Free Fantastical Ramblings by Irene Radford

to her head.
    Cannik caught her before she fell. “I’ve seen to your tent. You
and Lady Sha’awna may retire there in peace. Rest well for you will need your
strength tomorrow. By noon we will reach the river, thanks to you. We must
reach the ford before sunset to find safe campground.”
    “The ford?” Katya looked up to read the tightness of his
mouth and the deep lines around his eyes that said a lot more than his words. “Outlaws
will hit us there. Not from the heights. That is why they poisoned the well, to
slow us down, make us more awkward crossing the river.” The blue bead tingled a
bit in agreement.
    “I’ll make sure they don’t,” Cannik reassured her.
    The caravan trudged warily along the south riverbank,
skirting tall hills that rose steeply and sharply above the narrow trail. Everyone
kept a wary eye on the ridges above, seeking any sign of movement or odd shadow
that might give them a bit of warning of ambush.
    Cannik scattered his men the full length of the twisting
line of travelers. They all wore their weapons openly, revealing swords, bows
with full quivers, short knives, daggers, throwing stars, whips, and bolos. A
few of the merchants carried spears and wore leather armor and helms. Katya
made Sha’awna walk with the tall camels between them and the hills. She kept her
charge close, guiding her with a touch to her elbow over the tricky footing.
    “My men dispatched a dozen raiders. Another dozen fled,”
Cannik whispered as he passed Katya. I don’t know if they will return for
vengeance or flee in fright.”
    At last the wind ceased tearing at them becoming more a sigh
than a scream, the path broadened into a road, the hills shrank, the river
spread out and grew less frantic and deep. An eerie quiet descended among the
caravan.
    Then Katya spied the causeway that should give them safe
footing across the water.
    The river poured through a wide gash in the dressed stones. Spray
and trickles dampened the rest of the path, making footing slippery and
treacherous. The break looked natural, a few stones pushed out of the way after
a recent storm, not the work of raiders.
    “Ropes! We need every rope you have,” Cannik called from the
head of the line.
    Katya tiredly dug out a thick coil from her packs. “You came
prepared,” Cannik said as he traveled the line collecting all that he could.
    “I’m always prepared.” Katya touched the blue bead. It
remained calm. If danger lurked it was not imminent. She hoped that perhaps the
outlaws did not plan to attack them as they crossed.
    Slowly, carefully, they sent strong swimmers across with
ropes tied to their waists. Within a short time they had crude guidelines
strung the full width of the river. The gap was not so wide after all. The long
legged camels crossed it with a single step. When Katya’s and Sha’awna’s turn
came, Cannik made sure they were firmly lashed together and to him. He carried
the blind girl across the gap while Katya anchored him. Then he stood fast,
letting her borrow his strength until she too stood on firmer ground.
    “Is it here?” Sha’awna whispered the moment they set foot on
dry land.
    “Is what here?” Katya asked, more snappish than polite.
    “Home. My sanctuary. My choice,” Sha’awna replied just as
sharply.
    Katya looked around. Mostly she saw people setting up camp
or crossing the river. The blue bead caressed her face. No warning of danger,
more a thrill of completion. She looked closer at the lush landscape that
graced this side of the river. A quarter league away, well above the flood line
but close enough to utilize the river, a dense copse blocked sight of what lay
within its shadows. Then a chance shift of light as the sun drifted toward the
horizon caught a glint off polished granite.
    A rare stone in these parts. A heavy stone to drag from the
hills. Something manmade and important must reside there. Katya’s heart seemed
to swell with a sense of familiar welcome. She needed to go there.