The TwiceBorn

This Time of Weariness and Withering

"Find what you love and let it kill you."--Bukowski

He should have taken the head.He could feel the stiff matt of blooded dark curls tickling the palm of his hand as he lifted it up. It would be heavy with blood.  And death. 

And the sword.  Yes,the sword!  The perfect fit of the hilt in the palm of his other hand.  And then...the swing...a nice, low arc that chopped down and that silken shudder as  the edge of the sword bites...just bites in...and through...and how the head would suddenly lose weight as it separated from the body.  And then he'd lift it up. Lift it high over his head and feel the blood run down his arm...because it was his.  It belonged to him.

Gre bit back a groan as Aubery stopped his horse again to gaze back towards the grasslands.  He had lost track of how many times the boy had pulled his horse up to look back.  They hadn't made very good time at all.And with each stop the expression on Aubery's face had slowly driven a chill deeper and deeper into Gre's bones. 

The boy gazed off into the twilight, his face savage and open, with a grin of expectation that stretched his lips into a horrible yet eager mask. Yet there was a certain revulsion for it all in his eyes, Gre had caught a flash of that odd red and gray light which had a lonesome tint to it as Aubery gazed backwards through the oncoming darkness.  Gre was relieved when the sun finally went down so he could no longer see the boy's face.

And still, they continued to stop.  Even the horses were becoming fractious, pawing the ground and tossing their heads in protest against the pressure of the reins.  Gre noticed Islinn had lost her battle to not touch any part of Aubery as she rode behind him. Exhaustion had finally won out, and she slumped against him with her head against his back as she slept.

Gre was glad she was sleeping.  Something told him there wouldn't be much rest for her in the on-coming days.

And so what?  He'd known how it was all going to go down when Behrin had asked him to go and get the girl.

 Not asked though. 

Told.  Told him.

Gre took a swallow of his aleskin and vaguely noticed how light it was in his hand. Plus, he couldn't see a fucking thing and he had no idea where they actually were. They should have stopped and made camp awhile back and he knew this but Aubery's odd-duck behavior had rattled him, not to mention the scene they'd left behind.

He raised the 'skin to his lips again and grinned humorlessly in the darkness.  It would be just his luck to have gotten all turned around only to find out they'd circled The Twiceborn's body and could actually stumble upon it at any moment.

His stomach twisted and he felt a sudden liquid pitch deep down in his bowels.

That couldn't happen...could it?

Gre was past the point of believing anything could go in his favor.  He took a hefty drink and swallowed wrong.  He coughed and pulled up Pixie as his eyes began to burn.  The little horse stopped and gazed stolidly off into the blackness as Gre got himself under control.

Through bleary eyes he glanced at Aubery who'd, once again, stopped and was gazing back across the grasslands. He drew in a deep breath and opened his mouth to tell Aubery that they were lost when his nostrils suddenly caught the light fragrance of lemon ash.  He smiled, relieved.

No, he still had no idea where they were but he knew they weren't circling.  Lemon ash trees meant they were headed in the direction of Fetterton, something that pleased Gre to no end.  Most slavers went through Fetterton, to buy,sell,or trade.