Rook had sensed something in her, an unease, maybe a sadness. Whichever it was, he had suggested a ride. There is just something about a ride on the plains that will calm the heart and soul of a Tuchuk, like nothing else. No words, no embraces, no platitudes will do it, only the freedom of the wind on your face, the freshness of the air, and the vast panorama of pasang upon pasang of grass can calm their souls.
While he saddled the kaiila, she had gone and put together a meal for them of slices of cold tabuk, cheese and flatbread. Gathering up botas of water, she had returned and divided her bounty between their two beasts. They wound their way though the wagons, nodding at those that lifted a hand in greeting, not really talking much. As they left the final circle of wagons, the rode along side the herd, speaking of how lean they were looking, and that it was time to get them to taller grass. But it was gratifying to see the millions of the animals picking their way though what grass there was, and also a pride. That pride that all people of the plains feel at being the caretakers of such great animals. Seeing Loch, she broke from Rook long enough to ride over to him, to steal a few kisses from that man that held her heart so tenderly. There was a promise of being cautious, of staying close to Rook, and of some quiet time together that night. As she rode back towards Rook, she turned more than once just to watch him as he watched the bosk.
As they rode past that massive gathering of bosk, she finally spoke to Rook, telling him of the unease of her sleeping hours, confusing dreams, and this feeling that she had that something was not quite right in that little ordered world of hers. He did not say much, simply listened. He did not chide her for foolishness, or offer her words of comfort, he just listened, nodding from time to time. And to be honest, that was what she needed, someone that would listen, someone that would allow her to unburden her heart and mind, and truly listen.
It was turning out to be a beautiful day, the sun warm on them as they rode. She had unwound the windscarf, and turned her face up to the rays of the Central Fire, drinking its' rays into her soul through her flesh. Already she was beginning to feel better, not exactly calm, but better. Rook told her of a place upstream from the harigga where he had set some traps for small animals that had the softest fur that was used for lining the insides of hats, and made good sleeping furs for children. He often trapped them, and traded the furs for other things he needed. The ride was companionable, two people that had grown very close, enjoying the day.
Coming up over a small rise, they stopped and she could see a shallow valley that sloped down towards the stream. He took the lead and they picked their way along, headed towards the water. At the stream, they dismounted, and she stayed with the kaiila as they drank while he went to check his traps. She saw him squat for a time, then stand up to turn his head to look in all directions as if he were searching for something. When he returned to her, she could not read his expression, but she just got the impression that he was concerned of something. When she asked about his traps, he said simply that someone had gotten to them. Not something, but someone. She pressed him, and he said that the traps were sprung, there was blood on them, but no game. She pondered on this for a moment, as he mounted and looked around. Could they just have escaped? To her, that was the most logical of answers. He said nothing as she lifted up into the saddle. He began to ride along the bank, watching the ground to either side of them.
They came to a small grove of precious trees, not something that was unheard of, but something that was a rarity of sorts. Even she recognized the slim trunk of one of the younger ones sticking up from the earth, only a small stump to be honest. When they approached, he cautioned her to stay close. At the edge of the small copse of trees there was the remains of a small camp. He dismounted and stood for a time just looking around. She also slipped from her saddle, and looked around. What she saw actually brought a mist of tears to her eyes. One thing that disturbed her, was that whoever had been here had been burning wood. Why? Why would one of them burn wood, they knew the value of it, the preciousness of it. But even more disturbing was the carcasses of small animals that had been stripped of their skins that lay to one side. If they were inedible, why not feed them to the kaiila? All of this made those fine hairs along the nape of her neck stand up and tingle, and a coldness came to the pit of her stomach.
Rook knelt, removed his gloves and held a hand over the ashes of the fire. Standing up, he looked around and spoke with an urgency that she did not ignore. "Mount up and ride, quickly." She did not question him. With speed and agility she mounted her kaiila, turned him and put her heels to his flanks and began to ride in the direction from whence they had come. Rook was at her side, telling her that the ashes were still warm, and no Tuchuk would have left a camp like that. This was all she needed to make her spur the animal faster. A flash of conversation from a few nights prior came to her. Words of Garyx saying that there were signs of raiders about, that he and his men would be out looking to see if it was truth.
Raiders, this close to the herd and the harigga? Just the thought of it was enough to keep her going. The two of them were in a precarious position, out here alone away from the ones that rode the perimeter of the herds. It was only a small measure of relief to see the black bodies of the bosk, the mounted outriders riding along beside them. Part of her wanted to seek Lochlan out again, to find safety with him, but it was almost as if Rook was reading her mind. "Ride. Do not stop!" She would not disobey. She would ride until she was back within the safe confines of the wagons. He rode with her until those outer circles were reached, then and only then, did he turn his beast and move towards the outriders, to speak with them.
She looked back only once, slowed her beast in caution of being around so many people again, but she did not stop until she reached the pens. Pulling her kaiila to a stop, she sat for a few moments, breathing hard, trying to push the panic that she was feeling down. Gabe saw her, came to hold the animals head and take the reins from her as she dropped from the saddle, landing on small booted feet. His brow lifted, and she said nothing, but ran towards her wagons. That maternal instinct was high in her as she sought to make sure her son was safe. Part of her knew he was, but there was that other part that just had need of holding him in her arms, of covering the top of his dark little head with kisses, of making sure he was indeed safe.
There are three things that truly stir fear in the hearts of the mighty Tuchuk. Fire, hard winds with sand, and raiders. Strangers bent on causing them harm.
While he saddled the kaiila, she had gone and put together a meal for them of slices of cold tabuk, cheese and flatbread. Gathering up botas of water, she had returned and divided her bounty between their two beasts. They wound their way though the wagons, nodding at those that lifted a hand in greeting, not really talking much. As they left the final circle of wagons, the rode along side the herd, speaking of how lean they were looking, and that it was time to get them to taller grass. But it was gratifying to see the millions of the animals picking their way though what grass there was, and also a pride. That pride that all people of the plains feel at being the caretakers of such great animals. Seeing Loch, she broke from Rook long enough to ride over to him, to steal a few kisses from that man that held her heart so tenderly. There was a promise of being cautious, of staying close to Rook, and of some quiet time together that night. As she rode back towards Rook, she turned more than once just to watch him as he watched the bosk.
As they rode past that massive gathering of bosk, she finally spoke to Rook, telling him of the unease of her sleeping hours, confusing dreams, and this feeling that she had that something was not quite right in that little ordered world of hers. He did not say much, simply listened. He did not chide her for foolishness, or offer her words of comfort, he just listened, nodding from time to time. And to be honest, that was what she needed, someone that would listen, someone that would allow her to unburden her heart and mind, and truly listen.
It was turning out to be a beautiful day, the sun warm on them as they rode. She had unwound the windscarf, and turned her face up to the rays of the Central Fire, drinking its' rays into her soul through her flesh. Already she was beginning to feel better, not exactly calm, but better. Rook told her of a place upstream from the harigga where he had set some traps for small animals that had the softest fur that was used for lining the insides of hats, and made good sleeping furs for children. He often trapped them, and traded the furs for other things he needed. The ride was companionable, two people that had grown very close, enjoying the day.
Coming up over a small rise, they stopped and she could see a shallow valley that sloped down towards the stream. He took the lead and they picked their way along, headed towards the water. At the stream, they dismounted, and she stayed with the kaiila as they drank while he went to check his traps. She saw him squat for a time, then stand up to turn his head to look in all directions as if he were searching for something. When he returned to her, she could not read his expression, but she just got the impression that he was concerned of something. When she asked about his traps, he said simply that someone had gotten to them. Not something, but someone. She pressed him, and he said that the traps were sprung, there was blood on them, but no game. She pondered on this for a moment, as he mounted and looked around. Could they just have escaped? To her, that was the most logical of answers. He said nothing as she lifted up into the saddle. He began to ride along the bank, watching the ground to either side of them.
They came to a small grove of precious trees, not something that was unheard of, but something that was a rarity of sorts. Even she recognized the slim trunk of one of the younger ones sticking up from the earth, only a small stump to be honest. When they approached, he cautioned her to stay close. At the edge of the small copse of trees there was the remains of a small camp. He dismounted and stood for a time just looking around. She also slipped from her saddle, and looked around. What she saw actually brought a mist of tears to her eyes. One thing that disturbed her, was that whoever had been here had been burning wood. Why? Why would one of them burn wood, they knew the value of it, the preciousness of it. But even more disturbing was the carcasses of small animals that had been stripped of their skins that lay to one side. If they were inedible, why not feed them to the kaiila? All of this made those fine hairs along the nape of her neck stand up and tingle, and a coldness came to the pit of her stomach.
Rook knelt, removed his gloves and held a hand over the ashes of the fire. Standing up, he looked around and spoke with an urgency that she did not ignore. "Mount up and ride, quickly." She did not question him. With speed and agility she mounted her kaiila, turned him and put her heels to his flanks and began to ride in the direction from whence they had come. Rook was at her side, telling her that the ashes were still warm, and no Tuchuk would have left a camp like that. This was all she needed to make her spur the animal faster. A flash of conversation from a few nights prior came to her. Words of Garyx saying that there were signs of raiders about, that he and his men would be out looking to see if it was truth.
Raiders, this close to the herd and the harigga? Just the thought of it was enough to keep her going. The two of them were in a precarious position, out here alone away from the ones that rode the perimeter of the herds. It was only a small measure of relief to see the black bodies of the bosk, the mounted outriders riding along beside them. Part of her wanted to seek Lochlan out again, to find safety with him, but it was almost as if Rook was reading her mind. "Ride. Do not stop!" She would not disobey. She would ride until she was back within the safe confines of the wagons. He rode with her until those outer circles were reached, then and only then, did he turn his beast and move towards the outriders, to speak with them.
She looked back only once, slowed her beast in caution of being around so many people again, but she did not stop until she reached the pens. Pulling her kaiila to a stop, she sat for a few moments, breathing hard, trying to push the panic that she was feeling down. Gabe saw her, came to hold the animals head and take the reins from her as she dropped from the saddle, landing on small booted feet. His brow lifted, and she said nothing, but ran towards her wagons. That maternal instinct was high in her as she sought to make sure her son was safe. Part of her knew he was, but there was that other part that just had need of holding him in her arms, of covering the top of his dark little head with kisses, of making sure he was indeed safe.
There are three things that truly stir fear in the hearts of the mighty Tuchuk. Fire, hard winds with sand, and raiders. Strangers bent on causing them harm.
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