“Wait here,” she ordered and then walked to the river’s edge where she knelt down and thrust her hand into the water. It was ice cold. Snowmelt.
The warmer weather that had helped to cheer her mood up on the ridge was the culprit of the obstacle before them. All the snow from the mountains’ lower elevations was melting and making its way to the ocean somewhere far beyond their line of sight. It made the river wide and fast, but could also cause a flash flood, which would be the end of them.
She returned to where Varan waited. Recognition—and fear?—flickered across his face as she walked up to him. Does he realize this is something he can’t get past without help?
“We can’t cross here,” she stated. “The water is too deep and moving too fast. I’m a strong swimmer and I wouldn’t risk getting into that current. We’ve got to find another way.”
He gestured weakly, as if unsure. “Go north. Find a forest and all will be revealed to you.”
“I get it! We’re trying to go north, but there’s a big river in our way.”
“We’ve got to go north.”
“Dammit, Varan! I need you to come back to me.” She let her emotions get the better of her as she grasped him by his shirt, shaking him wildly. If he’s going to lose it and attack me, this will be the time. But she didn’t care. She needed to get through to him.
Varan allowed her to shake him like a doll for a moment and then stiffened. “North. Go—”
Something inside of Freya snapped. She’d not been ready for the challenge of leading an invalid on a fool’s errand. There probably wasn’t even anything at this forest. It was too much for her. She released his shirt and slapped him across the face as hard as she could.
Her hand stung, but it felt good to release the tension. Varan had been a rock solid man only a few weeks before, until he slipped into depression and edged toward madness. She slapped him again. “Damn you, Varan. Snap out of this. I need your help.”
Her actions were wild and reckless. He could easily break her neck and then drown himself trying to go north, but she had to try. She had to reach him somehow. Her open hand balled into a fist and she grabbed his shirt with her opposite hand once more. “I’m warning you, Varan. You’re not going to like this. You need to come back to me.”
He didn’t respond, so she threw the punch, landing it squarely on his nose. Blood exploded from his nostrils, flowing over his lips and then dripping off his chin onto his chest. She pulled her arm back for another punch, relishing the feel of adrenaline that letting her frustrations out gave her.
“Don’t,” his voice rumbled from deep inside of his chest.
Too late, her arm carried forward and smashed into his ear.
“Don’t punch me again,” he warned, leaning his head to the side and pressing his battered ear against his shoulder. “I— I know that I’ve been crazy. I just…”
Freya released his shirt and took a step back from him. “Look, I get it. You were forced to kill your brother—and that’s a disgusting tragedy that never should have happened—but you led us out here. You promised me freedom and a better life if we escaped, and we did. We killed Cooper and Mark, making sure that we could never go back and that we’d have a bounty on our heads.”
“I know.”
“This is your fault. I wasn’t happy being a sex slave, but I sure as hell wasn’t out wandering around in the wilderness on the verge of death. You’ve got to snap out of this.”
“I’m— I’m sorry.”
“Sorry doesn’t cut it, Varan,” she seethed. “You can take your apology and shove it up your ass. I need you to get well and help me. I can’t carry you across this river; we’ll both die. I need you to make decisions and think for yourself. We’ve got to find a bridge or steal a boat, or maybe even build a raft. All of those things require you to be coherent and operating under your own power.”
She watched him puzzle through her words as the blood continued to ooze across his face. Whether it made her seem callous or not, the man needed to hear the truth. They would die on that river if he continued to stumble along without helping her. She let him think for a moment before dropping the final weight upon him. “Your brother is dead. There’s nothing you can do about it; but you’re not honoring his memory by acting like an imbecile.”
“You’re right,” Varan sighed.
Freya allowed herself to soften. The man had meant so much to her mere weeks ago. Her feelings for him hadn’t completely gone away. He was kind, polite and intelligent. She placed her hand on his cheek. “Varan, your mind is struggling to come to terms with what the Guild made you do. You’ll probably have a hard time for months or years to come, but I need you to put those thoughts aside for right now. They could still be chasing us and the river is a major obstacle. If we can get across it, then we should be safer.”
His lower lip trembled for a moment and Freya wondered if he would cry before it passed. “Okay,” he said. “I’ll try to put those thoughts aside.” Varan paused and stared at the river before mumbling, “Let’s get this over with.”
Her hand lingered on his cheek for a second longer before she allowed it to drop and then she began walking upstream. “The farther downstream we go, the more water there’s likely to be, so we’re going to go toward the mountains. The closer to the source we get, the less water runoff there should be.”
“It’s okay. I trust you,” he muttered.
They walked for an hour along the riverbank without finding anything useful. She wanted to put the barrier of the river between them and anyone who may be following, but it was almost full dark and it would be much too dangerous to attempt a crossing as they bumbled around in the night.
They made camp a few hundred feet away from the river. The wood in the area was too damp to burn so they rolled out the threadbare blankets that Varan had stolen and settled in for a long, cold night. Freya rolled onto her side away from Varan and closed her eyes.
The sweat from the day’s journey chilled against her skin and Freya began to shiver. She wished for a fire to warm her, but it wasn’t possible, so she’d just have to deal with it and hope she didn’t get sick.
There was a rustling behind her and she felt Varan press up close against her. Warmth spread all along her back where his body touched hers.
“Varan, I… I can’t be with you right now. I’m not sure how I feel about things.”
He nodded into her hair. “I understand. My mind was gone for a while and you had to care for me like a child. Thank you for not leaving me. I’m not sure if I said that.”
“The past is the past,” she managed to say. “Just promise me that you’ll stay away from that dark place.”
He mumbled something that she couldn’t understand, so she ignored it. “And promise that you’ll stay next to me tonight, please,” she said. “You’re so warm.”
He wrapped his arm around her and pressed his body closer. The journey’s exhaustion overcame her and the hope that maybe the old Varan had returned filled her with relief. She fell asleep and slept peacefully for the first time since they’d left Trinity on the way to the last Contest.
*****
Birds whistled in the early morning light, waking Varan from his slumber. He slowly became aware of his hand under Freya’s shirt, cupping her soft breast. The slight firmness of her nipple rested against his forefinger. He felt himself stirring, his body longing for the enjoyment that he hadn’t experienced since they left the office after the Contest.
He resisted the urge to caress her skin, to feel the press of her nude body against him. It wasn’t the right time. He’d just returned from a very bad place in his mind and needed to earn Freya’s trust once again. He reluctantly released her breast, sliding his hand down to her waist and shaking gently.
“Wake up, Freya. It’s morning.”
“I know,” she murmured. “I’m awake. I was just…enjoying the peacefulness of the morning.”
They continued to lay with each other for a moment in
silence before starting their search for a crossing. Varan wished for some of the meat in their packs, but the cold, uncooked meat would only get them sick, so they settled for a quick breakfast of raw tomatoes and a few gulps of water.
“Ready?” Freya asked once they’d put away their meager bedding.
“Yeah. Hey, listen, thank you for…for everything.”
“Let’s just keep it in the past and move forward. It’s going to take both of us working together to get across that river.”
They searched for several hours without finding an intact bridge or boat. Crossing the river began to seem like a more daunting task than they’d thought. Worse, they didn’t possess any tools that they could use to cut down trees for a raft, let alone any rope to keep them together. The irrational desire to go north continued to pound into Varan’s brain and the river blocked the way.
Midday came and went as their search stretched late into the afternoon. They were beginning to think about finding somewhere dry to sleep when Freya gave out a cry of alarm.
“Up ahead! It looks like someone’s built a bridge.”
Varan squinted to see what she did, but her eyesight was obviously better than his because he couldn’t tell what she was talking about and said so.
“You don’t see the concrete beams sticking out of the water right there?” she asked, pointing.
He followed her finger and then made out the gray pillars. They’d blended in with the river and the debris surrounding them completed their camouflage.
“It’s just a bunch of river junk, not a bridge.”
“No, all that stuff is up against the bridge and hasn’t moved,” she countered. “Come on.”
As they got closer, two old bridge supports began to take shape. Three concrete pillars stood as evidence that at one time, a large bridge had stretched from bank to bank. Twisted metal reinforcing bars jutted from the top of each, giving the appearance of wild hairs sprouting from the concrete. Darkened stains on the supports told the story of what likely happened.
“Someone used explosives to blow up the bridge,” he stated.
“What are explosives?”
He recalled the stories that his grandfather used to tell around the campfire about the days before the end of the old society. “They’re a weapon from the old world. They could break concrete and allow attackers to go into places defenders thought secure—or bring down a bridge.”
“Wow,” Freya replied, wide eyed. “No wonder they almost killed everyone.”
Varan shrugged. The weapon made perfect sense to him; without them armies would spend weeks or even months trying to breach a defender’s fortifications. “I wonder why they used it to destroy the bridge.”
“Isolation,” she answered instantly. “Someone on this side—or that one—didn’t want to be around others.”
His mind took her idea and went in a different direction. “Or to keep someone away.”
“True,” she acknowledged. “But someone has built it back, see?”
Sure enough, trunks from several of the region’s tall trees were placed upstream of the pillars and the current pressed them against the concrete, creating a floating footbridge of sorts. The trees also created a barrier for the detritus floating down the river in the snowmelt runoff. The debris field stretched upriver for a long ways; every so often, the current pushed some of it over the footbridge, causing the flotsam they’d seen downstream.
“You think that’s safe to cross?” he asked, eyeing the structure questioningly.
“If someone took the time to make it, they must have intended to use it,” Freya replied. “We haven’t seen any boats or anything that we could make a raft out of—and we’ve been on this riverbank for almost twenty-four hours. We’ve gotta make it across this river to keep going north, so I say we go for it.”
Dammit! he screamed at himself. What if I fall in the water? I’ll drown, that’s what. Why isn’t there an intact bridge anywhere on this stupid river? Of course the people who’d destroyed the bridge wouldn’t want a permanent structure. If there was trouble, they only had to cut away those tree trunks and they’d float down the river.
They had to go north to honor his brother’s wishes. It was the last thing that Caleb wanted him to do. They had to get across the river and it didn’t look like they were going to find any other options. ”Okay,” he sighed resignedly. “Let’s do it.”
Freya led the way to the logs and tentatively tested their buoyancy with one foot. “It looks safe enough,” she stated. “If you fall in, don’t panic. Keep your head above water and let the current take you. Try to angle toward whichever river bank that you’re closer to and eventually, you’ll be able to get out.”
She stepped back onto the shore and went through a few moments of rapid instruction about how he could keep his head above the surface and how to swim. It took a lot of arm and leg movement and he was plenty strong enough, so in theory, it shouldn’t be difficult if he accidentally fell in.
Varan had gotten everything he could out of her explanation. “Alright, I’m as ready as I’m going to be without a few days practice at swimming. Let’s just get this over with.”
Freya gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. “Good luck,” she said and turned back to the logs.
He watched her step carefully along the floating bridge, arms held out wide to her sides for stabilization. Freya’s feet splayed outwards at an angle to help her establish a wide base on the narrow platform and Varan made a note that he needed to do that as well. He’d practiced balance exercises for fighting his entire life, but there’d always been solid ground underneath him if he fell. This was something different.
When she made it to the first concrete pillar, Freya wrapped her arms around it and bent her legs a few times to stretch out the muscles. Presumably, the rocking of the log and the natural tendency of round wood to spin when it floated was giving her legs a workout. After a moment, she released the pillar and walked to the next.
It wasn’t long before she stood on the far shore, waving for him to come over. It was time. I was the Primus of the House of Miller. I am the champion of the Contest. I can walk across a damned log. Varan stepped onto the bridge determinedly.
He wasn’t prepared for the way the log sank under his weight and then bobbed back up as the far end sank back into the water. It almost caused him to fall into the icy water before he’d even begun the journey. He recovered, repeating the mantra of his accomplishments to himself as he spread his arms wide for balance like Freya had done. He took a tentative step forward, sliding his foot along the log until he planted it and slid his trail leg up next to that one.
The current of the river was strong, pushing against the log and threatening to sweep it out from under his feet. But, he continued forward, inch by inch until he was able to wrap his arms around the old bridge’s support pillar. He looked over to Freya and she rewarded him with a smile.
Two more pillars to go and then it’s the shore. Varan edged away from the pillar and continued onward. His pace slowed to a crawl as the stronger current in the middle of the river threatened to knock him loose. The log underneath his feet was much wetter than the first one had been as the current forced debris over the top of the bridge.
His balance started to leave him and he waved his arms in an effort to regain it. Somehow, his rear end forced its way outward over the water and he bent at the waist to compensate with his upper body. After a moment, he was able to right himself and quickly covered the last several feet to the middle column.
Varan smiled in relief, looking up to see Freya’s reaction, but she wasn’t watching him. She stared into the tree line behind her. He tried uselessly to see what she could see; it was no use. Not anything good, I’ll bet.
He pushed off the concrete and stepped away, traveling only three steps before Freya screamed. Varan looked up from the log below him and had a moment to register several men running from the trees before he fell.
Icy water filled his nose
and lungs. He sputtered, coughing out the fluid as he flapped his arms like a bird to get his head above the surface. Everything passed by quickly as the current carried him away from Freya. As he swept by, he caught a glimpse of the men he’d seen before he fell. They surrounded Freya and there was nothing he could do to help her.
*****
Garrett Traxx poured over the map on the table in front of him. The gods-damned Vultures had attacked a small hamlet to the south two days ago, killing everyone except for one scared teenage girl. They’d sent her to Homelake as a means of psychological terror, letting the people know what waited for them.
When she arrived this morning, bruised and bloodied from her ordeal, the guards had dismissed her as a crazy person. Thankfully, Nicholas heard the commotion from his office and decided to investigate. Upon hearing her tale, he immediately dispatched a squad on horseback to determine the validity of her claims.
The girl claimed to have been in the field with her brother, spreading manure that they’d saved during the winter for use as fertilizer. The men, more beast than human if her memory of them was to be believed, attacked her hamlet just after lunch. They took the villagers by surprise. She said that her family was unable to defend themselves against the horde of men wearing the skins of dead animals. They butchered the farmers in the fields, and then went house to house slaughtering everyone they found.
The attackers beat her unconscious with a club. When she woke, they’d tied her to the hamlet’s windmill. She said she witnessed the wild men cutting chunks of meat off the dead and grilling them. When they’d eaten their fill, a man came to her and told her that she’d been spared so she could take a message to the Traxx: The Vultures knew where they’d hidden and they were coming.
The riders Nicholas dispatched returned only an hour ago; confirming that the village had been wiped out. After the confirmation, the captain brought the girl to see Garrett. Her story sent chills down his spine as the Seers’ prophecy began to unfold as they said it would.
The king ordered a mobilization of the militia and called in all of the workers in the field. After ensuring the girl was taken care of, Garrett called Nicholas into his office so they could examine the map to determine what their best course of action would be and how to deal with this new threat.
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