Ghost Fields - Book One of The Fields of Mendhavai Trilogy

Chapter Four

The morning sunlight streamed into the roofless hut, shining on my face. There was a warm presence at my side and I reached over to find the wolf had moved inside to lie there sometime in the night. I stretched and yawned, and rolled to my side facing the wolf, lazily scratching it behind the ears while the rest of my senses awoke. A shadow fell across the empty doorway and Lundir’s big black head appeared, forelock falling over his eyes. He nickered at me, bobbing his head.

“Yes, love. I’m awake.” I got up, careful not to disturb the sleeping canid.

At the pipe feeding the water trough I rinsed and refilled my water skin and drank deeply of the pure, cold spring water. Then I took my boots and gave them a good dunking in the overflow, rinsing out the muck from the swamp until the water I poured from them ran clear. I soaked and wrung out my stockings as well, laying them and the boots in the sun to dry while I washed then saddled Lundir. I left his bridle off so he could continue grazing while I dug through the bags and found a hunk of cheese and some flat bread for breakfast.

“I think we’re going to have to leave your friend here,” I told the horse while I ate. “I don’t think traveling up the mountain with us would be any help to its healing.” He bobbed his head as if in agreement.

After brushing the breadcrumbs from my tunic, I put on my light mail and chewed another piece of willow bark as I repacked the saddlebags. I heard the wolf whining softly when it noticed me packing up my things. I knelt at its side and buried my fingers in its thick fur, rubbing gently.

“We’re going up the mountain. I don’t think you would enjoy the ride. Apethna willing, we should be back before dark, or, at the latest, midday tomorrow.” I lay a bit of the cheese and a piece of the flat bread I’d saved near its muzzle. “I’m sorry I haven’t got any meat for you.” I patted its neck, spit out the bark and stuffed it in the piece of bread, then got to my feet and went out the door.

Checking my boots and stockings I found them still damp so I tied them to the saddle on top of my bedroll, hoping they would dry before I needed them. Quickly, I rinsed the mud from my feet as well; I should have washed them last night before I’d fallen asleep but the events of the day had exhausted me more than I’d realized. Lundir dropped his head so I could bridle him and then stood calmly as I swung into the saddle.

He was well rested but seemed content to keep his pace at a brisk walk, flicking his ears back and forth at the sounds of the forest and occasionally swishing his long tail at a bug. The road continued around the base of the mountain for a couple of furlongs.

After rounding yet another bend in the winding road, I gasped as we entered a large clearing ringed in granite columns that stood twice my height. A few of them had toppled over, one leaning across the base of a statue depicting our Goddess Apethna. I’d seen the image in the books Jaden had shown me, but the simple drawings had not prepared me for the feeling of peace and love that settled into my bones at the sight of the Goddess’s likeness. It felt as though this place was frequented by the Goddess herself.

Beams of early morning sunlight streamed in through the branches of the tall ancient pines, illuminating the figure who stood tall and proud. She’d been carved with a long toga draping her lithe body and trailing on the ground. A jagged scar split her face vertically from hairline to the base of her chin to depict the Two-Faced Goddess. On the right, her lips were set in grim determination, her eyes steely and hard, the Face of Protection; and on her left she wore a smile and her eyes were filled with kindness, the Face of Love. In her left hand she held a crescent moon and stars, and in her right, the sun. Small stone animals of the woods and fields seemed as if they’d gathered around her feet, gazing at her with wonder and love.