Laugavegur, A Hinterland Journey

Chapter 26 - Refugees

It was not long after Tokki departed with the dragonling that Anja woke from her slumber Perhaps it was the sudden absence of the dragon's breathing or the mind's unconscious ability to identify when you have been abandoned. She groggily looked around camp. Discovering that her brother was gone she rose to her feet, cursing and shaking the ash from her cloak and out of her hair. All that was left in camp was Tokki's satchel and the cold ashes of the fire from the night before. She wrapped her travel cloak around herself tightly to hold back the morning cold as she rummaged through Tokki's bag. Finding no food, she tossed the bag away.

Her anger was not that Tokki had taken the egg. She could do without eating, but she was incensed that he would take the dragonling and leave her to walk to the pass. She could see the way; walk upstream along the river to where the ridgeline dropped down and follow that all the way up to the base of the glacier. From there, well, she would just have to figure it out. If Tokki wanted part in avenging their parents, he could find her on the ridgeline. She was not going to await his return.

As Anja walked along the river, the sun rose, bathing the clouds above in a deep red to match the glow emanating from the top of the pass. Ash began to fall in earnest once again. Anja felt a pulse of adrenaline tingle across her shoulders and down her back. Save that. It is to be a long day and we will need it later.

She smelled the campfires well before she saw them; the smoke hanging like mist in the river valley. Unsure of who or what would be making camp so close to Miredale Mountain, Anja approached cautiously, secreting herself in the stunted birch and rowan trees that lined the valley. She came across a clearing filled with hastily erected shelters surrounding central campfires. People were busily moving about. Anja saw steel axes and swords, shields, and helmets.

From behind her, she heard a man with a smooth voice call out, "I can take a raven on the wing at fifty yards. I am pretty sure I can take you at ten. Turn around. Slowly."

Anja turned to see a man, perhaps only a handful of years her senior, drawing down on her with a bow of oiled black wood. Unlike most men, he was beardless, carried no tattoos, and sported a full head of hair that was pulled into a tidy braid down the center of his back. When he saw that she was but a young girl, he quickly lowered his weapon.

"What are you doing out here all alone? Tis not a safe place to be a-wandering."

"I am not completely without protection," she said drawing her sword. The man took a step back, drawing up again.

"Easy now," he said.

Anja twirled the sword lightly in her hand. "Don't be so jumpy, I mean you no ill. I have greater enemies to slay this day."

"Greater enemies?" the man asked. "You mean..." He cocked his head toward the burning mountain.

"And what if I did?" Anja replied defensively, sheathing her sword.

The man evaluated her carefully. "Come," he said, lowering his bow again. "Let me show you that you needn't do this alone. My name is Kiran."

"Anja."

With an arm he gestured toward an opening in the wood that led to the clearing.

The temporary village was part barracks and part triage camp. On one side, hunters and warriors were lightly sparring with one another or waiting in line for a new helm or sword. On the opposite side of camp, Anja saw many people laid out on mats and furs groaning in pain. It appeared the most common injuries were burns. Anja cursed herself for leaving Tokki's apothecary satchel with his bag at their camp. Ash continued to fall lightly, accumulating in people's hair.

"Where did they all come from?" Anja asked, brushing the ash from her shoulders.

"All over. A large portion came in this morning from The Bottomlands. Seems there was a Dragorhraun attack there just a day passed."