Warsong (Chronicles of the Warlands, #6)(15)

“Well, Auntie wasn’t here when those things swooped down and killed two of our heifers, now was she?” Nerith’s face held a bitter look.

Usek scowled at the sandwich in his hands. “If you’re thinking there’s something to those tales, well then, I’ll tell ya. Gladly.”

“Yeah,” Nerith nodded. “So, she talks about the brave riders of the airions, defenders of Xy. She’s got stories of fighting off wyverns, and acts them out with her hands.” Nerith set his sandwich in his lap, and started waving his hands around. “The airions always have it rough, until they managed to come at the wyverns out of the sun, and grab them with their fore-claws, raking them with the hind.”

“They have claws on all four legs?” Amyu asked eagerly.

“Aye,” Usek reached out with his free hand and hooked his fingers to show her. “Long, and sharp, and deadly. They sink into the thick leathery wyvern skin, and hold tight.” He closed his fingers in to show her.

They started telling tales of riders and airions, taking bits of food between using their hands to describe the tales.

“But know you this,” Nerith hunched over, making his voice as creaky as Auntie’s as he threw his arm out, pointing off toward the beginnings of a path just behind them. “The airions sleep, awaiting the day of Xy’s greatest need. Then shall the chosen ones wake them and once again ride the skies,” He cackled. Anser and Usek chortled. “And who knows, young ones, but you might be the chosen ones.”

“They are sleeping?” Amyu asked, wide-eyed. “Up there?” she asked, looking off to the mountain side, covered in pines and scrub.

“Oh, aye,” Anser said. “She’d insist that was the path. I spent hours roaming up there as a kid, climbing the paths until I got called back to chores.”

“As did we,” Nerith laughed. “Not sure how we didn’t manage to kill ourselves on some of those trails.”

Usek gave a nod, taking a drink of the clear cold water in his mug before speaking. “Of course, we didn’t climb very far or fast. Path gets really risky as you get above the tree line.”

“But it’s all stories anyway,” Nerith said with a shrug. “Airions don’t exist, do they?”

“I am not so sure,” Usek said. “You know those saddles we used to play on, back of the cheese barn?”

“Aye?” Anser asked. “What about them? They’ve been there a stone’s age; I used to play on them when my Da was turning the cheeses.

“I always wondered about them.” Usek tilted his head. “Let me show you.”




Amyu’s eyes grew wide as Usek slid back the large, thick wooden door. “It’s a cave,” she said in amazement.

“Aye,” Anser was puffed with pride. “Been used by the family for generations.”

Just inside were rows and rows of wooden shelving, each holding wheels of cheese. They stretched back as far as the light would let her see, and off to the sides as well. There was a dry, slightly bitter taste in the air.

“This is all cheese?” she asked.

Anser swelled with what had to be pride. “Aye, best in Xy if you are looking for hard, sharp cheese. Soft cheeses, now anyone can do, but our family dries and ages and—”

“Rotates,” both Nerith and Usek spoke as one. “To obtain uniform taste and texture that is the envy of all of Xy and beyond these mountains.”

Anser snorted as the boys laughed. “Tease all ya want,” he said. “It’s true enough.”

“Aye,” Nerith was reaching for metal lanterns, handing one to his father and brother. “But Sun God above us all, the only thing more boring than rotating the cheeses is keeping track of the cheeses that have been rotated!”

“But that attention to details is what—”

Amyu watched and listened as they argued. Usek was ignoring them, lighting the lanterns with a flint and striker. He took two up, and handed one to her.

“It’s an old argument,” he whispered. “Come with me,” and he headed off down the narrow path between the shelves.

Amyu followed.

The darkness of the cave soon enveloped them, the shadows of the cheese-lined shelves dancing strange patterns as they moved past. Amyu wrinkled her nose; it wasn’t a bad smell, or even musty or stale, but it was a sharper scent as they moved further in. She glanced up, but the light didn’t touch the ceiling. “How big is this place?” she asked as they moved on.

“Big,” Usek said. “We don’t use it all, but Auntie swears that it used to be filled.”

“It doesn’t smell stale,” Amyu said.

“That’s because there is a draft that moves from the doorway to the back of the cave.” He stopped then, glanced back at the others, and dropped his voice. “You’re going up there, aren’t you?”

Amyu froze, but his expression was more of caring than forbidding. “I—”

“Aye, your pack told me,” Usek said, giving her a frown. “If you explore caves, make sure you check for signs of bears and cats first, and watch the air flow. They don’t all have natural chimneys.” He glanced back to where Nerith and his father were coming up behind them. “You understand?”