Chapter 26: 26. Falduin and Lera

Falduin ate.

He sat on one of the larger rocks strewn across the cave floor, munching the last of the roasted boar’s leg.  He watched Lera, as she brushed her mount.  

Given the change of plans, they had chosen to offer the horses  some relief by removing their harnessing and feeding them. Falduin had already taken care of his horse. He didn’t feel it needed brushing.  He didn’t understand why Lera bothered with hers.

“Why do you think the Baron tried to stop Rido?” Lera asked.

“Who said he did?” Falduin said.

“I overheard Heric mention it.”

“I don’t know.”

“I wish I had asked him.”

“They’ll be back soon.”

Lera finished, and carefully placed the brush away with the other horse gear. She moved over to check where their cloaks had been placed to dry.  With no fire they were still damp from the previous few days rainfall.

“I hope you left me some,” she said as she sat down beside Falduin.

He offered her a bite.  She took a small mouthful, then made a face. “This tastes...off.  Are you sure it’s still good?”

Falduin shrugged, taking a large bite, “I hadn’t noticed.”

“Where’s Orwic?”

“Gánk.”

“What gánk?”

“Outside.”

“In this rain?”

“He can hardly go in here.  Maybe he found a way down to the  river.”

“Maybe he fell into it,” Lera said standing up, “We should go looking for him.”

“Why?”

“Because he might be hurt.”

Falduin shrugged, “I’d rather hear how you broke the reverberation.”

“Let me get some cheese,” she said rooting around in one of the food bags.  “Hopefully, it hasn’t gone off.”

“I keep telling you, this tastes fine.” Falduin said taking another bite.  “Did you use a breaching element, or an infiltration technique?”

“What?”

“Did you break through it or did you make it believe you were part of it?”

“Neither.”

“Then what did you use?”

“I’d rather not say.”

“Why?”

“Would you like some cheese?”

“Tell me, please.”

Lera sighed. “I merely offered you solace and forgiveness.  It’s a chant we use when there is little hope.”

“You gave me Last Honours?” he said standing up, livid.  How could she do that to him?  The defilement.  He wasn’t even religious.

“I was desperate!” she pleaded, as if reading his mind.

Falduin swallowed before he spoke.  “But it worked?”  he said.

“It appeared to.  You’re here.”

“Can you teach it to me?”

 

Lera sniggered.

She hid her mirth behind her hand, but she didn’t really need to.  Falduin concentrated intensely upon the moves, blissfully unaware.

“Jump to the left,” he said, as he performed the move. “ Then a step to the right,” He placed his hands on his hips.

“Keep your knees in tight,” she reminded him.

She knew she was being cruel, but he was such fun to tease.  Plus she felt he had overstepped the bounds of their friendship, by asking for her to teach him one of her most sacred customs.  This wasn’t some popular troubadoureal song.  The chants were holy tradition handed down to them from Elder Days. Just teaching him the words and assonance would be betraying her forebears.  She needed him to understand their significance, and history as well. If that involved so mockery and fun, then so be it.

He turned to her suddenly.  She lowered her head, lest he become wise to her jape.  

“Are you certain this next bit is right?” he asked.

“Oh, most definitely,” she replied, presenting a straight-face.

“What about the words.  The chant itself?”

“You must get the dance correct before they’ll have any meaning.”

“What if it’s the moves that are the key?” he said almost to himself.

“It could be,” Lera agreed.

“You did this in the forest?”

“You can ask Ifonsa.  She was there.”

“Very well,” Falduin said returning to his original position. “Let me try this again.”

“We should try the beads.”

“Beads?  I’ve never seen you wear beads.”

“It’s only for special occasions,” she said, then smiled at him, “It can’t hurt.”

Lera raced over to where their packs had been placed.  The area was a mess, with the gear from all six of them scattered across the floor in a jumble. After a long ride, they had been eager to feed and prepare for the raid.  There hadn’t been time to properly organise their kit, as Heric put it.

However before she reached the area, Lera stopped short. She gazed about, as though seeking for something.

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“What’s wrong?” Falduin asked her.

“Where’s my axe?”

 

“What are we going to do about the horses?” Lera asked.

They both stared out of the cave at the pouring rain.  It had gotten heavier.

“Why do anything?” Falduin answered. “They’re secure here.”

“What if something spooks them, or someone comes?”

“In this weather?”

“We should get them ready, in case we have to leave in a hurry.”

“That’ll take too long.  He’ll get away.”

“How long is it since you last saw him?”

“I don’t know. Half-an-hour?”

“Then we need to prepare.”

The horses weren’t happy to be readied again.  They had spent all day carrying their riders and wanted to rest and sleep.  Rianio in particular was furious, and wouldn’t allow Falduin to even place the saddle upon his back.  It took both of them, Lera to speak calmly to the warhorse, and Falduin to slip the gear onto him.  Even then, it still took both to tighten the saddle strap.  Rianio was a big, strong horse with a wide girth.

They secured the horses, so that they couldn’t casually wander away.  Then they packed up all the gear so that it could be quickly attached if they needed to leave in a hurry. They hadn’t bothered to sort through it, working out which gear belonged to whom.  They just stuffed it where it fit.  They could organise it later.

Lera paused to look at the end result.  It wasn't very good, or especially secure, but  It was the best they could manage in such a short time with just the two of them.

“Where do you think he’s gone?” Lera asked Falduin.

“He’s probably fallen into the stream,” he answered, as he pulled on his hood.

“Why take my axe?”

“Maybe he needed some help taking a sqi-“

“There’s no need to be uncouth!” she snapped.  “You’re better than that.”

“I’m really not.”

“Yes you are.  You just don’t know it yet.  Which way?”

Falduin pointed to the left.

“Why left?”

“That’s where he is?”

“How do you know?”

“I put a tracker on him when I placed the warding.  Ganthe suggested it.”

“And you complied?”

“I have come to trust his instincts.”

“Do you have a tracker on me as well?”

“Of course not,” he told her, “If ever I wish to seek you out, all I need do is follow my heart.”

Lera giggled. “Careful.  I just might test you on that.”

 

They were both soaked through within the first few moments.  Their cloaks and hoods did little to protect them, except to keep them warm.  That would change.  The rain was hard and cold, almost like ice.

Unlike Heric, Ifonsa and Ganthe, they didn’t creep.  As far as they were concerned it had been cleared of any of the enemy.  Instead they strolled, at least as well as they could at night in the rain.  The quarter moon had risen by then, the diffuse glow through the heavy clouds offering them the faintest illumination.   But it was better than nothing.

“Something I wished to ask you,” Lera said as they climbed up the precipitous steps that had been cut into the sharp rise. “How long does it take for you to create a new spell?”

“A very long time,” Falduin answered. “According to the Masters I’m not supposed to even attempt it. I’m too inexperienced.”

“But you still have.” It was a statement of fact, not a question.

“Of course. I had to do it in secret, in parts.  I never got to fully test it until we were ambushed.”

“Is that why your blinded us?” Lera teased.

“So it would seem.”

“And the Reverberation?”

“I failed to withdraw cleanly.  The spell reflected back.  What about you?  How long does it take to create a new chant?”

“It doesn’t.  We never do.”

“Then how did the chants come about?”

“According to doctrine, they were gifted to Nëmha by Úlæ during the Demon Wars.”

“But you don’t believe that?”

“I don’t not believe it.”

“That sounds like a yes.”

“No.  It’s just not a no.  Our doctrine is old.  Very old, well before the Battle of the Strand and the Breaking of the World.  It may have since become muddled.”

“Some of our oldest spells are from that time. I think certain Masters are too.”

As they climbed higher, they began to hear the waterfall  over the  rain. They didn’t see it, however, until they reached the second trail leading into the fissure.

“Which way?”Lera asked.

Falduin pointed toward the waterfall.

Lera nodded and they both crept towards the ledge.  If they hadn’t been drenched already, the spray churning from the waterfall would have soaked them utterly.  They needed to be a careful, the ledge was narrow and slippery.

“Orwic isn’t taking a sqit, is he?” Lera asked as she peered into the fissure.  She couldn’t see a thing. It was pitch black inside.

“No,” Falduin said. “When we catch up to him he might though.”

Side-by-side, the two of them crept into the darkness.

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