The Rowan and Amethyst Chronicles

“But why can’t we walk on the road? I mean, isn’t that what it’s for?” Syra asked as they passed the roasted dove back and forth for their breakfast the next morning. Her hair which had been so elegantly wavy when Zar had first laid eyes on her was now a knotted mess. Her eyes were puffy from so much crying the previous day and her borrowed clothes were soiled with dust from their walk. She looked as though she hadn’t slept much. Zar had heard her rustling around all night trying to get comfortable. Apparently noble ladies were unused to sleeping on the hard ground.

Zar glared at her. She wouldn’t have been asking that if she had seen what had happened to her caravan the previous day. Maybe she should have forced the girl to look at the grisly sight as a lesson to her.

“It isn’t safe. There are raiders and worse that patrol that road,” she said, trying to keep her patience. All she had to do was get this girl to Seletre, do this one good hearted deed, then she would be on her way to the nearest appraiser to have that pretty ring turned into a whole bunch of silver. The one good thing about going out of her way to Seletre was that it was a popular spot for trading, and so there was bound to be at least one certified appraisers there. She might even split her winnings, pay off her 500 silver debt to the Robber’s Roost, then keep the other 500 a secret for her own uses. She could easily buy a horse with that much silver, and one for Mugi and Aldrich as well. They would have warm blankets for their beds, hot meals, they could stay at inns all the way to the winter camp.

“But wouldn’t it be faster and easier to walk the road?” Syra insisted, breaking in on Zar’s happy reverie.

“Look if you want to walk on the nice easy road, go for it. I won’t be joining you,” Zar said, standing up and cleaning her greasy hands in the creek.

She packed up her bag and then examined Syra, who was looking pouty but resigned. “You coming?” she asked and Syra nodded.

They set off at a reasonable pace. The land was continuing to slope downhill and more creeks and streams had begun to appear. There was a particularly wide stream that they were forced to cross at one point. Zar removed her moccasins and waded across confidently but Syra dithered for some time before finally making her very slow way across.

They lunched on a hillock under a grove of fir trees. Zar climbed one to get a vantage while Syra collapsed with exhaustion against the trunk. Zar couldn’t quite make out Seletre from where they were positioned, but she thought she saw smoke in the distance where she suspected it lay. When she returned to the ground, Syra had removed her shoes and was gazing with horror at the blisters on her feet.

“Let me see those,” Zar said, coming over and examining them.

“Ouch!” Syra moaned as Zar prodded one.

“These shoes are absolutely terrible,” Zar exclaimed, picking up one of the girl’s embroidered boots. “You need moccasins for this sort of journey. I’ll get you some herbs tonight to help your feet heal.”

“Aren’t we going to be in Seletre tonight?” Syra inquired hopefully as the pulled her bloody socks back over her blistered feet.

“It’s too far. We aren’t moving very fast and with the state your feet are in, we aren’t likely to be picking up the pace.”

Syra sighed but nodded. They continued on. Aware that their food supply was running low now that she had another mouth to feed, Zar kept an eye out for sources of nutrition. They passed a boggy spring and Zar called a halt and bent to examine the plants that were growing in it. She yanked a feathery green stem up and produced a nice size tuber about the size of an egg.

“What is that?” Syra asked uncertainly.

“Breadroot,” Zar answered. “Dinner tonight.”

She collected about twenty of the tubers and they set off again. When they reached a clear stream, she washed and scrubbed the tubers until they were free of mud.

“Let’s camp here,” she decided, glancing at the sun, which was starting to fall. “We can easily make it to Seletre tomorrow.”

“Ok,” Syra said and she immediately removed her shoes and sock and sat on a rock next to the water to soak her feet.

Zar began a fire and then halved the breadroot tubers with her knife. She sharpened several sticks and used them as skewers to cook the tubers until they were softened and slightly browned. Then she handed one to Syra. The girl bit into a tuber gingerly and then her eyes brightened.

“That’s good,” she said in surprise, quickly going after another.

They ate in silence for a time. Finally Syra laid down her skewer and gazed at Zar. “How do you know this stuff? Like the breadroot and hunting the dove. Do you live around here?”

Zar shook her head.

“They how? I mean you know how to hunt and collect all these foods and herbs. Zar who are you?”

Zar glanced at her and took another bite of breadroot.

“I’m just a traveler,” she said shortly.

Syra didn’t seem very satisfied with this answer, but Zar hardly cared. It was clear that the girl didn’t know anything about the world outside of her kingdom and Zar wasn’t going to be the one to enlighten her. Their relationship was going to be a short one, and then they would likely never cross paths again. Zar was only helping this girl because of her engrained sense of duty. In her mind, the ring she had stollen was payment for her assistance to the girl. By helping her, she wouldn’t betray her Chei’s lessons to her in her youth, and she would also make out well for herself.

“Well you aren’t like anyone I’ve ever met before,” Syra concluded after a few moments.

Zar snorted. “I’m not a noble maiden, is that what you mean?”

“Yes,” Syra said, clearly not catching Zar’s cynicism. “Your skin is so dark compared to mine, and your eyes,” she came right up to Zar’s face and gazed into her eyes. Syra’s irises were a caramel brown color, like all human eyes that Zar had ever seen.

“So green. It’s almost like they’re colored from leaves.”

Feeling uncomfortable, Zar stood up and excused herself from Syra’s curiosities. She didn’t know how the girl would react if she were to reveal her identity as a fae, but she assumed badly. Not many humans were very overjoyed when they learned who she really was. Fae were feared and mistrusted by most humans. She went to collect some herbs for Syra’s blisters and also for her bruised ribs. When she returned she found Syra washing her socks, which were bloody from her blisters.

“Here,” she said, handing Syra some feather leaf. “Wrap you feet in these before you sleep tonight. It’ll help. How’re your ribs?”

“A lot better, thanks.”

Zar removed her bandage, washed it in the cool clear water and then prepared another one for her to use for that evening.

“The swelling is going down,” Zar remarked as she ran her fingers along the girl’s side. She applied the new bandaging and then looked up at a sudden sound. There was a crunching noise coming from across the stream. Whatever the source was, it was hard to see behind a patch of willows.

“What is it?” Syra whispered.

Zar shook her head and stood, holding her hand up to indicated that Syra should stay where she was. Then she notched an arrow into her bow and crept forwards. There was the sound of splashing and then of cracking branches. Zar peered around the willows. For a moment she stood stalk still. Then she motioned for Syra to come over. Uncertainly Syra tottered forwards and joined her. She gazed over and a smile burst onto her face.

Behind the willows were a family of young foxes, a mother and two pups.

“They’re so cute,” Syra sighed, watching as the pups rolled around in the mud by the water.

Zar couldn’t help but to grin as well. The foxes moved on after a time and the sun fell below the trees. The sky was a soft peach color. Zar unrolled her sleeping kit for Syra and took out a small clay pipe. She packed some herb in the bowl and lit up, inhaling deeply. Syra crawled into the bedding.

“Is the ground harder tonight, or is it just me?” she inquired, wriggling around to find a comfortable position.

“Don’t worry, you’ll have a soft feather bed and a hot bath tomorrow, my lady,” Zar chided her softly.

The girl nodded off while Zar smoked. She then decided to find a decent patch of ground for herself. She nestled in a spot that was close to Syra but not within touching distance and sang for a while. A light breeze blew across them. Zar laid back and drifted into dreams.

At some point, she felt the ghostly hand of her Shei on the top of her head as he had often placed it there to comfort her.

“You see Izara, with love and kindness in your heart, you can change the fortunes of people far more than with hatred and distain.”