PART THREE -- GATHERING
“Trust not in Kings nor councilors, for the wise walk as beggars. Rags are riches. Empty is full. Know nothing and be contented.”
-From The Gate of Mystery
CHAPTER 19 -- INTO THE MOUNTAINS
As they made their way steadily northward Kehyo's initial nervousness began to subside. He had felt terribly exposed on the open road. They had to be watchful, always on the defensive, hiding Ryela, and constantly worrying about her safety. Now Kehyo looked forward to the comfort of tree cover once more. With the mountains coming ever closer, his spirits were on the rise.
Kehyo rode in front of Somi on the skinny old beshri. He was looking out for each new landmark as they progressed gradually toward the mountains. Ryela sat in his lap, the wind gently ruffling her fur and making her tufted ears twitch from time to time. Somi seemed as taciturn as ever, guardedly optimistic about their choice of a route to the mountains.
Kehyo was captivated by the changes in topography. The broad plains grudgingly gave way to the encroaching scrub grass and eventually to small stands of hisk. Later in the day, Kehyo’s eyes were on the horizon as bare rock cliffs on the nearest slopes came into view. He scanned the skies for Koreks. At last, near the end of their long march, he spotted a lone bird, floating high above the plain. It looked like a small dark blot. The bird coasted over them for many miles, riding the updrafts that formed near the cooler peaks.
Kehyo watched the land as his shadow, and those of his companions, slowly lengthened off to their right. The sun hung lower now, nearer to the horizon, and cast a golden light that caught the face of the high cliffs ahead. The light set the jagged rock into stark relief against the shadowed trees clinging to the steep slopes all around. Kehyo stared in wonder at these strange, spiky trees, which shot up from the earth like so many feathers. They were nothing like the rambling and riotous growth of the forest to the south.
They rode down a scrub-covered bank and into a small valley nestled in the hills. The valley ran northwest, and at its bottom was a large body of water, sparkling in the low angle light. Kehyo watched with delight as gusts of wind showed themselves as intermittent patterns on the surface of the lake. He was transfixed. He had never seen so much water in one place.
The little river near his village was only a trickle compared to this embarrassment of riches. The beshri seemed to quicken her pace, sensing the water ahead. Kehyo was the first to come down. He slid awkwardly over the side of the beast and tumbled to the soft grass. He laughed at the pure joy of grass underfoot, and looked back for his father and Ryela.
Ryela was more guarded. She sniffed the air a few moments, and then jumped off the rear end of the beshri and came to Kehyo’s side. Somi came down last. Dropping the reins, he deftly swung himself to the soft earth. The beshri began to run full out toward the edge of the lake. The others followed.
After going so long without fresh water, the three kneeled at the shoreline and drank their fill. The air had turned cooler since the sun had set below the hills. Ryela sat by the water with a light breeze on her back. Somi stood beside Kehyo.
“Shall we bathe, or is it too cold?” Somi said.
“Bathe? In this…what is it?”
“A lake,” Somi answered, amused.
“I can’t imagine stepping into so much fresh water. It makes me think of the tiny well back home, and of the backbreaking work that made the irrigation channels,” Kehyo said and shook his head.
“Have you never swum before?” Somi asked.
“No father, I have just waded or splashed in the river or the channels when Tahr wasn’t looking.”
The beshri, which stood knee deep, was drinking voluminously all the while. Somi tested the water with his toe. It was quite cold, probably owing to the mountain snows that even in late summer still clung to the highest peaks. After the others had drunk their fill, Somi threw caution to the wind, and to the surprise of Kehyo, he plunged into the cold, dark water. By the time Ryela dipped her forepaws into the lake to wash herself, both Kehyo and Somi were splashing about. Kehyo flapped awkwardly, fighting the water, but Somi was an accomplished swimmer, moving with graceful and powerful strokes. Their hoots and laughter echoed off the cliffs. Ryela dipped her paws into the water repeatedly and cleaned her dusty fur thoroughly for the first time in many days.
Kehyo soon tired of trying to keep his thin body afloat and came out to sun on a rock. Somi turned and lay on his back, watching the slow unfurling and mutation of high clouds in the golden evening light. They drifted lazily above him in the blue vault of the sky, just as he drifted upon the liquid body of the lake below. He closed his eyes and tried to lie as still as possible, trusting the water to hold him up. He felt the buoyancy of his own air as it cycled through his lungs. He could hear the rasping of his breath and a high hissing ring in his head. The longer he floated, the more the weightlessness and lack of sensation overtook all else. He felt that he had become one with the water, his limbs and torso dissolving into mere phantoms of sensory memory. He felt at peace. He floated like that for a while, experiencing the odd vertigo of sensory deprivation. After a time, Somi dragged himself up onto a boulder by the lake next to Kehyo. He was thoroughly relaxed. Soon father and son fell asleep in the sunlight.
#
They set up their tent near the water’s edge. It was a crudely woven bag of fabric, but lightweight and strong. They took breaks from time to time while they worked to watch as the undersides of the scattered clouds turned a livid pink. Then Somi took Kehyo into the quiet glade of trees along the lakeside and showed him how to set a trap. They had to dig through a deep layer of rust colored needles with their hands to find the soil. It was dark and moist. Somi made a deep hole in the soft earth with a broken stick. They set several stout sticks upright within it, each of which Kehyo had sharpened with his knife. Then they covered the hole with a layer of broad leaves that grew near to the water. Even Somi was not sure what they might catch.
After about an hour they heard a desperate squealing and spent a few minutes extracting the creature that had spitted itself on the sticks. It was plump, four-legged, and furry, and had a flattened face with long whiskers. Kehyo turned away at the sight of the blood and left his father’s side. Somi made the killing as painless as possible by simply running his knife under the neck of the animal, severing the windpipe. He stooped there, by the water, and said a few mumbled words over the slack body of the dead creature. It had been weeks since either of them had eaten any meat. They washed the animal’s fur clean and gutted it. Somi decided they should eat it here, away from Ryela; they didn’t want to offend her, qeegogs being strictly herbivorous.
Their fire was made right next to the water. Kehyo helped gather fallen branches and kindling. When all was ready, Somi reached into his oket and produced a tool Kehyo had never seen. It was not as long as his outstretched hand and it looked something like a miniature blowgun. It was shaped from a slender tube of horn, carved with tongues of flame. To the wonder of Kehyo, Somi pulled on one end and a smaller cylinder slid out from within the first, with a pop. The end of the smaller cylinder was fitted with a dry tuft of grass. When the two tubes were slid inside one another once more Somi used a swift motion with both palms of his hands to force the tool closed and there was a loud crack. When the tubes were pulled apart, a glowing red coal rested in the end of the smaller cylinder. This was a Fire Stick, and Kehyo marveled at the ease of its use. Within a few minutes, the logs were crackling and the animal was turning on the spit. The meat was moist and tasted a bit gamey, but, other than there being too little of it, they had no other complaints.
After their meal, the men rejoined Ryela and bedded down for the night. The air was crisp but Kehyo felt wonderful with his full belly and his father snoring away in the darkness next to him. He slept like a baby, but Ryela did not.