And when the first faint hint of light broke on the horizon, his hands joined the others as they frantically dug into the earth. No chanting now. Just hard breathing as they all worked.
The dirt was cold and heavy. “His head,” Essa commanded, and they centered their focus there.
The earth moved slowly, mounding to the side as they finally reached the leather cover. Quartis tugged it back against the heavy, moist dirt.
No white shroud. No Joden.
“He curled up,” Essa gasped, and they dug again, clearing and tugging until the entire leather cover was pulled back.
Essa sat back on his heels, and rubbed his eyes.
The grave was empty.
Joden’s body was not there.
Chapter Eight
Impulsive was one thing; stupid was another. Amyu was not stupid.
She climbed the rest of that day, up mountain paths as high as she could before searching for a place to sleep. In the fading light she found a place, protected by pine trees and a slight overhang of rock.
There was a small circle of stones under the overhang. There were cold ashes in the center and it clearly had not been used for some time. She made a very small fire, more for comfort than anything else, and sat to sort her supplies out, and think things through.
The small lantern was clever, just a metal cylinder with a door and holes throughout. The curved metal bowl at the bottom could burn wood or maybe even animal fat. There was a small stub of a fat candle; she’d have to conserve that for as long as possible.
She’d need food as well, and dug through the pack to check what she had. Bread, gurt, dried meat. A jar of sweetfat, a whet stone, and dried bloodmoss. A small sack of kavage beans, thank the elements. She’d hunt when she could, and eat lightly.
She untied the leather that sealed the jar, lifted it and sniffed. The sweet scent of Plains grasses filled her lungs. It eased a tightness in her shoulders that she hadn’t been aware of. She tightly sealed it up again, and placed it back in the pack.
Maybe she should establish a base camp? Amyu chewed on her lip, thinking. It would be good to be able to cache food and gear, with a secure place to sleep. But keeping everything with her gave her more freedom to roam further out.
Both ways offered benefits. She’d see what the next day brought, and then decide.
Her sword and dagger were sharp, and the blankets she’d brought would be warm enough. She had a waterskin, and basic cooking gear. Not that hard to spit a small animal over a fire.
She tore off a piece of dried meat, and ate as she packed the rest away. Her small fire flickered as she took a long drink and stared into the flames.
Now, as to her prey. For in truth, that was what she was doing. Stalking prey she had no knowledge of and had never seen.
So she’d treat it as any hunt. Airions were bird and horse in appearance. But all animals leave trails, so there would be droppings, and feathers shed. Claw marks perhaps on trees and stones. Maybe they marked their territory.
And the bird part, it would have to hunt. She closed her eyes and pictured the tapestry in her mind. That beak. As much as it had a horse’s head, that beak meant it was a meat eater. Which meant it was a hunter. It probably hunted from the sky, like a hawk.
Amyu pulled at the meat, and popped another piece in her mouth, chewing slowly.
The trees here were smaller, stunted, not as large as the ones in the valley. Unlikely that the creatures lived in trees, but she couldn’t ignore the possibility. ‘Up’ was something she’d have to remember.
Usek had warned of ‘bears and cats’, so she’d have to watch for predators.
The bigger question? Where to start.
Amyu finished the meat, and took a long drink of water. At least that was no worry; she could hear water running nearby in the quiet of the growing dusk.
A yawn caught her off guard, and a wave of weariness followed. She spread out her blankets, stripped off her leathers and weapons and piled them neatly beside her. Her sword and dagger came into the bedding with her, close at hand.
She settled in, folding her cloak as a pillow. It felt good, the gurtle pads beneath her cushioned the ground and she’d the pleasure of two blankets; the traditional gurtle fur of the Plains, and a warm woolen blanket of Xy. She wiggled about a bit, enjoying the feel of the cloth against her skin as her body heated her bedroll.
The fire flickered down to coals. She watched it with weary eyes.
