Chapter 32

Despite rationing they were using water far faster than their trail was progressing. It had taken them eight days to move from Abo to the foot of the mountains. Now it had been twelve days, and most of the water barrels were empty.

“It’s going to take another ten or twelve days to get up there,” Erik said. “Then we have to figure out what the next challenge is.”

“From there it’s trail building, but not as bad,” Dichali said. “The valley’s about four day’s march away, if you’re fit and on foot. We have women, children, and these wagons to worry about.”

“How far to the nearest water?” Erik asked.

“At least three days if we send a few men, and they push hard.”

“A few men can carry what, a barrel, perhaps two?” Ezhno asked.

“In this country, probably four men per barrel if you want to get the water back here in time to do any good,” Dichali said.

“We have fifteen men,” Erik said. “We send one wagon west for two days. The other wagon goes east. I’m too heavy to put on a wagon, so I’ll stay here and guard the women and children. We’ll put one of my men with each wagon, to manage the horses. A trail master will go with them. That leaves ten to go for water up the slope.”

“You can’t stay here alone,” Ulf said. “We always have two.”

“I’ll have Thyra and the girls,” Erik said.

“Two,” Ulf said.

“Mato should stay,” Ezhno said. “Erik is best able to end a threat, and Mato is best able to defend the women and children.”

“Very well. Nine will go upslope. Get ready, and let’s get started.”

Ezhno and a northman named Sten went west. Dichali and Ulf went east. The rest of the men fashioned harnesses to allow them to carry barrels on their backs, then went up the slope with three. Rocks tumbled behind them.

That left twenty-seven souls at the foot of the mountain with all of the gear that wouldn’t be needed by the water carriers.

“Are we going to make it?” Mato asked softly.

“Aye,” Erik said. “We have water coming in six days. Less if we’re lucky. In the meantime, let’s get this trail built.”

Mother turned out to be a good engineer. She picked rocks and directed their placement. Erik’s wife and daughters provided extra muscle, and the older children brought food and water up to the workers as needed.

Mato found himself working beside Hilda, and made an extra effort to be cheerful and helpful. He thought he was doing a good job, until they took a break together.

“You’re trying to win me back,” she said.

He wanted to make a joke about trying to impress Hilda’s sister, but figured it wouldn’t go over well.

“I’m not. I’m worried about being grumpy with you, and I might be overcompensating.”

Her blue eyes bored into his. “Is that true, Mato?”

“Yes. I mean, my heart is in every direction. I want to shout at you, I want to kiss you. I’m just trying to do the right thing until my heart figures things out.”

She sighed and studied the salt plain below. “I’m sorry. You have been good to me, and I… I guess this is why we promised to talk, isn’t it?”

“Exactly. Is everything okay now?”

“As okay as it’s going to be,” she said.

“Good. What does your sister think of me?”

She snorted and slapped his leg. “You’re a regular dog, aren’t you?”

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“What’s a dog?”

* * *

They worked into the night until they couldn’t see, then slept a while and rose with the first hints of sunrise. When it grew stiflingly hot, they found shade beside boulders and waited for evening.

Water came a sip at a time, and Mato’s lips cracked and bled despite the healing from his shield and the jar of tallow in his pack. It didn’t take long for days to blend together. His throat hurt, his lips hurt, and it burned when he peed.

Mato nearly had a heart attack when Mother fell and rolled ten paces down the slope. Fortunately, he was quick with his shields now, and she had a couple of scratches and some tears in her clothing, but nothing serious.

Day four came, and they put the adults on a sip a day, and the children on half rations. Work stopped, and everyone sat under Mato’s sun shield. At least the healing effect took away some of the thirst pains.

“The wagons should be back,” Mato said.

“Aye,” Erik said. “They’ll get here. After they travel two days, if they don’t find anything, they’ll risk a third or fourth day. Don’t worry yet.”

Hilda sat nearby and listened, but didn’t speak.

Mother came to him and gave him a sip from a ladle. It was warm, and tasted of oak barrels. It was the best water he’d ever had.

“What happened?” Mother asked sadly. “How did we come to this?”

Erik’s fist clenched, and Mato put a hand on his arm.

“I’m sorry, Mother. I knew this would be hard. Hard isn’t even the word. I knew it would be the next thing to impossible. Abo is built on lies. The priests lie to us, Sotsona lies to us. If you do business with trail masters, we lie to you--not because we wish to, but because telling the truth will get people killed.

“Sotsona is a monster. He gives us gold, so that we will feel grateful, and then the water merchants sell the water to us at inflated prices. Then Sotsona taxes the gold from the merchants. It’s just part of his system for keeping control.

“He is a liar, a murderer, a thief, and… other things I’m sure.”

“What about your brothers and sister who remained?”

Mato hugged himself and bowed his head. “I don’t know. I don’t know. I spoke to them, invited them, but how could they believe? I had months to make up my mind, and the rest of you had minutes. I’m so sorry. I just don’t know what I could have done better.”

Mother settled into a cross-legged position in front of him. “What makes you think you know better than Sotsona and the priests?”

“Many things. I suppose the easiest one is this.” He drew his sword and carefully laid it across her knees. “See the shield I make? If it came from the sword, giving the sword to you would stop the shield.”

She looked at him, then down at the blade. Her finger traced the warrior rune, and then she looked to Erik. “Is that true?”

“Yes, ma’am, it is.”

Her eyes turned back to Mato. “Then how are you doing it?”

He pulled his shirt off, and she gasped. Hilda’s eyes grew big and she leaned forward.

Mato turned around to show them his back. “This is the guardian rune. When I got it, it was the shield rune. The glyph on my chest is sanctuary. The priests teach that runes cannot be changed, but one of the thema changed my shield rune to a guardian rune.

“They teach that there is only one gift that can be requested of the Great Ladies. The words are very specific, and deviation is said to cause horrible punishment. But I requested the heart to do what must be done, and the Great Lady gave me the shield rune on my skin.

“The priests called it a heresy. They wanted to carve it off, or simply kill me. The corruption among the priests is total. I do not know of a single good one.

“Sotsona trains the priests personally. They spend more time with him than anyone other than his family and household servants.

“The only truth in Abo belongs to the trail masters. We remember things that the priests would erase.”

Tears ran down her face and she put her head in her hands. “My home. My children and grandchildren.”

Mato sheathed his sword, then rose to his knees and embraced her. “I know, Mother. I know.” His own tears ran down onto her neck.

* * *

Erik woke everyone. “Wagon! There’s a wagon coming!”

It was Ezhno and Sten. The wagon creaked up to camp, and they opened a barrel and passed out water to everyone.

“There’s a little trickle a little over two days away. It’s up a little canyon. We had to pack all of the barrels in and out, and it takes time to fill them, but there’s water there.” Ezhno sounded ebullient, and he picked Mother up and spun her around, then got her a second dipper of water.

“Well, you have excellent timing, boys,” Erik said. “We were beginning to get a little crusty.”

With water, they returned to work on the steps. It was still going to take significant time and effort, but they had reasonable food stores, and now they had a way to refill their barrels.

Evening brought the climbers, moving carefully down the slope as rocks broke free and tumbled around their feet.

Mato met with Moki and Otaktay when they were finally in camp. “How was it?”

“Hard,” Otaktay said. “Much harder than the trip to the trials. There is no trail, no water along the way, and there are pointy plants that stab you in the legs.”

“He says it like it was a vacation,” Moki chuckled. “Otaktay spent more time carrying than anyone else. I don’t know how he did it. Without him we would have taken another day.”

Otaktay grinned. “I was just worried about Mato. You know how delicate he is.”