friend,” he said. “Accept nothing without knowing
the facts of it.”
“Quit your badgering,” Tristam said. “And
mind your tongue; we’re into the wilds now.”
Drefan and Kar turned to see that Alto had
set the brake on the wheel. The portcullis was raised high enough
for them to ride through. Kar nodded appreciatively. “We’ll have
you pulling wagons by yourself in no time.”
“Kar!”
Kar waved Tristam’s rebuke away. Alto mounted
Sebas and took his place in line at the rear, next to Karthor. They
rode through the gate and on to a wide stone bridge that spanned a
gorge. Alto looked over the edge as far as he dared and saw a river
below.
“Mind your balance,” Karthor suggested. “It’s
not a hundred feet but that’s not a dive many men could hope to
survive.”
Alto nodded and straightened on Sebas. He
felt lightheaded just from looking at the edge and beyond. He
didn’t want to think of what falling from the bridge would be like.
Staring straight ahead, he saw the Northern Divide rise
majestically ahead of them. It looked like he could touch the
clouds if he could climb the highest peaks. Of course, then the
river would be an even farther fall if he should slip. It wasn’t
until they crossed the thirty-foot span of the bridge that his
chest opened up to allow a full breath.
The terrain turned immediately into rugged
and rocky landscape. The road branched off, with a smaller and less
used path following the northern edge of the chasm to the west. The
main road continued into the mountains, heading up an incline that
soon turned into a valley between rising ridges that blocked the
morning sun.
Alto stared about as they rode, hearing the
echoing sound of their horses’ hooves. Other noises of nature
joined them, the tune of a songbird and the cry of squirrels that
scampered between the evergreens on the rocky hills. The trees grew
thinned as they climbed higher into the mountains. A small stone
skipped off the path on Alto’s right, startling him and Sebas.
The falling rock drew Alto’s attention to the
ground, rather than the mountains around and ahead of them. He
cocked his head and, without thinking, pulled Sebas to a halt. Alto
climbed down from the horse and knelt to get a closer look at the
disturbance in the ground.
“Alto!” Karthor hissed. “What is it?”
“I’m not sure,” Alto admitted.
“Tristam, hold a moment,” Karthor called up,
though his voice was pitched so it wouldn’t carry.
Tristam and the others stopped, each turning
to see what was amiss. The leader of the Blades rode back and kept
his shadow away from Alto before asking. “Forgot you’re a tracker;
what’ve you found?”
Alto let the part about being a tracker
slide. Sure, he could track a wounded animal through the woods but
his father had told him stories of real trackers. He had none of
their skill or patience. “Rocky ground,” Alto said with a glance
around them. “No real way to track much on this, but the ground’s
been scuffed up here and many rocks turned over. Maybe something
was dragged or fell down?”
“Or maybe someone,” Kar said. He stepped past
Alto and plucked out a tuft of fur wedged in the crack of a
rock.
“People don’t have fur,” Alto said.
“Oh really?” Kar turned to stare at the
rolled up wolf pelt stored on Sebas. Alto got the message and
clamped his mouth shut.
“Kelgryn then,” Tristam grunted.
“Again with the Kelgryn?” the wizard
muttered. He shook his head in disapproval. “What about mountain
men? Or normal men—hides are cheaper than clothing sewn from wool,
cotton, or silk.”
“Aye, but there’s a lot of things that keep
pointing to the Kelgryn.”
“A lot of convenient things,” Kar
corrected.
“Be silent!” Drefan hissed from the front of
the companions.
The others fell silent and stared at him. One
at a time, they looked around and then cocked their heads,
listening to the wind that brushed the mountains and the animals
and
the facts of it.”
“Quit your badgering,” Tristam said. “And
mind your tongue; we’re into the wilds now.”
Drefan and Kar turned to see that Alto had
set the brake on the wheel. The portcullis was raised high enough
for them to ride through. Kar nodded appreciatively. “We’ll have
you pulling wagons by yourself in no time.”
“Kar!”
Kar waved Tristam’s rebuke away. Alto mounted
Sebas and took his place in line at the rear, next to Karthor. They
rode through the gate and on to a wide stone bridge that spanned a
gorge. Alto looked over the edge as far as he dared and saw a river
below.
“Mind your balance,” Karthor suggested. “It’s
not a hundred feet but that’s not a dive many men could hope to
survive.”
Alto nodded and straightened on Sebas. He
felt lightheaded just from looking at the edge and beyond. He
didn’t want to think of what falling from the bridge would be like.
Staring straight ahead, he saw the Northern Divide rise
majestically ahead of them. It looked like he could touch the
clouds if he could climb the highest peaks. Of course, then the
river would be an even farther fall if he should slip. It wasn’t
until they crossed the thirty-foot span of the bridge that his
chest opened up to allow a full breath.
The terrain turned immediately into rugged
and rocky landscape. The road branched off, with a smaller and less
used path following the northern edge of the chasm to the west. The
main road continued into the mountains, heading up an incline that
soon turned into a valley between rising ridges that blocked the
morning sun.
Alto stared about as they rode, hearing the
echoing sound of their horses’ hooves. Other noises of nature
joined them, the tune of a songbird and the cry of squirrels that
scampered between the evergreens on the rocky hills. The trees grew
thinned as they climbed higher into the mountains. A small stone
skipped off the path on Alto’s right, startling him and Sebas.
The falling rock drew Alto’s attention to the
ground, rather than the mountains around and ahead of them. He
cocked his head and, without thinking, pulled Sebas to a halt. Alto
climbed down from the horse and knelt to get a closer look at the
disturbance in the ground.
“Alto!” Karthor hissed. “What is it?”
“I’m not sure,” Alto admitted.
“Tristam, hold a moment,” Karthor called up,
though his voice was pitched so it wouldn’t carry.
Tristam and the others stopped, each turning
to see what was amiss. The leader of the Blades rode back and kept
his shadow away from Alto before asking. “Forgot you’re a tracker;
what’ve you found?”
Alto let the part about being a tracker
slide. Sure, he could track a wounded animal through the woods but
his father had told him stories of real trackers. He had none of
their skill or patience. “Rocky ground,” Alto said with a glance
around them. “No real way to track much on this, but the ground’s
been scuffed up here and many rocks turned over. Maybe something
was dragged or fell down?”
“Or maybe someone,” Kar said. He stepped past
Alto and plucked out a tuft of fur wedged in the crack of a
rock.
“People don’t have fur,” Alto said.
“Oh really?” Kar turned to stare at the
rolled up wolf pelt stored on Sebas. Alto got the message and
clamped his mouth shut.
“Kelgryn then,” Tristam grunted.
“Again with the Kelgryn?” the wizard
muttered. He shook his head in disapproval. “What about mountain
men? Or normal men—hides are cheaper than clothing sewn from wool,
cotton, or silk.”
“Aye, but there’s a lot of things that keep
pointing to the Kelgryn.”
“A lot of convenient things,” Kar
corrected.
“Be silent!” Drefan hissed from the front of
the companions.
The others fell silent and stared at him. One
at a time, they looked around and then cocked their heads,
listening to the wind that brushed the mountains and the animals
and
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