Abased - The Exiled Warrior

Chapter 1.2 - Funeral

"We're not going to survive in the open!" Tajar shouted over the whistling wind that drove snow into their backs.

An hour earlier they had climbed up and out of the tunnels - thanks entirely to Gretch - and found themselves high up on the bare shoulder of the mountain. There was no shelter, no plant life, just bare, black rock; chipped and cracked by millennia of battling the wind and ice. The horses were nowhere to be seen.

"Light will be gone in less than a hour!" Tajar shouted.

Clarisai pointed downwards. "How long will it take to reach those trees?"

"With him, too long," Greth pointed at Tajar. "Tajar, you are too slow. If we wait for you we will all die."

"I know, you heartless pig. Here," he took off his pack and handed it to Clarisai. "There is a blanket and flint inside."

Clarisai laughed, put the pack on, and took Tajar's hand. "You are going to have to learn to ignore Gretch. Come on," she said. "We can make it."

Gretch did not wait. He pressed ahead and was soon blurred by the snow and fading light. Clarisai wrapped the blanket from Tajar's pack around both of their shoulders. As they limped down the mountain she hummed snatches of a song that was strange to Tajar's ears.

Snow gathered in their hair and trickled down the back of their necks as it melted. Their progress on the snow covered rocks was frustratingly slow. Tajar could not stop his teeth from chattering. All too quickly the remaining light was gone.

Tajar knew what he had to do.

"This is stupid," he said to Clarisai. "Go on. I've had a good life and I do not mind dying."

"Stop being overly dramatic. Why should I leave you when we have reached the trees?" said Clarisai as she pointed ahead. Tajar squinted. She was right, in the near pitch black of night he could faintly see the even darker shapes of small trees against the black sky.

"Now we just need to find Gretch," she declared.

"Why? He left us to die."

"Because we still need him, and he still needs us."

She called his name while they picked their way blindly through the stunted shrubs and trees. Within a few minutes a reply came from in front of them.

"I am here."

"Thank you for returning," she said. "Now what do you think about a fire?"

"It will not hold in this weather," Gretch replied.

"He's right," Tajar begrudgingly agreed. "Our only chance is to build a shelter, eat the tiny amount of food in my pack, and pray."

Together, using their hands instead of their eyes, they built a triangular shelter of twisted branches and coarse shrubs against a stunted tree no taller than Clarisai. It was tiny and drafty, but once they were inside, and had pulled branches over the hole to seal them in, it felt infinitely better than outside it. With shaking hands they ate the scant, stale remains of Tajar's food.

"As much as I hate to say this, we are going to have to huddle together," said Tajar.

The three of them intertwined their arms and wrapped the blanket around their backs as best they could.

"Gretch?" Clarisai asked.

"Yes?"

"When was the last time you bathed?"

"It has been some time."

"I thought as much."

***