The Mountain Queen

Chapter Two: The Crossing

When I woke it was broad day. Sounds of work drifted up to me from near the river. I felt an immediate pang of envy and indignation; the work of the day had begun, and I had been left out of it! On this day above all others—the day after Cressock's momentous arrival—I wanted to be in the thick of the action, to be doing and observing and perhaps even making decisions of my own.

I slid down the ladder as fast as thought, and bolted out the door of the little cabin. Shamus and Brody were loading gear into our canoe—Brody balanced in the belly of the craft as it bobbed in the still water of the eddy, and Shamus with one foot on each of two rocks that protruded into the water. Between them passed food, furs, blankets, and fishing tackle. It looked like everything we owned.

Father stood nearby on the bank, supervising the process with a mute, keen eye. Cressock was seated comfortably on a rock a little ways to one side. His legs were folded under him, and his eyes were brighter than ever. The way he sat, the cold rock might have been a cushion of silk in a palace chamber. His whole loose body radiated ease.

Cressock glanced in my direction, and smiled at me. It was a vague, casual smile, meaning almost nothing—but it pierced me all the same.

Father's eyes found me a moment later. His face was stern and uncompromising. He was back to himself.

"Get dressed, girl," he said gruffly. "We're going into town."

Those words spoken, Father instantly turned his attention back to the loading of the canoe, imperiously certain of my obedience. I was dressed, of course—we all slept in our clothes—but it was a chill day, and my furs would be needed. I went inside to fetch them.

When I came back out, Shamus and Brody were both seated in the canoe. Father had advanced a couple of paces toward the bank, and Cressock stood beside him, his gaze shifting from the canoe to Father's face.

Father was staring at the canoe with calculating eyes. His hands were on his hips, and he did not look well pleased.

"Never had so much weight in the canoe before," he admitted.

"Must we take all these things?" inquired Cressock. "Is it so far to the town?" His tone was deferential. He watched Father closely.

"Not a question of needing to take 'em. Question of not wanting to leave them here."

"You mean they might be stolen."

Father nodded. "It's a fierce current, and a lonely stretch of bank. Not much to lure a thief here—but one never knows."

Cressock nodded understandingly. His face was grave, as if they were discussing the movements of great armies.

At length, he gestured toward the boat. "May I?"

Father grunted assent, and Cressock leapt lightly into the canoe, landing in its middle, between Shamus and Brody. He shifted his weight experimentally, and the canoe rocked in time with his movements. Then he turned to Shamus.

"How deft are you with a paddle, Shamus?"

Shamus looked at him evenly.

"Deft," he said.

Cressock nodded. He turned to Brody. "And you?"

"Defter."

Cressock grinned. He looked up at Father.

"She'll ride low, but she'll not founder. You have my word."

Father considered this for only a moment. Then he gave a curt nod, and moved forward toward the boat.