The Northern Approach (18 page)

“Then let him,” Raeln snapped, more harshly than intended. “He’s lost his wife. He gets all the time he needs and wants. We’re going nowhere until he’s ready to move on.”

On’esquin regarded Raeln coolly and then bowed his head in acceptance. “This is your choice, not mine. Let me know when we will travel. Be aware, though, that this man’s grieving will not bring you any closer to those you’ve lost.”

Turning before Raeln could reply, On’esquin went back to the campfire and sat with his back to the others. He picked a piece of meat from the animal roasting there and held it in his large hands, as if he could not decide if he actually wanted to eat it.

Looking back at the others, Raeln saw Yoska now knelt over Feanne’s remains, holding a hand over her forehead as Estin stared at the man with a distant look in his eyes. Yoska was saying something, but before Raeln could limp over, he finished and touched the woman’s neck reverently with his open hand and sat back.

“What was that? Some kind of funeral rite?” Raeln asked, wincing as he sat with them.

“Of a sort, yes,” Yoska replied, reaching out to squeeze Estin’s wrist reassuringly. “My people do not believe their dead ever truly leave us behind. So long as family and descendants still live, the ancestors are with them, guiding their path and teaching the next generation. Is small comfort in times like these, but knowing that she watches us is something to help, yes? I can think of no better person to watch my back than this woman. Even the Turessians will think twice before crossing her spirit.”

Estin nodded grimly and Raeln noticed he had dug his claws into the palms of his hands, causing blood to drip down over his legs and the ground. Raeln knew that feeling all too well. He was trying to use pain to snap himself out of a grief that threatened to consume him. From Raeln’s experience, it would not help.

Looking past Estin, Raeln spotted a pair of gleaming eyes farther down the hillside watching their party accusingly from the darker shade of the trees there.

Raeln almost wished whatever was out there would attack. Then he would have a way to punish something for all the pain he had witnessed in himself and others. Whatever was out there following them would die if it came close enough.

“Saying Good-bye”

Darkness will embrace one to bring them together in those early days, while animals walk among them. The path will be unclear and broken. Anger will guide their direction and set their fates into stone.

Nothing can fill the void that loss creates. Know this, betrayer, and you will know what your companions feel. You will know that loss in time.

-
         
Excerpt from the lost prophecies of Turess

A week had passed before the last of the mists disappeared from the horizon, having turned farther east and drifting away through the mountains. Seeing the valley below free of threats had spurred a fresh enthusiasm in On’esquin, though it had done little to change the others.

Raeln’s leg was entirely crippled and there was some fear he might lose his foot if circulation continued to worsen, though he had mostly ignored the warnings from Yoska. He had argued with On’esquin on and off for days about the pointlessness of them attempting to bring him along, but neither On’esquin nor Yoska were willing to even discuss the idea of leaving him behind. Instead, Yoska had fashioned a crutch for him from some of the dead trees in the area, giving him at least a little more mobility, though Raeln knew it would not get him across the mountains. More importantly to him, he was a warrior who could no longer walk. There were few uses for someone like him.

On’esquin was doing only slightly better than Raeln. His wounds on his arm had become badly infected. The man was delirious with fever half the time and weakening with each day. The first few days he had been unable to eat, saying vaguely he had seen no need for centuries, but in his current condition, it soon became all too apparent he had no choice. Once he began eating and drinking, he had recovered somewhat, but the infection kept him from gaining much of his strength. When he allowed anyone to see his arm, they saw the deep puss-filled swelling that covered much of it.

Yoska had spent much of the time in silence, watching Estin and caring for him when he seemed unable to care for himself. He had even helped Estin set up a funeral pyre, atop which Feanne’s remains still lay days later, covered by stones to keep animals away. More than once, Raeln had seen Estin near the pyre, whispering softly to the stones as though he were having a conversation with someone only he could see.

For his part, Estin continued to get worse with each day. After returning to the camp with Raeln, he had said nothing and barely acknowledged anyone around him. He spent most of each day standing beside the unlit pyre, seemingly waiting for a miracle that would not come. If Yoska had not taken to practically forcing him to eat and drink, Raeln felt certain Estin would have stood by that pyre until he died. It was a reaction Raeln understood all too well, but he could not stand to see it in someone else.

Each night Raeln had watched the woods for signs of the creature that had followed them. Sometimes he would see nothing out there in the dark, but most nights those same gleaming eyes watched them from the trees, always gone before anyone could investigate. It was chilling, knowing something had the determination to stalk them for so long. He had stopped bringing it to the attention of the others, and he sat alone a short distance out in the dark, hoping it would come for him. If it did, either it would die or Raeln would not have to worry about anything anymore.

“We need to go soon,” said On’esquin, surprising Raeln. The man had snuck up on him while he was watching the trees. “The Turessian army continues to strengthen their grip the longer we take to get to Dorralt. One death cannot stop us here.”

“One death drags down other lives with it,” Raeln replied without taking his eyes off the trees. There was something moving out there, he was sure of it. “None of us are in any shape to travel. We will wait.”

“Raeln, do you honestly think we will get any better waiting here?”

Raeln sighed and looked around at their meager camp. The small pile of animal and fish bones had grown larger with each day they delayed, and their campfire had the look of having been surrounded by a larger group than theirs after so long. Nodding, he silently agreed with On’esquin, even if he had no desire to try to walk.

Looking down the hill to the woods, he saw the moving shape in the trees was gone.

Giving up on his watch, Raeln steadied himself on his crutch and made the slow trip around the edge of the lake to where Estin stood by the pyre. Normally Yoska would have been at his side, talking to him more or less endlessly, but the older human was out hunting supplies in the woods. Not that Estin seemed to notice as he stared with wet eyes at the stones in front of him.

Raeln approached slowly, coming up beside Estin to join him at the pyre stones. Dry pieces of wood poked out beneath the top layer of stones where they had been placed as a bed for the woman’s body. After so long, Raeln could hardly stand being so close to the pyre—the stench had grown so strong. He bit back his reflex to gag out of respect for the survivor beside him, though he had to swat away flies that had swarmed around the area.

“You know it’s time, Estin,” he said after a minute, looking over at Estin. The man nodded vaguely, but might not have understood at all. “We need to go on. I’m willing to bet this is not what she would have wanted of you.”

“I know. I can’t do it, though,” whispered Estin, his voice almost inaudible. “If my children were here, I could force myself for their sake. It’s too hard, Raeln…”

It was then Raeln noticed the necklace Estin was wearing. The item was new, fashioned from lacing pulled from his sleeves. The necklace had been knotted around two claws that Raeln could easily recognize as Feanne’s—deadly sharp and appearing to be those of a lion, not a fox—with tufts of her bright-red fur fastened between. It looked like the start of one of the tribal necklaces Greth had once shown him, and he idly wondered whether those had also been made from lost loved ones, whereas he had originally thought them to be the bones of enemies. Keeping such mementos seemed barbaric, but Raeln was starting to understand it was a way of holding both memory and a piece of those who were missed close. He could not fault anyone for that.

Raeln dug around in his pouch until he found the flint and steel he had borrowed from Yoska the night before to light their campfire. Holding them in the palm of his hand, he offered both to Estin. “You should be the one to do this,” he noted, but Estin merely nodded again. He really was not hearing Raeln at all. “Estin…please. Do this for her. She would not want to be left to rot.”

The man stared blankly at the pyre, seemingly unaware of Raeln’s presence.

Taking Estin’s hand, Raeln pressed the flint and steel onto the large central pad of Estin’s hand, where a deep scar ran. He closed the man’s fingers over the tools, hoping physical contact with them might get through to him. Instead, Estin looked down at his hand in confusion and let the two small items fall to the ground at his feet.

“This is enough,” Raeln said, picking up the tools and stepping closer to the pyre. “Estin, we both know this has to be done. I don’t even know her and I know she deserves better than this.”

Tears rolled down Estin’s face again, but he stared past Raeln.

“I’m sorry,” offered Raeln one last time and turned to the pyre. “If you can’t do it, I will.”

When the pyre had been built, handfuls of dry pine needles and grass had been stuffed into many of the gaps, touching the already-dry wood. The intent had been to make it easier to light it ablaze, but after days without rain, the wood was dry enough he likely did not need the kindling. Raeln tapped the stone and metal together, keeping them well away from the wood. As he had hoped, after the second tap, Estin grabbed his wrist and stopped him.

“I need to do this,” Estin said, taking the flint and steel.

Backing away, Raeln waited as Estin held the items, staring at them as though they were something he had never seen before. Just when Raeln thought he might drop them again, Estin reached out and struck them over the kindling, almost immediately sparking a fire that quickly spread through the kindling and across the wood, raising a cloud of dark smoke that spread through the stones.

The steady crackle of the flames spreading was quickly overtaken by a throaty wail as Estin raised his face to the sky. The man’s mourning cry was eerie, sending chills down Raeln’s spine.

“Let it go, Estin,” Raeln whispered, stepping alongside him to give Estin a reminder that there was someone else there who understood. As he did, Estin let his cry end and began growling, trying to warn Raeln off. “I understand. I really do. If you want to hurt me, I’ll let you do it. I don’t think that’s really what you want, though.”

After a moment, Estin collapsed in front of the blazing pyre, weeping. With the help of his crutch, Raeln knelt beside Estin and wrapped his arms around him from the side. Estin flinched at first, baring his fangs, but then relaxed and accepted the kindness.

“I couldn’t save her,” Estin murmured, lowering his face to rest his cheek on Raeln’s arm. “I should’ve been stronger…faster…”

“I know, Estin. I know. We all blame ourselves. Sooner or later, we’re all left wondering what we could have done differently.”

Slowly, Estin composed himself and straightened up, taking a shuddering breath as he patted Raeln’s arm. He gazed sadly toward the column of smoke and flame and then squeezed the necklace he wore with his other hand. “I’m fine now,” he lied, though Raeln could tell Estin was legitimately trying to control his anger and sadness. It would return soon enough, given any provocation.

Raeln eased his grip and leaned back, half-expecting Estin to run away. Instead, Estin turned around and grabbed Raeln in a surprisingly strong hug, though the man’s arms barely could meet behind Raeln’s back.

“Thank you,” Estin said and pulled away, got up, and walked toward where On’esquin and the campfire waited.

Raeln watched Estin go and noticed Yoska off to one side of the plateau, watching from the shadows of a tree. The gypsy nodded grimly at Raeln before heading to join Estin. How long he had been watching, Raeln could not guess.

Despite wanting to join the others, Raeln waited by the pyre, watching the flames rise. He had gone out of his way to avoid looking at the flames that consumed Greth, afraid he would never have been able to stop crying and certainly never would have been able to force himself to leave. He had walked away the same way Estin had.

Now, seeing the same thing happening to the loved one of another, he came to grip with what he had lost. He would never fully accept the pain and the misery, but knew it gave him purpose and strength of a different kind. Like he had promised himself before in anger, he once again pledged he would find the Turessians’ leader and tear the man apart, if not for himself or Greth, then for Estin and his wife.

There would be no more tears. Raeln wanted blood. He would avenge the thousands that had been where he and Estin now were.

*

“Do you have everything?” Raeln asked the group as he leaned on his crutch early the next morning. “We aren’t coming back here.”

On’esquin nodded but looked as though he might fall over at any moment. His wounded arm hung limply in its sling, the skin around his bandages darkened almost to black. Raeln had come near him earlier at dawn and felt the heat of his fever a foot away. Without something, he would be dead within two or three days, judging by those Raeln had seen die in the past.

Beside On’esquin, Estin sat quietly, holding a bag they had patched together from small animal hides. In that bag were the ashes and some smaller bone fragments of his dead wife, which Estin had said he intended to bring to his children when he found them. That had been the extent of Estin’s ability to converse with the group, but Raeln took it as an improvement.

Unlike the others, Yoska seemed to be in genuinely good spirits…possibly a result of having drunk the remainder of their stockpile of alcohol. The man had made it sound like a noble sacrifice to minimize what they needed to carry, but Raeln got the impression he was truly thrilled to be moving on. From what Raeln knew of gypsies, they despised being stuck in one place too long, and Yoska clearly had been with them on the little plateau for too long.