Journey of the Messenger Cycle 1 Part 9e

Journey of the Messenger Cycle 1 Part 9e

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There had been no follow up attack on the women, nor the horses. In fact, in the light of the new day no one had spotted any of the brigands skulking around the countryside. Perhaps they no longer had a stomach for death and violence, certainly they had lost many over the past two days.

Breakfast had been sparse, their food reserve was nearly gone. The horses were saddled, and they had continued southward. Walker and Flint decided to escort them as far as Potters Bridge; Flint ranged ahead of them, Berri was further behind, if there was trouble along the road they should have plenty of warning. The initiate of the Goddess of Mercy appeared to be in better spirits, she and Roddarra were seeing to the needs of the remaining women. Osran’s leg was giving her some trouble, she could not ride well and was with the others who needed assistance, much to her chagrin.

Walker rode alongside her, Ijah enjoyed his quiet presence through much of the morning. Near midday he asked, “What is your intent after we deliver these women to safety?”

“There is no choice but to return east. That message needs to be delivered to the sorceress. If we are lucky we can reach West Port before the snow blocks the roads.”

“Winter comes late south of the mountains, especially along the coast.”

“I had intended not to travel through Maldorn. I know little of the language or the customs.”

“I could help you reach the sorceress, perhaps saving you as much as three eight-days travel time.”

“You mean the ways?”

“Yes, I need to head back east myself. It would not be a burden to travel with three, or four more people.”

“Are there risks?”

Walker’s tone was casual, “Some, the fey are known to dwell within and travel along the ways. We may run into wild elves and periodically other powerful beings. Though, truth be told, I’ve rarely seen others while travelling in that fashion.”

“May I take some time to think the offer over?”

“Certainly, we would have to return to the standing stones of the wild folk or some other place of power.”

“Very well. I’ll let you know when I’ve made my decision.”

The silence between them returned.

Ijah enjoyed the countryside and his quiet companionship. She saw an eagle pass overhead as it soared towards the mountains, such a majestic creature. She noticed how small the mountains here were, compared to those further east, with plenty of trees even down into the hills they travelled through. A number of deer had been seen throughout the day. She hoped Berri or Flint would be able to kill one so they could eat some food later. She noted some of the women gathering from the roadside, that alone would not be enough to sustain them.

Much later she asked Walker, “How is it that you learned your craft?”

“Which?”

“Your magic.”

“Ah, my grandmother taught me, as she taught most of us born with the ability over the past two hundred years. She passed away in her sleep, three years ago. There is some argument among us as to exactly how old she was, but certainly she was well over three hundred. Her wisdom, knowledge and power would be useful now…”

Whatever else he had intended to say, was left unsaid. Ijah was not going to press him on the subject. He and Flint were engaged in some important task or quest and it seemed that others of his kin were doing the same. She thought that they knew something of the sorceress. She would have to ask him about it later. The Swampdon Council may have sent them on a fool’s errand, but she did not know enough to make that judgment yet.

Later in the afternoon, when the sun was nearing the western hilltops, Berri joined them, “Haven’t seen any troubles all day. There were a few tasty looking deer but Flint and I were only able to make four arrows this morning and they don’t have flights yet. Hey Walker?”

“Yes, Berri?”

“What do you know about women cycles?”

“A fair bit. Why do you ask?”

“Well, have you ever heard of someone not getting theirs until they were past their twentieth year and then only getting one?”

“Well, short of someone dying after their first period, no. Most of my kin do not start their cycle until their early twenties, some later than that. As well, most of my kin are only fertile for a few weeks every season, and typically have between three and five fertility cycles in a year.”

Ijah found that to be an interesting fact, Berri more so, “So I might be like you, a half-man?”

“Well now, that term is not very accurate,” He glanced over to her, “In fact, most of us don’t particularly like it.”

“Oh, sorry. Do you think I might be… of ancient blood?”

“I think you would have known by now. That’s something your family likely would have mentioned.”

“My mother never talks much about my father, she knew him for a few years after her husband died. My sisters and I had different fathers, is what I’m saying. When I asked, Mother just said he was a kind man, there when she had needed him and gone when that was no longer the case. Maybe she didn’t know.”

“Well, it’s not impossible; you’ve the height, and at twenty you appear to be in mid adolescent development-”

“Twenty-one now.”

“As I was saying. You’ve had your cycle once but not since. How long has it been?”

“I should have bleed again or at least be feeling it, I’d imagine. The first time it was really painful and my mood was very un-Berri-like. What about the magic you dispelled, you said I hadn’t been affected as much as Ijah. Is that a thing?”

“Yes, I was just getting to that. Though there could be other reasons why the spell did not affect you as much.”

“Ah, so I’m of Eldra blood?”

“I did not say you were, only that you could be. If your cycle is but once a season that would be a good indicator that you are.”

“Is there a way I could know for sure?”

“Some of my kin could tell, through magic, the sorceress may have that ability as well.”

“Oh.” Berri fell into a thoughtful silence.

Ijah considered the conversation. She had assumed Berri was one of those people wherein female and male traits were both expressed. She had never considered that she might be a half-man. Of ancient blood, rather. She wondered if Berri might show a talent for magic, among her people such ability usually surfaced in early adolescence. She considered Berri’s difficulties with the written word and how that might impact her ability to learn arcane lore.

The sun was sinking behind the hills, Roddarra joined them, “Hrelda says her homestead is not too far southeast of here. We’ll be leaving the road and cutting across the pasture lands between her homestead and one just a ways up the road. There should be supplies and food hidden in a cave. Flint thought it worth travelling on, even though it’ll be dark before we get there.”

Berri exclaimed, “I’m going to go tell Flint I might be a half-man! I mean, of Eldra descent. Who knows, maybe we’re cousins.”

Roddarra laughed as Berri hurried her horse to the front of the line, she glanced at Walker, he only nodded politely. They continued along the road for another yat or so, one to either side of her. Though they rode in silence, Ijah sensed tension between the three of them. Or thought she did, perhaps it was just wishful thinking. Either way, she hoped it was something to explore further, if the opportunity presented itself.

They left the road and moved across hilly pastures, as the day ended and the twilight deepened, they were forced to dismount and lead the horses in the moonlight. She had some time to reflect on what had happened over the past month. It seemed that her memories had returned. She remembered the fight and the way the last of that crew had used the word necromancer. She thought about her treatment of Osran and Berri over the past few eight-days. Even if she had not been in her right mind, she felt she had been more than passingly disrespectful and owed both of them an apology.

It seemed likely she would take Walker up on his offer to travel the ways. She knew part of the reason was emotional, perhaps even lustful, but practically speaking it was the only way they could reach West Port before winter.

Ijah hoped Roddarra would join them. She moved forward to walk alongside the beautiful woman, the two of them leading their horses, Walker further back. “So, I have a message to deliver, a fair way east of here. Walker says he can help us get there, through the ways. I still hope to reach West Port before winter and… Would you still be willing to travel with us?”

The other woman was quiet for a long while, Ijah waited patiently. “I see no reason why I would not go with you. To tell the truth, I am in no rush to return home… I’ve heard the dwarves have a pass through the mountains into Maldorn, some sort of canal system. Maldorn is beautiful through the autumn, the winters are fairly mild and it is an easy land to travel through.”

“I’m not familiar with Maldorn, other than West Port.”

“I’ve been to Maldorn a number of times, my family has contacts throughout the western duchies. We would be well situated, with more time to reach West Port.”

“You make it sound very pleasant.”

There was a hint of mirth in her tone, “I think it would be.”

Ijah considered the coming winter and the previously mentioned dangers throughout the Linklow Forest, “Very well.”

“Good.”

They travelled on through the evening as Masri rose high into the sky, they were walking alongside a fast moving brook. An owl called out three times and in the distance coyotes yapped and yipped.

A while later Roddarra said, “Did you know that your half-orc companion is pregnant?”

“Excuse me?”

“Sorry, initiate Loloke had said she sensed new life stirring within the half-blood’s womb.”

“Oh, I see…”

 

End Cycle One

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