with the daylight we have left?” Jesnake asked. “I for one don't want to be on a cliff face when twilight hits.”
“We have five hours of daylight left, give or take,” Woodcarver said. “If we really want to get out of danger of being followed, I recommend doing it now.”
“It would put the hardest behind us,” Jesnake admitted.
Woodcarver chuckled mirthlessly. “Well, believe it or not, there is good news that comes with this situation.”
“What's that?” Broadside bemoaned.
“I can count on one hand how many mortals have actually climbed this cliff and lived.”
“And that's good?” Paige gasped.
Woodcarver’s sly smile spread across his face. “Aye. Because any Shauds trying to follow us will be in the exact same predicament.”
“And you’re sure we can climb this, magician?”
“I am. I’m one of the ones who climbed it and lived, and the Shaud’s have no such guide.”
◆◆◆
Paige grasped the sharp rocks with every ounce of her strength till her fingertips felt like they were on fire. True to his word, Woodcarver led them to the ledge he'd spoken of. Paige had decided that the group needed to have a meeting about vocabulary terms because the wizard’s idea of a “ledge” was only about six inches wide in some spots and no wider than two men’s feet. She gulped and looked up towards the cliff’s tip high above. The ledge angled a little to the right and rose gradually to the top. From there it immediately switched directions about a third of the way up and repeated the pattern till the top. As long as the group didn't lean back at all, they might make it. This required a balance that made carrying packs a rather difficult challenge, especially for Robert, Twostaves, and Broadside; their body frames didn’t exactly produce good balance to begin with.
Paige was behind Jesnake, who was behind Woodcarver. Dinendale followed her, and Robert came behind him. Broadside and Duelmaster came next, and Twostaves took the tail end. Despite his abundant apprehension, the giant had volunteered to take the rear in case his extra weight caused the ledge to break or crumble. They each had a partner connected to them by safety ropes; in the event one slipped, the partner could assist that person, but the whole group would not be in peril of falling. The thought of that possibility made Paige’s stomach churn. As ready as they would ever be, they began to climb, or rather scratch, along the thin ledge heading up. They took little steps, calling out to each other with tips on the best hand grips for the person behind them.
About an hour into their climb, one of Broadside’s canteens popped a strap when he rubbed too aggressively against the sharp stone wall in front of him. The little wooden barrel popped off and tumbled until it hit the rock face halfway down and splintered into a thousand pieces which rained down into the dirt.
The cliff seemed to have no end, the realization of which made Paige dizzy. Her toes hurt from digging into the rock’s face, and her fingertips were rubbed raw and bleeding in several spots. She glanced at Dinendale, careful not to look down.
“Hand hold four inches to your right,” she said, nodding her sweating brow to the hand hold she’d just used.
“Thanks,” the elf said, perspiration dripping off his face. Paige turned and took another step to her right, continuing up the rock face.
“Almost there!” Woodcarver heaved for them all to hear. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”
"Shut up and keep climbing, Mr. Mystical," Robert screamed.
“Relax, Eöl!” huffed Jesnake, taking another step.
Just then, the Western Elf’s foot slipped. The rock beneath his feet gave way, and he began to tumble backwards.
“Jesnake!” Broadside screamed. The elf fell into the abyss of air behind him.
Paige didn't even think about what she was doing. As soon as his foot slipped, she leapt to his side. The elf reeled backwards waving his arms and crying out for help. She barely caught hold of his left arm bracer, hooking her fingers into the cuff. But he was too heavy for her grasp. Jesnake’s weight pulled her of balance, and she slid like a horse cart with no hand brake.
“Paige!” Robert bellowed. She cried out as she grabbed for a hand hold and clutched a small jut in the face of the rock wall. Jesnake stopped short, Paige still holding to his bracer. The weight yanked hard against Paige’s joints. She screamed as she felt her shoulder dislocating. Jesnake hung there, at least three bowshots’ distance, if not four, from the ground far below.
“Hold on, Jesnake!” she strained through gritted teeth. She could feel her hands slipping and wasn't sure how long she could hold on. She looked down into the elf’s eyes, wide with fear. Then she saw the ground far below, and nearly fainted.
“Paige! Don’t move!” Dinendale cried. He whipped out his dirk and drove it into the rock face with all his might. It stuck fast in the craggy stone as he grabbed Paige’ arm with his free hand. She gripped his strong wrist, and he began to pull her and Jesnake up inch by inch.
“Jesnake! Grab hold!” Robert yelled as he held the end of his spear out to the elf. Jesnake quickly grabbed the shaft with his free hand, clutching to Paige’s wrist with the other.
“Okay! Robert, pull up on your side!” Dinendale called out, “Jesnake, release Paige and climb up the spear to grab hold of the ledge. Do you think you can do that?”
“Does it look like I’m planning on not doing that?” Jesnake yelled.
“Alright, on three! One!”
Paige felt Jesnake’s hand tighten on her wrist.
“Two!”
Paige took a quick breath and breathed a quick prayer.
“Three!”
Robert pulled on the spear with all his might. Paige let go of Jesnake and felt Dinendale grab her arm and haul her up to the ledge. Jesnake swung to the left from the swinging spear. Hand over hand, he pulled himself back up to the ledge.
“Is everyone alright?” Woodcarver called out.
“I think my lunch is plastered all over this rock face,” quivered Twostaves.
“That was too close,” Dinendale said. “Way too close.”
“Um, Dinendale?” Paige said.
“Yes?”
“You can let go now.”
Dinendale turned a shade of pink and released the princess. She smiled at his embarrassment.
“Beg pardon,” Dinendale looked away, turning even redder.
“Nice try,” Paige heard Robert scoff. Dinendale didn’t offer a reply to that jeer but Paige could see him bristle slightly. She rolled her eyes, trying to ignore the buffeting in her heart as they once again began inching their way to the left. Her steps were small and shaky, and it was all she could do to keep her hands from quivering under the rush of energy and fear that still thundered through her veins with every heartbeat.
The sky darkened to a deep magenta by the time they rounded the last switchback and began the final leg of the journey on the cliff face. The sun had long disappeared in the east by the time they had reached the top, it’s farewell painting to the world for the day cast in glorious pinks and oranges across the sky.
“Grab hold, Paige,” Woodcarver said as he extended his gloved hand to her. She reached for it and held tightly. He pulled her up with relative ease, and she collapsed at the edge of the cliff, thankful to be done. She lay with her head in her arms, breathing hard and trying to endure the cramping muscles and fear she still felt from their deadly fall. Then she fe
lt a hand on her shoulder.
“Look up, princess,” Woodcarver encouraged. She did, and what she saw made her catch her breath.
They had reached the top of a large plateau where the surrounding landscape was covered in pine forested highlands not unlike the ones they had just come from. The mountain ranges surrounded them from horizon to horizon, their snow capped peaks filling her vision and stealing her breath away. They looked like old, bearded men, staring down with wrinkled scowls as they seemed to dare anyone to traverse their white beards and creviced eyes. The sight was beautiful and terrible at the same time.
Paige sank to her knees and lay on her back looking up at the sky as the last rays of pink light faded away and the stars began to assemble one by one, as if waking from a deep sleep. Slowly the two moons rose from the west and began climbing high into the sky, weaving in and out in their slow dance across the heavens. She didn’t fall asleep but lay there in a tired daze for what seemed like hours.