Elizabeth Haydon - Prophecy - Child of Earth

The forest thickened, and it became clear that they had passed into the most important and difficult part of the journey. They were now in the Great Forest, an area that covered much of western Canderre and all of northern Navarne and Avonderre to the sea. Their journey had reached the halfway point; Ashe had plotted and achieved the course perfectly. Up until now that had not been very difficult; though there were few landmarks to gauge by, the stars were clear on the plains and the direction simple. They were heading due west, so they had followed the sun. Now came the hard part, the main reason his services as guide were necessary. They were in woods, thick and dark and directionless, with real opportunity for losing their way.

Though Rhapsody had said nothing, Ashe picked up on her increased nervousness.

“You’re worried.”

“A little,” she admitted. Their voices broke the stillness of the wood, sounding strange.

“I’ve been there before; I know where I’m going,” he said. His tone held none of the annoyance it had on occasion before.

“I know,” Rhapsody said with a weak smile. “But I’ve never met a dragon before, so I guess it’s fair that I’m a little worried. Is she large—for a dragon?”

Ashe chuckled. “I didn’t say I was an expert on dragons. Nor did I say I had met her. I just said I’d been near to her lair.”

“Oh.” Rhapsody dissolved into silence, her questions unvoiced, knowing Ashe wouldn’t answer them.

“Perhaps we should stop for supper,” he said. “Food often calms nerves, I’ve found. Besides, it’s your turn to cook.” There was a mischievous note in his voice.

Rhapsody smiled. “I see, it’s a ploy. All right, I’ll cook. A fire should be safe enough here, don’t you think?” They had rarely had one while on the plain, both of them knowing it would act as a beacon in the absolute darkness.

“I suppose so.”

“Good,” she said, her spirits lifting a little. “I’m going to see what I can find in the immediate vicinity, forage a bit.”

“Don’t go far.” Ashe heard her sigh as she walked away into a copse of trees.

She was back a few minutes later, looking excited. “Wait until you see what I found,” she said, sitting cross-legged on the ground of the clearing they had chosen as camp for the night. She pulled her pack into her lap and began to rummage through it.

Ashe watched as she spread a kerchief on the new shoots of spring grass, mixed a number of ingredients in a battered tin cylinder, then covered it, dug a small hole, and buried it in the ground. Along with it she buried two potatoes she had brought with her, and then built a fire directly on top of it all.

While it burned she cored two small apples she had located in the woods, leftovers from the fall, and spiced them with dried matter from a pouch in her pack. She hung a small pot over the fire into which she had sliced some old leeks and wild horseradish she had found in the forest. When the flames had reduced to coals she pulled the pot off the fire and set the apples into the glowing embers, roasting the fruit in the heat. After a while they began to bubble and send forth an amazing smell that made his mouth begin to water.

Rhapsody pulled the apples from the fire and set them aside to cool, then dug up the cylinder and the potatoes. The latter she set with the apples while she pried open the tin and gave it a good shake. Onto the kerchief slid a small loaf of bread, the aroma of which was slightly nutty and wholesome. She gave the leek soup a brisk stir, releasing an impressive tang into the smoky air.

Ashe felt his appetite increase as she cut the steaming loaf open, then reached back into her pack for a small piece of hard cheese. She sliced this effortlessly, and topped the bread with it. The cheese melted as she set the other elements of the meal before him.

“There. I’m afraid it’s simple fare, but it should stave off your hunger for the night.”

“Thank you.” Ashe sat down next to her, pulling the kerchief she offered him closer. “This looks good.” He watched until she had sampled the food herself, then took a bite of each thing she ate in turn.

“It’s not much,” she said apologetically. “Just a country folk tune.”

Ashe’s mouth was filled with the spiced apple. “Hmmm?”

“I’m afraid you can’t do much composing when you only have the ingredients that you can find in the immediate vicinity.”

He swallowed. “Composing?”

Rhapsody smiled at the hooded figure. “Yes, well, a truly well-planned meal has all the aromatic elements of a good musical piece.” There was no response, so she continued on with her explanation, hoping he didn’t find it as inane as Achmed had. “You see, if you put enough thought into the way things impact the senses, you can affect the way they are perceived.

“For instance, if you were planning an intimate dinner, you might want it to come off like a minor orchestral concerto. So you have the string bass section be something like a rich soup. Then, to put in an overlay of violins, some flaky biscuits, topped with sweet butter and honey. Perhaps you serve something light and tangy, like crisp vegetables in an orange sauce, for that addition of an impish flute line. So first you decide what you want the meal to be in terms of a musical piece, and then you compose the food to match the mood.”

Ashe took a bite of the bread. “Interesting. Manipulative, but very interesting.” The nutty flavor melded perfectly with the cheese, making both items seem far more substantial than they would have been separately.

Rhapsody looked at him in surprise. “Manipulative? I don’t understand.” He said nothing. “Can you explain your meaning?” Ashe took another bite. “Is the tea ready?”

Rhapsody rose and went to the fire. Tea was best made from the offerings of summer: strawberry leaves and rose hips, sweet fern and red sumac berries. The herbs she had located were not the best blend, plantain and slippery elm, dandelion roots and yarrow, but they were mild and had only passive, healthy properties. She poured a cup of the steaming liquid and passed it to him, her brow still furrowed, waiting for an explanation.

One was not forthcoming. The cloaked figure raised the cup inside his hood and took a sip. Rhapsody jumped as he spat the tea out violently, spraying some into the fire.

“Bleah. What is this?” His tone was rude, and Rhapsody could feel her blood start to steam.

“Well, now it’s herbal vapor, but prior to your mature response it was tea.”

“A new and interesting definition for it, I’d say.”

Rhapsody’s ire was rising. “Well, I’m sorry you don’t like it, but it was the best grouping of herbs I could find. All the properties are healthy ones.”

“If their taste doesn’t kill you first.”

“Well, next time I’ll be sure to find licorice just for you. I didn’t realize until now what serious need you were in of a laxative.”

She thought she heard a chuckle as the hidden man rose and went to his own pack. He rummaged for a moment; finally he located what he was looking for.

“You could make some of this.” He tossed her a small canvas sack tied with a rawhide cord.

Rhapsody opened the bag and held it to her nose, inhaling its aroma. She recoiled instantly in disgust.

“Gods, what is this?” She held the sack away from her face.

“Coffee. A special blend from Sepulvarta.”

“Ugh. It’s repulsive.”

Ashe laughed. “You know, you’re being very close-minded. You should at least try it before you declare it repulsive.”

“No, thank you. It smells like dirt from a skunk’s grave.”

“Well, be that as it may, I like it, certainly much more than your odious tea.” Rhapsody’s face fell, and he hastened to mitigate the damage. “Though I’m sure tea you make when you are not in the forest and dependent on the availability of certain plants—”