Mina, Edvard, and Yuila encounter a blind traveler on their journey, who sees a little too closely into them.
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It was an unnatural night for sleeping, and they awoke early, just as the moons were drifting off to the horizon. Mina lay still near the cold fire pit and watched the heavenly orbs fading slowly, a little more at ease when she saw that Edvard too was awake and watching for sunlight to rise and burn off the fog.
By the time the first rays of sunlight had made a bleary, glowing appearance in the sky, they had broke camp and were packing. As soon as they could see the trade road, Edvard headed them to it. Even the horses and Makka were ready to move out.
Mina sat behind Edvard on the gelding, a little achy and tired, the week and a half of sleeping on the ground in the chill air catching up with her. She had never been a camping-out person, but she was sure getting her fill of it now. She looked to where Yuila was riding the mare a little closer than usual, the fog still hanging in spots on the road.
By midmorning the fog had disappeared, to be replaced by a hot, muggy day with not a hint of breeze. They traveled in silence, and even Yuila's humming was only intermittent. They wove in and out of the shadows as clumps of trees dotted the trade road now amongst the grassland. The river had departed, and, according to the map, would near them again before they reached the fork that split off to the secondary road.
But not until the next day, Edvard had told them. They traveled alone on the road until after noon, when they saw another figure in the distance. The horses became alert at the other form ahead of them, cautious and sniffing the air. Mina's hold tightened unconsciously on Edvard in front of her and Yuila veered the mare closer to the gelding.
After another hour they could see the figure ahead of them was on foot, moving at a slower pace. Edvard halted and dismounted, and had Mina move into the saddle on Neito.
"Don't worry," he told her. He took a scabbard from a pack on the mule and buckled it at his waist, then took the reins to the gelding. "I'll lead."
Mina decided not to argue the point, shifting into the saddle seat. She looked anxiously to the figure in the distance. "Is something wrong, Edvard?"
He shook his head. "Just a precaution."
Tension settled over the three as they neared the lone figure ahead of them. As they approached, after a few more hours, Mina could see the man was thin and crooked, leaning on a walking stick, and wavering in the road. Yuila had let the mare hang back until she was abreast of the mule. Without thinking, Mina's hands gathered the reins as the gap between them and the man ahead of them closed. When they were still several yards away, the man halted and turned to them.
"Well, be you friends?" the lanky fellow asked, pulling his hood back a little to expose an aged, gaunt face. He didn't look at any of them directly.
"Yes," Edvard said, cautiously appraising the older man.
"Good. I've had enough of thieves." He wobbled as he leaned on the walking stick.
"Didn't you have a donkey yesterday?" Edvard asked. Mina looked to him with a frown.
"Aye, but that was yesterday. Company, since then."
She tried to get a better view of the stranger, pulling her hood back some.
Edvard nodded. "Who stole your beast?"
The man shrugged, rising briefly to his full height, a good head taller than Edvard. "Traders, I assume. Took the donkey and my water."
Edvard glanced to Mina, then motioned for her to bend nearer. "He's blind," he said in her ear when she leaned to him. "I saw him with a donkey yesterday, passing camp."
She nodded. "We have water in the mule's canteen."
"Who's that you have with you?" The old man's eyes wandered wildly. "One? Two? A woman, I warrant."
Yuila moved the mare up beside Mina as Edvard took the canteen from Makka. She pulled her hood closer, nodding to the old man's bony hands. The one that held the walking stick wore a leather cord from which hung a spoon and bowl.
"Where are you going, friend?" the man asked.
Edvard met him with the canteen. "We have water, if you're in need."
"Aye, so I am." The man offered the bowl dangling from his wrist. "Name is Bersi. Have you names? Any you want to share?"
Edvard looked to Mina and Yuila, and then shook his head as he filled the man's bowl with water. "Just travelers."
"I see." He drank all the water and held the bowl out in Edvard's general direction. "Names don't matter much on the road, now do they?" He drank the next bowlful of water Edvard poured him.
"Where are you going?" Edvard asked, putting the top on the canteen.
"Ah, Ditimar."
"How will you know when to turn off the road?"
"The donkey knew."
Edvard glanced at Mina and shrugged.
Without any agreement, they found themselves accompanying the old man on the trade road. Mina decided it didn't much matter if they traveled with him or separate, they were still going in the right direction.
The old man was bent and ragged, his clothes little more than rags, and his gait unsteady. After a few moments of watching the man's uneven steps, Mina halted the gelding. Edvard looked to her as she dismounted, fighting with her skirts for a moment.
"Maybe he should ride," she said lowly to Edvard.
He looked to the old man who had come to a stop.
"It is a woman." Bersi made a half-bow. "Milady."
"Why don't you ride?" Edvard said to him, still eyeing Mina. "The road's pocked."
"Well, that it is."
It took a few moments of awkwardness, but the old man was eventually sitting on Neito's back. The gelding flattened his ears at the new rider, chomping on his bit as Mina held the reins at his side.
Bersi grinned. "Thank you, folks."
Edvard and Mina walked at the horse's head, with Yuila trailing close beside.
Bersi looked over at the Crone, his eyes unfocused in her direction. "And who be you?"
Yuila glanced to Edvard and he shook his head. "Another traveler," he said.
"I see."
Bersi managed to carry the conversation through the afternoon, and, to Mina's surprise, still had nothing to say. It didn't seem to matter to the old man that none of them actually added much, that he was doing all the talking. He seemed content enough with their company, even if no names were offered.
They did learn he had been robbed only last night, his donkey taken in what he described as a thick and clammy night. It was an accurate term for a blind man's foggy night, Mina decided. They stopped at the fork where the second road departed for Ditimar, and Edvard took Mina to one side as they let the horses rest.
He looked back to where Yuila stayed with the reins to the gelding as she still sat on the mare's back, peeking out from her hood at them.
"We should take him to Ditimar," he said to Mina.
"Won't it put us behind?" She looked to where the old man was trying to strike up a conversation with Yuila.
"Another day won't matter. He did have a donkey. I saw him, and it'll put a little time between us and whoever robbed him." He watched her eyes rest on Yuila. "I don't think he's a threat, Mina."
She nodded. "But I don't have to ride with him, do I?'
He grinned. "Not unless you want to."
She sighed. "I certainly do not."
"Okay. We'll camp in another hour, and we can stock up on supplies in Ditimar tomorrow."
"Okay."
"And I guess it wouldn't hurt to give our names,” he added. “It won't say anything about us."
"It might you."
Edvard frowned. "How?"
"Isn't he going to know you're Sammis' son?"
"I doubt it." He looked back to where Yuila was nodding an answer at the old man. "It wouldn't matter if he did."
Their names meant nothing to Bersi, but he thanked them for sharing. He was even more grateful that they agreed to accompany him to the next village, and happier yet to learn they had sausage to share for supper later that day.
Mina pulled the last bedroll from Makka as Edvard unstrapped the bags from Sova, glancing to where the old man sat at the fire with Yuila. The blind traveler was indeed a sporadic fellow, with his half-formed ideas he thought were sentences and assortment of eating utensils and cookware hanging from his wrists and belt. He had told them the donkey was his most cherished possession of eight years, and that they had traversed the trade road to deliver woad bales from village to village. He was supposed to pick up a load to take back to the weavers and dyers in Pantia, but without his beast of burden, would have to lodge with his nephew in Ditimar for a month.
Not a problem, he had assured them, but he did like to travel, and his donkey was good company, and knew the way better than he.
Edvard left Mina and Yuila with the old man off the road where they made camp long enough to water the horses and mule and let them graze where the water pooled from the river tributary.
Mina looked after Edvard, then to where the smaller pot of water was nearly boiling over the fire. Yuila had collected a basket of medium size tomatoes and a small pumpkin from beside the river inlet and then returned to the water with her fishing basket.
She glanced across the fire at the old man, watching his eyes wander independently. She had noticed his mouth moved as if he were chewing much of the time, and for a while thought he was going to speak, but he did not. She also saw that he had no teeth. When the water was boiling, she dropped in two tomatoes.
"So," Bersi said, looking in her direction, "which one of you is the Crone?"
She caught her breath at the question, then looked up as Edvard came to the fire.
"Why would you think one is a Crone?" he asked the old man, looking questioningly to Mina.
She shook her head at his silent inquiry.
"Well, there are few reasons to deny giving a name, even to a stranger." The old man scratched himself for a moment. "People get mighty touchy about Crones. It seemed like there may be one with you."
Edvard gave Mina a cautious look as he cut apart the rabbit he had snared at the riverside. "We're just private people."
"I see."
Mina dipped the tomatoes out of the water and put them in Bersi's bowl. She slipped off the skins that had cracked in the hot water and cut the pulp up with his spoon.
"We'll have a proper meal a little later," she told him.
"Many thanks," he said, raising the bowl to his face and smelling it.
Mina watched him blow on the stewed tomatoes, sampling them, and commenting at her thoughtfulness at having peeled them, and what a pleasure it was to have company. After a moment, she couldn't bear to watch him gum the pulpy vegetables any longer and went to see how Yuila was doing at the river.
"That one," Bersi said, nodding in the direction Mina had gone, "who is she?"
Edvard looked after Mina, then to the old man. "A fellow traveler."
"She sounds different. What does she look like?"
Edvard was taken aback at the odd request. "Well, long black hair, dark eyes," he said with a shrug, wanting to say more, but not wanting to at the same time. "Green dress. Why?"
"Pretty?"
"Yes." Edvard cleared his throat. "Why?"
The old man's eyes softened and his thin lips sagged in a smile. "It's been a long time since I've seen pretty. My memory is faded of beauty."
Edvard nodded. "She is very pretty," he said after a moment. He put the rabbit pieces into the second larger pot of water Mina had started.
"Is she the Crone? Is that why you keep her hooded?" He chuckled. "Or so that no one will know which is the Crone? Or are they both?"
Edvard studied the old man's faded eyes, estimating his blindness. "If I were keeping her hidden, would I answer you that?"
Bersi shook his head, stirring his tomatoes. "I suppose not."
"How do you know she wears a hood?"
"Voices, they're all different. Height, distance, fear, a smile. It's all there. You can hear a hood as well as a veil," he said with a sigh.
Edvard looked to where Mina had waded into the water a short ways with Yuila. He wondered how beauty sounded to a blind man.
PG13, saga; teen, fantasy, fantasy world travel, teen romance, clean romance, realm, magical realism, shadow world, school/new school, high school, fiction, serial. #ReadFree with free signup. ♫♪
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Thanks to P.G. Waters for the use of her story!