Whisper of the Wilding Woods: Chapter 9
Whisper of the Wilding Woods: Chapter 9
Aline and the soldiers. Rain. Unexpected shelter.
Chapter 9
Crossing the rope bridge was the most terrifying thing Aline had ever done in her life. No matter how gingerly she stepped the bridge swayed violently. She clung tight to the guide ropes, the coarse fibers scratching her hands and making her palms sting from a dozen tiny lacerations. Her legs wobbled beneath her and in order to make each step, she was forced to look down and acknowledge the yawning chasm below her feet. Her eyes watered from the icy wind billowing down the rocky canyon. The hem of her cloak whipped around her, threatening to pull her off balance. The roar of water frothing angrily below served as a persistent reminder of the certain death that awaited her should she slip and fall.
But turning back was not an option. She risked a glance over her shoulder and saw Kaeleth guarding the bridge with his bow. There was no sign of their pursuers, but she knew they could not be far behind. Each breath still burned from the effort of running to keep ahead of them. She had to cross. One foot after another. Inch by inch. If not for her own sake, then for the boy valiantly guarding her while she made her way to freedom. Brave as he was, she knew he could not fight five men on his own. Not armed only with a bow and his little hunting knife. He was a keen-eyed hunter with deep knowledge of the forest Aline found fascinating, but she knew enough soldiers and killers to understand that Kaeleth wasn’t one of them. Her father had been one in his youth, and she had heard the stories men like Walram told when they were in their cups. She’d seen firsthand the difference between battle-tested soldiers and boys who’d only just begun their training in her father’s royal guard. There was a hardness to men who’d fought and killed. A remoteness in their eyes, as though they were only ever partially present in the world, some part of them perpetually on the battlefield with a sword or spear stuck in a man’s belly.
Kaeleth lacked this hardness. Much as he tried to emulate his father, to whom she owed a debt of gratitude she could never hope to repay, Kaeleth was merely a boy with a knife and a bow. And a boy with a knife and a bow could not hope to hold his ground against men like the soldiers who followed. He would die if she didn’t cross with all haste. When she did eventually set foot on solid ground again, Aline fell to her knees, clutching the bridge support post to keep from collapsing. Having reached the relative safety of the far side of the gorge, her reserves of fear-induced energy fled, abandoning her to tremors that wracked her body.
“I’m across!” she shouted, wondering why Kaeleth was not already on his way over himself.
She didn’t hear the men behind her over the noise of the rushing water below. Did not understand when a hand grabbed her roughly by the arm, yanking her to her feet. She balled the fist of her free hand and pounded it against the soldier’s chest until a blow to the back of her knee sent her sprawling to the ground. She bit back tears of pain and frustration, looking up in time to see an arrow whistle across the canyon, missing Kaeleth by scant inches as he dove out of the way.
“Eloric will take care of the runt,” said the red-bearded soldier who’d knocked her to the ground. “No sense wasting time and arrows. Maerd, grab the girl. Carry her if she won’t walk.”
Though determined to fight these men every step of the way, Aline quickly realized the hopelessness of her situation. They were four to her one. The smallest of them towered over her. When the one called Maerd took hold of her hair, she stood without resisting. Praying to the Goddess that Kaeleth would elude the man they’d sent for him, she stumbled alongside her captors as they made their way downhill. Their path veered away from the canyon’s edge, meandering through the forest for a time. When they had walked far enough for her to be certain they were taking her back in the direction of the cliff, she let out a scream that made her already dry throat raw. It was immediately cut short by Maerd’s hand over her mouth, his finger blocking her nose and cutting off her ability to breathe. She felt the tip of something sharp pressed against her ribs.
“Try that again,” Maerd said, his breath hot in her ear, “and you will spend the rest of our long journey in pain. I’ll take a finger for each time you so much as inconvenience me. Understood?”
“Enough of that,” red beard said with sharp authority. “If you can’t control her without the threat of dismemberment, it’s your fingers I should be taking.” Then he lowered his gaze to address Aline. “If you keep your mouth shut and your little friend plays it smart and doesn’t press us, we’ll let him live. Give us any trouble, and we’ll hunt him down and slit his throat. Fair?”
Stars dancing in her vision, Aline nodded frantically. She gasped when the hand was removed from her mouth. Too afraid to test her captor’s resolve so soon, she hurried along as quickly as her legs would carry her. The moved swiftly, following the path downhill and it wasn’t long before they veered sharply back toward the water. The river was wide and fast here, and someone had constructed a bridge that was little more than a series of slick, wet logs that had been roughly leveled and propped up on rocks. Watching wavelets smack against the logs, Aline was even more afraid of this than the rope bridge. A weather-worn post looked to have once served as the anchor for a guide rope, but only a tattered and frayed knot remained. The log bridge would have been treacherous under the best of circumstances, and Aline was far from at her best.
“I can’t cross that,” she pleaded. “I’m too weak, I’ll slip and fall!”
Maerd unsheathed his sword. “I believe you’ll find the courage to cross if you look within yourself. Or at least when you remember I’ll be right behind you all the while.” He ran the edge of the sword along her cheek, sliding it up into her hair. “Perhaps I’ll shave your head before we go, so as to prevent it from falling across your eyes and blinding you.”
“Enough yammering,” red beard grunted. He turned to the archer who still held his bow at the ready. “Any sign of Eloric?”
“Not yet,” the archer said, bending to remove his boots. “But we made good time and the boy is a slippery one. Eloric will dispatch him and catch up to us.”
“We should have taken the rope bridge,” Maerd said. “Crossing this thing was bad enough the first time.”
“Boots off,” red-beard ordered Aline. “Or I’ll let Maerd take his frustrations out on you. Ask me, though, you look a lot prettier with that hair than without it. He held up his left hand and waggled a thumb and three fingers. “And take it from me, you’ll be wanting to keep all your fingers right where they are.”
Aline bent to strip her boots from her feet, wincing as they rubbed against her blistered skin. She watched the men tie their laces together so they could sling the boots around their necks, then did the same herself. To keep her over-large cloak from dragging in the water behind her, she made a fold in the middle and tucked this into her pants. It was uncomfortable, but made it easier to keep her balance when Maerd finally forced her to step out onto the first of three logs that made up the crossing.
The sun-warmed wood was pleasant beneath her feet, at least until the first spray of water hit her ankles and toes. The water was as cold as winter ice. Even had she known how to swim, the frigid waters would render her limbs useless while she was carried downstream where she would no likely be dashed against the rocks before finding her way to shore. As with the rope bridge, she inched forward one step at a time, choosing now to shuffle slowly instead of daring to lift either foot for a proper step. Maerd made no complaint over her slowness, and for this small grace, she was thankful.
Eyes on the log in front of her, she did not see the archer fall. It was only when she heard Maerd’s low moan of confusion that she turned her head in time to see him topple into the water, short bristled feathers of an arrow protruding from his ear. Heart pounding, she dropped to her hands for balance. Who could be attacking them? She was a sitting duck if it was not Kaeleth, and had the boy not said he was too weak to draw his father’s bow? Whoever had fired that arrow had sent it with enough strength to bury it into a man’s neck from some distance. She had little knowledge of bows or arrows, but she knew from her father’s hunting stories how much skill such a shot would have required.
Red beard, who hadn’t yet taken his turn on the bridge, locked eyes with her, then leaped onto the bridge with arm outstretched as if to make a grab for her. He didn’t even get close before an arrow caught him in the neck, sending him into the river to join his companions. The last man turned and fled, but Aline didn’t watch to see if he made it to the safety of the trees. She scanned the riverbank, looking for the source of the arrows. So surprised was she at seeing Kaeleth lower his bow after having fired one last shot, that she nearly slipped and fell off the log herself.
Boots hanging heavily on her neck, and too shaky to risk standing upright, Aline sat on her heels and clung to the log beneath her for dear life. When she tried to crawl, she found she could not bring herself to move. Frigid water lapped over her fingers and toes, making them ache from the chill. The far side of the river was still so far away. There were two difficult log crossings between her and the beckoning salvation of the grassy green bank. Not more than twenty yards. An infant could crawl the distance on level ground, yet Aline was frozen in fear and exhaustion. Watching the soldiers disappear downstream after being pummeled against rocks as big as horses had exacerbated her fear of falling into the water to the point where closing her eyes was the only way she could keep herself from staring into the frothy white death churning inches below her.
A shadow fell over her and she heard Kaeleth ask, “Are you injured?”
Aline opened her eyes and looked up. Silhouetted against the sun, Kaeleth stood in front of her, hand reaching out for hers. Too numbed by fear to speak, she shook her head, refuting both the question and the offer of aid in standing with one curt gesture.
“Return to the near shore,” Kaeleth said. “It is not so far away, and the river is shallower near the bank. Should you fall, the current will not be so strong there. Don’t worry though, I won’t let you fall.”
Aline wished she could believe it. The log was narrow and wet. The boy could not hold her hand as she walked, nor possibly balance well enough to hold her if she fell. She would have to walk on her own, and she knew it. If only her legs and arms would obey, she would do so gratefully.
Kaeleth dropped to a crouch. “I know you’re afraid,” he said gently, almost inaudible over the furious crashing of water. “I’ve been constantly afraid these last days since our paths crossed. Nearly every waking moment and even when I slept. You mustn’t let this fear control you. Ten paces. Twelve at most. That’s all I’m asking. Crawl if you must, but you have to move, Aline. After everything we’ve already endured, I refuse to let you die on this stupid bridge.”
The boy was right, and Aline knew it. In her heart and in the pit of her stomach that roiled with the same turbulence as the river upon which she was stranded, Aline knew she would have to save herself. She’d stabbed a man, trekked through the wilderness without food, scaled a cliff, and fought back against armed soldiers. This log was yet one more trial to overcome. She would not let something so trivial be her final undoing. With Kaeleth’s assistance, she managed to stand once more. Turning around was a terrifying matter of adjusting her feet bit by bit, clasping Kaeleth’s hand tightly for balance all the while. But when she had nearly pivoted all the way around, she knew she had to let go and walk alone. With a final squeeze to assure herself she was in control, Aline relaxed her grip on Kaeleth’s hand. His shadow falling across the log was a comforting reminder that he was right behind her, and when she took her first step she felt the gentle pressure of his hand on her side.
“I’ll catch you if you falter,” he assured her. “But I know you won’t fall.”
After too many agonizingly small steps to count, Aline’s feet touched the rocky ground of the shore. Heedless of sharp rocks that dug painfully into her soles, she ran to the grassy bank where she fell to her hands and knees and gasped for breath. She had done it. She was safe. The soldiers were dead and she hadn’t drowned. At long last, they were safe.
“The last soldier?” she asked, lifting her head in panicked remembrance of the man who’d tried to run.
“Over there,” Kaeleth said, nodding toward the trees where the suggestion of a body lay incongruously among a patch of white and yellow meadow flowers.
A single arrow stood up from his back, striking Aline as a rigid and unnatural sort of flower towering above the delicate blossoms in the surrounding grass. The soldier didn’t appear to be moving, and Aline was overcome with a flush of anger toward the men who’d tried to take her. Men who’d killed Lady Gerda and the guards her father had sent as her escort. The same soldiers had killed Kaeleth’s father for attempting to intervene. Had even tried to kill Kaeleth himself.
“What of Eloric?”
Kaeleth looked down at her, clearly confused.
Aline unslung her boots from her neck, shifted to a sitting position, and swept a tangle of hair off her face. “The fifth man they sent for you. Did you escape him or…?”
“He’s dead.” Kaeleth turned and faced the river, gaze drifting upstream. “I have to fetch my father’s bow. I left it behind when I came to help you.”
“I suppose the danger is over if this is the last of them,” she said flatly. Her voice sounded as if someone else was speaking from very far away. “Where will we go now? Back to your village?”
“It’s too dangerous to return just yet. We have no way of knowing if there are more men waiting for us. I’d hoped to hide in these woods until they gave up their search, but I hadn’t anticipated them catching up so quickly. It should have taken them at least three days to reach this place. For all we know, more men are already on their way. It’s not safe to linger.”
“Where will we go? I’ve seen the mountains that hem us in here. If we can’t go back, and we can’t stay here, what option remains?”
Kaeleth dropped to his haunches and picked a piece of grass that he began shredding into small strands. Aline could tell he was thinking, and though the day was waning and she was anxious to be away from this river and the dead man laying behind her, she did not press for answers. The boy had grown up in these woods. If there was a haven of safety to be found, he would be the one to lead her there.
“We have to cross the mountains,” he said, letting the last piece of shredded grass fall from his fingers. “There’s nothing for us if we go back. The only way to be sure we’re free from pursuit is to ensure we leave no sign of our passing. We can’t do that in the forest or meadows. It might be possible in the rock fields at the base of the mountains themselves.”
Aline looked upstream. From where they sat, the peaks of the tall mountains were blocked by the river canyon and the trees, though she didn’t need to see them to remember how stark and jagged they were. From the brief glimpses she’d caught during their hasty run to the rope bridge, she knew some of them were capped with snow even this late into the summer. There were similar mountains back home in Vhent. She’d only ever seen them from a great distance when the skies were clear enough for them to be visible from the castle towers. They stood like formidable sentinels, protecting the north from any potential invader. To her knowledge, no one had ever crossed those mountains. She couldn’t fathom how this boy expected the two of them to cross these.
But what else were they to do? Kaeleth’s concern that soldiers awaited them below rang true. They would expect her to come down eventually, possibly even offering a reward in every town for a hundred miles or more. She didn’t know what lay beyond the mountains, but if it would give them a chance at escaping, it was worth the risk. From there they could hopefully find horses and journey… where exactly? Home to Vhent where her father might simply turn her around and send her to Prince Dainéal with a full complement of soldiers to ensure she wasn’t ambushed a second time? Marriage to a complete stranger was the last thing she wanted to think about. If she could have her way, she’d return to her father’s castle and never again venture from the security of its stout walls. She’d had her fill of adventure and would devote herself to a lifetime of service to the Goddess if it meant a roof over her head and never having to worry about where her next meal might come from.
But she knew her father only too well. If she was not bundled up and sent to Prince Dainéal, it would be some other strange man. And the journey back to Vhent was a long and difficult one. She hadn’t the first notion of how to book passage on a ship without trading on her true identity as a princess of one of the most prosperous nations in all of Tellen. If there were no agents of the magus waiting in port, she’d still face the very real risk of being taken captive and held for ransom by some other opportunistic brigand.
“Very well,” she said, all too aware she was giving consent where it had not been asked for. “I trust you to lead us to safety.”
Kaeleth nodded, then walked off toward the log bridge to fetch his bow and the boots he had left sitting on the far shore. Aline didn’t watch him cross. Instead, she mustered the energy to stand and went to inspect the fallen soldier. He didn’t appear to be breathing. Had she not been barefoot, she’d have nudged him with the toe of her boot. Instead, she bent to retrieve the sword the man had dropped when he’d fallen. The sword was lighter than she’d anticipated, and she used it to prod him in the arm and then in the side. He remained motionless.
Moving the tip of the sword to the exposed skin of his neck—which was darker than even the most tanned of men she’d ever seen—she pressed inward until she felt resistance. Unlike the dagger, the sword’s edge was too broad to easily pierce his skin. A single bead of blood welled up beneath the tip, shining like a dark ruby in the sun. Aline allowed herself a brief moment of fantasy in which she lifted the sword and hacked the man’s head from his body, but in the end, she simply let the sword fall to the grass. No violence she could inflict could make this man any more dead than he already was.
Contemplating the journey ahead, Aline considered how useful the man’s cloak might be. Then her gaze fell on the dagger at his side. Steeling her resolve, she bent to untie the cloak from the soldier’s neck and then began stripping him of anything useful. This meant heaving him onto his back so she could untie his belt, and when she rolled him over, the arrow in his back snapped in two, pushing the finely honed tip further out of his chest. His tunic looked nicer than her own, but it was too blood-soaked for her to consider taking it. The trousers, however, looked like they’d be a better fit than those Kaeleth had given her. After unfastening his belt, and setting the pouch and sheathed dagger aside, she began the unpleasant business of pulling the man’s trousers down. He wore no smallclothes, and the sight of his manhood poking out from a patch of coarse black hair made her quickly avert her gaze. With considerable difficulty, she was able to pull the trousers down to his knees, at which point they came more easily free.
Having liberated the trousers, she scanned the riverbank for her companion. Kaeleth hadn’t yet returned to the bridge, so she took the trousers into the privacy of the nearby trees and changed into them. Where Kaeleth’s had been too small, these were too large, though ultimately more comfortable. She rolled the legs up until they no longer brushed the ground, then tied the drawstring as tight as she could in order to keep them from falling off her slender hips. Thinking of the snow atop the mountain peaks, she didn’t discard the old trousers, deciding that she could wear both together to stay warm.
Aline returned to the soldier and collected the cloak and belt with pouch and dagger. She took these to where her boots lay, then fastened the belt around her waist. It seemed prudent to inspect the contents of the pouch, but her usual curiosity was nowhere to be found. Instead, she drew the dagger experimentally, sheathed and repositioned it on her hip, then drew it again and imagined plunging it into the heart of the next man who threatened her. When she was satisfied she could produce the knife quickly enough even with her cloak hanging over her shoulders, she donned her boots and went to the edge of the stream to drink her fill while waiting for Kaeleth to rejoin her.
When he did eventually return, he took one look at her new trousers and the knife on her hip, then went past her to where the body lay. Aline watched from a distance as Kaeleth drew his own knife and knelt beside the soldier. For a moment she thought he might sever the man’s head just as she’d imagined doing herself, but he only made a quick cut at the man’s neck, then lifted a small leather pouch free of the man’s tunic. She noticed for the first time that Kaeleth had bound the two smallest fingers of his hand together with strips of cloth and that his chin was mottled with angry red scratches.
“His purse,” Kaeleth explained when she came to stand a few paces away. “Of little use now, but we’ll need the coin once we reach Ardvig on the far side of the mountains.”
The sun had arced far across the sky in the hours since their interrupted meal. Aline shielded her eyes with her hand and looked to the sky, guessing nightfall to be only a few hours distant. Already she craved sleep. Bone-weary and ravenous, she did not know where she would find the will to trudge uphill again. She longed for the campsite by the rocks, and the bounty of the gentle stream beside which the remains of her foraged food lay abandoned. Going back meant crossing the log bridge, however. Faced with that, she was only too happy to march back up the trail down which she’d been forced at sword-point. When they reached the rope bridge, Kaeleth used his knife to sever the two handlines before sawing through the thicker bottom rope. Though it meant destroying their best avenue of escape should they be forced to retreat this way, she could think of no greater threat than that of more soldiers pursuing from below.
“There are storm clouds on the horizon,” Kaeleth said when he’d finished. “The river is already running high from late-season snowmelt higher up the slopes, so the rain will make the lower bridge uncrossable.”
Aline couldn’t find the energy to even nod in acknowledgment. Even donning both pairs of trousers and huddling beneath the soldier’s cloak wouldn’t protect her from a heavy enough rain. The notion of spending a night out in such conditions was nearly enough to make her cry, but for this too, she was too tired to do anything but resist the urge to sit down and never rise again.
“There’s a place we might find shelter,” Kaeleth said. “But we’ll have to walk a ways yet.”
The sun dipped below the trees while they walked. Twilight settled in, transforming the bright and airy forest into a gloomy twilight prison. Rocks and roots became more difficult to see, and Aline found herself tripping and stumbling as she had on that first day of running from the soldiers. Had it really only been three days prior? Riding in the carriage with Lady Gerda felt as if it had been another lifetime. She remembered little of the journey to Kaeleth’s house, but everything that had followed was a nightmare she was not keen to endure again. She wanted no more of sleeping beneath trees or on pine boughs that did little to cushion against the rocky ground beneath. A fire was warm enough on the parts of her that faced it, but did nothing to prevent the nighttime chill from seeping into those bits of her facing away from the flames. Sleeping in the dirt would be more tolerable with the eiderdown coverlet and pillow from her room back home. Any bit of comfort would be welcome. Even a clean nightgown. Or a bath. How lovely it would be to sink into a tub of hot water and scented oil. When she was once again returned to civilization, the first thing she’d do was soak until her skin was as wrinkled as an end-of-winter apple that had been forgotten at the bottom of the barrel.
Darkness fell without her noticing. The first raindrops followed not long after. A light shower became a steady downpour, wind howling through the trees and blowing the rain at an angle that stung her cheeks. As predicted, she quickly became wet and cold even with the soldier’s extra cloak wrapped around her.
Kaeleth stopped and turned toward her, shouting to be heard over the rain. “Shelter isn’t far. We must press on.”
So press on she did. Her boots filled with water, and the poor excuse for a path they’d been following became thick with mud that sucked at her feet and made walking that much more tedious. Aline fell into a sort of miserable walking sleep, too weary to even dream of blankets and hot baths. The forest was now so dark, she could only see the outline of Kaeleth’s cloaked head and shoulders when he was within arm’s reach. The occasional flash of lightning arced across the sky, staining her vision with vibrant splintered after-images. At first, the cracking peals of thunder had startled her. Now she barely registered them when they clapped alongside the lightning.
“In here,” Kaeleth said, gesturing toward a dark patch in a wall of grey stone so dark it was nearly black.
Aline had to stoop to enter the cave, but once inside the ceiling curved upward, allowing her to stand without bumping her head. The inside was black as pitch. Once free of the rain splashing in through the entrance, she stood in place. Pulling the hood from her head made no difference to her blindness, but it did allow her to hear Kaeleth shuffling around. This persisted for a very long time before the familiar scratch of steel on sparkrock was followed by an eruption of light so brilliant she threw a hand up and turned her face away to protect her eyes.
When at last she could see without squinting, Aline took in a sight she could not believe. Kaeleth had found a lantern, and in its light she beheld the unimaginable. At the rear of the cave was a large chest from which Kaeleth had already withdrawn several large furs. Not far from the chest was a fire ring, above which was suspended nothing less than an iron cook pot hanging from a metal tripod. Pieces of wood had been cut into simple stools, and there was even a large and sturdy table. The table was stained dark brown in more places than it wasn’t, and Aline’s exhausted mind slowly put the pieces together.
“A hunter’s shelter,” she said.
“There’s wood for a fire, but nothing to cook over it,” Kaeleth said. “But there is a small pot we can use to collect rainwater. Perhaps tomorrow we can forage enough for a simple soup. There’s maybe a half hour’s worth of oil in this lamp, then no more, I’m afraid.”
“Let’s worry about that when the sun rises,” Aline said, going to the chest to pull out the hide of what looked like a large deer. “I’m content to wrap myself in furs and sleep for a night and a day.”
“Agreed.”
There was only one large skin, so they spread it on the ground at the back of the cave and lay on it together. Soaked through as they were, they huddled together for warmth, covering themselves in every bit of fur from inside the chest. Despite the shivering that would not abate, Aline closed her eyes and was asleep before Kaeleth blew out the lamp.
