Chapter 5: Part II – Chapter 4: On the Road

It was cloudy but dry, and not too hot. Nice travelling weather.

Freya was lying on my back, legs dangling to each side, and her little possessions rumbled from time to time in the quite empty saddle bag. The only thing in there from me was a knife that I had bought on a hunch before leaving, just after we had visited the general one last time. The other side of the saddle bag thus contained a big pack of letters, separated by a blanket from the four remaining cabbages, I had bought as a snack.

The breakfast did not last long, the camp was barely out of view when I took the first cabbage out of the bag and bit large chunks out of the raw cabbage. Never thought I could do that, but it was fresh and crunchy.

"I have never ridden so comfortably. Your fur is much softer than any saddle, your back is flat like a human, and you sway so little. You walk even so silent, I feel like riding a cloud."

I was embarrassed, not sure how to treat that compliments I had commanded my body to a quick walk, while the speed was more like my former self running. Despite taking incredible deep breaths, I could continue like this for hours, like walking, even with Freya and the bags. "Thanks" I mumbled while chewing the cabbage. Not that I had much fine control over my movements. Just luck, or rather carefully crafted by whoever. The walk was indeed silent, each step I touched first with my paw-digits before putting the paws flat on the ground, like a cat closing on its prey.

When the cabbage was finished, I asked Freya for language lessons. So far I could say Freya's name in her tongue, and that was it.

* * *

Two hours and hundreds of words later, we came to a creek. Again, I was amazed at how much I drank, even though I had not felt that thirsty moments before. Well, I am a big girl now. And the sun had come out. Since the water of the creek was crisp and clear, I drank even a little more: I shuddered at the thought of the water from the leather bags.

Then we followed the creek upwards and forest gave way to fields and a small village in the distance. In front of us was a wide ridge covered with dense forest that went from left to right. While it was not that high, the way started to climb and made me sweat, even panting with my tongue out like a dog. Then, I discovered a new use for my tail. Swaying it around gave good cooling.

Freya had fun with it as well.

Good, because the language lessons had to stop, I had not enough breath left.

I was grateful for the shadow of the woods because the way was still climbing in curves. Did I dance yesterday much longer, much wilder than that stupid walk uphill?

An eternity later, although probably just half an hour, the way levelled, going through a dark and cool fir wood. It was impossible to stray off the wagon way, not even deer paths were crossing into the dense wood. Slowly my breath settled for normal heaves again.

"Say, Where stop?" I was sure my pronunciation was horrible.

"Well done. Soon there xerg soof."

"Sorry no understand."

She sighed and used mindspeak. "There will be a rest house soon. Let us buy some food and get some news."

"Are we making good progress?" I had given up again on the language.

"Please try at least. But yes, you are much faster than a centaur. I thought we would stay here for the night. But it is just early afternoon. It is funny, the centaur can barely keep up with a horse for a short while. And you look like a cat. And cats just dash and then sleep. But you have more endurance than some horses."

"Freya, please, I have nothing to do with it. I would rather walk on two legs."

"You want to try it? Should I get down?"

"I can give it a try."

Freya dismounted. I got on my hind legs. It was very wobbly but I didn't fall over immediately. I made ten steps before landing with a thud on the front legs. "No," and shook my head. "Coming!"

Freya got on again.

"That was not bad. But, so, you know, I still don't understand it. Why did they send those poor centaurs when they had something like you? It does not add up."

"At least I did not have to fight."

"Yes, lucky for you. Also, you didn't have any training."

It was a statement. We had talked about this in the camp already, And yes, things do not add up. But ending in another world was also not expected from my side. And so far, appearing on a battlefield could have ended much worse. Two legs would have been nice. But then indeed, I would never be able to walk that far, and in no way even with carrying someone. And I pity the humans, I would have bleeding feet given the contemporary shoes I saw so far.

* * *

The wagonway followed roughly a contour line. The rest house was in a small side plateau, less than two hundred steps wide, with a meadow in front. The house was made of logs, and the roof was wood shingles. Altogether it reminded me more of a Canadian lumberjack hut than a rest house.

We sat in the sunlight at an outside table and shared a canteen of thin met. Some sheep and newborn lambs were on the meadow in a perch. Then came Freya plate, we parts of one of the lambs. Freya dug into her meat, and even though I had never been a vegetarian, it felt barbaric to me. I instead had a big bowl of some porridge. It was based on a strongly diluted soup with a little sheep milk and lots of local seeds. It was very good, the seeds added a heavy earthen touch to it. After I had finished three quarters, I had an idea. I got up on my hind legs and ripped two handfuls of needles from the next fir tree since they smelled mouthwatering after the seeds. And they had been the missing ingredient. Now it was full of young forest taste, really great. While I waited for the boiling of my second, I harvested again more fir needles.

Freya and the Innkeeper both looked amused at me spicing up my porridge with fir needles. I ignored them. Ignoring stare was unfortunately something that I will have to train even more.

"Hej lass, you are much more pleasant to the eye than those centaurs." I did realise that Freya put her hand on me. She even tinted her translation with his voice. "But the centaurs are better for business, half a pig, with cabbage and all the carrots I can find. You have diluted cabbage soup with pine seeds and needles." The laughter of the innkeeper sounded more like he was choking.

"Anyway, lass, you are eating fir needles with a spoon. So much more pleasant to the eye, and the nose. Gods, the centaurs were reeking."

I stopped, sniffing. But the strong smell of afore mentioned fir needles in my mouth was the only thing I could smell right now. I made some noise while chewing.

"Lass, what are you? Wait!"

The last Freya added. Then she broke contact and started a long explanation, probabky involving centaurs and clerics. Few words from the morning lessons that I recognized. Not enough to make any sense of it yet. And the grinding noise from properly chewing the needles added an additional challenge.

* * *

Later, on the road again, Freya told me that she had just stated the facts like I was found on the battlefield, and the clerics wanted to meet me.

I was somewhat disappointed, I had expected a more elaborate yarn. Like the 'swifter as' mythical declamation from her back in the camp.

Freya laughed, "You are so entertaining. You've spoilt me forever."

"What?"

"Traveling with you is like travel should be. Hoho, my brave errs," she stopped her mindspeak. "Dsfsdfs, yyd speak Kren."

Language lessons were a good distraction for me as well.

It was late afternoon when the forest retreated to the sides and the way descendent a little into a valley with meadows and fields. A little ahead was a village.

"The village's name is Liknow. We will sleep here."

I was proud to understand her without mindspeak. "Liknow" About fifteen large houses.

Looking at the fields, it must be early summer or late spring.

"Freya, please! sit! turn!"

"Please turn around, or sit forward," she corrected me and turned around. "Why?"

Instead of an answer, I started running, or galloping or whatever that four-legged fast gait was called. It may have been stupid, but after walking for hours in the forest, I felt like racing down the gentle slope towards the village. I had not tested my top speed, I told myself. And I started pushing until my eyes start watering from the wind. It must rival the top speed of my bicycle back then.

Freya must have had a rough ride but she was shouting something like "Yippee!". So no worries.

The two miles or so to the village were covered in no time. I stopped at the first houses, almost choking, really fighting for air. Magical made body or not, the amount of oxygen I could draw via my mouth and nose could not sustain that furious speed any longer.

Despite being out of breath, or rather wheezing noisily like choking on an asthma attack, the approaching villagers kept their distance. Children and women in the back, men with pitchforks, knives, and round wooden balls on long wooden sticks in front. They threw short glances at Freya, but mostly stared at her mount, me.

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After a few words from Freya, the people lowered their pitchforks and tools and smiled, especially as I let Freya lead me to a fountain in the central village. There, a tame friendly beast.

The fountain was a greenish-dark pipe protruding from a three-meter-high rock. The faucet spew water into a stone basin below, and then it flew further over the square, joining the creek outside the village.

I had to drink tiny sips first until my breathing settled to the normal rate and I could quench my thirst with bigger gulps. Freya had moved to the other side of the square in the shadow of the houses, talking to the village elders. The villager's younger half, all children and teens surrounded me at a cautious distance.

"My name is Kiara," I said and smiled.

One of the oldest came forward. "Welcome to Liknow. My name is Kulow, Son von Dreg. You regu dron fet?"

Unfortunately, I was at the end of my vocabulary. Hence, I went into the offensive. "Do you wanting ride I?"

My grammar and pronunciation were certainly wrong, but I could see his delight. If he smiled any stronger, his lips may have met at the ears. "Come"

As soon as he was within reach, I lifted him up. He weighed next to nothing. I threw him in the air before putting him on my back.

"Two and child"

Of course, all of them wanted to be next. Kulow, Son of Dreg chose two of them, which I also threw in the air before putting them behind Kulow.

"Ok"

I gestured to the children to give me some space. After two normal steps, I took off. Not as crazy as before, but for sure faster than any of them could have possibly ever gone on a farmer's horse.

Shortly they shouted something like "Faster!" But I kept my speed. Instead, I decided to jump over a log at the wayside.

I had severely underestimated the jumping capabilities of my body. We were sailing perhaps two meters above the log and landed more than ten meters away, where I stopped just before sliding into the creek. It took a few seconds to drive down the Adrenaline for all of us.

"Fun?", I panted, and then we slowly walked back, to the disappointment of my riders.

On return to the fountain square, I saw Freya washing naked under the fountain faucet, her clothes next to her. She called something to me and then continue her washing. I could not even ask her back, because some children had opened the buckle and three together carried the saddle bag to Freya. Nobody seems to think this out of the ordinary, although some of the younger men certainly looked longer in her direction than most.  A cold shower sounded nice. But no rest for me yet, there was a queue for a ride.

After next the roundtrip, Freya was drying herself in the sun, sitting still naked on a rock next to the fountain and chatting with an old woman. Lazy healer, I thought, I had carried her all the way and was even paying her.

On return from the seventh round trip, I had some routine. The breathing got better, deeper, and the jumps went even longer and the landing softer and more controlled, and most importantly, closer to where I wanted them to end. But I was spent.

Still, I let them convince me to do a final act as a merry-go-round on the fountain square with the little ones. While not exhausting, it was more tiresome than I thought because they hold so tight to my fur. When I winced, and one of the older children walking next to me saw this, he promptly tore the hair of the offender. "Never grab fur!" he shouted at the shocked infant.

I was surprised by his harsh reaction. I could stand their grabbing. Then I thought: if they did this to a dog or horse, then they can get bitten or kicked. It is a harsh world here.

The warm late afternoon sun on the fountain square did little to cool me down. I was sweaty all over, and even the fur of my lower body clung to the skin. So I did an upper body shower under to faucet of the fountain. After three minutes in the fresh clear water, I was cooled down a little and felt so much cleaner. Oh, I was wrong. The beauty treatment was just to start.

I was denied my shirt, instead, they started cleaning it on a washboard.

Others came with several wooden combs, two rough brushes, and even a rusty steel brush, all organized while I had done the final rounds with the infants. The steel brush looked most dangerous, with its five-centimetre long spikes: more like toiletry for Fakirs. (It was a typical horse grooming tool, I learned later.) I did not understand much, but they wanted to clean me up as they would care for a horse. I looked at Freya, but she was still gone. So, I just smiled at them and waited.

First, they wiped my sweat away with dry straw. When my fur was dry enough, the hour came for the combs and the steel brush. The steel brush was handled by Kulow, and it was not as bad as I had feared. He was careful and gentle and removed surprising amounts of loose fur. Did I get my summer pelt? Other used the wooden combs. Younger children used their hands to remove burdocks and other seeds. I had to lift my paws one by one, and they looked for any sees or needles between the digits.

When I could lower all paws again, I started to enjoy standing in the afternoon sun and being pampered, even if only pampered like a horse. Suddenly my lower body started to rumble, worrying the children (and me) until I realized that I was purring like a cat. I laughed, and the children continued. I had no control over the purring, and it was not arousal, just relaxing.

Some children had put my shirt on a rake, and were running around, hoisting the shirt on the rake like a sail through the air, to dry it faster.

My fur was more tangled than I had thought, but the children knew their tasks. And I had been overdue for fur care: A huge mountain of old fur was lying on a blanket.

"What old hair doing?"

One girl looked up "Kiss"

I must have looked confused.

She laughed, took some old fur in her hand, and then put the hands next to her head. She closed her eyes. "Kiss"

Fur filling for a pillow! Now, I remembered once an ad for a horse-hair mattress. Now the world has Kiara-filled pillows as well. "You kiss?"

She smiled. "Yes, my gund."

And so my fur had become shiny and fluffy as heaven. With the light breeze it was moving, the wind even tickled a little. And it was also cooler, just nice.

Now one girl jumped on my back and went through my head hair with the smallest comb and removed seeds from it as well. I had not realised that I had a short mane down until I felt the tug of her brush at the start of my shoulder blades. I would really like a mirror!

Others made tiny braids out of the long trailing furs at the backside of my flanks. It looked very elegant. I cursed my limited vocabulary for being unable to better praise their work.

* * *

When all was done, they played again rock, wood, well (which I rather knew as rock paper scissors). If I understood correctly, it was for the honour of having me for dinner.

Somehow the game must have been rigged because we ended up at the house of the village elders, who sat with Freya on a bench in the backyard, looking at the darkening evening sky. When my guide made the complicated goodbye gestures and quickly withdrew, an understanding was dawning. They had just competed for the right to lead me here.

"Hrmpf"

Freya jumped up, and run to me. She stroked my back fur. "Even softer than before. Honestly, you look like you come straight from the coat of arms of a king."

I turned red, with no idea how to react to this compliment. "This is all the children's work."

"I saw the first rides. You have made their day!"

"But you look also beautiful."

She beamed at me. But it was true. Her grey hair had a reddish tint now. It was also braided and hung down halfway through her back. She had a white shirt, with a dark thick skirt reaching just over the knees. Over her shirt she had a leather strip, not for support but rather to accentuate her petite breasts and her feminine figure; especially compared to the rather robust-built women of the village, some of who had more biceps than me. She visibly enjoyed being checked out.

"Let's join the others."

I barely fit the door frame.

A small fire was burning in the large fireplace, roasting two chickens. However, Freya had announced my vegetarian preferences, and from the two big pots boiling in front, the left one was only for me. It contained the first carrots, harvested this week. To their dismay, I asked them to put in the greens as well, which smelled really good. You may be surprised, but I ate fried carrot greens even back in my world. The signature dish of my neighbours. The bitter aftertaste did not exist in this world, or at least for my new body when I nibbled them. Instead, the leaves were sour-sweet, like Chinese. Still, I let them boil with the carrots and the other vegetables in the pot.

Finally, dinner was declared ready, and after a short hassle, I sat resting my front on a low melk stool at one end of the table, and Freya sat on a regular chair at the other. Then there was a short thank for the gods (probably, I really needed to ask Freya about it) before we could eat. Of course no cutlery, even the soup was eaten by hand. For this, they drank the liquid and then just ate the solids.

My bowl was large and kept hot for a long time. Thus, I had to eat slowly, despite my hunger. But the soup was delicious, and the carrots later were really like candy. No wonder, centaurs here yearned for carrots.

I had three helpings, but the big pot was too large even for me. I went outside, but instead of trying to fit into the outhouse I jumped over the hedge and relieved myself a little further off in the meadow. The moon looked like back home, at least how a city dweller like me remembered it. I could not tell anything about the stars. I saw no familiar constellations, there were just too many stars for that. Even in the mountains in winter, once during a ski holiday, I could not remember seeing so many stars.

I yawned that I feared I would not able to close my mouth ever again. One lazy jump back into the garden, and then back into the single room. Freya and the elder were having drinks, but I was too tired. They had laid a blanket for me on the ground on the far side of the room, away from the fire. The blanket reached from my outstretched front paws to just below the lower ribcage. But my hip was anyway supported by the hind paws, which I folded under me. This time, I also put the tail below me, so in the front were the two paws and the now very fluffy tail between them. I cuddled myself between my front paws. Whoever designed this body had probably not planned for this, but did a good job nevertheless.

I thanked the children again for their great care, everything was so soft, and smelled only faintly like cinnamon. My last thought was that one girl was probably also cuddling her new cinnamon-scented pillow, and then I was deep asleep.

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