Metal and Flesh (The Rohvim, Book 1)

17.4 Bonds

Grudgingly, their hearts still held captive by the beauty of the day and of the golden hilltop surrounded by brilliantly colored mountains and forests, the company packed up their camp and resumed their journey. "We are but two days journey from the southernmost towns of the kingdom of Volda." Announced Diana, as they passed over the saddle between two peaks. They ascended higher and higher, and the air grew cooler. Deer and elk from the higher elevations now descended from their summer homes to find more fruitful grazing grounds. They climbed a ridge, a shoulder of the large peak to the west. Several ridges descended from the peak as fingers from a bulbous hand.

   Out of the corner of his eye, Aeden caught sight of a wild dog, on the prowl. He looked farther along its path, and saw its prey-a small herd of deer, among which wandered several foals. As the company marched northward up the ridge, the deer scattered and pranced away to the west. Aeden watched as the dog made its move-it darted at one of the lagging foals, grabbing its hind leg in its jaw. The foal stumbled, kicking and flailing. The dog released its leg and lunged for its throat. Other wild dogs emerged from the undergrowth and joined in the kill. The foal twitched and brayed, and fell silent, the blood of life flowing from its neck and leg, mixing with the frothy saliva of the barking dogs. The other deer had now pranced far away, escaping the pack. 

   The evening sunlight now slanted low through the trees, caught here and there in the dust and pollen and appearing as golden shafts out of the sky. As the sun passed behind the massive mountain to their left, they found a place to make camp near the top of the ridge looking out over the valley they would soon cross over on their journey to the north. The elder members of the group sat and rested on fallen logs or large rocks while the younger healers dropped their belongings and began the task of finding more wood and devising a setup of branches and stones by which they could cook a hot evening meal, for Gregory and Betha had decided they would eat well that night.

   Aeden and Rupert, now fast friends, wandered off in search of firewood. The two boys walked a distance into the woods, stooping here and there to retrieve fallen dead branches.

   Aeden asked his friend, "So Rupert. Any women in your life?"

   Rupert bent to pick up another large stick. "Just my mom."

   Aeden gave a sharp laugh. "Thanks for the perfect setup! But that one would be too easy ..." He chuckled, "no, I mean, girls. See any you like?"

   Rupert paused, "Well, there's not much variety out here. You seem pretty fixed on Betha. Darla acts practically as Frederick's blanket. Ellen and Diana ... hmm, interesting, but not my type ..." Aeden shuddered. He continued, "Haven't really given it much thought ..."

   "Come on, you're telling me there's no one back in Ramath? I saw hundreds of good looking girls when I was there."

   Rupert looked a little befuddled. Aeden continued, "Not one got you a little excited? I would go to the market district every day when I was there and while browsing the stores I'd also browse the ... err ... selection. The women of Ramath are not as comely as they say in Elbeth ..."

   Rupert shrugged as he retrieved another large stick. "I guess there were a few that looked ok." He smiled, then snorted. "Ok, there was one that looked pretty. But she was a nobleman's daughter and so I never really had a chance with her ..." Rupert said wistfully, "But her shoulders were ... well I'd never seen shoulders like that!"

   Aeden stared in amazement at the gangly boy. "Her shoulders? You found a hot girl and the most you could say about her was her shoulders? Are you ok?"

   Rupert snorted again. "I like shoulders. Good shoulders carry good heads."

   Aeden remarked, "Man, if you were Priam, I'd punch you in the stomach and wrestle you to the ground for only admitting to like a girl's shoulders." He shook his head and chuckled again as he picked up another dead stick.

   Rupert continued, "Speaking of Priam, Betha and I were talking during the march today, and we think it would be good for you if we had a little memorial for him tonight. I mean, he might not be dead, but he's gone and definitely not safe if he is alive ... so ... would that be ok?" Aeden fell silent. He picked up a few more sticks. Rupert went on, "We don't have to. Betha just thought you'd like that. She loves music and says she can't wait to hear you sing again ..."

   Aeden glanced up at him. "Really? She said that? I didn't know she liked music. Ok, I guess we could do that."

   "Do you fancy her?"

   "Fancy her?"

   "You know, Betha."

   "Oh. I don't know. She's nice, I guess."

   "That's it?"

   "Ok, she's more than nice. I don't know. Yeah, I like her. But ..."

   "But what?"

   "It's just that, well, my whole life I've always gotten what I wanted. No one ever said no to me. Except for my father, and he could be pretty brutal about it sometimes. But were I ever to say to a girl that I ... wanted her, she'd be mine at the drop of a hat. Something tells me Betha is not like that."

   Rupert grinned. "What gave you that idea?"

   "I guess that I'm just afraid that if I told her I liked her, she'd say she didn't like me back. Or that she'd laugh."

   "Or maybe that she would like you back and you would have to stop objectifying her by her looks and swordsmanship skills and start loving her for who she is inside?"

   Aeden stared at his small friend, mouth open.

   "Sorry, did I say something wrong?"

   "No, Rupert, uh ... no, you're good. Maybe you're right, I guess I'd never even thought of that." They continued on in silence, stopping occasionally to retrieve a fallen branch. "What are you afraid of?"

   "Death."

   Aeden chuckled, "Well, aren't we all. Though I suppose you may have chosen the wrong adventure."

   "Oh, not just death itself. I mean, I don't believe in an afterlife. I don't believe in the Creator. When I die, I will stop thinking, and so I won't even know that I've stopped thinking, so what's there to be scared of? But I'm more scared of being scared of death. You know? Like when I'm in the moment of death, and I lose it? That I chicken out? I want to be able to face death, well, in the face, and not freak out about it. Just get it done and over with."

   Aeden thought on this a moment. "Yes, I was right."

   "What?"

   "You are a strange one."

   "Come here." Rupert had set down his bundle of branches and beckoned to Aeden. He likewise set his down and approached his friend.

   "What is it?"

   "Something we do in the society. Not often, its kind of a ... I don't know, a ritual or something, but ..." Rupert flustered, but then took the last step to Aeden and placed one finger on his forehead. He held it there for a few moments, and Aeden could hear him in his head. Not a voice, just a presence. And he felt strengthened. He hadn't realized it, but he was quite apprehensive about the mission, about surviving it and returning to his mother, about not forcing her to live through yet another one of her children's deaths. He realized Rupert was giving him a great gift, and simultaneously sealing their friendship with an act of compassion. Friendship. Priam was his friend, but he was gone. He had never had any others, and now this was different. Better. He never realized how lonely he had been until the absence of a true friend was suddenly filled with a truer friend. Rupert hastily pulled his finger away and gathered his branches. "Sorry, I just thought ... you needed it." He walked away, and Aeden looked after him.

   "Thanks, Rupert."

   Rupert called without looking back. "We're late. We should get back."