It was probably the longest walk she had ever taken. Even with Rook beside her for every step, she found that she would falter from time to time. Had it not been for that strong hand beneath her elbow, she might have turned and ran, shirked what she considered her duty.
When they arrived at the wagons of her brother Ephrim, his mate Anaya looked up, and that silent communication that some women share passed between them. Moving to the woman that had been surrogate mother to her after her own had died, they embraced, each trying to comfort the other, both trying to be strong. Finally Rook had drawn them to the fire, made them sit, and began to talk. He had spoken with the outrider that had come back from the plains.
"They found the camp about four days ride to the var of where the harigga was. From what they could tell, he had camped for the night, because the kaiila had been unsaddled, unbridled. There were the makings of a small fire, his favored mug in the cold ashes. The signs told them that he had be set upon by raiders of some kind. The hamstring of the kaiila had been severed, then it had been pierced through the heart and bled out. He had fought, because they only found two of the quiva in the sheath and there were no signs of the other five. They also found his bow and a quiver that only had two arrows left in it. The kills that he had made were left to rot.
It was odd that who had attacked him did not take the rest of his weapons, a serviceable saddle or the supplies. That told them it was not someone of the plains. People of the plains, regardless of the tribe, did not believe in such waste. But there were tharlarion tracks that were older, and kaiila tracks that seemed to be fresher. There was no sign of Trilok anywhere. They had even rode in widening circles the entire next day looking for tracks or some sign of him, but none was to be found."
When he finished, Ephrim had asked some questions, they all found it odd that the animal was killed, and that the saddle and supplies were left. It was odd to them. A puzzlement.
When she finally found her voice, it was soft, full of pain. She had failed in her promise to them to keep watch over him when he came to the first fires. She had failed them, herself and him. Ephrim reached over, and thwapped her gently on the head. "He is a man in his own right. You are not his mother, nor his keeper. None of this is your fault."
She could only nod, but that did not make her feel much better. She told them of what Tarra had said, that Trilok's heart still beat with the plains, that at his time, he was not dead. They knew of the spex's reputation, in fact they feared her to a point. But, she had offered hope, and for now they would cling to it.
During the telling of all of this, Hiram and his two middle sons had walked up to listen. They spoke with Rook to find out the names of the riders that had found the camp. Before morning they would have sought them out, garnered as much information as they could, and their own search would begin.
Ephrim had thanked them for coming to give news, he then chided Cana for not coming around more often, as did Anaya. She made promises to bring Tug by within the next few days. They then did what was the only thing left to do. They walked back to the small group of Noir wagons.
Rook, being who he was, had sent a rider to bring Loch in from patrol. When he came riding up, he was relieved to see she was unharmed, then angry for being called back to his wagons. Rook had taken him aside, talked to him for a long time, while she simply sat on the steps of her wagon, forcing herself not to cry, unable to get the memories of childhood games with her nephew from her head.
When Loch came to her, he was so gentle, caring. The strong arms wrapped around her, and finally she allowed herself to lean against him and cry, to show that weakness, she would hide from others. He held her, simply smoothing his hand down her braid. At one point, he told her that if his mother said Trilok was still alive, then she spoke the truth.
When she calmed, he carried her into the wagon, undressed her like she was a child and tucked her into the furs. She had looked up at him, assuming he was returning to patrol, only to see him shake his head. He had sent another to finish his shift, and he was not going to leave her along tonight. Undressing, he slid into the furs beside her, pulled her close and began to talk to her in that soft gentle way that he reserves just for her. In the safety of his embrace, she was finally able to relax, and to sleep.
The last words the muttered were........'"He lives, I know he does."
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