The Claimed: A Clash of Copper and Gold

Chapter 20: Stories of the Past

Niako had gone back to eating, attacking the porridge with the same fastidious patience he used to parry during a sword fight, but he now turned his gaze to Epsa.

"And this Legion of the Three-Legged Lion — do they plan to kill my brother?"

"Would that bother you?"

"Only if I am not allowed to help."

She cocked her head and scratched an eyebrow, splaying wispy white brow hairs in all directions. "Our Legion will wait for the Three-Legged Lion to come show us the way. And the Three-Legged Lion will decide whether you are worthy."

Niako snorted a laugh. "Epsa, the Three-Legged Lion is a bedtime story for children."

"Then let's hope there is a child in you yet. Now come, both of you. I've procured another horse and more provisions for your journey."

* * *

The long shadows of  our two horses stretched out before us as we rode in silence toward the Paksha Sea. When the ground sloped up to cliffs and the smell of saltwater swept over the land, we turned to follow the shoreline toward the north. But as the sun rose on our right, I began to worry that Niako's posture had slumped, his body bouncing with each movement of the horse.

"We should stop before we wear out the horses," I said.

Niako shook his head. "Not yet. The Barzatuk River is just down this next slope, and on the Busk side of the river, we can take cover in the woods."

A few minutes later, the sound of the river carried on the breeze like chimes tinkling over a low drumroll. Then the endless grassy cliffs of the coastline gave way to a steep slope dappled with green bushes and shrubs. A narrow overgrown path weaved down the hill toward the mouth of the Barzatuk River. Shallow rivulets branched across islands of sediment like veins, all flowing into the neverending teal backdrop of the Paksha Sea. On the other side of the delta, a blanket of green tree tops rippled in the wind.

The horses picked their way down the hill painfully slowly, huffing snorts with each loosened rock and tossing their heads each time we guided them over a bush or around a washed-out portion of the path. By the time we reached the first rivulet at the bottom, the sun blazed bright overhead. 

Horse hooves splished through water and squelched in wet sand. As the hooves hit solid ground on the other side of the delta, a weight lifted from my chest. Even the briny breeze smelled sweeter.

"We did it, Niako. We escaped Rakim."

"Rakim soldiers can travel into Busk just as easily as we just did. Let's take cover."

We guided the horses into the trees just far enough to escape notice from anyone outside the woods before I swung off of the appaloosa mare. I jogged over to help Niako dismount, but he managed to slide off the bay gelding without assistance. He took several shaky steps before plopping down to sit on a rock. After digging the food and water out of the saddle bag, I lowered myself down to sit against a tree near him, handed Niako the jar of pickled meat, and reached for the bag of nuts.

As I untied the bag, I said, "So, tell me about the journey ahead. How exactly do we get to Trebalda's tribe?"

"Why? Are you planning to leave me behind?"

"Are you planning to be difficult?"

He turned his focus to the trunk of the tree ahead of him. "I've heard it takes almost two days along the Barzatuk River on horseback to reach the Tribe of Trebalda. You should be prepared for wildcats, ruffians, a few spots with difficult terrain, and an arduous trek up the mountainside at the end. But you don't really need a guide... especially not a guide who has never even been there."