Shadows of the Soul

Chapter 6

Batry rode before the old man, struggling to keep her eyes open. It was hard, tonight. She wished she could be back in her little straw bed, warm and snug amid the rushes, or even asleep in the saddle, like the old man behind her, though she’d never quite been able to figure out the trick of that. She thought she might have been able to tonight, though. The old man had roused her from a sound sleep and she still felt only half awake.

Though the great Orb had dimmed for the night, still it hung like a lantern above the Redroad. It was so bright it kept making her sneeze, but it made keeping to the road easy, at least. By night Batry thought the Redroad looked more a river than a road, twisting and turning amid the dark oaks of the Stillwood, and the dim light gave it a blue cast instead of the red of sun baked clay it showed by day.

If she closed her eyes she could pretend she was riding on one of the riverboats she had seen pass by so often back home. She could almost feel the river bouncing her up and down on tiny waves, but she knew it was really just the steady up and down of her little splay backed pony.

While Batry still held her eyes shut, pretending, the thin silver cord of the Link grew taut and tugged at her wrist. With a start, Batry pulled back on the reins of her pony, stopping the beast, and spun around to check on the old man. She had heard him rumble in his sleep as his wrist was jerked forward by the Link, and his donkey had whickered softly, but he had not woken.

She let out a sigh of relief. He would not have been cross with her even if she’d pulled him tumbling out of the saddle, she knew that, but she hated to wake him just the same. He was very old, and he never got enough sleep. Sometimes, Batry woke in the night to find him staring sightlessly out the window of their little hovel at the stars above, and it seemed he did not sleep at all.

But he slept now. Batry found the soft, wheezing snores rising behind her very reassuring. Sure now that the old man was well and resting, she started her pony forward again as she silently scolded herself for not paying attention and letting the Link go taut. She knew better. She was ten now, and the old man trusted her. Needed her. She was his eyes, his strength. She had to do better. The old man was blind, and without the silver cord of the Link binding them wrist to wrist, without Batry guiding him on the other end, he was as helpless as a babe.

The old man was her Reeshi, her teacher-father, as they called it in the strange language of the old man’s homeland. Not her real father, of course—he’d died a long time ago and Batry could barely remember him. But a Reeshi was almost as good, and the old man was a very good Reeshi. He taught her all sorts of things. How to start fires, how to set snares. How to count the stars, which he always said she was very quick with, and how to tickle fish with her fingertips. He taught her the strange secrets of Qa and told her long, winding tales of the Gods That Were. He’d even started teaching her how to read, though that was very hard for him, blind as he was.

A sound from behind pulled her from her thoughts and made her turn around once more. It was not the familiar, rasping in and out of her Reeshi’s snoring that caught her attention, nor the slow clip clop of the donkey’s hooves on the hard packed clay, but instead a distant thundering far off down the road, back towards the village. Someone was coming down the road, and coming very fast.

Her Reeshi’s head perked up as the sound brought him out of sleep. He licked his wrinkled lips, cocked his head to the side. His hearing was very good.

“Come, my little brave one,” he said to her, as he pulled the nose of his donkey toward the trees left of the road. “Off the road, now. Let us give whoever goes in such a hurry no cause to slow.”

He gave the donkey a gentle kick in the ribs as he urged it toward the woods, but click his tongue as he might, the willful beast paid him no mind, and instead kept on the easier footing of the road. Batry could not help but smile at her Reeshi. He could never quite bring himself to kick the donkey hard enough.