The Lord Son's Travels (35 page)

“We
don’t need to go around,” she said quietly.
 
He finally turned and faced her directly.
 
She added quickly, “This won’t be easy,
but we can get over those mountains.”

“How?”
he demanded.
 
She smiled.
 
“Well, we’ll need good strong rope,
some clips, some packs to carry our gear…”
 

He
was staring at her like she had announced that they could visit the moon on the
way.
 
“You know how to cross
these?”

“Sure.
 
I love climbing.
 
I used to go all of the time.”
 
She laughed at his look of
surprise.
 
“Repelling, too.
 
I studied rocks in school, and that's
the kind of place you go to find the most interesting ones. I always
volunteered to go out with the teams to get samples.”
 
Adrien needed more convincing than that.
 
He had never heard of anyone willingly
going up into the heights of the mountains.
  
“Climbing isn’t hard; I can show you guys the ropes
pretty quickly I think.
 
That looks
like a pretty good pass there: I think most of the time we’ll just be doing
some steep hiking.
 
I’m pretty sure
we won’t run into many monsters or armies up there.
 
Come on, this part could actually be kind of fun."

Adrien
thought quickly.
 
She seemed
confident in her skills, and their other options were limited.
 
“What equipment do you need?”
  
She described the basic
rock-climbing gear.
 
They had a
good supply of rope on the ship; the clips, slings and other gear were more
difficult.
 
“The clips aren’t very
complicated, but I don’t know if they are something we can find lying
around.
 
Same with the slings I’d
like to use for safety.
 
New boots,
too, with good tread.”

Adrien
pondered this.
 
“Perhaps we can
sail south until we find a small village with a blacksmith and
leathersmith.
 
Could they make what
you require?”

“Sure,
nothing I need is very complicated to make.
 
Wouldn’t that catch their attention, though?”

“Yes,
but if we offer no idea how we will use it, no one would guess our
purpose.”
 
He frowned.
 
“I’ve never heard of anyone willfully
entering the mountains.”

Elenna
shrugged and smiled.
 
“Well, that
only gives us more reason to do it.
 
No one will ever think to follow us that way.”
 
She glanced over her shoulder.
 
“Our host is coming over.
 
Ask him about a local village.”

The
group gathered for a light breakfast and conversation.
 
Adrien drew for Elmaer a map of the way
through Angor to the Allé-dônian border.
 
They exchanged final tidbits of advice on their opposing roads, then
split to arrange for the change in traveling modes.
 
Elmaer and his family transferred their meager portable belongings
into the saddlebags of the horses, while Elenna, Adrien, and Brendan settled
their gear in the main room of the barge.
 
Before the sun was fully cleared over the mountains, everyone was ready
to continue their journeys.
 
They
gathered at the foot of the downhill path to say their goodbyes.

“Keep
from the main roads,” Brendan reminded Elmaer.
 
He glanced at his friend, then asked for a scrap of
paper.
 
Mae produced one from her
saddlebag.
 
Brendan scribbled a
note.
 
“My mother… serves the Lord
of Wellect.
 
Give this paper to any
of the guardsmen of the main gates of the border and you’ll find refuge there.”

“Many
thanks, good sir,” the refugee bowed quickly. The recent noblemen of Allé-dôn
returned the bow, and watched as the family carefully led their new mounts up
the narrow, rocky path.
 
At the
top, they waved and disappeared.

“Lady
guide them,” Brendan sighed as they turned to face their new
transportation.
 
“What shall we do
with this fine vessel?"

“Elenna
has a plan,” Adrien replied absently.
   

Brendan
raised his eyebrows.
 
“Elenna has a
plan?
 
Do tell.”
 
Adrien explained the idea.
 
Elenna listened to his description,
adding a few details when needed.
 
When they were finished, Brendan turned to gaze at the high hills, and
shook his head.

“That
is too dangerous.
 
We’ll not make
it through the peaks.”

Elenna
turned to face him, hands on hips.
 
“And what would be your better idea?”

He
paused in reflection.
 
“We go south
along the river to another pass.”

“There
are none until the Southern Border, which is held by Skranteen’s armies.”
Adrien answered him.
 
He climbed
the rickety ladder over the boat’s side and surveyed his surroundings.
 
“Untie us, Bren, and we’ll be on our
way.
 
We’ll see if we can find a
blacksmith to fix your tools, Elenna.
 
If I had a choice, it would be for a different path, but the Lady has
seen fit to offer us no other way.”
 
Brendan watched, dumbfounded, as Adrien climbed up to the pilot’s box to
steer the boat into the river’s current.
 
He turned to face his other companion. Elenna only shrugged, smiled, and
disappeared below decks to inspect the piles of rope she had spotted abandoned
in a corner of the hold.
 
Brendan
paced about the deck for a few minutes watching anxiously as the boat caught
the current and slipped into the center of the river. Then he settled into the
watchmen’s seat in the fore of the boat.

By
afternoon, Brendan had taken a short turn at the steering wheel and, after a
few near-misses with underwater rocks, returned it to its preferred
captain.
  
He joined Elenna
downstairs to help her hunt for any bits of leather or metal left on their
craft that could be useful.
 
She
found enough leather to make a few rough straps, and enough nails to turn a few
pairs of ordinary boots suitable for climbing.
 
She drew a couple of diagrams of the harnesses they needed,
all the while telling Brendan stories of the weekends she had spent with
friends climbing in the mountains north of her home.
 
He listened, fascinated as usual by stories of her
home.
 
She was as relaxed as he had
seen her since the battle with the monsters.
 
It had been a long time since he had seen a real smile cross
her face.
 
She had even taught him
the words to a favorite song of hers, which they had sung together loudly while
perched on the stern of the boat.
 
He had wondered at the impropriety of giving a boat a person’s name, but
“Proud Mary” was a catchy tune.
 
Adrien kept to himself all afternoon, which Brendan noted but did not
ponder too deeply.
 
It wasn't that
unusual for his friend to keep to himself for hours.

They
stopped and tied up at a half-submerged tree for the night as dusk approached.
As Brendan and Elenna worked together to fix dinner, Adrien disappeared into
the captain’s room.
 
The barge had
been designed to be manned by a captain and crew of four for its business of
trade up and down the river.
 
The
captain had his own small chamber, with a narrow bed and desk of his own.
 
The others had shared a slightly larger
room with a collection of small pallets stuffed with straw.
 
Between them was the galley; with the
only stove for cooking and heating, and a sturdy wood table and a small
window.
 
Here they had set their
gear when they had departed that morning, and where dinner had been laid out.
 
They perched on the hard wooden benches
on either side of the table, silently picking at their meals, each lost in
their own thoughts.

“What
have you found today to help with our climbing?” Adrien inquired suddenly.
 
Elenna jumped up, surprised by the
invasion of his voice into her thoughts.
 
Then she described the equipment she had hobbled together so far.
 
He listened intently, as she described
her plans for the climb.

“All
this you learned at your school?” he asked when she was finished.
 
She shook her head.
 
“What did you study at school?”

Elenna
didn’t answer at first, but studied his expression.
 
His question had been voiced in a careless tone, but his
bearing was impatient for a response in a way she had never experienced from
him before.
 
His eyes had always
struck her by their unusual shade of grey, which she sometimes idly thought of
as attractive.
 
Today they were
darkened for some reason she couldn't explain.

“I
studied all sorts of things.
 
Literature, music…”

“What
else?
 
What is this geology you
spoke of before?”
 
She tightened
her lips as she met his invasive gaze.

Finally
she answered adamantly, “I told you, types of rocks, things like that.”
 
Adrien’s expression grew even
darker.
 
Suddenly he jumped from
his seat, knocking his water cup to the ground.
 
Brendan rose halfway from his bench before his companion
motioned him down.
 
Adrien slipped
around the table to crouch down to the side of her chair.
 
Elenna forced herself to keep her gaze
even and unconcerned as he bore down on her.

“Once
you berated me for not telling you all of the truth.
 
What secrets are you…”

“What
are you saying!” Elenna tried to rise from her seat as well but he blocked her
escape with his own mass.
 
She
glared up at him with fists balled.
 
“Do you think I’m hiding something, after all we’ve been through
together?”

“You’ve
lied to me.
 
To us!” he thundered in
return.
 
His face flushed red as
Elenna’s turned white.
 

“What
the hell are you talking about?” she stuttered.
 
Without a word, Adrien rose up and strode off to the
captain’s office.
 
Elenna turned
around to glare at Brendan.
 
“What
is he doing?”

“I
don’t know,” he answered, eyebrows furled, keeping his eye on the doorway.
 
He had no idea how to react when Adrien
reappeared carrying a large colorful book.
 
He gaped at it with horror as Adrien slammed it on the table
between them.
 
“What kind of magic
is this?
 
Are you a witch?”

“You
went into my backpack!” Elenna sputtered.
 
Wide-eyed, she glared up into his furious expression.
 

“As
well I did!
 
I had no idea of the
evil that traveled with me.”
 
She
leaned over the table to grab her organic textbook.
 
Furiously she flipped through the pages to show him the
print. “Its only a book!
 
I’m not a
witch!”

“Skranteen
himself could not take a dead man’s face to keep in his magic books!
 
What other foul magics have you done or
intend?”
 
A shocked pause, then
Elenna shook her head violently in denial.
 
She couldn't even get any words out to defend herself; she
was too blasted into silence by the unexpected accusations.

“Adrien,
what by the Lady’s name…” Brendan started.
 
Instinctively he moved between his warring companions.

“Look!”
Adrien ordered.
 
He shoved the book
towards Brendan.
 
With obvious
reluctance Brendan lifted the cover.
 
The book fell open to a page with a few pictures of historical chemists smiling
up at him.
 
He blanched and turned
to Elenna, who he still held by the arm protectively.

“What
is this?” he whispered as he backed away from the images.
 
She turned from man to man, confused by
their terrified expressions.

“It’s
a photo!
 
God, you think somehow
these are real people’s faces?”
 
As
she voiced the words she remembered documentaries she had seen about people in
the developing world afraid of the filmmakers' cameras.
 
Of all the reasons she had hid her
modern supplies in the backpack, she had never dreamt of this scenario.