The Long Road To... - 22. Long Time, No Sea

Slipping away had been simple. Finding the road to Greenwater, just as easy. I rode at a steady, quick gait in case they might follow. I knew I was being stupid, but all the same, I kept up the pace.

When the lonely, abandoned campsite came into view, I realized how fast and far I had come. They would not catch up now. Not with the slow walk they would set or the delay of actually having to meet with the elders in the pass. They would not rush that, it would be disrespectful if they did. They would have to stop.

I trotted off trail along the stream towards the hill. It was only known to a few of us and would be a safe place to stay for the night. It was so far off the road, they would miss me if they came through on the way to Greenwater.

I came to the hill as the sun was setting. I led the horse all the way around and up to the top. All quiet with the sounds of nature. I dismounted and tied off the horse with its long grazing tether. I made my way the fire pit we three had used in what seemed another life.

Not used since, it seemed. How long ago was that anyway?

I sat on one of the rocks nearby. In the growing shadows I could see something on the ground leaning on the stone across the pit. I approached slowly and realized there was more than one.

I picked one up and held it high to catch the light. A totem, like one from home, but it wasn’t right somehow. The style was wrong. It was a copy, an attempt by an unskilled amateur to recreate something foreign to him. I hesitantly picked up a second one. This one had been painted blue. I dropped them immediately and stepped back.

They had returned here.

I fell forward and clutched at them all.

All four.

Four.

I slept clutching the memorial to our friendship in my hands.

~ ~ ~

I woke early in the morning with a headache and neck pain. The ground I had ended up sleeping on was hard. The totems were next to me and I could see them clearer in the rising sun. There was the blue one, one with bright coloring to represent bright colored hair, and two more, similar enough to represent the Bullmen, one now dead and the other long gone. I did not recall the dirt mound I had slept next to from the last time, but, there were a great deal of things I did not remember anymore. I arranged the foursome neatly next to the mound. I watched them sit for a time.

The horse whined. Yes, we should get going. I saddled and un-tethered the horse then stood for a moment and looked at the little row of friends.

It was better to leave them here, together.

I walked the horse down to the pond and let it drink. At the same time, I searched for a place for another burial. I stripped off the cloak from Phaetheon with its beautiful crescent over green-blue. I wrapped much of what I had in terms of coins, also given to me by Phaetheon, inside, along with the memories. I hoped that I had allowed myself enough money for the trip as I dug down into the soil. No matter, I always came up with what I needed somehow.

A few well placed stones on top and I was ready to go. My ride was too. I climbed on and started away without looking back.

In Greenwater, I sold the horse and its gear to a trader I did not recognize. I ate in a little shack of an inn far away from the dock and listened for word of ships leaving as soon as possible.

One boat was leaving in the morning for destinations on the other side of the glacier. That would be good enough.

The captain was skeptical by the sight of me, my wish to board immediately, and desire to stay below deck overnight. An extra coin made him forget his apprehension.

I stayed down below the entire trip.

We docked at the little village where we had met the doctor. I waited on board watching the men unload. Nearby, another ship was taking on goods. I disembarked and found the first mate of the other vessel. They were heading to Shield Keep but were making another stop in between, from there, I could surely catch a caravan to Bald Cliff. He even mentioned that there had been another foreigner, one with blue skin, that they had taken all the way to the Keep weeks before.

As it happened, I had to wait an extra day at the second village to wait for traders. The relative safety of the caravan more than made up for the time spent sitting idle. I was too old to be traveling the cold tundra alone anyway.

It was at the Hold where I first began hearing of news of home. The war had claimed a lot of lives and land. It sounded like my people had been driven mostly out of our ancestral homes. Refugees were streaming into Arrowpoint, Bald Cliff, and other, larger, more defendable settlements. We were doing better in other fronts.

Swordblade was having its share of problems and the alliance of our enemies was showing signs of cracking. There was even word that some of those races were now refusing to fight side by side.

The time aboard ship between Bald Cliff Hold and my homelands, I kept to myself and dreamed of the village where I was born and prayed to the Earth Father that I still might find a home in what was left of the world. Once, finally across the seas, I joined the short final walk inland to Arrowpoint.

The city was more crowded, dirty, and desperate than I remembered. Although it was the home and capitol to our allies, it was crowded with our people, the Bulls. It also seemed more patriotic, more allied in its own way. Our banners flew side by side with our friend’s everywhere. Wherever I looked, our peoples were down but not defeated.

We would rise again it seemed.

I stopped at an inn to ask about the mountains where my village was located, for word, for anything. The keeper said he did not know but instead directed me to another establishment where he thought those from my people tended to congregate. It was as easy to find, as I apparently was.

“Talon!”

I turned to see another Bull like me who was familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. I had to focus on the face. He coughed.

“Colt?”

“Talon! Good man! Come, come sit with me!” He coughed again.

It was indeed him, most of him. The side of his face had been burned along with one arm. When he stood, he could not see to stand up straight. His leg had been broken and not set correctly. He suddenly looked old to my old eyes.

“What…”

He waved off the question. “Old news man. A raid, a fire, a lucky bastard, and a luckier one.” He pointed a thumb to himself. His chuckle turned into a rasping cough.

“Where have you been then, eh?” He gulped from his tankard. “Not in Parrot Bay all this time? Heh!” He grabbed the arm of a barmaid. “One for my old friend, yes.”

“The tundras.”

“That’s right! Wish I had gone with you now.” He chuckled to himself, again his voice turning to a rasp. “Look at that now!” He leaned to me and touched my shirt. “Nice stuff.”

A tankard was set in front of me and a hand into my face. I paid her and pointed to another for Colt.

“Been doing good for yourself, yes.” He took another large chug to finish his. “How’s Thorn then?”

My brain stopped for a moment. Colt did not even seem to notice as he accepted another mug from the wench.

“Dead.” It sounded too hollow, too inadequate.

He stopped mid swig and looked up at me. “Damn. Sorry man. I always liked him. He talked too much but he was a good man.” He set his tankard back down. “Damn shame.” He hacked a few times to clear his throat.

We both sat for a while drinking and listening to the people around us.

“Home?”

He looked up at me again with a mixture of surprise and amusement before gesturing around us. “Here is home. Now. Well, sort of. Come, I will take you there.”

I followed him out into the street and crisscrossed the alleys and hovels. He moved slowly, limping on his bad leg with the aid of a crutch and stopping to catch his breath. “They burned us out,” he was saying. “Every home in the village. No place to go but here. Those of us who could leave anyway.”

On the end of the city, under the shadows of the walls, rows of shacks were crammed together. Into the chaos he led me until he reached an open door.

“Mane!” He called in. No response. “He must be out with his friends. It is only he and I left you see. Well this is it.” He gestured and I peered in. Little more than a bed of straw and tattered blankets. A tiny place for him and his remaining son. There had been three and a daughter too. “You see now why I spend more time out. Never thought I would end up in a place like this.”

We sat and leaned on the wall. A few coughs and he settled in peacefully.

“Times change.” He did not sound bitter or angry. Not like the old Colt I knew. More resigned to his fate. His destiny: to die in a slum, in a city that was not his home, sick, broken, and penniless. I searched my pocket and pulled out a some coin.

He looked at me and a soft tear formed in his eye. His hand was gentle as he pushed mine away. “No, my old friend, money truly won’t help me now. I am beyond that.”

I pulled his hand to me and slid the money into his palm. He looked away as he closed his fingers over the money and hid his hand in his pocket. He was still proud enough not to say thank you.

“I just wish I could do better for my son.”

More silence.

Mane returned a short while later. He had grown to be a handsome young man with his father’s looks. Through the years he had been the one who was around but not visible. His quiet nature kept him hidden away from life in doing chores and working hard letting others like his father and brothers be in the spotlight.

“You remember Talon,” Colt gestured to me and coughed.

“Yes sir.” His voice was even, respectful. He shook my hand firmly, not overbearing.

“Any work today?” Colt voice sounded hopeful. Mane only shook his head and dropped two small coins in Colts hand.

“Been shit since we came. Too many people in the city now.” Colt leaned back, sighed, and cleared his throat.

“Sorry Father.” Again, the same respectful tone.

Colt touched his knee. “It’s alright son.”

~ ~ ~

Mane and I went and got food for supper and we returned to their shack. While we ate, I learned more about what was left of my own birthplace. Not much, as I understood it. There was no reason to continue on that way anymore. What was not burnt to the ground, had been taken away by looters. The enemy troops had not even bothered to stay. A wasteland now. Of my family, Colt knew nothing.

“If they were lucky they made it out. None here that I have seen. They could be anywhere or…” He did not finish and did not need to.

Alone again.

Colt coughed.

Mane looked away.

The sun was setting.

“Best find a place for you to sleep,” Colt said. “I’d offer you accommodations, but well…” His rasp cut off his speech.

“Yes, before the thugs come out.”

I looked at Mane.

“When it gets dark, it can get bad.” He shook his head.

“Yes, Mane, take him someplace nice.” He looked at me. “Are you going to head out soon?”

I nodded.

“Stop by here before you go and we can catch up. Maybe even remember the good times.”

Mane brought me to regular inn elsewhere in the city.

“Be sure to lock your door before you turn in.” He smiled briefly. “Goodnight.”

~ ~ ~

I brought food with me. Mane was already gone, out looking for work. Colt was sitting where I had left him last night with a woman.

“Talon this is Claw.”

I nodded. We ate and talked about people that we knew and, if we knew where they were, where they were. Claw said that she had heard my brothers were marching with our forces to defend Oxenajo at the mouth of the mountain valley where the current capitol to our people, the Bullmen, lay. That was before the burnings.

“I will let you boys talk.” She leaned to Colt and kissed him. “Hope to see you later Talon.” She walked away and out of sight.

I looked at Colt. He was watching her leave intently. Hopeful, even now it seemed. Hot-blooded inside.

He caught me watching him and blushed. “I’m not dead yet!” He laughed and coughed.

I couldn’t help but smile.

He smiled back then his face changed. It was more serious and desperate. He produced the money I had given him with a few extra coins. At a guess, it was all he had.

“I have something I want you to do for me.”

The coins glinted in his hand.

“Take Mane out of here. He is the last of my family. He deserves better. I can’t do it.”

My mouth went slack.

“I am too sick. I will die here. Claw will see me through.” He went into another rasping fit.

“Mane is a good boy. He would stay with me, but he can’t. He can’t. He is good with his hands. He can do anything. A trade. Just not here.”

I looked at him intently. “And you? Leaving you?”

“We can tell him that I will follow later, when he has the money to send for me. Something like that.” He looked down. “Maybe when I was more fit to travel? Like that.” His eyes were watery. “Please?” He whispered. “Anywhere but here.”

My oldest remaining friend in the entire world. We had seen much together. Sometimes it had seemed like we had fought each other more than our enemies.

I sighed out.

“You don’t have to adopt him. He is old enough. Just find a place to get him started. A new life where he can earn honest money, find a wife, have children. My family can go on.” He coughed again. “Hell! I don’t even care if he weds one of those jungle people with all those piercings and strange colors in their hair. So long as he is happy and free. He can‘t be saddled with me.”

His family pride, something that I had not really had, was still important to him. It seemed there was still more to him than I had known: it seemed he genuinely wanted Mane to be happy and live a full life. It was in his determined face. He would sacrifice himself to make that happen.

He rasped. His breath was sharp.

Maybe it was not that much of a sacrifice. If he was really that sick… who knew how long he really had.

Who knew how long any of us had.

I stood. He grabbed at my hand.

“Talon?”

I looked down and into his tired, watery eyes, and nodded.

“Earth Father Bless You,” He whispered.