Risk

Chapter XXII

Jasta sat there for a while. With the heat, her hair was soon completely dry, but now that she was wearing clothing much more suited to the climate, it didn't bother her nearly so much. She stood up and stretched. If he wasn't showing up soon, she might as well take down the tent so they could leave right when he got back.

She tore it down and folded it as best she could, though it still wasn't as good as Rowan was able to do. She stuffed it in the pack, and then grabbed Star's saddle to put it on again.

"Where do you think he went?" she murmured quietly as she strapped the saddle in place. "I still can't believe how I acted. Do you think he'll ever forgive me?" she gazed into the mare's huge brown eyes, and even though she was sure the horse could not understand a word she was saying, there was a certain gentle look in her eyes that calmed Jasta.

She let out a sigh. She didn't know what she would do if Rowan didn't understand. She felt horrible. She had cleaned and scrubbed herself perfectly on the outside, but she still felt grimy and caked with dirt on the inside. It all came from being so suspicious, and most of that suspicion came from the fact that he was a Risk. She couldn't believe herself. After being so shocked about how badly Risks were treated in Rowan's story, she had turned around and been exactly like that herself.

She grabbed the pack and put it on Star's back, securing it with the usual ropes. She was never quite sure that she did it right, but it hadn't fallen off yet, so she couldn't be doing too badly.

She shuffled around in the pack until she found her own little bundle of food, and she ate the last of the bread with a small handfull of berries, then she returned to her seat on the log to get her boots back on.

Just as she sat down, she saw movement through the trees, and then Rowan pushed his way through the narrow opening between the thick clumps of lush growth that crowded this part of the forest so densely. He was holding shoes, but they were so unlike any shoes she'd ever seen that she didn't know what they were when she first saw them. They weren't boots like she always wore, or even the strange short shoes that the travelers to the village sometimes liked to wear.

They had holes in them. In fact, it was nothing more than a sturdy slab of leather, with several thin straps crossing over the top, also made of leather. When he got near enough, he held them out to her.

She looked at him questioningly for a second, hoping to get an answer out of him, but he didn't meet her gaze, so she just grabbed the strange shoes and sat back down to figure out how to wear them.

She had trouble figuring out exactly which strap went where on her foot, but when she finally did figure it out, she realized that the design was actually quite simple. Just like the new clothes, they fit perfectly, and they were very clearly a better match to the weather than her clunky boots. She didn't even need socks.

She looked up at Rowan to thank him, but he was already sitting atop the horse, ready to leave. She sighed. She understood that he wouldn't want to talk to her. She didn't deserve anything from him, and she was surprised he had kept helping her for so long.

She walked over to Star and grabbed hold of the saddle to help pull herself up, but she paused. What words would ever be able to make up for her actions? She had to fix this.

But she knew the answer. Nothing she could say would even begin to help the situation, so she only muttered a quick, "I'm sorry." Before she swung herself clumsily into a position just behind Rowan. She wished she could see his face so that she could see if her words had any effect.

"Are you really sorry?" the question surprised her. Wasn't he able to tell that she was? He had said he could himself. She listened to hear if there was any betraying emotion in his voice, but the tone was strangely blank.