Brian Anderson - The Sword of Truth

“You never said what happened to Gewey,” said Millet. “Where is he?”

Lee told them about the events of the past day and explained their plan.

“I will see to the horses now,” said Millet. “You should eat and rest for a bit.”

“One more thing,” Lee said, turning toward Maybell. “Sister, if you wish, you can accompany Millet until you either reach another temple or figure out where you want to go.”

Millet froze. “But my lord…” he started.

“Thank you,” Maybell interrupted. “That is very kind. I’m sure Millet and I will become fast friends.”

Millet looked pained as he turned and left. Kaylia said nothing, but Lee could tell she was not happy.

“If you’ll excuse us, Sister,” Lee said, motioning for Kaylia to join him in the hall.

“She will slow us down,” Kaylia asserted. “You should leave her.”

“You’re right,” Lee acknowledged. “But I won’t. She’s a lady of worth and honor, and I will not abandon such a person.”

“Answer me this, half-man,” she countered. “When you came upon me in the forest, was it you who decided to come to my aid?”

Lee had no answer.

“I see,” she said.

“The fact is, I was wrong and Gewey was right,” Lee said, finally.

“Given the same choice again, I would help you.”

“You misunderstand,” she replied. “Helping me was foolish. You were right to want to leave me. And know this: given the same choice today, I would leave you.”

Lee chuckled.

“Something amuses you?” asked Kaylia.

“It’s just that is the first thing I’ve heard you say that I don’t believe,” said Lee. “Come, let’s eat.”

It was well into the afternoon when Gewey and Celandine reached the foot of the Spirit Hills. Though they had stopped running, Gewey began to feel the fatigue in his legs as they walked onward.

“I don’t think we’re being followed,” said Celandine. “All the same, we should be well into the hills before we stop.”

“Where are you from?” Gewey asked, trying to make conversation.

“Baltria,” she answered. “But I haven’t been there since I was a child.”

“Do you remember what it was like?”

“Vaguely. Mostly just flashes of memory. I do remember the smell of the salt air coming off the bay. My father would take me to see the ships, and that smell always told me we were close. What about you?”

“Nowhere you would have heard of,” said Gewey, not wanting to give away too much about himself.

“Don’t worry,” she said, sensing his trepidation. “While I’d love to know why you’re deemed to be so important, I’m not going to force it out of you.”

“What do you know about me?” Gewey inquired.

“I was given your description and name, and was told that if I found you, I should keep you safe until you could be delivered to the temple.”

Gewey looked puzzled. “Why would your temple care about me?”

“We have spies among the Dark Knight’s followers, and when we learned he was after you, we knew we had to get to you first,” Celandine answered. “Other than that, I don’t know much.”

“What’s your temple like?” Gewey asked.

“It’s a place of training and worship,” she explained. “Only a few of us are permitted to go there, and I must admit I’m curious why a farm boy is worth this journey.”

“Me too,” Gewey said.

Celandine laughed. Her laugh sounded like a song to Gewey, and it made him have thoughts that caused him to blush.

“How old are you?” she asked.

“Why?” Gewey replied. “How old do I look?”

“Your size says a grown man in his twenties,” she remarked. “But your eyes tell a different story.”

“I’m seventeen,” he announced. “But I’ve been my own man for two years.”

Celandine smiled sweetly and looked closely at him. “You are very young, but I have no doubt that you are your own man. I meant no offense.”

“It’s just that Lee and the others treat me like a child,” he admitted.

“Back home, I have my own land and run a farm by myself. Here, I feel like I’m growing up all over again.”

“But when it comes to the world, you are,” Celandine replied.

“Your friends only want to protect you, as do I.”

“I don’t need protecting,” Gewey said bitterly. “I can take care of myself.”

“I could tell,” she teased. “Salmitaya must have been terrified.”

“I would have escaped sooner or later!” Gewey protested. “I didn’t need rescuing.”

“Be that as it may,” she said sternly, “I did rescue you, and I would think you would show a little appreciation.”

Gewey felt ashamed. “I’m sorry. I do appreciate your help, Celandine. I really do. I just get sick of feeling so bloody helpless.”

“I understand,” she said sympathetically. “I know what it’s like to feel helpless, but trust me, once you get to the temple, you’ll never have to feel that way again.”

“I hope you’re right,” Gewey replied, earnestly.

“One more thing,” said Celandine. “My friends call me Dina-or at least, they did when I had friends.”

Gewey smiled. “Dina, then.”

By the time the sun went down, they were well into the interior of the Spirit Hills. They built a small fire at the base of one the hills and split a loaf of flatbread Dina had brought.

After they ate, Gewey laid on the grass to rest, using his journey pack as a pillow. The stars were obscured by the constant overcast, and he felt the chill of the damp night air creep into his clothing.

Lee’s words about the coming of a hard winter echoed in his head, and suddenly his mind went to thoughts of the villagers in Sharpstone. They had seen too many hard winters-too many deaths.

Somehow, he would find a way to make things right.

Dina was huddled close to the fire, already asleep. Gewey watched the firelight as it danced across her face. He wanted to go to her and feel the softness of her cheek against his hand. She stirred for a moment, and Gewey felt himself blush with embarrassment. He rolled over and tried to sleep, but he couldn’t take his mind off her.

Finally, he got up and walked off into the night, careful not to wake her. He closed his eyes and breathed the cold air into his lungs.

Remembering Kaylia’s lessons, he focused his mind on the darkness that surrounded him. The trees in this part of the hills were thick and numerous, so Gewey decided to practice moving through the shadows.

It wasn’t long before he had forgotten Dina and lost himself in his training. The darkness opened itself up to him and showed him where to hide, how to move, and where to strike.

“You move like an elf,” said a voice from behind him. Gewey spun around and saw a thin, old man dressed in animal skins, holding a gnarled tree branch as a walking stick. His long gray hair was tangled and unkempt, and his wiry beard fell down his chest. Gewey, realizing he had left his sword back at the fire, took a quick step back.

“Who are you?” Gewey stammered.

“The spirits tell me that you are something special,” the old man answered. “I wanted to see for myself.”

“Spirits?” Gewey asked. “What spirits?”

“They tell me you need my help,” he continued, as if Gewey hadn’t spoken. “Yes they do. They tell me things. Things you should know. Things you shouldn’t. They’re very clever.”

“Tell me who you are,” Gewey demanded. “What do you want?”

“He asks what we want, he does. What could we want? Nothing, that’s what. We have all we need. But you want something, don’t you? You want something very badly. Don’t worry. No, don’t you worry. You’ll have it. Yes indeed you will. I’ll give it.”