The Taleweaver

Braka, part four

An endless snake, not of scales, but of men, horses and wagons. The train seemed to go on forever. They were almost at their goal now, and news about their arrival were sure to be buzzing around the capital. So close to Braka, maybe already there. Borders were not as clear here on the plains as closer to Keen, but there was a hint of salt in the air, and birds he hadn't seen since he last visited Hasselden flew past them from time to time, and all those signs told him they were closer to the sea now.

Braka boasted a small port, the only of its kind in human control this side of the mountains, and he hoped to reach it within a few days. From there it should be little more than an eightday to Belgera, the inland capital of Braka.

Harbend decided to leave the rear of the column and ride ahead. They had very little livestock left and would need to buy some when they arrived at the port. Maybe they could get a fair volume of fish. That would certainly be a treat after too much horseflesh and lizard. Only Arthur got exited when they brought in a lizard, but he displayed an inappropriate interest in anything with six legs.

Arthur, dear Arthur. After all this, and when he was finally safe he complained about losing his electrical book. Something about important notes lost. Harbend shook his head. He continued riding for a while. He didn't expect to meet up with Arthur, Gring and Escha as they probably rode with the vanguard now when both of the mages had received enough mental healing according to Neritan.

Chaijrild stayed with her mother most of the time, but she was young enough to discard some bad memories and grow back into her usual insolent, cheerful self. Escha, that was another debt unpaid. A man lost, and even though Harbend would never understand the love between two men he respected the Transport Khar too much to deny it had been there.

Harbend slowly shook his head. What should they do with Gring? Only recently released from the care of Neritan and once more running with the vanguard. Outcast from her own. He wondered if the Khraga living in Ri Kordari would accept her, and if she would accept them. Another debt.

Pushing the thoughts from his mind Harbend rode in search for Nakora. She would know how to divert his thoughts to more pleasurable paths. He smiled as he willed his horse into a slow gallop. Thinking of her made it easy to smile. There was more than joy in the thought, he admitted. He was falling in love with the radiant captain from Ri Khi, had been for a while now, and there was nothing he could do about it, nothing he wanted to do about it. She made him feel like the man his father had wanted him to be, or more than that. She made him feel like the man he wanted himself to be, which was far, far more important.

Maybe Uncle Ramdar had known more than Harbend had been willing to admit. There had been an undertone to the words about a unique quality each clan needed to display, an undertone that slowly made sense. Each person had to provide something more than obedience to traditions, or the traditions themselves would grow stale. Enough reason for such a peculiar demand as every clan represented something each family strove to become.

The snow around him still spelled winter, and winter it would be for some eightdays yet where they were. Harbend sighed. Keen was sure to show the first signs of spring already, especially Hasselden. The port was the first to throw off the clutch of winters never very cold to begin with.

It would be good to be somewhere warm now. Harbend longed for flowers and the fragile green of spring. Snow had once been an uncommon reason for joy, but now he had had enough of it to last a lifetime. He failed to understand how anyone in their right mind could want to live in a cold, barren wilderness. Always the snow covered plains with hardly a tree to break the monotony, only the wooded mountainsides painting a blue line far to the southwest.

At least riding banished some of the cold from him. A little while later, when he finally caught sight of Nakora, he felt a peculiar warmth streaming through his body.