Rocalla's Saga: Arrival

28: The Road South of Mandelbroggen —

1054 Kyabalaka 7

Gorla turns to face me again, Mariyiybha’s blood dripping from her hands. I push myself onto my elbows and knees, not yet able to stand.

“Lay down, priestess,” Gorla hisses. “You’re finished.”

“I will make you pay for what you have done,” I say.

Gorla’s laughter mocks me. “You’ll rot in jail for the rest of whatever life you have. I hope that it’s a long and painful one.”

I struggle to my feet as Gorla steps forward.

As I rise, I feel a breeze caress my cheek, and an arrow buries itself in Gorla’s shoulder. She steps back, shock evident on her face.

“Rocalla, move!” Dierdra calls.

I dive down to my quarterstaff as another arrow flies toward Gorla. She jumps sideways, attempting to dodge the missile, but it still manages to tear a gash in her hip before embedding itself in the ground nearby. Gorla screams a command and retreats, fleeing with three of her guards. The three other guards that are still standing raise their arms and drop their weapons in surrender. Dierdra barks a command and they scatter.

Crawling on my hands and knees, I make my way over to Mariyiybha’s side. Her dress is stained red with blood, and her eyes stare lifelessly at the overcast sky. Tears well up as I sit down on the cold cobblestones and pull her head onto my lap. Sobs shake my body.

Dierdra comes over and places a hand on my shoulder. “I’m sorry,” she says. “They closed in on me and I had to drop my bow and defend myself with my long sword. I couldn’t help her. I’m very sorry.”

I have no words for her. I merely nod my head and mourn.

Clavius approaches next. “I know that she was your dear friend, and I am sorry for you. But we must move on, Rocalla. You have committed us to a course of action; there is no turning back now. We can’t stay here.” He speaks in a soft voice, pitched only for my ears. “I am still with you, but I need you to get up and pull the group together.”

“How can I?” I say, tears streaming down my face.

“I don’t know how, but you must. Find the strength within yourself.”

“Strength? If I had strength, she would be alive.”

Clavius looks up at something. I turn to see Father Krohen Dënh approaching. Looking up at Clavius, I say, “Give me a minute.” He nods and walks over to the others.

“What’s going on here?” I hear Xerxes ask. “Are you all insane? I need to talk to Rocalla immediately.”

“You’ll wait your turn,” Clavius says. “She needs a moment alone to mourn her fallen friend.”

“You don’t need to put your filthy hands on me,” Xerxes protests.

I look up at Father Krohen’s face as he stands over me. “She’s gone,” I say.

“I know,” he says. “She gave her life for you.”

“I didn’t want her to.”

“But I think it’s what she wanted to do. When I talked to her a few days ago, she relished your adventure, and she wished that she had been a part of it. She wanted you to succeed.”

“I can’t leave her here, not like this. She needs to be cared for. She needs a proper funeral.”

Father Krohen smiles down at me. “I understand. I will take care of her.”

“Thank you,” I say, “but you don’t know our culture or our customs. It is my responsibility.”

“Perhaps, but you have other responsibilities that demand your attention now. These people need your leadership. The living require more than the dead. You need to go. I will take care of Mariyiybha, and I promise that she will be treated with respect.”

“You will do that? What about Bishop Rul?”

“Don’t worry about him. I will take care of this myself, personally. And I will collect her things and keep them for you, until you return.”

“Thank you,” I say. I close Mariyiybha’s eyes, then bend over and kiss her forehead. “Tassal kaphiicii,” I say. Looking up at Father Krohen, I say to him, “Burial without preservation, so that she may return to the earth from which she came. And plant a tree over her if you can. That is our way.”

“It shall be done. Now go in peace.”

I rest Mariyiybha’s head on the cold stone, then struggle to rise to my feet. As I stand, I remember my pain. My head is throbbing, my side is tender, and my cheek is swollen. With every step that I take, agony shoots up my leg and back.

Xerxes rushes over to me. “What is going on? I demand an explanation.”

I look directly at him. “A short delay, an unfortunate encounter. Now we move on.”

“That’s it? What makes you think that I’m still coming with you?”

“That’s your choice. You can come with us as an equal partner. Or you can stay here in Mandelbroggen and become Gorla Nen’s guest in prison. After today, I doubt that she’d treat you well.”

“I had nothing to do with this!” he says.

“Tell that to Gorla Nen, if you want,” I say. “Otherwise, get your stuff and let’s get moving.”

“You set me up! You never told me that I was joining a band of criminals.”

“We’re not a band of criminals.”

“Then what are you?” Xerxes asks.

“Seekers of the truth that are being hunted because we dared to find it. Now we have to leave.

“Clavius, is anyone hurt?” I ask.

“Nassandra took a hard hit,” Borojs says, “but she should be okay. She is sitting down to rest, and Feneksia and Elanor are quite exhausted as well.”

“What about you?” I ask. “Your forehead is bleeding.”

“It’s nothing,” Borojs says.

“We took a beating, but I don’t think anyone is seriously injured,” Clavius says. “But I wouldn’t want to get into another fight anytime soon.”

“Okay,” I say, “we’re going. Get your packs and let’s start moving.” I manage to shuffle over to my pack and quarterstaff.

“Rocalla,” says Dierdra softly as she approaches me. “Are you sure you’re ready to travel? Maybe we could find a spot to rest.”

“No, we need to get out of the city. Clavius is right, we can’t afford another encounter with the town guards right now.” When I bend over to pick up my pack, my head starts pounding and dizziness overcomes me. I catch myself, planting my hands on my pack, until the feeling passes. Then I grasp the straps firmly in my hands and pull the backpack up with a loud grunt, swinging it into place on my shoulders. Stumbling a bit, I manage to keep my feet as bolts of pain shoot up my back.

Dierdra looks at me with concern, but says no more. She bends over and picks up my quarterstaff, handing it to me.

“Thank you,” I murmur. Then I look around, nod my head, and lead the way out of Mandelbroggen.

Father Krohen stands at the edge of the street, holding Mariyiybha’s body in his arms. I nod to him as tears well up, blurring my vision. He nods to me, turns and carries her away.

Setting a slow pace, I move stiffly and lean heavily on my staff. Our group travels out of the city in silence. The gloomy weather matches my mood, and I proceed from block to block on sheer will alone. Minutes flow into hours as we travel south, leaving the city behind.

The houses spread apart, and then all but disappear. The odors of the city are replaced with the fresher smells of pastures and meadows. A large trading outpost sits on the side of the road, and then there are only fields. Our path turns to the southeast, and after another hour, we pass a crossroad with three houses. The gentle breeze carries the smell of a nearby pig pen. As we move farther away from the city, the terrain becomes more rolling, although it seems that we are ascending more often than not. Far ahead, the tops of the mountains are hidden in the low clouds.

We have traveled several hours when Clavius walks over to me. “Feneksia, Nassandra, and Elanor are weak with fatigue,” he says. “We need to rest.”

I stop walking and look ahead. “There’s a group of trees on top of the next hill. We’ll rest there,” I say. Without another word, I start walking again.

We reach the hill and find a spot off the road in the trees where we drop our packs. I collapse onto the ground, propping myself up against the trunk of a nearby tree. Dierdra drops her pack next to mine.

“Should I go look for some food?” she asks.

“No, we’ll eat some of the stuff we brought. We all need to rest.”

“I’m okay, and Xerxes hasn’t done much of anything yet, except complain.”

“The others need rest, and I have work for Xerxes. Can you distribute the food? Ask Clavius to help you, and see what our water supply looks like.”

“Sure.”

“And Dierdra, thank you for saving me. I know you would have helped Mariyiybha if you could have.”

“I was really scared that the first arrow would hit you instead,” Dierdra says. “I didn’t have a very clean shot, but I was afraid to wait.”

“You did the right thing. You’re an expert archer.”

“But it was so close.”

“I know, I felt the breeze.”

“Wow. You’re not upset with me?”

“Not at all. Now let’s get these people organized.”

Reluctantly, I rise to my feet once again. Dierdra goes to our packs as I stumble amid the grassy hillocks beneath the trees. The Circle Cultists are gathered together in one group. Feneksia is glaring at me, muttering something to her sister. Borojs rises as I approach them.

“Dierdra will be bringing food over,” I say. “Get some rest, as we’ve still got a long hike ahead of us. Thank you for sticking with us during the battle. I didn’t get to see much of what you did, but your efforts helped in our escape.”

“I know time is important,” Borojs says. “And we are likely being pursued. Nevertheless, it would make a big difference in our capability to help next time if we could get a few hours rest.”

“We’ll try to rest for two hours, no more,” I say.

“Understood,” he says.

Walking over to Xerxes, I find him sitting on a rock looking back toward the city. “Thank you for staying with us,” I say.

“What choice did I have? You set me up. I didn’t know that I was joining a bunch of outlaws.”

“Despite what you think, we’re not outlaws, although from your perspective, I could see how it looks that way. Dierdra is getting everyone food, and I promise to tell you the whole story. But first I have to ask for your help. Do you have any skills in medicine?”

“What do you think? Of course, I …” Seeing my expressionless face staring at him, he trails off, then starts over. “My herbal skills are fairly basic; I’m not a master healer. But I can clean and dress wounds, and patch up most injuries.”

“Good. If our luck holds, we’ll be able to rest here a couple of hours. I need you to do whatever you can for the others.”

“Does that include you? From where I was standing, it looked like you and one of the other blonde women got the worst of it.”

“Her name is Nassandra. Start with her first. Come back to me when you’ve seen to the others.”

“I’ll get to it,” Xerxes says, rising to his feet.

I keep watch until Dierdra and Clavius have fed the Circle Cultists. Then Dierdra and I sit down together to eat. Xerxes tends to the others for an hour before he gets to me.

“Okay,” he says, “where does it hurt?”

After I tell him about my injuries, he looks at my mouth.

“Your face is swollen and scraped up pretty good, but none of your teeth are loose. I’m going to need to examine your thigh and side.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re going to have to hike up your dress if you want me to help you.”

We walk behind a tree and I hold my dress and chemise up around my breasts while Xerxes checks out my leg and side. The cold air raises gooseflesh all over my body, as he asks me to take a seat on a small hillock, still clutching my dress. By the time he has finished I am shuddering uncontrollably.

“Okay, drop your dress and stand up,” he says.

He has wrapped my thigh and my abdomen. It is a bit harder to breathe, but the pain is less than before.

“Is it too tight?” he asks.

“No, it’s okay,” I say.

“We’ll loosen it tonight, when we camp.”

“Thank you. You better get something to eat; we’ve got to get moving again soon.”

“I was not expecting the tattoos. I have never seen anything like them; they are rather artistic. Why did you put them in a place where no one will ever see them?”

“I come from the tropics. We wear much shorter skirts there, so they are visible.”

“If that is how the women dress in your homeland, I might enjoy a visit.” He walks off before I can respond.

In a half hour we are back on the road once more. Our journey takes us farther south and east, past rolling hills, high pastures, and fields. The path then turns to the southwest, as the terrain rises more gradually. Clavius worries about our slow progress, but it is the best that I can manage at the moment. Even if I could travel faster, I doubt that Elanor is capable of setting a faster pace.

We reach the first of the foothills as darkness is falling. Clavius finds us a suitable place to camp in the midst of some flat pastureland, while Xerxes builds a fire. Feneksia helps Dierdra with the food while her sister rests.

Once I have eaten, I find a place to kneel down in the grass and look west toward a copse of trees rustling in the night breeze. Clearing my mind of other thoughts, I begin to pray, thanking the Creator for delivering us safely from Mandelbroggen. Then I give a prayer of thanks for all that Mariyiybha has done for me, including her ultimate sacrifice.

“What are you doing?” Dierdra asks.

I did not hear her approach, and my hand goes to my chest to still my rapidly pounding heart. “I’m just saying a few prayers,” I say.

“For Mariyiybha?”

“Yes, prayers of thanks and love for all she has given us.”

“May I join you?” Dierdra asks.

I look up as she stands over me. The breeze has pushed some of her hair, and it covers half her face until she reaches up and pulls it back. “Sure,” I say, “you’re welcome to join me.”

She kneels down next to me. “I’m afraid that I don’t know much about praying. Do you pray every day?”

“Yes, although some days I spend more time at it than others.”

“Like today?”

“Yes.”

We stay there silently for several minutes, contemplating the night. When I bend my head down, Dierdra speaks. “Rocalla?”

“Yes.”

“Would you teach me to pray?”

I had not anticipated this. Dierdra has asked me many questions about the Bhayanna Archipelago and Teidhwar Zariinyeida culture, but never showed any interest in religion, either hers or my own. Deeply touched that she would make such a request, I smile at her and think of what to say. “I would be happy to,” I begin, “although I don’t know much about your North Plessian faith.”

“That doesn’t matter,” she says. “I am not interested in the church of my culture, which insists that my only place is in submission to some man. Teach me your way.”

“Okay,” I say. “I’ll tell you what I do, and try to translate our more formal prayers into Gallish for you.”

“That would help, although someday I’d like you to teach me the original version as well,” she says.

“You want to learn Kopa Teidhwardadya?”

“Why not?”

Smiling again, I spend the next hour teaching Dierdra how to pray. When we are finished, Dierdra returns to camp and I say one last prayer of thanks prior to taking the first watch of the night.