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Rifts in the Weave
023 - Just After Midnight - 24 Harvest, 385 - Wild Weave, Farthess Reach, Charan

023 - Just After Midnight - 24 Harvest, 385 - Wild Weave, Farthess Reach, Charan

The Franklin brothers rode north and east, away from both the armies and whatever had brought them to this place. The tall grasses parted around the horses and swept closed behind them as though the path they walked existed only in the moment, appearing from nowhere and returning to nowhere when they stepped forward. There was a darkness here that spoke to an utter lack of civilization, no flames lived in this part of the world. The Franklins had left the armies behind almost an hour ago, heading north and east away from the last touchstone that led to Iowa.

The occasional tree, reaching wide spreading branches toward the brilliant swirl of stars above, stood proudly amid the rolling grasslands. Howard brought his dark gelding to a stop, his dark eyes cast in shadow, but they scanned the area. “Ain’ nothing ‘round here.” He murmured, checking his sidearm reflexively.

Clark brought his mount to a stop a half step ahead of his brother, his own eyes scanning the surroundings. “Reckon there ain’ nothing what hunts at night ‘round here?”

The buckskin mare shifted uncomfortably, ears twitching.

Reckon it’s more’n likely there is and we’ve gone and disturbed it.” Howards voice wasn’t soft as he kept looking around.

“Feel their eyes on ya?”

“Yep.”

Clark hummed out a breath, his saddle creaking as he shifted his weight. His mare snorted, tossing her head a bit. “What you reckon we should do about it?”

Howard shrugged in the darkness, “Dunno.”

“It’s so empty here.” Clark observed, turning to glance over his shoulder back toward the way they had come.

Howard made a non-committal response and kept looking off into the darkness.

“Reckon we should set up camp?”

“Nope. I reckon we should keep on moving. There’s something what ain’ right about this place and I don’ like the idea of closin’ my eyes on it.”

Clark nodded and urged his horse into a walk once more. The waving grasses closed in on the path the brothers had carved out as soon as they moved on. There was something about the yawning darkness around the two, like something out there was waiting to swallow them whole.

The night passed in excruciating slowness, wearing on the Franklins as they rode through the sea of grasses, occasionally passing by one of the island-like trees. The sky in the east was lightening and the awful grip of darkness was loosening when they came upon the shores of a vast watering hole. A depression in the landscape had caught water and held it through the dry summer. A thick border of mud surrounded the hole and the water in the middle, while still deep in places, was hardly clean. The horses picked their way through the sucking mud to the edge of the water, ears flicking warily for sounds in the stillness.

Howard took a small sip of water from his canteen as the horses drank deeply, one at a time. Clark kept a wary eye on the waving grasses that surrounded the watering hole. “I feel like there are a thousand eyes on me, but I haven’t seen a single living thing since we left those armies.” He observed.

After taking a second, small sip of water, Howard nodded. “There’s got to be something out there. Ain’ nowhere in the world ain’ got bugs.”

“Reckon that’s true.” Clark frowned into the darkness as the eastern sky began to pinken. “I hadn’t even thought of bugs. I was noticin’ there weren’t no birds or coons, or nothing like that.”

“Ain’ seen a single fly since we got here.”

“Well, heck.”

“You in wild place. No bug in wild place. No things but wild things, broken.”

Both horses shied away from the sudden voice and for a moment it was all the brothers could do to save themselves from sliding off into the mud. A moment was all it took for Howard and Clark to regain control of their mounts, but in that moment a woman emerged from the grasses at the edge of the watering hole. She stood tall, taller than both brothers, well over six feet of broad shouldered, heavily muscled woman. Both brothers were quick to avert their eyes as they realized she wore only a loincloth about her hips.

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“Ma’am,” Clark said, after roughly clearing his throat. “Good mornin’ to ya.”

“Good, bad. Is morning.” She responded, her voice was rough and rusty as though she didn’t speak much. “You come out wild place, why?”

“Your pardon, ma’am. Whaddya mean by wild place?”

The woman pointed west. “Wild place. Twisty place. Why you there?”

Howard shrugged, glancing at the woman from the corner of his eye. Still almost naked.

“We came from another place.” Clark tried to explain. “There were two armies and we reckoned twerent wise to stay around.”

The woman made a humming sound deep in her throat as she thought that over. “You come.” She said at last, turning away without waiting for a response. She headed almost directly north, only changing course to skirt the eastern edge of the watering hole.

When Clark met his eyes, Howard shrugged and urged his horse to follow. Adrift in a world they didn’t quite understand, the Franklin brothers followed the strange woman north. She moved quickly, easily keeping pace with the horses at a lope. At first the brothers tried to talk to her, ask questions about what they had seen. She did not speak another word after telling them to come.

The very top of the sun had crested the horizon when Howard pointed to a shadowy forested area to the north. The stranger was bringing them straight toward it. Clark checked his gunbelt as he nodded, whatever waited for them to the north, the brothers would have to deal with it one way or another.

The trio traveled another mile before the woman stopped. “Wait.” It was a sharp command and she waited for no response before running off again.

“Well, I reckon she’s not brought us into an ambush. She’d keep us moving in that case, right?”

“Yep.” Howard answered, squinting at the forest, trying to make out what was going on in the distance. “Cattle?” He thought he could make out a herd of some sort, in the direction the woman was heading.

Clark looked for a moment, straining to make out any details. “Too far away to tell. Spose we’ll learn something outta this, either way.”

“Don’ expect we’ll have much choice, whatever she wants to do with us.”

“Not sure I like this place at all.” Clark said at length. “Something about it feels dangerous, wrong-like.”

“Yep. We’ve seen dangerous afore.”

“Sure have, Howard, don’ mean I want to see it again.”

“Hmmm.” Was the only response Howard gave. The horses relaxed as their riders waited, taking a few mouthfuls of the tall grass as they shifted in place. Neither brother dismounted, unwilling to give up the vantage point well above the tall grasses. “She’s coming back. With somebody.”

Clark nodded and looked away, only watching the half-naked woman and her companion run toward them from the corner of his eye. As the sun climbed higher, it brought with it warmth and the brothers became aware of how cold it had been before. A few paltry degrees above freezing.

The woman ran up, stopping several feet away, out of immediate range. “Shaman.” She almost grunted the word, pointing at another person who had followed her. This person was even taller than the woman, closer to seven feet. Where she was broad and muscular, he was thin. Long steel-grey hair framed an ovular face painted with brilliant green stripes. His eyes were the same shade of green and so piercing it was almost painful to meet them. He carried a gnarled staff topped with the skull of some sharp fanged animal and stood tall as he regarded the Franklins.

“Amien say you come from wild place. Say you bring silence with. Why you come? You come to harm the farspeakers?”

Howard frowned as he tried to unravel the words, but Clark answered. “We mean no harm to anyone what don’ do harm itself.” He was frowning too, but it was a softer expression than Howard’s. “We came from that direction.” He pointed. “We don’ know how we came to be there, to be frank. Don’ reckon we know the way home neither.”

“No harm? True?” The shaman asked, his green eyes seeming to peer into Clark’s very soul.

“It’s the God’s honest truth. We ain’ men what do harm willy-nilly. We’re for justice, you know?”

“Justice?” The shaman seemed to taste the word, rolling it around in his mouth. He looked Howard and Clark up and down, long meaningful, pointed looks. “You bring silence, you no belong.” He said at last.

“No, I reckon we don’t.” Howard answered. “We didn’t mean to come here.”

“Ignorance and accident.” The shaman mused quietly.

Clark exchanged a glance with Howard, wondering what came next. The shaman seemed to be thinking, trying to make a decision and Clark sensed it wasn’t wise to interrupt that thought. Instead he waited as the moment seemed to stretch.

Finally, the shaman tapped his staff sharply against the ground, a sound that seemed to echo. “I take you under wing. I keep you until the silence wears off. Then you go. Come, learn, live, rest. Mine swear you no harm. You swear too?”

Again the brothers exchanged a glance, after a moment, Clark nodded. “We swear no harm to you and yours.” They both said the words, almost in tandem.