Friday, 19 June 2009

• Cecily's Quest - Chapter Sixteen

  Whew!  What a week.  I have been very busy with making Trailers for my two published books.  If you are interested in seeing them, pop over my other blog (http://rachel-rossano.blogspot.com) and have a look.  I would love to hear what you think.  With that and being sick (a four day stomach bug followed closely by a cold  ), I haven't been doing much writing.  After I post this, I am going to settle down to write more in Ethan and Mariah's story.

  I hope you enjoy the chapter. 

  - Rachel Rossano

  http://rachel-rossano.blogspot.com

  http://www.freewebs.com/anavrea

   

   

  Chapter Sixteen – Supplies

   

   

              Three hours later, they spotted a promising looking farm on the outskirts of a town called Harpter.  The town was not directly on the merchant road, instead it was about five miles west, closer to the mountains that marked the border between Anavrea and Braulyn.  The farm was on the southern side of the town. Ehren figured that was safer because if anything went wrong, whoever fetched reinforcements from town had to travel north before pursuing them to the south.  They would get a head start.

              Before approaching, they went over their roles.  Ehren, or rather Marcus, and Oran Trace were brothers, merchants from Lydon, a small village outside of the port of Jumare.  They were returning from their yearly trading journey to Blairdark and back.  Cecily, as Lilt, was Marcus’ new bride.  They had lost their pack horse to thieves and so they were running low on provisions and clothing.  After the brief review, the threesome approached the farmhouse from the direction of the merchant road. 

              The fencing on both sides of the long drive looked well tended.  The cows that munched in the long grass on the right side appeared well fed.  Ehren found himself encouraged in his choice.  A farmer with plenty would be easier to persuade to part with supplies in exchange for money.  The house was perched on the top of a slight rise above the surrounding fields.  Chickens strutted across the yard and a large dog announced their arrival from his stake next to the barn.

              The front door of the house opened and a young boy stuck his head out.  Seeing them, his eyes widened and called something back into the house.  At the same moment a tall, lean man emerged from the barn wiping his hands on the front of his tunic.  “Greetings,” he called.

              Ehren slowed his horse’s already easy walk and returned the greeting.  A woman emerged from the house and made her way toward them.  The child remained behind to watch from the partially open door.  “We are travelers seeking provisions.  We hoped that you might be able to help us.”

              The farmer nodded slowly.  There was a calm measuring look in his eyes that made Ehren nervous.  This man thinks more than the average farmer.   I am not sure that is particularly good.  ”We will pay for food and some clothing for my wife.  Our pack horse was stolen and she has no appropriate clothing.”

              The farmer and his wife exchanged a look Ehren could not read.  Ehren was not sure this was going to work.  He was about to give the signal for Cecily and Oran to turn and leave while he made their apologies when the man spoke.

              “My wife has just finished her baking.  Come in and eat some bread.  I will water your horses.”  The man stepped forward and took the bridle of Cecily’s horse.  She shot Ehren a questioning look.  He nodded to indicate that she should dismount.

              Within moments, Ehren and Cecily were following the woman into the house and Oran was helping the farmer with the horses.

   

              The smell of freshly baked bread brought tears to Cecily’s eyes as memories of home came to mind.  With little fuss, the farmer’s wife, who introduced her self as Lotty, seated them at the large kitchen table.  The small boy that they spotted before was only one of the four children that appeared at different times during their meal.  Cecily guessed the oldest to be about twelve.  All of them had their mother’s hair and eyes.  Not one looked like the lean fair haired farmer.

              Cecily was content in her role as shy young woman.  Letting Ehren field Lotty’s constant flow of chatter peppered with questions, she turned her attention to the soft, fragrant, warm bread she had served them in thick slices.  Butter to melt on the bread and frothy milk completed the simple feast, but Cecily found she was more than satisfied.  Oran appeared a moment later with the farmer, and he was served the same fare.

              As soon as Cecily finished her food, Lotty insisted on taking her into their storage areas in the basement.  There she loaded two large sacks with potatoes, carrots, and other various vegetables that would travel well.  After adding three loaves of fresh bread from that day’s baking, Lotty ushered Cecily upstairs to try on one of the dresses that she insisted she would never wear again.  Digging into the back of the large chest in the master bedroom, the farmer’s wife produced a simple, but well-made brown shift and a full length homespun gray skirt.  In her younger days, Lotty informed Cecily, she had been slender like Cecily, but that was before the four children.  She laughed happily after the declaration.  Cecily was certain the woman would not change a single part of her life now for those former days.  Leaving Cecily to change, Lotty went down to wait on the men.

              Sighing into the sudden silence, Cecily found herself smiling.  Lotty certainly liked to talk.  As she changed, Cecily looked about the room.  Simplicity and love seemed to fill ever corner of this humble house.  Dark curtains hung at the windows and a braided rug covered the rough floor boards.  Homemade bedding covered the lumpy straw mattress and sturdy stand with lamp stood in the far corner.  A stack of books were lying on top of another table in the opposite corner.  Cecily frowned at the sight.  None of them looked like a ledger for keeping the farm’s accounts.  That was the only book she would expect to see in a farmer’s house.  Instead some of them looked vaguely familiar.  As she finished lacing the front of the shift, she walked over for a closer look.  Suddenly someone downstairs called her fake name, she jumped guiltily.  Deciding to just leave, she grabbed her old clothing and hurried out, closing the door behind her.

   

              By six, they were on their way again and thanks to the generosity of the farmer and his family, they had more supplies than they had requested.  The farmer, who had said his name was Ketran, would have insisted they spend the night too, but Ehren had won out by saying they were in a hurry.

              Twilight was falling fast and Cecily could not help feeling a little more relaxed than she usually would.  Maybe it was the feeling of a stomach full of good food, or even the comfort of having a good story to play for the voyage home, but she was feeling like a good laugh.  Just as she was about to try for Ehren's attention, he spoke.

              “That was too easy.”  Tugging on the reigns to guide his horse closer to hers, he said, “I am not sure what to do about it, but that was too easy for my comfort.  What do you think?”  He glanced over at her.  She could barely see his face in the falling darkness, but it looked worried.  Oran’s horse nickered from behind reminding them that he was there.

              Shrugging, she ran through the last few hours in her head.  All she had seen was a kind family in their home welcoming strangers as friends.  Suddenly, she remembered the books she had seen.

              “He refused payment,” Ehren commented in his musing.  “I finally hid the money in the kitchen so they can find it later.”

              Pieces were falling into place quite quickly now in Cecily's head.  Reaching into the saddle bags behind her, Cecily searched for her scribe bag.  Pulling it from its hiding place beneath the largest bag, she slung it across the front of the saddle.  She made quick work of the ties and dug out her journal in a matter of minutes.  There, on the third page from the back, she found her list.  Ehren had stopped his horse alongside hers and watched this whole process with interest.  When she looked up, Cecily found him regarding her with a puzzled expression.

              “What was the farmer's full name?” she signed.

              “Ketran Hiel was how he introduced himself.  Why?”

              Ignoring the question, Cecily peered at her list and then smiled.  That explains everything.  But no, the children are too old.

              “Cecily.”  Ehren tried to catch her attention.  When she finally looked up, he asked again.  “Why did you want to know his name?”

              Cecily balanced the pile carefully on the saddle before raising her hands to sign.  “I thought he was an ex-Servant.”  Seeing that the statement had cleared up nothing for Ehren, she elaborated.  “Some years before Lisbrith Andris died, he sent a group of Servants out to travel and teach.  He believed that the message of the manuscripts was for all people, not just the men of the order.  Many of the Servants who were not sent had disagreed with the action.  They could not do anything about it though, until Lisbrith Andris died.”

              “Lisbrith Marus decreed that every one of those men who had left were no longer Servants.  They title and privileges were evoked.  Ketran Hiel was one of those men.  But it can’t be the same Ketran Hiel.  The children are too old.  The Servants were sent out less than ten years ago and that farmer’s oldest boy was at least twelve, eleven at the least.”  The pile started to slide, so Cecily dropped her hands to steady it.  As she was repacking the satchel, Ehren thought.

              “Maybe the children are not all his.  I seem to remember him mentioning that marriage was a new experience for him too.  Why is it so important to know?”  Ehren commented as soon as her hands were free again.

              “Andris wanted me to find the men and check up on them.”  Cecily gathered her reigns before continuing.  “It was part of the instructions he left me in the journal.  I was supposed to find all the names of the men who had left during the last ten years and trace their locations.”  Slinging the satchel back into place, Cecily urged her horse forward.

              “He was one that I could not find in the Vargar records.”  Cecily signed quickly, but did not know if Ehren had caught the sentence.  A fog was rising and coating everything in a hazy cloud.  Oran moved up to travel on Cecily’s opposite side.  They traveled in silence of a while, but Cecily quickly surmised that they could not press on for long.  Their visibility was significantly shrinking by the minute and the horses were tiring.

   

              Ehren glared at the misty clouds that were slowly suffocating the three of them.  He could no longer see the sky and stars to keep in the right direction.  If they kept on much longer, they could wander off the edge of a cliff or stumble onto an encampment or farm.  That was the problem with not following a trail or road.  Once their celestial and man-made guide posts were out of sight, they were lost.  On the other hand, they were in extreme danger if they did not continue to travel tonight.  The nearest port was still four days away and the deadline was only ten hours away.  Frustration was clouding his thoughts when Cecily interrupted them.

              She was pointing to a stand of trees about ten feet to their right.  At least it looked like a group of trees towering black and dense even in the haze fog surrounding them.  When Ehren looked to Cecily's face she nodded toward them with her head and a questioning look in her eyes.  She has a point, he finally admitted.  We need to stop and there are always other ways to get out of a country without detection.  Giving in, he guided his horse to follow Cecily's.  Oran did likewise.

              To Ehren's surprise, Cecily seemed to know exactly what she was looking for.  In a matter of moments she was pointing out a large rock next to a convenient tree.  The two were surrounded by underbrush.  All that was needed was another roof contraption like the one he and Oran had built the many nights before and they would have a nice shelter.

              Working in silence, they set up camp and Cecily worked on preparing a cold dinner of baked potatoes, bread, and water from their reserve.  Ehren and Oran had just settled themselves under their makeshift roof and taken the first bite of his bread, when suddenly it began to pour.  Ehren could not help smiling.  “Perfect timing.”

              Oran grunted and turned his attention to his meal.

              “Thank Kurios,” Cecily signed before taking a drink out of the water bag. 

              Without thought, Ehren found himself asking, “Why?”

              Oran looked up and glanced between them with interest.

              Cecily set down her bread and leaned forward so she could see his face.  Ehren did not move.  They were sitting with their backs against the boulder and the light from the lantern between them created a small circle of light around their tent.  Oran had his back against the tree that formed the other support for their little shelter.  Beyond him the rainfall intensified.

              Leaning back again, she asked, “Do you really want to know?”

              Nodding Ehren took a mouthful of jerky and began the long process of chewing it into a swallow.

              “I thank the Lord because every event in our lives is under His control.  In this case.”  She gestured toward the rain falling loudly around them.  “He gave us time to set up camp before this.”

              Carefully speaking around his mouthful, Ehren asked, “Why did He send it in the first place?  What about the fog?  He must not know we are trying to reach the port by tomorrow morning.”  He also knows we are not going to make it for another few days.  Why doesn’t He do something about that too?  The thought made him eager to move on, but the rain made that option foolish.

              Oran silent turned toward Cecily and waited for her answer.  If Ehren did not know better, he would have thought Oran was truly interested.  Odd. Since he could only follow one side of the conversation.

              Cecily nodded thoughtfully, “He knows, but for some reason has stopped us.”  Catching the look on Ehren's face, she immediately continued.  “I know that everything He does is for a purpose.  It is a promise I have clung to throughout my life.  Maybe it is not always for my immediate benefit, but He always has a reason and a plan.  I trust Him to know best.”

              Ehren watched the rain in silence for awhile.  Oran announced he was going to sleep pulling over his bed roll he used it as a pillow.  Laying down with his back to them, he fell silent.  Ehren watched him for a while without actually seeing him.  Suddenly he asked, “Why do you trust Him with so much?”

              Another period of quiet passed, Ehren watched her face as she thought.  Finally she signed, “I believe it all comes down to the fact that I have no choice.  He is control whether or not I believe.  Everything He has said has been true.  Every promise He has made, He has fulfilled.  I am His to do with as He chooses.  I am thankful He was gracious enough to open my eyes and let me see Him.  Even better, He gave me the opportunity to walk with Him and the joy to be an active part of His work.”

              “It is hard to explain, but since Lisbrith Andris first introduced me to the Lord and I accepted His gift, He has been an active part of my life.  Whenever I need Him he is there and holding me in His care.”

              “Because of the prophecy?” Ehren asked.

              Cecily shook her head, “No, because He loves me so much His son died so that he and I could be together.”  Finally, Cecily raised her eyes to Ehren's face.  “He has done the same for you.  All you have to do is ask Him to cleanse you from sin and He will do the rest.  I don't know any other way to describe it.”  As she looked into his eyes with a peace and joy that Ehren envied, he began to realize he needed to think about this some more.  “Maybe the prophecy makes it all the more important and real to me than most,” she admitted.

              Cecily pulled her scribe's satchel out from under her bedding.  Digging into it, she produced a dark brown leather bound book.  After placing it in her lap with obvious care, Cecily signed, “This is a special copy of the manuscripts.  Many years ago…”  She paused a moment to recall the time.  “About five Lisbriths before Andris, the Lisbrith that currently oversaw the study and preservation of manuscripts was a devote man.  He wished to have a copy of the larger texts in a portable form.”  Catching Ehren's confused look, Cecily quickly explained that the originals were kept on long scrolls of waterproof parchment and stored in deep cases with many compartments.  Each compartment was seven inches high, seven inches wide, and four feet deep.  The Lisbrith wished to read the texts without having to drag out the heavy scrolls and roll to the correct place.  “Instead he had twenty of these made.”  With great care Cecily opened the cover and handed it to Ehren.

              The leather was smooth and surprisingly soft as the book slid into his hands.  Turning so the lantern's glow fell on the page, Ehren read:  The Word of the Almighty God through the hands and mouths of his prophets.  Copied in smaller form for the spreading of the Gospel throughout the five kingdoms.  The edges of the pages were slightly worn from obviously careful, but frequent use.

              “Is it yours?”  Ehren asked.  He glanced up to see tears in Cecily's eyes.

              She nodded.  “Andris gave it to me the day he left.”  Swiping quickly at her eyes, she continued.  “It is one of the three known surviving copies.  One is passed from Lisbrith to Lisbrith and is the property of the office.  One was a gift to the king of Anavrea and is a part of the royal library.”  She paused.

              Ehren looked down at the copy in his hands.  The glow of the lantern was not strong enough for a careful examination, but his eyes caught on something at the top of the title page.  Leaning closer and maneuvering the book so that the light fell fully on the yellowed page, Ehren peered at the spidery script.  “Discovered by Xerxes Tacitus Andris on his fifteenth birthday in the depths of Liven Vargar,” it read.   Ehren swallowed slowly.  “Lisbrith Andris was of  Ratharian descent?”  Tacitus was a distinctly Ratharian name.

              Cecily nodded.  “The Lord saves all kinds of men.  Andris gave it to me right before he left Larkaria,” she smiled.  “One of the most precious gifts anyone has ever given to me.  I want you to read it.”

              Ehren stared at her for a moment before shaking his head.  “I cannot take such a valuable gift from you.”

              Raising her hand, Cecily interrupted him with a shake of her head.  “Borrow it.  Give it back when you have finished reading it from cover to cover.”  Without waiting for him to respond, Cecily handed him a soft leather bag that gathered at the top with a thong.  “This is to cover and protect it.  Good night.”  Gathering her cloak over her, Cecily tucked her feet close, lay down on her bedding, and closed her eyes.

              Since she obviously was not going to listen to his protests, Ehren readjusted himself and settled in for a long read.  It had better be interesting; he needed to be awake to watch for intruders.

   

              The two days later, someone appeared on the road behind them.  They had rejoined the merchant’s road because they made better time and they were approaching their destination.  Jumare was only a day and a half journey away.  Oran had noticed them first about two miles back, but they were not close enough for them to do much more than count the four men on horses.  They were traveling light and moving at a good speed.  In keeping with their story, they had kept their pace slow while on the road.  Neither Ehren nor Oran mentioned the men to Cecily.  The meeting was inevitable.  They could not leave the road without being suspicious and pretty soon it was only going to be a matter of a few minutes before they were overtaken.

              Oran rode closer to Cecily’s right side while Ehren was on her left.  “Do not sign anything,” Ehren hissed.  In his peripheral vision, he saw her head rise abruptly, but she smoothly turned the movement into a glance at the ground as if she had spotted something.  “We have a shadow and they have us in their sights.”  Turning in his saddle as if Cecily had called to him, he looked over at her as she drew her beast closer along side his.  Her eyes were dark with fear.  “Do not worry,” he reassured her.  “Your God is with us and we have an alibi.”  He smiled as he spoke, “None of Drackett's men could have located us this fast.  They are not going to be certain we are the ones they want.  Oran makes three and they are looking for two.  All we have to do is convince them we could not possibly be us.”  Ignoring the way her eyebrows came together, Ehren pulled the reigns to the right and started toward the side of the road.  Cecily obediently followed; Oran was close behind.

   

              Help, Father, Cecily's heart was already racing and their unwanted traveling companions were not even in hearing range.  Father, I do not know what to do, she unseeingly watched Ehren dismount and then approach her horse.  Behind her the leather creaked as Oran dismounted.  Give me strength.  Ehren reached up for her and she willingly allowed him to lift her from the horse.

              As soon as her feet touched the ground, Cecily found herself enveloped in his warm embrace.  While she was still in shock at being so close and fighting with the urge to want to get closer to him, Ehren spoke against her hair. 

              “We have to convince them that we are newlyweds.”  His breath was warm.  Brushing his lips against her forehead, he continued whispering.  “Do not sign for as long as we are in their sight.  It will be a dead give away.”  Cecily was having a hard time thinking as Ehren's lips brushed her forehead again.  With a great deal of effort, she managed a slight nod right before he kissed her lips.

              His lips were soft and warm.  Help us, she prayed as she slipped her arms around Ehren's waist and hugged him closer.  He smelled of pine, campfire smoke, and a unique essence she finally identified as his own scent.  He withdrew his lips for a moment, long enough to whisper, “They are almost here.”  Then he reclaimed her mouth a little more strongly than before.  Cecily answered by pulling him closer.

              “Ho there.”  A strange voice greeted them.  Cecily was dimly aware of the sound of horses and shifting gear, but even after Ehren released her and turned to greet the new arrivals, she felt a bit hazy.  Smoothly, as if he had done it a thousand times before, Ehren tucked her under his arm and pinned her close to his side with his left arm.  He held her so close that Cecily could feel his heart pounding and the cold steel of his sword hilt pressed against her waist.  The hard length of metal and leather ran the length of the minute space between them.  Cecily quickly realized he was using her to block it from view.  They had no reason to believe he was armed.

              “Greetings, sirs.”  Ehren grinned broadly at the men.  “Where are you heading on this bright morn?”  Glancing down at Cecily with a loving look, he caught her left hand and trapped it beneath his own against his chest.  Cecily slipped the right one around his waist beneath his cloak and leather jerkin to grasp the hilt of his dagger hidden there.  The body warmed hilt fit into the center of her hand and brushed the healing skin of her palm.

              Oran stood silent and still, but Cecily realized he was also trying to disguise the fact he was armed.  Three against four were not terrible odds; but desperately Cecily prayed it would not come down to a fight.

              “Jumare,” the oldest of the travelers replied.  Jumare had been one of their own possible destinations and the closest port to their current position.  “We are looking for some outlaws.”  One of the young men shifted slightly, and the leader shot him a glaring look.  Turning back to them, he smiled in a mild way.  “Have you met anyone on this road in the past few days?”

              “We saw some travelers yesterday,” Ehren offered.  “Didn't we, Lilt?”  He glanced down at Cecily's face again.  She nodded and peeked shyly out from his embrace and smiled meekly at the nearest stranger.  Surprised, the young man took a moment to manage an answering smile.

              “They did not look much like outlaws though,” Oran commented.

               Ehren tightened his arm.  Cecily did not know if it was to encourage or deter her behavior, she did not worry about it though.  Taking advantage of the moment, she nuzzled closer into Ehren's shoulder, pressed her cheek against him, and closed her eyes in contentment.  “I can't say we have noticed much,” Ehren was saying.  “We have only been married for a few days now and I've been distracted.”  Cecily almost laughed at the sheepish tone he used.  It was so unlike his usual confident manner.  “My brother would know the most.”  He jutted his chin toward Oran.

              “How many did you see yesterday?”  The leader asked impatiently.  “What did they look like?”

              Squinting his eyes, Oran looked into nowhere as if it would give him the answer.  “There were three yesterday.”  He glanced at Ehren, who nodded his agreement.  “A peddler passed us yesterday morning and then two men passed us in the early evening.”  Looking back to the strangers, Oran shrugged.  “All of them looked pretty normal to me, except one of the men was unusually short for his age.  Maybe it was a boy.”

              Cecily watched the faces of the men and tried to gage their reception. Please let them believe, she prayed silently.  She must have communicated some of her tension to Ehren; he started stroking his thumb across the back of her captured hand.  When she looked up at him though, he was looking at the leader.

              “Let us go, Conan.”  The kindest looking one of the bunch prodded.  “These people need to be left alone.”  When the leader shot him a dark look, the man replied, “they obviously are not the ones we are looking for and they are on their honeymoon.  They did not stop to greet us and we are intruding.”  The leader snorted, but after looking them over just once more, he nodded and turned his horse back onto the trail.  “You would think he had never been a newlywed.”  One of the men commented to the other as the rest followed his lead.

              Ehren watched them until Cecily reached up and touched his face.  Jumping as if startled, he then said, “That was close.”  Cecily nodded and turned his face toward her.  Catching his dark blue eyes she smiled and shook her head toward the disappearing strangers.  Catching her meaning, Ehren smiled and Cecily though her heart was going to climb her throat.  “Just in case,” he said and then leaned down to kiss her again.

              Oran cleared his throat pointedly.  “We should be going,” he announced.

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

   

  © 2007 Rachel Rossano  All rights reserved.  Please do not copy, quote, or reuse this material without the writer's express permission.  Thank you.

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