Feagrim reached into the pack for another wafer of trailbread. It was dry and he was grateful for the berries Eorrid had found. There might have been something else deeper in the pack, but he was feeling lazy and didn’t want to start emptying it just to put it all back in. Next to him, Eorrid was brushing crumbs from her dress. Not far from the road, they had perched themselves on the trunk of a tree that had been blown over in a storm, apparently years ago. Laid out on the bark were a dozen or more oblong roots the size and shape of a fat thumb. The muddy soil on them was drying.
“What was the fight with your father about?”
Her question caught Feagrim off guard. He inhaled crumbs of the trailbread and it made him cough. Several sips of water later he found his voice.
“He made a demand I could not abide. I had quit my carpenter's apprenticeship for a few reasons which he refused to accept and tried to order me to return.”
“Apprenticeship is a big deal, how could you be against it?”
“I wasn’t against it. I’d already learned a lot from being around Master Mason Kursk and from helping Heored when his father was overloaded with orders. I was planning on apprenticing as a mason. You can guess why.”
“Then why a carpenter's apprentice?” she asked.
“Exactly.” Eorrid looked confused. “One fine morning, I was about to leave the house to help Derntor and Heored with an order of chisels that Egerton had placed. We’d been at it for a week and almost had them done. My father comes down the stairs and says ‘come with me, boy’ and drags me off to carry lumber for a house he’s building with Leoleth, his master carpenter. My brother is there too, but he’s useless unless told what to do. I overhear my father boasting about how he’s brought two apprentices and how the other journeymen owe him drinks. So it’s nothing I can get out of easily and I have to apologize to Derntor later for missing work. Then one day Leoleth calls us all together to tell us to be on the lookout for goblins. Hunters,” Feagrim paused to wave at the woods where Asbjorn had gone, “had seen signs of them, and had met with adventurers from Stormfort that were tracking them. Some of the tracks were only a few hundred yards away from where we were working. That night was the raid.”
“Then if you knew goblins were in the area why wasn’t your mother home, safe?”
“I’ll answer that with another question.” Feagrim ate a few of the last berries. “Would you work with someone who's only reason for offering the job, knowing you already had an apprenticeship in the works, was pride? Bragging rights? And their way of offering you the job was taking you away from something you were already committed to? Someone that knowing goblins had been in the area argues with their wife to the point she has to leave the house? Then when she doesn’t come back, just goes to work like a normal day in the morning? I wasn’t asleep, I heard the fight.”
Berries fell out of Eorrid’s numb fingers, tumbling into her lap. Her face contorted in anger. “No! How could?” Words failed her.
“She used to have a habit of disappearing when I was younger so we were never close. The last year or so she’d stopped doing that and at least was trying to be a mother. Turns out she was a really good cook.” Feagrim smiled weakly. “When she didn’t come back I left the house too. I searched all night. When I smelled the smoke from the fire, I went there. Brionna, I mean, Lady Scalewarden was part of the adventurers from Stormfort. She stopped me from getting closer. They were still chasing the last of the goblins.”
“Auntie was there? It’s not strange, but she didn’t come to see us.” She finished collecting the spilled berries.
Feagrim looked at the ground and fidgetted with the seam on his trousers. “In the morning, after the last goblin corpse was tossed on the fire and the blaze was just embers, she walked me home. Father and Dungel were already gone for the day. So we walked back across the town, rather near where the fire had been. They were already working. She told me not to come, and go see someone that cared about me and waved her hand towards the Kursk homestead. She walked in and I left. The shock hadn’t really settled in yet, but I didn’t want to trouble anyone with my problems so I wandered through town for a while. I just didn’t want to go home or see my father. When I did see him again he looked like a ghost had sucked ten years of his life away. But that’s the story.”
“Is that why he was getting the cold shoulder at the wake?”
“That was the other carpenters. It was suspicious to them.”
“Sounds like you never had anyone that would be there for you. I can’t imagine.”
“There were neighbors that didn’t want to see another Grousler so I had some guidance. Then there was a certain boy that tried to bully a little girl and I became the town’s Little Hero.” Feagrim waved his hand back towards Dawnwick. “Until I ran away.”
“They didn’t run away with you as I did. I hope that’s a point in my favor, let me do what the others didn’t when you needed them.” She started waving her hands emphatically. “Wait! That sounded weird. I just want you to feel you can count on me.” Her eyes went wide. “But not as a sister! And I don’t want a brother either! That wasn’t fun at all. We don’t have anyone else, right?”
“Eorrid, I didn’t much enjoy having a brother either, but I think that’s because I had to be independent.” He looked at her straight on. “And I don’t think I can see you as a sister either.” He glanced up that the sky and wondered when he would be able to stop being the hero and just be Feagrim. It was getting cloudier.
Feagrim reached for his pack. “Asbjorn is sure taking a while. If you’ve had enough, let’s load this up and get moving.”
She looked confused. “But what about Asbjorn?”
“He’s far more experienced than I am. He knows where we’re going and how we’re getting there. He can move faster than we can and if I leave a sign on the road he’ll know we’ve gone ahead.” Feagrim bent to close up the pack.
Eorrid quickly scarfed down the last of the berries and started shaking the excess dried dirt off the tubers. She put them in Feagrim’s cloth and tied the corners together to bundle them up and make it easy to carry in one hand.
On the road, Feagrim carefully noted which side had the flowers they dug and faced the right direction to Stormfort. At the edge of the road, he broke a stick into three pieces and laid them on the ground to make an arrow pointing in the direction they were about to go. Briefly, he reconsidered waiting for Asbjorn to return. It would have been near useless to go looking for him. If he was still hunting, any disturbance might spook the animals and waste the time invested in success.
He took the lead and set off at a quick pace. Soon, they had to yield to prudence. Neither of them had healed much, and thanks to both Garmer and the goblins those injuries nagged. Time passed and they traveled several miles before, at the crest of a hill, when Feagrim looked back to check on Eorrid, he could see another traveler far in the distance. He stopped and waited for her to catch up.
“If I’m right, that’s Asbjorn back there.”
“Where?” she asked, breathing heavily.
Feagrim noticed her breathing hard and that her face was flushed. “I’m surprised, you acted like you had experience in the forest. The road is level and easy, it shouldn’t be that strenuous.”
She glared at him. “I’m usually closer to town and taking my time filling my basket. Not jogging mile after mile for hours at a time!”
“You should have said you were having to push too hard to keep up. I haven’t had to hike like this in a long time either. We’ll soon be farther than I’ve ever been from Dawnwick.”
“I don’t want to be the reason for slowing down and holding you back.”
“Didn’t you just tell me that neither of us had anyone else? You wanted me to be able to count on you? That’s not how a team works. If we’re in this together, we take care of each other.” He watched the frustration fade from her eyes.
“Stopping again so soon?” Asbjorn had caught up. He carried a sack over one shoulder. “Let’s get a little farther and call it a day.” He stopped and eyed them both up and down. “You’re both still pretty battered,” he paused, took in the bundle Eorrid carried and raising one bushy eyebrow, “and you’re new at this. For the last mile, your tracks have been irregular and you started dragging your toes. We can’t have you too worn out on the first day.”
A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
“Go easy old man. I was reminding her to speak up rather than just plodding along.”
“Old man you call me.” Asbjorn grimaced, “I’ll have you know. . .”
“That you could have been my father,” Feagrim finished. “You’ve said it before, but you missed your chance nineteen years ago.”
“I wasn’t the only one after your mother.” Asbjorn poked him in the chest. “You take after her, but you got Kodrun’s hair. I never could figure out why Aldwyn suddenly went for him. Looking back I think the lads and I were the lucky ones and he got what he deserved.”
“You knew his mother?” asked Eorrid, cautiously.
“They did,” said Feagrim. “She always got nervous when Asbjorn came to the house.”
Asbjorn said, “Some stories are better left untold. Let those that never told them while alive, rest in peace, and don’t go digging into their history.” He shook his head. “However, there is one thing I do need to tell you, young lady.” Eorrid looked at him expectantly. “It’s about your father. He was well known outside of Dawnwick, especially in Thornrest. There will be some that remember the name Hazewind.”
“You make Feagrim’s father out to be some kind of petty criminal. Don’t tell me my father was up to ill deeds as well!”
Asbjorn held his hands up. “Nothing of the sort, mostly. He’s well regarded and you could run into old friends of his. They’ll probably be delighted to hear about what your father got up to, and in a pinch might lend you their aid. If you spread your name around, just don’t be surprised.”
Feagrim cleared his throat. “If break time is over, let’s get moving, or at least walk and talk. Those clouds haven’t gotten any thinner and I’d rather be camped before it starts.”
Asbjorn looked into the sky. “Not until morning at least. It’s been building all day, so it’ll be a soaker. Probably start before lunch.”
Eorrid’s expression fell. “I hadn’t thought about rain. It’ll be hard to sleep wet, cold, and shivering all night.” She fidgetted with the hilt of her dirk.
“I carry a canvas sheet to hang overhead and sleep under,” said Asbjorn. “Over a branch, tied between trees, propped up on sticks wherever.” He started off down the road, the sack jiggling as he went.
“You’ll be fine,” said Feagrim, “trust Eadryth. I’m sure there’s something, I don’t know what she’s packed. We’ll figure it out.”
“You both seem to think pretty far ahead.” She looked up at the clouds and started following behind the ranger.
Feagrim took a deep breath and trudged along behind them. He held onto some hope that despite the pounds of tubers and what he assumed was a sack of meat Asbjorn was carrying, they’d eat something out of the pack to make it lighter.
The road rolled along below their feet. Trees, thick enough to block out the sky hemmed the road tightly before breaking into sudden clearings. A few showed signs of wear by wagons with stone-lined firepits. It was a reminder, that although they had seen no other travelers, the road was a vital artery for commerce between the towns. Dawnwick was not visited frequently by caravans save for Kursk Mercantile and they normally did not come straight into town. They skirted it until they got to the homestead and camped in the field by the quarry. Like other rural towns, Dawnwick was frequently visited by charlatans trying to make some fast coin. Legitimate merchants had a difficult time weaving through the provincial prejudices. And having only recently expanded beyond a large village, Dawnwick didn’t have the population yet to attract caravans.
Bandits and highwaymen played their part too. They preferred to make their lairs away from heavily patrolled areas. Away from large cities that have the manpower to fill barracks with guardsmen, there was little to curb their predations. It might have seemed foolhardy to travel in small groups, but to the bandits, accosting them was too risky. They might just be high-ranking adventurers. Even worse they could be bored enough to chase them all the way to their hideout and rob them in turn. But in the country, they could gather in numbers large enough to be a problem for small merchants.
Two more hours passed before Asbjorn stopped. When Eorrid and Feagrim caught up to him they could faintly hear the brook. Their waterskins were on the verge of being wrung dry so it was a grateful trio that descended from the road. The water ran clear and cool so they drank as much as they wanted and refilled their skins.
“The last time I was here was right after the thaw. The brook was deep and fast so I couldn’t cross it,” said Feagrim.
“Why would you want to?” asked Eorrid.
Asbjorn said, “To camp on the other side.”
“I didn’t know it at the time, I simply thought I couldn’t cross it, not that I wanted to.”
“Anyone or anything on the road looking for water would walk right into your camp if you set up here.” Asbjorn pointed at the wide, flat area they were standing in. “Some do anyway. Groups mostly. But if you want to sleep in peace, don’t camp by the water.” He hopped from rock to rock and across the brook without getting his boots the least bit wet.
Feagrim started across, then turned to offer a hand to Eorrid. She made the first jump, but the bundle of tubers pulled her off balance. Her arms flailed for a moment and two of the tubers tumbled out of the top of the cloth. He lunged to stop her from falling. He failed to grasp her hand or arm. With a wild grab aimed at the bundle of tubers, he missed it as well. He was losing his own balance now. Rather than trying to stay on the rocks he stepped off into the water and reached for her once more as she toppled backward. The only thing in reach was the front of her dress so he took a big handful of cloth and pulled her back. Her feet finally slipped off the rock and she tumbled onto Feagrim, standing in the water, wet to his knees. Her bedroll dangled inches above the water and her sudden fall knocked one of Feagrim’s pack’s straps off his shoulder. Without another word, he carried her over the water as she shook, with her face buried in his shoulder. He knew she was thin, in his arms, he couldn’t deny she somehow still had curves. Even with the bedroll and the bundle, she was light. When he set her down, high and dry on the other side, he almost missed holding her.
She burst out laughing. Tears rolled down her face. “Ridiculous! It looked so easy you miserable cheaters!”
Looking at her holding her stomach from laughing, he couldn’t help but laugh as well. He sat on a rock. “Wait, watch this.”
She looked up as he pulled off a boot and poured the water out. Fresh fits of hysterical laughter erupted out of her. Tears streamed down her cheeks, her face red, laughing and gasping for breath.
“I, I, stop that!” she coughed as Feagrim sloshed the water in his other boot. “I can’t hold it, I have to go make water!” She quickly shuffled some distance away behind a dense thicket of bushes.
Feagrim pulled off the other boot and dumped the water out. He thought he heard an echo that added a snort and giggles. He wrung out his socks before putting the boots back on. He pulled on his pack, picked up Eorrid’s bedroll and the bundle of tubers, then followed Asbjorn’s trail of crushed grass. The first time he’d been to the second brook he didn’t know about the campsite on the other side. He learned about it from overhearing one of Derntor’s customers. Curious, he’d butted into the conversation. The adventurer was amused and told him about it, then told him and Heored a story about when they were chased by something called a golem. They jumped over a crack in the ground and the golem didn’t make it and fell in. It tried to claw it’s way out while they kept running until it was long out of sight. Derntor dropped a chunk of metal and the sudden noise spooked the nervous adventurer. They admitted they thought that maybe it was still coming for them and it was just a matter of time before it appeared to tear them apart.
He felt some thorns tug on his tunic. Reaching back to dislodge them, he felt a small, warm hand. He froze.
“Please don’t leave me.” Eorrid’s voice was small and quiet. “I was only gone for a moment.”
“I wasn’t leaving you. It looked like you needed a private moment so I picked up everything and was taking it to our campsite for the night.”
“We were laughing and it felt fun and like ice was melting. Then you weren’t there and I was alone again. I laughed with my mother and father until they got sick. They begged me not to cry, and to find someone that I could laugh with again. After they were gone if ever I was happy or laughed, my brother would be cruel and do things and jeer at me as I cried. Brother was afraid of Auntie so he would leave me alone when she was there. She was so cold that even when I was with her it was just like being by myself.”
Feagrim struggled. All the years he withstood the abuse of Garmer, all the people he stood up for and saved from his attacks and tantrums. All this time there was one person he knew he had to save but was terrified to try. Not because he thought he would fail, but because he thought she would suffer far worse and she might even lose the last of her family. No matter how terrible he might have been, someday he might have turned around. He had abandoned her just as surely and he could have done something. Anything would have been better than quietly turning away and hoping it wasn’t as bad as he thought it was.
He now understood why she had chased after him and why Eadryth encouraged her to track him down. Eorrid saw him as the last flicker of her hope. He recited to himself a line from the book he knew well: “A hero’s first job is to preserve hope, stir the hearts of people into believing a new day will come even in the darkest hours.” Her last flame had to be protected and a way found to let it bloom. He turned towards Eorrid and gently pulled her close. She clung to him and he expected her to sob and weep. Instead, her embrace was strong and made him feel like something that was missing had been found. Feagrim thought he could feel her heart beat and was unsure whether it was really his, but he was certain it was only one pulse. She let him go. He missed it.
In a shaky voice, she said, “I’ll bet Asbjorn is waiting.” She looked up, her eyes were wet. “Let’s grab some wood on the way and get supper started.”
Feagrim started walking. “What do you have planned?”
“There should be dried meat and cheese. With a second pot I’ll stew some dried fruit.”
“I think Asbjorn has a surprise for you with the meat. I told him you needed something for tallow and we talked about getting a begdar.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Are those even edible?”
“He seemed confident in your skills and was going to try and find one that had been living on sweet things.”
“Ugh. We’ll see, but no promises.”