The Rokkoh Adventures

Rokkoh and the Old Woman, Chapter 10

We ride most of the morning and into the afternoon. The leaves around us rustle in the wind, back to their natural greens. Few fellow travelers pass us by, but those who do offer a polite greeting and a friendly smile. A warm welcome compared to our latest run-in with strangers to say the least. As the sun reaches its peak in the sky, we guide our horses off the road and into a space between the trees. We dismount and relax, laying out a blanket and setting up a picnic. A small lake sits nearby, and we each take turns to rid ourselves of dirt and dried blood. Once we are clean, Nana delves into her bag and dishes out some food for us all. Mainly berries, nuts, and some bread, we enjoy our lunch in peace. Woodland critters watch as they scurry about. Birds gather in the branches, colorful gorgeous things of varying size. Each has its own part in the song they perform for us, each with its harmonious voice that blends into the chorus.

At first, Nana hums along with the tune, following the melody with ease. It isn't long until her voice rings out, a clear and bright sound that seems to lead the others. I am unsure if the words that escape her are real or some foreign tongue I have never encountered, but regardless it is beautiful. It fits in with the birds as she guides them through the verses. When the last note comes to a soft close, I realize that Max and I are staring. Nana's blind eyes look between us, a hopeful and expectant smile stretching the corners of her mouth.

"That was incredible, Nana," Max says, in quiet awe. "Where did you learn to sing like that? Did you study with one of the Chapters?"

"Birds," she answers with a satisfied smile.

"Can we have another song perhaps?" I ask.

She pops a berry into her mouth and looks around to the scores of feathered friends. They wait, perched on the branches, for her command. Like the congregation outside Fiona's Rest, the sight sends a sense of impending doom through me, though this lot seems to be far more peaceful. Nana contemplates the request for a long moment, seeming to lock eyes with the avian creatures one by one to gauge their interest for another tune. The berry gone, the consensus gathered, she breathes a happy and content exhale.

"No."

A flutter of wings rifts through the air at the word, and the branches become empty. The rest of lunchtime passes in near silence, save for the occasional crunch of a nut or the call of a distant animal. Nana finishes her little pile of berries, and Max takes one last handful of nuts. As I finish a piece of bread, I pull out the map from my back pocket. Unfolding it out on the blanket, I glance over the little details within the forest.

"How far are we from the next stop?" Max asks, leaning in to get a look at the map. "It was an inn, right?"

"At least a tavern," I tell him. "There's just this tankard symbol, no name to go with it. Based on the distance from Pelle's Hut, we should get there in an hour, maybe two."

"Looks like our drop-off point is a few hours east of there," Max muses, drawing a line from the tankard to the red X with his finger. "We could probably make it there by dark if we choose to take only a brief respite."

"Think you could last a few extra hours on the road tonight, Nana?" I ask her.

The milky eyes behind the glassless spectacles are fixed on the X. A skeletal finger reaches out and caresses the scarlet symbol. Her fingertip traces over the little lines, a clear and present longing. She whispers a word, soft but stronger than her typical wheeze: Elbert. I had once thought it to be a name, a lost love perhaps, but now the thought occurs that maybe in that unknown language in which she sang it is a word meaning home.

"Then let's get you to Elbert," Max says with a slight grin. She beams back to him as they rise to their feet.

We pack up our things and stow them where they belong. Nana chooses to ride with me again, and in a moment we return to the road. More peace and quiet surrounds us, providing us uninterrupted relief. I keep my eyes open, just in case, but find no bandits or other ill-intended vagabonds waiting beyond the roadside brush. In the calm, my heart wonders if Nana would grace us with a song to fill the air, but this small desire goes unsaid and unfulfilled.