Crouching down and setting Nika between my legs, I grabbed Rurik’s jaw and pried his mouth open. Putting three fingers into his mouth I fished out the body of a bug—no, spider?—and discarded it.
“He’s been eating a spider!” I said, glancing back at Brandon.
“Poisonous?”
I ignored him and concentrated on counting spider legs, “One! Two …three, help me, please.” No response.
So much for Uncle’s “helpful” companion.
“Okay, this is six, plus a body part thing. Maybe it’s not a spider?” The panic hit like a wall. “Or he swallowed part of it!” I bit my lip and searched again. The farmhand crouched down beside me. Rurik gagged and I pulled away from him, my vision blurring. Rurik coughed again and Nika started crying. Tears slipped down my own face and I rocked Nika, crying harder than necessary given the circumstances.
A hand was set firmly on my shoulder. “Calm, my lady.” I stifled another sob and rocked back and forth, my mind blurring with the panic. The hand moved away and Nika was wrenched from my arms. Then Brandon’s arms were around me. His grip was iron tight. I pressed my face into his shirt and let tears fall.
Tears of stress.
For mother
At father
From fear of falling.
When I had cried everything out I lay, exhausted, resting against him. Finally, I drew a deep breath and sat back. “Um …” I hesitated. How can I explain? Brandon shifted away and stood up.
Taking Nika from Rurik, who appeared to have for the most part spit the bug all the way out, he said softly, “Let’s go.”
“I didn’t have a chance to write to Uncle, um, where are we going?” I said.
“Erimos.”
“Oh? Really? I was engaged to their prince before father decided …you know.”
“Right.”
I nodded, saying, “Yeah, his name is similar to yours, just a different pronunciation, you know, Brenden instead of Brandon.”
The farmhand ran his hands through his hair and took a sharp breath, “I see. Well—” tossing me a sling, “—we should go.” I attached the sling behind my back and taking Nika from Brandon, slipped her into the front pouch. Brandon handed me a couple of bags, one which I noticed had a water bottle in it, and shouldered the rest. Crouching down he picked up the lantern. I put the bags on and followed him as he led Rurik toward the entrance of the cave. As we neared the entrance, Brandon blew out the lantern, and we continued in silence and gray dawn-like light till we reached the narrow entrance.
“Me first,” Brandon said. The dim light from the entrance briefly vanished as Brandon squeezed through, leaving me for a moment trapped in suffocating dark. Clinging to the edge of my skirt, Rurik whimpered. The entrance lit up once more and a soft voice called back, “All clear.”
“Okay.” I sent Rurik first, then climbed through myself. Brandon stood a couple feet away, squinting at a map. He was taller than I thought when in the cave, and well tanned from field work. His hair, black and almost dusty looking in the sunlight, tumbled in loose, messy curls over his forehead and around the nape of his neck. Folding the map he shoved it into the neck of his tunic. Glancing back at me he offered a small, tight smile and said, “This way.” He gestured up a hill. We climbed up the hill and Brandon pointed towards a smudge of trees on the horizon. “We head north-east first.” I nodded quietly, awed into silence.
The wilderness, or as we call it, the Wilds, stretched out before me, bathed in golden sunlight. The blue cloud, speckled with fluffy clouds, stretched out for miles into the distance, coming to rest in a deep blue line where it seemed to meet the land. Miles upon miles of shrubbery and golden-baked grass filled the Wilds, only occasionally disturbed by clumps of trees and walk paths and, afar off, a river.
Brandon started down the hill and I followed, taking Rurik’s hand so he wouldn’t slip. The wilderness was quiet and not much disturbed except by the wind, which blew hot sand into our faces as we walked. A few birds and an occasional hare were the only animals we saw. I would have liked conversation to help pass the time and distract myself as I found my legs quickly growing weary, but with the sand it was impossible to open your mouth without catching a mouth full of dust and dirt.
At some point Rurik slumped against my legs, moaning, “‘Onia, my feet ‘urt.”
I patted his head, saying, “It’s okay, we don’t have much longer to go.” Which was a bit of a fib, considering that only Brandon knew how far we had to go today.
Surely not that much further?
Brandon soundlessly turned to Rurik and crouched down, holding out his arms. Rurik shied away from him and hid behind my legs, but after a moment, he scooched over and let Brandon pick him up. Taking this break moment to slide one of the bags off my shoulder I pulled out the water bottle I had noticed earlier and, uncapping it, raised it to Nika’s lips. She took several tiny gulps, water running down her chin.
Really I should feed her, but I’m scared …if we stop now …
I took a swig myself and held the bottle out to Brandon. He smiled gratefully and took it. After he and Rurik had both drunk, he handed the bottle back to me and said, “We stop at dusk.”
I sighed and glanced up at the sky, then nodded. “All right, thank you.” As we continued walking, the breeze slowly died down, until I thought it was worth taking a shot at making conversation. “What is your family like?”
Brandon glanced in my direction, but made no move to reply. After a long minute he said, “Clarify, my lady?”
I hesitated, then said, “As in, is it big and noisy, or pretty average?”
“Small.”
“Ah, are you an only child?”
“Two brothers.”
I smiled. “Not much smaller than my family then. Do you own a farm?”
He made a strange face and said, “Uh …I don’t.” I laughed. He glanced at me and bit his lip.
I stifled another laugh and said, “I meant your father.”
“Right. Sort of …” Pausing, he adjusted Rurik to a more comfortable position and I realized Rurik had fallen asleep. We continued in silence, as I had the feeling Brandon would rather not talk about his family. The wind picked up again and a particularly harsh gust whipped through us, blowing sand into my mouth and eyes. Coughing, I stalled. Brandon coughed slightly and readjusted Rurik. The sling binding Nika to my chest was pulling on my shoulders, as were the bags I wore across my back, making my shoulders and neck ache.
“My lady, water bottle, please,” Brandon said. I dropped one of the bags carelessly on the ground and pulled out the water bottle. Tossing it to Brandon, I sat down.
My feet hurt.
Brandon watched me rub my sore feet and said, “We stop here for a while.”
I nodded in relief. “Thank you.” Sliding Rurik off his back, Brandon sat cross legged, nestling Rurik into his lap. My arms ached as I slid the other bag off my back and stretched my stiffened muscles. Brandon gazed at the sky, using one hand to tell the time. Biting my lip, I looked away.
I should be stronger than this, this is pathetic.
With a cry, Nika awoke, startling me from my thoughts. I rocked, hushing softly, and fed her. She hushed while eating, but began to cry again as soon as she was done. With a moan, I stood, stretching my legs. Pacing in a half moon, I sand softly from memory:
“Tears and a starlit sky,
Oh, make amends, my child!
The end of the world draws nigh
The world and the endless Wild …”
Glancing up I caught Brandon watching me with a rather blank, stoic expression. He looked away and traced in the dirt with a finger, hunching his shoulders slightly. Nika quieted and struggled against her binding, opening her little mouth in preparation of screaming. Sitting down hastily, I loosed the sling and helped her out. She grabbed at my face. Laughing, I pushed her hand down, mime scolding her. She giggled, grabbing at my mouth.
For a minute, I can forget.
Nika’s eyes sparkled as she chortled and snatched at my braid, which had tumbled over my shoulder and into range of her chubby little hands. A stray stand blew into my mouth and I pulled it out, laughing. Sand settled into my skirt, which Nika banged on, sending it flying.
“‘Onia,” Rurik called out sleepily from where he draped across Brandon.
“Come on over,” I said, waving a come motion at him. Yawning and stretching, Rurik came over and stood next to me. I smiled up at his blinking face and—shifting Nika to one knee—invited him into my lap with open arms. He plopped down and snuggled his head against my chest.
Brandon stretched and stood, fumbling through the bags for something.
Rocking the children, I went back to singing.
“From endless Wilds you came
And bore the mark undying
To end the strife, you came
To end the strife and crying.”
Rurik cut me off by pulling on my braid and I exclaimed, extracting it from his grasp. Looking up I met Brandon’s gaze. It wavered. I smiled and he smiled slightly and shrugged. I shrugged back and snuggled the kids, going back to singing.
All too soon Brandon came over and said, “Let’s continue.” He glanced at the sky. Sighing, I stood up, sliding Rurik onto the ground and bumping Nika to my hip.
“How much further, Brandon?”
The farmhand ran his hands through his hair and said, “Not half what I wanted for today.” After he helped me secure the sling for Nika and strap the packs across my back, he picked up his own bags.
“‘Onia! I wanna be carried too,” Rurik said, slumping against my leg pleadingly, and I suppressed sighing for the thousandth time that day.
“Almighty Tyes,” I swore quietly, “Sorry Rurik, I can’t.”
“I will, Ricky,” Brandon said, touching Rurik’s shoulder. Rurik reached his hands up to Brandon, who hoisted him into the air. Aligning himself north-east, or east—I wasn’t sure which and I honestly didn’t remember what direction he said we were going—Brandon glanced at me, then started walking. As we walked, I gazed around at the shrubbery and little plants which we walked through.
Growing tired of the never changing view, I talked to distract myself from the ache in my legs, no, arms, or well, everything. “Are nicknames common in your household, Brandon?”
“Why?” He paused, allowing me to catch up.
“You called Rurik ‘Ricky’ earlier, so I wondered.”
“I suppose they are.”
I hesitated then asked, “Do you have one?”
“Don, or Donnie,” he shrugged, then added, “You are welcome to call me that.” The ground slanted up for a while, making the walking slower and harder. Eventually, it evened out and we paused and ate in silence before continuing. The ground sloped down, and the walking was much quicker. The sun set slowly behind us, creating long shadows which stretched out ahead of us as if in greeting.
Brandon drew us to a halt at the base of another slope, “We sleep here.” I nodded gratefully and sank onto a bare patch of ground.