Risk

Chapter XIX

The night still held traces of the heat of the day, so Jasta didn't wish for a fire, but as the night wore on and the stars grew brighter overhead, the day's heat began to wear off—not enough to need a coat or a fire, but enough to make her uncomfortably chilly. She could feel the goosebumps on her arms as a breeze blew wraith-like thought the night.

The ground was uncomfortable and rocky, so she found herself shifting positions every few minutes. The sound of the river seemed louder now that all was silent. She found herself almost considering going down and testing if the water was okay for a bath. She really needed one, and it would save time to do it at night, but at the same time, she couldn't see. She might fall in, or she could trip on the way there and hurt herself.

She decided to wait. She was sure Rowan wanted to wash too, so it wasn't like it would take that much time out of their traveling. Besides, she couldn't leave the camp unguarded. That would be irresponsible, especially when she'd promised to stay up. She didn't break promises.

The night dragged on. The moon shone bright silver through the leafy boughs overhead, bathing everything in its light, and making the world seem a different place. From somewhere far away, an owl hooted, and then, closer to where she was, another owl answered. They had to be hunting to bring back a meal for their young, which would have been hatched recently, if she was correct, and the thought filled her with sadness. She would have hunted for her own family, if she hadn't been taken away.

She stifled a yawn. She felt her eyelids drooping lower with every second, but she was so tired that she could hardly be bothered to care. But she had made a promise. She rose to her feet. She would walk around if that was what it would take so stay vigilant. She didn't want it to be her fault that the camp was raided.

She paced around the clearing, swinging her arms and watching the stars as they twinkled in the black expanse of the sky. She felt as far away from home as the stars were from her. When she thought about it, she felt frustrated. She knew that they hadn't been traveling for very long, and there was another couple weeks of journeying at least before they would be close to her own village. Would she even recognize it when she returned? Would they recognize her? She hated to think that she might look so different that they wouldn't know her when they saw her.

She tugged at a small end of yarn hanging limply from her sleeve as she paced. She thought about how hot it had been. If it was going to get any hotter, she would have to get different clothes. Wool was very good for the winter months and early spring when the chill was still fresh in the air, but now it would be summer soon. She would be boiled alive in her own sweat if she tried to wear her clothes for the entire journey back home. She would have to ask Rowan, but she didn't want to depend on him. She tried to think if she had anything that was worth trading for new clothes, but she thought for less than a second before she concluded that she had nothing worth any value.

As she passed a bush, she tore a few leaves off, letting them fall slowly through her fingers as she walked. The leaves felt soft and supple, and just a tad warm. They were growing as if it was the first thaw of spring, and not soon-to-be-summer. As she passed the bush again, she noticed bright green berries hidden among the leaves. They wouldn't be ripe for months yet, and their color made them hard to distinguish, but they were definitely there. They might have even been the same sort of berry that she had in her little food pack, but these ones were later in blooming.

She knew the small, hard green berries would be bitter, but she was almost tempted to try one. She always loved when the berry bushes near the village were ripe, and she could go out and pick as many as she pleased. There had been many a sun-filled day when she would take Rose out, and they would bring back huge bucket loads of berries to be made into wines and preserves. The whole village took part, and then the next year, they would judge the winners of the contest. It happened every year, with the last year's entries being judged on the day that the entries for the next year were being made. It was great fun, and the winner often went home with all kinds of prizes—anything from a fat little pig, to a brand new rake or shovel. The mornings were typically packed tight with picking and pressing and packing away the ripe fruits, but then in the afternoons, everyone would get the prize preserve or wine from their last year's batch and bring it out to the center of the village, where a chosen judge would test each one and determine the winners. She missed it sorely.

The memories that had one seemed so close now seemed miles away. She didn't even know if she would ever get back to those happy days and the life she knew so well, and if she ever did get back, would she be happy? After living on the run, with bandits chasing her, and eating only what they could afford, would she be able to go back to her quiet little life?

Yes.

Yes, she would.

She hated all the excitement, and the danger, and never knowing what would happen next. It made her feel powerless and afraid that she would be risking her life around every bend. That wasn't the life for her.

She realized that thinking of home was keeping her from feeling tired, so she allowed herself to be lost in memories.

The time that Emam and Hadrie, the village troublemakers had planned on releasing a raccoon into the Baker's shop, but their plan had backfired. The two naughty boys had been wearing bandages and medicinal poultices for weeks afterward, when the raccoon had broken free and attacked the two of them before they'd even gotten out of the woods. Gertrude, the boys' younger sister, had heard their plan. Although the boys had lied at first about where they'd received the injuries, Gertie had stepped up to tell the truth of what had really happened to the boys. It had happened long enough ago that it was no more than a funny story to everyone- including both boys.

Then there was the time when a merchant had stopped at the village. He was an old man, ancient, in fact, with no hair on his head, and a beard that nearly reached the ground. He'd only ever worn long, silky robes of a bright green. He had many strange wares in his cart, and everyone had flocked to see what wonders he would unpack. Jasta remembered the small necklace she had bought from him. It had been a tiny white stone, polished to perfection. It had taken nearly a week of working to save up enough to get it. She remembered the feeling of sadness as the cart started to drive away, but she had run as fast as her legs could carry her to catch up when she got the last few coins that she needed, and she had purchased the little trinket. She didn't know what had happened to it, but it had vanished one day, and she had never been able to find it again.

She remembered when Sirah, the village butcher, accidentally mistook one of Michelli's pigs for one of his own, and by the time the crotchety old farmer had even found out, the pig was nothing more than flanks of meat hanging up in the windows of Sirah's shop. Michelli had been so mad, and he'd come into town yelling so loud that it woke everyone up before the sun had even cleared the horizon. In the end, Sirah had ended up very embarrassed, and Michelli had gone home with several cuts of ham to store in his cellar in the place of one of his prized pigs.

She remembered the supposedly haunted cabin in the woods a few minutes' walk from town. It was almost a test of courage for the boys of the village to enter or even attempt staying the night in the old decrepit building.

She spent the night remembering things that had happened over the years of her life, and then she started to wonder what was happening there now, but before she could really start thinking, she realized with a start that it was already starting to grow lighter with the first rays of dawn light. She was able to see Star on the other side of the clearing, bathed in the milky light.

She figured she would wake Rowan up right away. It couldn't hurt to get an early start, and she was sure that the night's sleep would have done him a world of good. She headed over to the tent.