Ice-Bound Promise [Wattys 2023 Shortlister]

17

17

When the barge master informed them that they would soon reach a jumping off point, Únik felt a sizeable twinge of disappointment. Her stomach had settled down, after a while, and she found she quite enjoyed the gentle roll of the barge and the staid progress up the river. If she had known of this years ago, her life may have taken an entire different road.

With a heavy heart, she began preparing to leave the barges and the peaceful way of life that they offered. Barsa had stayed steadfast by her side since she had stamped her authority and Únik had seen the looks of envy and, at some level, loss that Hatyara would throw their way every so often.

She found Shihiri at the other end of the barge, bow string taut as the Fae ran a wedge of wax against it. The Fae almost treated it as a meditation, running the wax up one side of the string, in a slow sweep, and then down the other side. Every so often, Shihiri would run a finger down the string, searching for any areas the wax had missed.

"Any idea what we can expect when we return to dry land?" Blowing a speck of excess wax from the string, Shihiri gave Únik a glance as she approached. "This is not an area I've travelled in that much."

"According to Hrorvid, the barge master, we could run into bandits. When we reach the snows again, there are Snow Wyrms that we should avoid." Únik saw Shihiri's eyes widen a slight and the Fae gave a short whistle. "I know. I've never seen one, but I've heard tales."

"Tales? I met a man that got attacked by a Snow Wyrm, once." Shihiri stopped maintaining her bow string and held Únik with an intense gaze. "He had only the one leg, one arm and half his chest missing. How he yet lived, I don't know. Patrons' favour, mayhap, but it didn't seem like a mercy to me."

Únik remembered back to her days in training with Gislarik. Upon mention of Snow Wyrms, the old hunter had descended into melancholy as he warned her to steer clear. When pressed, the old man had muttered something about losing good friends and Únik remembered thinking she never thought the man had ever had friends. With the sad look in his eyes, she didn't press any further, allowing the man to wallow in his dark memories.

"Then we'll have to avoid them, as Hrorvid says." She watched as Shihiri returned her string wax back to the pouch on her belt. "I'm sorry for snapping at you. Before. I meant the sentiment, but the way I said it was wrong."

"Don't worry about it." Looking up, Shihiri saw the concern on Únik's face. She reached over, placing a hand on Únik's arm, and smiled. "Honestly. You were right. I should keep my thoughts about her to myself."

Shihiri began to pull out her arrows from the quiver. This was part of her routine. Even though she had only checked them the day before, Shihiri went over her weaponry once again. It fascinated Únik and she sat close as Shihiri began running fingers over fletchings, holding up an arrow to check how straight it ran.

"What is it about Hatyara that you don't like? I know she's arrogant and dismissive, but this seems deeper. You really seem to hate her." With an absent mind, she reached out to Barsa, ruffling the fur on his neck.

"You see this dog?" Using the point of the arrow to indicate Barsa, Shihiri appeared stern-faced to the hound. Then her face broke into a smile as she reached over to pat his side, causing Barsa's tail to wag in furious sweeps. "I didn't know what kind of dog he was, at first. Faithful? Aggressive? Useless? Would he take to a Fae? Would he be over-protective of you?"

"I know. It took you a while to get used to him." She lifted Barsa's muzzle and rubbed her nose against his, avoiding the tongue flying out to soak her face. "But, he's a good dog. Yes, he is! And I've started spoiling him."