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Micky Carre
Micky Carre

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Dragon Riders of Etrea—Chapter 14

They did, in fact, wake with the sunrise. Henrik was naturally an early riser, so he tidied up his things and grabbed some strips of dried meat to snack on as he waited on the sun to finish rising. With all that would be happening in the upcoming days, the peace and quiet were welcomed.

Tobias was next. The soldier rubbed his bleary eyes and looked around for a moment, as if forgetting where he was. He sat up and remained there for a moment, then stifled a jaw-cracking yawn behind his fist.

Henrik waited until half of the sun was above the horizon to wake his friend. Rasud snorted and flopped around like a fish, then his eyes snapped open. He immediately looked over at the sunrise and groaned.

“Oh, you son of a bitch,” he whined. “Come on, ten more minutes.”

“We need to get going,” Henrik said, grabbing his saddle. “We have a long, boring day of riding ahead of us. The sooner we get started, the sooner you get to fantasize about that orc witch-woman.”

“Fair point,” Rasud said. He stretched his neck to each side, then pushed himself to his feet. “I just need a moment.” He looked around for something to sit on, then seeing his saddle, plopped down on it. After that he pulled a staff the length of his forearm from beneath his robe and tapped it on the ground a few times. He chanted something low and tribal-sounding, and the air began to stir.

“What is he doing?” Tobias asked, looking around nervously. 

“He’s just talking with his ancestral spirits,” Henrik said. “He does this sometimes. You can think of it as paying them a visit.”

Faint, wispy forms suddenly appeared, having the rough shape of a person. Four of them floated across the hard ground and formed a half-circle in front of Rasud. He spoke to them, although no sound came from his mouth. Henrik had never fully understood how they did that.

Rasud tapped his short staff on the ground a few times, and the figures turned and walked away. By the time they were ten feet from him, they faded into nothing.

“Well, the good news is I have a solution to our water problem,” he said, standing. “My ancestors have agreed to help me with it. It won’t be fast, but we won’t have to worry about finding a water source any longer.”

“Are they going to fill my water skin with spit?” Henrik asked.

“My ancestors are honorable people. They wouldn’t do that,” Rasud replied. “But no, I asked. They’re going to pull water from the air.”

“So you can pull water from the air,” Tobias said.

“Yes, but it’s much easier to pull it from blood,” Rasud said. “I don’t think anyone here wants to drink blood water, though. I know I certainly don’t.” He grabbed his saddle and heaved it off the ground.

“Here,” Henrik said, taking the saddle from him. He lifted it easily, and walked over to Rasud’s horse. “The blanket.”

“Oh, right,” Rasud said. He hurried over to his horse with the saddle blanket in both hands and threw it over the animal’s back. After a brief adjustment, he nodded and backed away.

Henrik set the saddle on the animal’s back and shifted it into place. “There you go. Consider it payment for handling our water.”

“I’ll accept that,” Rasud said as he began tightening the girth strap.

Henrik walked over and began saddling his own horse. He spent a moment rubbing the animal’s neck—the horses had to be as bored as they were, after all.

“How far do you think we’ll get today?” Tobias asked.

“Twenty or thirty miles,” Henrik said. “We just have to make sure we water the horses. This dry air will leave them thirsty.”

Rasud huffed. “So I’m getting water for the horses as well? How are they going to pay?” He looked at his horse. “Huh? What are you going to do for me?”

“He’s going to carry your lazy ass across the orc wastes so you don’t have to walk,” Henrik said.

Rasud frowned at the horse. “I suppose that’s sufficient.” With a smile he leaned forward and scratched the horse’s head, speaking softly to it.

“Not much out here, is there?” Tobias asked, looking around.

Henrik turned in a slow circle, taking in his surroundings. Much of the ground was hard and dry, and low brown grass covered nearly everything. The horses didn’t seem to mind it. Henrik had a feeling a single rain would turn everything green for a week.

Trees were in particularly short supply. Henrik could only see a handful of them, and those he saw were short and stunted, their gnarled branches twisting up towards the sky. 

“Still looking for a place to build a house?” Henrik asked as he put his foot in his stirrup. He pulled himself into his saddle and got comfortable. He pointed ahead of them. “How about over there, beneath that tree? You’d have some shade.”

“By the gods, no,” Rasud said. “Who would want to live out here? This is horrible. I’m almost ashamed that my ancestors lived out here.”

“It’s a good bit different from the land back in Limestone, that’s for certain,” Tobias said. “Out there they had farms, people, water. You actually saw the color green. This just feels empty.”

“Not entirely empty,” Henrik said, pointing in front of him. It was far away, but he was just able to make out several shapes walking along the horizon. “Deer, I think.”

“Well, at least we’ll be able to eat well,” Tobias said.

“Assuming we can get close to them,” Henrik replied. “They’ll see us coming. Come to think of it, anyone can see us coming. We should probably continue north, towards the base of the mountains. We’ll be better hidden there.”

“Now that is a prime idea,” Rasud said, frowning at his surroundings. “The wild east,” he muttered.

Once Rasud climbed into his saddle, they set off, keeping their horses at a fast walk. Henrik made sure to reach down and rub his horse’s neck every so often. Those beasts were doing the majority of the work. Least he could do was treat them right.

Their morning was as uneventful as could be. Even Rasud stayed mostly quiet; he said he had to ration his jokes so he didn’t run out early. The landscape around them never changed.

Their path angled more towards the north as it took them closer to their target. Henrik asked for the map, and Rasud pulled it from his sleeve and handed it over. He unrolled it and studied it for some time, trying to commit it to memory.

The wizard had said the dragon was a week’s journey through the wastes. As long as the horses were kept healthy and watered, Henrik was certain he could shave a day off of that.

The mountains loomed to the north. Henrik looked to his left and thought he saw the jagged peaks in the distance. Considering how far away they were, that made sense. Those mountains were the southernmost parts of a massive range that spanned far to the north, all the way to Vogar, where the snows fell ten feet deep. Henrik had never even seen snow, so it was hard to imagine that.

“Anything of note?” Rasud asked, nudging his horse closer.

“Just trying to memorize this,” Henrik said, holding the map where Rasud could see it. “If this map is accurate, the mountains cut back right here,” he said as he touched the map. “Then they jut out like a finger. I’m assuming this is a valley. That’s where we’ll enter.”

Rasud nodded. “I’ve never seen mountains, you know. I’m kind of looking forward to it.” 

“Same. Spent most of my life in the city.” Henrik pointed to his left. “We should see the tops of the mountains there soon.”

“Well, at least travel is easy out here,” Tobias said. “Nothing in our way, easy to determine our direction from the sun.”

“Hand me your water skin,” Rasud said.

Henrik passed it over to the small man.

Rasud pulled the stopper from the water skin, then grabbed the short staff from beneath his robe and held it in front of him. He then began chanting in a low voice. He raised Henrik’s water skin while chanting.

The wind always blew out here, but Henrik could feel the change in both direction and intensity. Wispy forms appeared nearby, floating towards Rasud. Tobias just watched them, wide-eyed.

Rasud held the water skin out and spoke to the spirits, his lips moving but no sound coming out. This was different than his usual magic, where he held a staff and chanted. Henrik watched in amazement as one of the smoky figures took his water skin and held it over his head.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Tobias said as he watched.

“Maybe, but at least you won’t be thirsty,” Rasud replied, straightening his robe.

One spirit held the water skin high, while the others moved back and forth through the air, pushing their hands towards it. They worked tirelessly, going through the same motions for what felt like half an hour. Finally, the spirit handed the water skin back to Rasud.

“Here you go,” Rasud said, tossing the skin back to Henrik. “Tobias, your water skin please.”

Tobias threw his empty water skin and Rasud caught it one-handed. He repeated the same process and the spirits spent the next half hour filling his. After that, Rasud had them fill his own water skin.

“That has to be the cleanest water I’ve ever tasted,” Tobias said, looking into his water skin. “Tell your ancestors I said thanks.”

Rasud filled their water skins several times that day, ensuring everyone always had a full supply. They stopped every few hours to water the horses and let them rest. Henrik always took that time to scan the horizon with their looking glass. Each time, he found them completely alone.

Around midday, Henrik pulled a spare shirt from his saddlebags and draped it over his head to keep the sun off. Seeing that, Tobias did the same. Rasud simply pulled his hood forward.

“Don’t you get hot in those robes?” Tobias asked late that afternoon.

“You forget, I’m made for this weather,” Rasud replied simply. “Now, if we were in the cold, that would be a different story. I’d never stop complaining.”

Henrik saw a herd of small deer in the far distance that evening, but they ran away as soon as they detected the three men. Getting close to them would be hard, but it would be worth it for fresh meat.

As the sun fell to the horizon behind them, Henrik steered his party towards a small tree. It was the only one for miles in any direction. When they drew near the tree, he had everyone stop and dismount. It was a good time to rest the horses anyway.

He pulled his heavy belt knife and examined the tree for a moment. Trying to cut through the main trunk would ruin the edge on his blade, but some of the branches would be fine. He hacked at them, and soon had a small pile of wood, the largest of which was nearly the diameter of Rasud’s wrist. He chopped those into reasonable lengths.

“Can your ancestors pull the water from this wood?” Henrik asked.

“Well, that’s a strange question,” Rasud replied.

“Dry wood will burn better,” Henrik explained as he stuffed the branches into one of his saddlebags.

“I can try,” Rasud said.

As they mounted their horses, he called upon his ancestors again. Moments later, one of them pulled the branches from his saddlebag and the others drew their hands down the length of the wood.

Rasud handed one of the spirits a spare water skin, and they quickly filled that with water pulled from the wood. It didn’t take them nearly as long as pulling water from the air.

“It is done,” Rasud said, pushing the stopper in the skin. “That can be for the horses.”

An hour later, they stopped their horses and untacked them, then tried to get comfortable on the hard ground. A long, boring day of travel was done.



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