Fury in the Wind chp 9 - Friend or Foe

Nightfall came quickly for Carris and Kenway. They moved at such a fast pace that Carris could barely stay in her saddle. She had ridden some in her life, but Kenway had not been theatrical when speaking of how desperate he was to get back to Thessapon, and they had scarcely taken time to water their horses. However, even he had to admit that riding in the dark on a snowy mountain in the winter would put both them and their rides in danger, and so they had found a small clearing fifty paces from a frozen stream and set up camp there.

Because of their hasty departure they had taken almost no supplies, and so they spent the first hour building a pair of lean-tos up against the dark forest, out of the wind. Carris was grateful that Kenway apparently had no interest in sharing a shelter with her. They worked in silence until it was completed, and then, limbs aching and stomachs growling, built up a large fire in front of the two shelters. The sun was now passing over the horizon, and darkness enveloped them.

Kenway said nothing as he warmed his frail hands above the fire. Carris huddled on a narrow log to keep off the snow. This was her second night out in the cold, and she was ready to never do it again.

The cold was dangerous, and on top of that, there was a chill that ran down her spine at the hasty actions she had taken earlier in the day. She had left Gwyn and had destroyed things with her mother and Malcolm. It was all she could think about the entire ride: Gwyn’s fallen face when she learned that Carris had left. What if Malcolm had realized how rash and stupid he had been, and wanted to make things right, only for it to be too late?

“Tell me about your journey?” she asked quietly. Anything to get her mind off the unending wheel of regret that had been turning all day.

Kenway sighed. It seemed he was not all that enthralled with having a riding companion many years his junior. But perhaps even he needed to get his thoughts off of some dark cloud.

“It was a simple expedition,” he began. He sank down in a squat, his thin face a swath of flesh and shadows across the fire. His voice was low and gravelly. Carris squirmed in her spot. “My colleague, my friend, Reginald and I, were searching for something in the Flatheads. You know of this place?”

Carris nodded. “Everyone in the Agressi’s knows about the Flatheads. Specifically, how we are never to go that far up the mountain.”

“Wise words from your elders,” Kenway said bitterly. His lips quivered. “There were stories about a monument of some sort near the highest region. Trappers were unsure what it was, but Reginald and I thought it could be the discovery of a lifetime, a look into the history of Velhurland before it was colonized.”

“I thought it was an empty island?”

“As did I. But a land so lush and fertile is an odd choice to be left abandoned for thousands of years, don’t you think?”

Carris had not thought of it before, but it did make sense. While Sadoria was a colder, harsher climate than Astoria, both countries on the Velhurland island were very rich in soil and natural resources. Wildlife was abundant, and the sea surrounding teemed with life. And there were lands to the west, Carris knew, places full of sand and harsh sunlight. If those had been inhabited and lived in, why had Velhurland been empty for so long?

Kenway was still talking, she realized. “We went, just the two of us. If there was nothing to find it was an inexpensive trip. But, if we did find something, Reggie and I alone would be the sole finders. It could be a treasure trove of history.”

Carris leaned forward. “And did you find anything?”

“That we did.”

“What was it?”

Kenway ran a thin finger in circles on his lips, saying nothing at first. The wind whistled in the trees. “I don’t know.”

Carris cocked her head to the side. “What do you mean? Did you see something?”

“Aye. It was some sort of shrine, covered in a language I do not know. Reginald and I intended to study it and peruse the surrounding area.”

“But?” Carris was fully invested. The idea of a secret shrine just a few days from her home had her teetering on the edge of her seat.

“We never got the chance. An avalanche, or something like it, swept us away.” Kenway’s voice trailed off and his gaze wandered away.

“What do you mean, something like it?”

“I don’t know!” Kenway snapped. His face turned to meet hers, glowing in the firelight like some angry spirit.

Carris revolted at the sudden outburst, tumbling off her log with a thump.

Kenway sighed heavily, pinching the crest of his nose. “I’m sorry.” He said nothing for a moment. Carris stood, about to head for her shelter, more than a little disconcerted at his flared temper.

“Reginald did not make it. I don’t know how I did.” Kenway’s head dropped.

Carris brushed snow from the seat of her pants, unsure if this would be a good time to speak. She wasn’t sure how to comfort him. Perhaps rationality would be a good route for a scholar.

“The Flatheads are unforgiving. We were always told we would never be found if we dared to scale them. The snow is often treacherous and deceiving.”

Kenway shook his head. “I know child, I know. But this was different. There was, some thing, some presence, there with us.”

Carris’s brows creased. “A presence? Like another person? Or an animal?”

“It seemed to be a bit of both,” Kenway said, finally looking up. There was a different look in his eyes now though, anger, not at her, but at whatever he thought he had seen. “And I will find out who or what it was, and what those sigils mean, if it kills me as well.”

Carris wasn’t sure what to say. She didn’t like being around angry elders. She wanted to help, but she didn’t feel like she had the knowledge to do so. But she also had a horrible knack for continuing to talk past the natural conclusions of conversation.

“What sigils?”

Kenway rubbed his hands together, looking around at his feet. He grabbed a half-burnt stick from the fire and actually came around to Carris’s side. He leaned down on one knee and began to scribble lines in the snow, leaving a black outline from the charred end of the stick.

“Looks like gibberish to me,” she said.

Kenway ignored her. “It’s some sort of rune or ancient language that I’m unfamiliar with. That means that it does not come from Velhurland, or any of the countries back on the mainland. I would know.”

“So, it comes from the west?” Carris guessed, standing on her tiptoes to look over Kenway’s hunched body as he continued to scribble lines and arrows.

“Or the far east or south. Or, perhaps right here in Astoria. We could be talking about an unknown civilization, a people that migrated, or was wiped out by famine or pestilence or some other force of nature!”

He was animated now, talking with his hands as much as his voice. “Whatever it is, it is my duty to find it out.”

“Your duty?” That seemed like a strong word to Carris.

“It is what I’ve devoted my life to. This war has set back history and discovery decades if not centuries. And I will be chained before I stop seeking out the mysteries of this world. And there are many still to find.” He breathed in the cold air and stood tall once more, towering over Carris. “And for Reggie. He was my best friend, and I failed him.”

His voice faded away and he sank to the log, his strength leaving his legs.

Carris felt her heart beating faster now. She felt a wave of guilt wash over her like an avalanche. This man was going to spend perhaps the rest of his life in duty to his departed friend, and Carris had left both of hers at the first real opportunity.

“I’m not sure I have ever had something to be devoted to,” she said, her voice shaky. The words were just coming out to this perfect stranger. Maybe that made it easier. There were no expectations, no history or baggage to bring along.

“What do you care for most in this world?” Kenway asked.

Carris bit her lip. “My friends. Gwyn. Malcolm. Other than that, I am not sure. I have no real dreams within the realm of sanity to pursue. I have never known what I want. I’ve been too busy. Maybe, one day, I will know what my duty is, and what I will devote myself to, but not this day.”

“Then when?” Kenway asked. There was no malice or sarcasm in his voice, but Carris still felt as if it was a personal attack.

“I have just said: someday.”

“There will always be someday. But the funny thing is that one day, someday will have never come, and you will wish anything that you had one more day.”

Carris stood there, arms crossed. Her heart always fluttered when she daydreamed of leaving, of trying her hand at something out in the big world, but actually doing it had her heart and feet frozen in place.

“I don’t know what it is that I want to do. I have no cause like you.”

“But you do have your friends. I have had nightmares since that day on the Flatheads, where I see Reginald still alive, watching as I abandoned him.” Tears welled in his eyes, and he made no effort to hide them in front of Carris. “Do not abandon yours. It will not be worth the life you live alone. That is my fate. Don’t let it be yours.”

Carris sank onto the log, a strange comfort emanating from Kenway. He was so honest and forthcoming, and there was no deceit or conniving in it. He was not manipulating her emotions, only to turn her vulnerability on her a moment later, like her mother did. She wanted to pour her heart out to him, to speak of how guilty she was already feeling, of how alone she felt every waking day when she was not by Gwyn and Malcolm’s side. But even as her heart twisted itself inside, she stubbornly refused to say anything.

“What would you do?” she asked. She was happy to turn the conversation back his way.

“It is not for me to decide your fate. I have not lived your life, and I cannot speak to your friends or your family. But I do know that in all my life, and all its wondrous and inspiring moments, I could recreate those by myself. But the moments where I have been most vulnerable, where a kindred spirit has been by my side, warming my soul and feeding my spirit, have been far and few between. Those are not things you can buy from a vendor’s stand, or purchase with enough coins. When you have someone in your life who will stick by you no matter what, you must grip them like the rigging on a ship in a maelstrom.”

“And what if they cut you lose?”

Kenway sat in thought for a moment. “Was it with cause?”

Carris tried to steady her breathing, thinking of her argument with Malcolm. “I am not sure. I mean, what if you’re not sure? What would you do if you may have cast the first rock at them?”

“In life, when confusion abounds, it is rarely dealt with unless the two parties can agree to a truce. Else, there is strife and conflict.”

“And if the other party cannot come to an agreement.”

“That is a rather glum outlook to begin negotiations with, don’t you think?” Kenway asked.

Carris hesitated. “In my life, that has simply been the truth.”

“Those who seek conflict out over resolution, may never have been your friends. It is our responsibility to be wise and discern whether that is true or false.”

It was all a lot for Carris to consider. In the morning, leaving had seemed like such a simple solution. She could leave all her problems, her pains and her conflicts in the past and quite literally ride away from them. Now it felt like they may follow her down the mountain paths and out among the plains wherever she ended up. But they had hurt her. Was Malcolm second-guessing his own behavior as well? He always seemed so confident in how he spoke and acted. Surely his mind was made up on the matter.

But then there was Gwyn. She had fallen casualty by attrition. Was that fair? She was strong, Carris reasoned. She had siblings and a mother and father who loved her. That was more than Carris had ever had. Surely, she would survive. But Carris didn’t want her friends to just survive. That was a bleak thought. Gwyn deserved happiness, security, and a friend as loyal as she had always been.

Kenway slapped his knee, startling her back to the present.

“There is much to think about in life. But we must be careful not to think too much and do too little.” He stood. “I have always found that I can see more clearly after a restful night of sleep. I will stoke the fire, and in the morning, hopefully we will both have gleaned from this opening of hearts.”

For the first time, he smiled. Carris smiled back. She had a lot on her mind, but his smile generated warmth, and she found herself feeling better than she had for several nights. She would still have to decide what she aimed to do, but this man had shed light and tranquil wisdom, something she had rarely gotten to experience in her life at Potter’s Creek.