The Weaver's Source

Chapter 23

I woke at dawn. The sun was edging above the cold world, shedding some light into the dense forest. The world was grey with early morning mist and the earth was damp from dew. My clothes were slightly wet. I tentatively woke Gerald who still slept in my arms, snuggled close. He stirred slowly and pushed himself away from me with his single hand. While he rubbed his eyes, his stomach gurgled horribly. I realised then we hadn't eaten for some time now. We needed food, especially Gerald. I just didn't know I to get hold of something substantial.

"There should be plenty of autumn berries." I said when Gerald's stomach gurgled loudly again.

"Do you know what we can eat?"

"I'd go rooting about in the woods when I was little, picking berries and anything I could find. I know some."

He smiled a little. "You remember something at least."

I tilted my head and returned the smile. "I suppose I do."

He stood up, tugging at my shirt when I took my time. I checked my pack, ensuring the book and what little coin I had was safe and paused. Inside I found a knife. I picked it up and observed for a moment, letting it glint in the sunlight. It was old and knackered but strangely it felt familiar to me. Something warm swelled inside me; happiness or contentment I think. I tucked it away, pleased I had a weapon to defend myself and Gerald with, then wandered after him.

He darted ahead of me, searching bushes and shrubs here and there for the berries I described. I smiled softly as I watched him. For a child who just had his arm hacked off in the last day, he was surprisingly happy and quick. Sometimes I noticed him standing there, smiling at me, then a look of confusion took over. I guess he thought he was waving with his arm and forgot for a moment that he'd lost it. Instead of crying or getting sad, he would shrug and try again, this time with the other arm. He was very strong for such a young child.

"Here!" Gerald cried.

We'd been searching for half an hour now. Most of what we found either looked suspicious or were poisonous. He pointed to a large bush with thick pointed leaves and small round red berries.

"Mother would send me out for these sometimes with my sisters. She used them in pies." He said as he began to pick them off and pop them into his mouth.

I picked a few and settled down on a rotten log. He joined me, keeping close as a chill wind rushed through the trees. He let the berries he held roll onto his lap where he could pick out the ones he wanted.

"Where will we go?" He asked me as he nibbled away at his food.

I frowned. "I'm not sure. My memory is still foggy." I sighed. "I guess the first thing to do is get out of this wretched forest and find somewhere safe to stay until my memories return."

Gerald hummed in agreement. "There is a town somewhere nearby, the one I told you about. Father often went there."

"So we keep going onwards."

He nodded. We finished quickly then put a few berries in our pockets to keep us going. We marched through the trees, getting warmer as our bodies worked and the air became a little milder with the rising sun. I was content, even if a little pained at my lack of memories. Gerald kept my spirits. He chatted to me noisily, laughing and often pointing out deer and birds enthusiastically. Something about the woods worried me still. I knew dangers lurked here, dangers I didn't want to find but would find me regardless. I just hoped we would reach the end of this endless sea of trees soon. I didn't like this uneasy feeling at all.

Onwards we went, over small streams and through little gaps in the forest where grass grew to my knees. Nothing bothered us. No wolf, bear or beast. That was until we heard the sound of howling.