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    Refugium
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

The Center of the World - 4. The Road West

Chapter 4 -- Saghir and Pireno begin their journey to the homeland of the giants.

At first Saghir and Pireno followed the same road back west. The going was gently downhill most of the way. Saghir’s pace was still slow at first, but within a few days Pireno found it a challenge to keep up.

Late on a cold, drizzling day, Pireno saw a single farm a short distance from the road. “Master, let’s ask if we can stay there tonight. Maybe in the barn. It would be so good to be indoors tonight.”

Saghir shook his head doubtfully and said simply, “Man.”

“Please, Master. Think of it. Nice, dry, warm straw to sleep in. And roll in.”

“All time you want this roll in straw.”

“In the absence of hay. Come on, it doesn’t hurt to ask.”

“Ask not hurt. Hurt when man try kill.”

“There are only two of us -- how much of a threat could they think we are?”

“You much want this.”

“Oh, you have no idea.”

Saghir looked confused. “I? Many idea got.”

“No, it’s an expression. ‘You have no idea,’ like ‘You can’t imagine.’ It means it’s very very true, more true than you would ever think was possible.”

Saghir considered the phrase. “Yu khahv nah-oo ah-ee-dee-ah. You have no idea.” He sighed. “I think they not love we.”

“It will be fine. I’ll do the talking.”

They approached the farm. A middle-aged woman saw them, screamed, and ran into the farmhouse. A moment later the middle-aged farmer and his four sturdy sons, armed with spears and bows and arrows, came out to face the travelers.

“We don’t want to fight, but we’re ready to if you try anything. And if there are more of you, we’re ready for that, too. Turn around and get off my land.”

Pireno bowed slightly. “Sir, we don’t want a fight either. We would like permission to sleep in your barn, just one night. We can work in the morning to pay you. There are only the two of us. My name is Pireno and this is Saghir. I am in his service.”

The farmer eyed Saghir suspiciously. “Don’t want no giant hanging around.”

“A giant can be very useful if you need any boulders moved, tree stumps pulled up, anything like that.”

“My sons and me, we handle all the work here just fine. Don’t want no giant messing it up.”

“Sir, all we want is a dry place to sleep. We won’t disturb anything.”

The farmer seemed at a loss. To Pireno he said, a little more quietly, “Is he holding you prisoner?”

Pireno grew impatient with the man’s attitude. “No, actually, he is my prisoner. When I say I am in his service, I mean I am serving the authorities to bring him in for trial.”

The farmer looked from Pireno to Saghir and back again. “On what charges?”

“Crimes too numerous to mention.”

“So you’re telling me that you’re bringing him to the law courts?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And that you’re dragging him in against his will. Now how are you managing to make him do what you want?”

“I have my ways.” Pireno heard Saghir suppressing a laugh.

The farmer said, “Is that so?”

“You have no idea,” Saghir said, dissolving into giggles. The farmer’s sons trained their weapons on him. He raised his hands.

“Word straight,” Saghir managed to get out. “He know from man far East, how fight enemy more big as he. Much more big as he.” He mimed, grabbing his own wrist, making a tumbling-rolling motion with his hands, and leaning back with his hands outstretched and his tongue out as if he had been thrown flat on his back. Then he doubled over, convulsed in laughter.

The farmer was in no mood for this. “What are you two? What’s he to you? What are you to him?”

Pireno had had enough. Distinctly and slowly, he said, “He’s my lover.”

The farmer’s face hardened. “Get off my land.”

Pireno addressed Saghir. “Come, prisoner. I will tolerate no more of these antics. The magistrates want you delivered by midwinter’s day.” He took Saghir’s hand and led him off. Saghir managed to control his mirth enough to follow.

When they reached the road again, Pireno said, “Well, it was worth a try.”

“Ask not hurt,” Saghir responded, still chuckling.

“I just hope we don’t get this kind of reception from everybody.”

“Maybe more good I say word he, I give gold.”

“Yes, but what would we have done when we had to pay?”

“Give gold.”

“Wait a minute -- are you saying you really have gold?”

“Ya. Gold from village time, you make jewel. I got.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You not ask.”

“Oh, I would have liked to see his expression, not wanting a giant around, but hearing that gold calling to him, calling, calling, ‘Don’t give in to fear -- give in to greed.’”

That night they slept under fir trees, not quite dry and not quite warm, but smiling.

************

The next morning they followed the road again until they came to a river. It flowed northwest, and Saghir thought it would lead where he wanted to go, the northern port town of Luzig. The convenience of bathing in the river was a big attraction for him.

As they prepared to settle in one evening, Pireno found a trapper’s snare. “Do you think there’s someone trapping around here?”

Saghir looked at the snare. “Old. Not now.”

Pireno put it out of his mind as they made camp, ate, bathed, and, since the weather was warm, started having sex outside.

The sound of branches being pushed aside was followed by a voice saying, “Whoa! Hey! Sorry!”

Saghir and Pireno turned to see a man quickly backing away from them. Pireno raced to put his clothes on and run after the man. Saghir waved his hand and said, “Let go! Let go!”

“But he might know the country around here. We could be a mile from a road and never know it.” To the man he called, “Wait! Come back!”

The man had drawn his knife when Pireno caught up with him. “I didn’t see anything. I don’t know anything. I don’t want to get involved. I’m just a trapper, minding my own business.”

Pireno panted a moment. “Well, it was a little embarrassing, but I guess it was bound to happen sooner or later. Listen, maybe you could help me out. You probably know the country around here pretty well, right?”

The trapper was still guarded. “You need help? I mean, I can’t fight a giant or anything, but if you’re trying to escape, I might be able to point you in the right direction. I mean, that stuff he was forcing you to do back there...”

“He wasn’t forcing me to do anything. We’re sort of -- um -- partners. We’re trying to get to Luzig. Is there a road near here that would lead there?”

“Not that I know. You’ll have to go through the mountains.” He pointed west, then stared at Pireno. “You mean he wasn’t making you do those things?”

“No, he wasn’t.”

“You mean, you like that?”

“As a matter of fact, yes, I do.”

The trapper raised his eyebrows. “Well, you know, if you need directions, I could guide you some of the way. Of course, one good turn deserves another. I mean, if you can do that with him, it should be pretty easy for you to do it with me. Or if you’d rather, you could just do it with him and I could watch.”

Oh, for the Gods’ sake, Pireno thought. Good, wholesome country life -- nothing but prejudice and perverts. “No, thanks. Um -- I guess we’ll just find our own way. Thanks just the same.”

“Your decision.”

Pireno walked back to Saghir. “Well, that was another bad idea.”

“He not know land here?”

“He might, but the price for the information was too high. All I got out of him was that we’ll have to cross those mountains.”

“I know this, he not hafta say.” Saghir was silent a moment, then said hopefully, “Now we can fuck?”

************

They followed the river for several more days. Then Saghir judged that they needed to go more directly west, across the mountains. They struck out across country toward what looked like the lowest point in the chain of peaks to the west.

The weather turned wetter. As they climbed, the air was colder. It snowed once, then again, then repeatedly. Pireno trudged behind Saghir, attempting to step in his footsteps when he could. He was barely keeping up. Saghir picked him up a few times and carried him on his shoulders.

There wasn’t much game. They ate mostly from their supplies of grain and dried meat. It was difficult just trying to get a fire started at night.

As Pireno struggled, Saghir took over more and more of the work of setting up camp and preparing food, and he carried almost all their gear. When Pireno’s sniffles turned to a constant cough, Saghir stopped them at midday and set up camp at the base of an overhanging rock, bundled Pireno up, and made him rest that day and the next. The following day Pireno forced himself to continue. He was working on his second tally string and couldn’t remember if he had missed a day. Looking back at the butterfly knots tied during Saghir’s recuperation, he remembered it as a happy, easy time.

In two more days they reached the crest of a pass. Looking west, they could see the lights of a city, and an ocean beyond it.

“Luzig,” Saghir said.

It was a great relief to be going downhill and have a goal in sight. But Pireno was still unwell and shuffled unsteadily. A day later they found a road, and two days later they stood at the outskirts of Luzig. Saghir could see many people on its streets, busily going here and there.

“Man,” Saghir said, shaking his head.

Pireno wasn’t noticing much; he was tottering behind Saghir, eyes barely open.

As they approached an inn, Pireno stumbled, then fell. Saghir picked him up and carried him inside, stooping through the doorway and standing with his head grazing the ceiling. All talk in the inn stopped. Pireno’s eyes were closed.

Saghir addressed the owner. “Want sleep place, food. Man hafta sleep.”

The owner said loudly, “We don’t have any rooms that will fit the likes of you.” He spoke the same language as Pireno, but in a very different accent, difficult for Saghir to understand.

Saghir held up a gold coin.

The owner said quietly, “I can give you something to eat, but you’ll have to come around to the back.”

Pireno coughed. Saghir ducked through the door and carried him to the back of the inn, where the owner gave them two bowls of stew and half a loaf of bread. Saghir’s gold piece was a steep price. But Saghir said only, “Where animal sleep? Horse, ox?”

“I have a stable.”

“We sleep there.”

“That’ll be another gold piece. Take any empty stall.”

Saghir gave the man another coin. “Water?”

“There’s a pump in the courtyard.”

Saghir carried Pireno into the stable. He spread fresh straw in a stall. He ate his stew and bread and left the other bowl by Pireno. He couldn’t stretch out, so he curled his body around the half-size frame of his lover.

Pireno mumbled, “You spread the straw. That’s my job. I’m sorry.”

“Bilinu,” Saghir said, wrapping his arms around him. “Khusla bik.” And they slept.

Next: City Life
Copyright © 2016 Refugium; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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On 03/30/2016 07:29 AM, Stephen said:

Damn, life is hard here in this world!

Things do get better.

Next chapter tomorrow evening.

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