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Message: <blockquote data-quote="ellinor" data-source="post: 5080207" data-attributes="member: 14561">9x03Sorry for the late posting!  But now back to the trek..._________________On the 13th, Rose woke before dawn.  She and Whisper watched as the smallest hint of light began to grow from the horizon, but shrank back when it reached the foreboding bank of clouds above.  It was another grey day, and dark, like twilight without the romance.  Rose pulled her cloak around her.  A chill wind cut through its heavy wool and whipped her silvery hair about her face, tossing dust in her eyes.  Wind, but no rain.  Of course no rain, she thought, wryly.  Rain would be Alirria.A lizard flew overhead in the distance.  It was getting harder to evade their patrols.  She wondered if that meant the derro knew where they were.As her hair lashed about, Rose thought the same thing she had thought nearly every morning:  “Am I doing the right thing?”  When Kormick had said they were being chased across the Ketkath by the Goddess of Evil, Rose knew in the pit of her stomach, he was probably right.  But whether they were doing the right thing was not her question to answer.  It had been nearly a month since they had left the Estate.  Rose wondered what things must be like back there—her mother must be going crazy.  Well, crazier than usual.  She wished she could send her mother a reassuring thought.  But she couldn’t send thoughts, and anyway, there weren’t many reassuring ones to send.She heard Tavi stir.  As he stretched his arms above his head, Phoebe flew around them in figure-eights.  Some things could still make her smile.# # #Arden pulled her hood up and pressed forward into the wind.  It was hard going:  bad visibility, uneven ground, sapling branches whipping at her arms…and somewhere behind them, Arden was sure, the derro must be marching, gaining.  She turned to watch Romek and the other dwarves who trudged just behind her.  Their grateful eyes just made it harder.  Arden let herself move automatically, one foot in front of the other, as her mind wandered back to the previous night.  As she'd been washing dishes and fretting silently over the exhausted dwarves, the Blessed Daughter had apparently noticed her worry.  She had pulled Arden aside, saying “I will take care of you, Arden.  We di Infusinos take care of what's ours."  Arden’s cheeks burned just remembering.  The Blessed Daughter’s voice had rung with such pride as she said it.  All Arden had managed in reply was a quiet “thank you.”  She knew that the Blessed Daughter had been expecting – and arguably deserved – greater gratitude, but she hadn't been able to make herself show it.  She'd been too humiliated by the girl's intended kindness.  Why is this so hard? she thought now.  I can deal with abuse, disrespect, neglect… or friendship among equals…but a kind owner?  Being thankful hurt, and it never got easier. Savina didn’t understand, of course: Arden didn’t need the kindness.  Gods, the warren was bad, but I'm used to that.  It's Savina we should be worried about.  That thought gave Arden a flash of inspiration:  she was worried about Savina.  Arden pushed ahead to where the girl was walking.  She was clutching her cloak around that comical armor, picking her way among roots and swatting at branches.  Yet she, too, looked lost in thought.  "Blessed Daughter?”  Arden had to speak up to be heard over the wind. “Please you, if I may ask, are you all right?"  "A little tired, Arden, but I – I don't need anything right now.  How are the dwarves?""They're survivors, Blessed Daughter.  But about you –  I meant – after everything we've been through.  Are you all right?" Arden looked over, tentatively, to glimpse Savina looking startled."I – I guess so," said the girl.  "I mean – I will be..."The girl’s hesitant words felt like a vindication.  "Blessed Daughter, if I may take a liberty," she said, venturing to look at Savina a little longer, "I worry about you.  It is no easy thing to fall so quickly from happiness into—into something horrible.  It changes you.""Yes, it does," Savina replied, quietly.  She ducked to avoid a branch.  The two pressed forward to keep up with the others."You remind me of me, when I was your age," Arden heard herself say, spontaneously confessing a private thought that she'd been entertaining for some time now.  She hadn't expected to speak it out loud, but suddenly she wanted to counsel Savina;  she wanted to help.  She looked up again, glad that they could form this small connection— —and she saw that the Blessed Daughter was insulted.  Very insulted.  I just told a daughter of the noble house of di Infusino that she reminds me of a slave, didn't I.  Good choice, Arden.She returned her gaze to the trail beneath her feet and said, "Forgive me, Blessed Daughter.  I forgot myself.  I didn't mean to say – I'm sorry."  She added a tremble to her voice, aiming to stir Savina's sympathy.  Some tricks worked both ways. "That's all right, Arden.  You don't have to be frightened.  I told you last night I will care for you, and I will."All the shame came flooding back with Savina’s humiliating kindness.  "Thank you, Blessed Daughter."  Arden pulled her hood up again, wondered if the Blessed Daughter could tell that the blush in her cheeks was not windburn—and if she could, if she would ever understand why. # # #They bathed quickly, huddled, at dawn on the 14th.  Their bodies were sore from the long days of hiking.  The wind was stronger now, colder, joined by thunder.  Still no rain.  Twiggy held her arms close to her chest, hugging the warmth, as she scouted ahead, searching for a path shielded from the wind and the lizards’ eyes.  Behind her, three dwarves were sharing her cloak.  She could hear Kormick providing what she now knew was his version of encouragement.  “See that depression there, under that tree?  We could leave you in that one.  Or that other one.  I want you to know you have options.”  Twiggy was glad that Kormick didn’t speak dwarven.  Perhaps, to them, it just sounded like cheerful patter. But the four former slaves were exhausted—so exhausted that Twiggy could imagine them taking Kormick up on his offer.  As one of them flagged and finally fell, Arden ran over and knelt beside him.  The other three dwarves swayed on their feet nearby.  Unable to speak their language, Arden looked around desperately.  "Dame Mena!" she called.Mena hurried over to the little group.  Arden said something low-voiced to her – Twiggy couldn't make it out.  Mena responded with a quizzical look, but nodded, turned to the dwarves, and quietly told them something.  The four dwarves all looked at Arden.  Arden held out her hand to the fallen dwarf and waited.He reached up, gripped her hand, and rose to his feet. Perhaps she said we’d let them take a shot at Kormick if they kept going, Twiggy thought.  Whatever it had been, it had worked: the other dwarves gritted their teeth and, with Arden in their midst, all four pressed on.It was a long, cold day of trekking through the underbrush.  As they made camp that night, they calculated that if they left soon after dawn, they would still be about four hours ahead of the derro—and a few hours away from the Spring.  As darkness fell, they didn’t bother to find a clearing.  Tired, freezing, wind-burned, and sore, Twiggy fell grumpily on to her bedroll and—for the first time in days—fell fast asleep. # # #On Alirria Ascendant, Savina rose well before dawn to begin preparations and join Kormick on watch.  First, she checked on the dwarves, who were sleeping fitfully.  Three were shivering intensely.  One was so exhausted that he didn’t even shiver.  She placed her hand on his head and prayed.  There was a blue glow.  He began to shiver, and she adjusted the cloak that was covering him.  She put a small flower on every pillow and woke everyone softly.The wind was as loud as ever as the group walked down to the stream.  Even the men bathed this time, discreetly separate from the womenfolk. As she had on the previous days, Arden turned to find a secluded place in which to bathe.  Savina called to her.  “Arden, please bathe with us today.”“I will if you ask it, Blessed Daughter,” responded Arden, quietly, but turned her face away and hesitated before disrobing.“There is no shame in anything Alirria has made, today,” said Savina.  “Nothing to hide.”Quietly, Arden removed her tunic and approached the water.  Her back was covered with whip scars.  Alirria, Savina thought, ease the pain she feels from these injuries long healed.Savina said prayers of grace and thanks, and asked for Alirria’s blessing on their quest on this most holy of days.  It was fitting, Savina thought, that they would probably reach the Spring on this day.  She prayed that the party would be able to honor the traditions of the day, and avoid killing or eating.  It was unlikely, she feared, to be a quiet day of contemplation.Savina planted a few apple seeds that she had been saving for this occasion, and waited for the sun to crest the cloud-darkened horizon.  It never did.  The clouds were too thick.When they returned to camp, Mirtal cooked for those who were pregnant or ill, and thus permitted to eat.  For the first time, the four former slaves ate without making Arden eat first.  And then, blessings said, they shouldered their packs and set out for the Spring.</blockquote>

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