Warsong (Chronicles of the Warlands, #6)(47)

Joden shook his head, but he didn’t have the strength to argue. He wished he could offer her more.

Amyu heaved a sigh, then shook her head with a wry smile. “Why don’t you walk and stretch while I take these things to the stream.” She stood, and started to gather up the bowls and pot. “We’ll save the extra meat. When I get back, we’ll get ready to leave in the morning.”

Joden rose to his feet, nodding his agreement.

Amyu took up the waterskin to refill, and headed to the edge to climb down.

“A-a-amyu,” he said, then took a breath.

Amyu glanced back, her eyebrows raised.

“Y-y-you w-w-will r-r-return.” he said slowly, taking care with every word.

“If I get permission,” she said ruefully, and with that she was gone, climbing out of sight.




The worst part of it would be getting Joden down the cliff face to the path below.

At least, Amyu hoped that would be the worst of their journey.

They fashioned a tunic from the white cloth, with a hole for Joden’s head, and a strip to belt it around his waist. Amyu tried not to let the white of the cloth bother her. That was the traditional garb of one who was offering their lives as a sacrifice, or about to seek the snows.

But it was what it was. She didn’t want to cut their blankets, since they’d spend at least one more night on the mountain. Maybe two, depending on their progress. Besides, the cloth wouldn’t stay white long.

The rabbit skins she’d rubbed with ash and dried. Not the best method, but the skins only had to last until they were off the mountain. Those and strips of cloth would serve as shoes. Joden’s soles were tough, as were any of the Plains, but these paths were not the grasses of the Plains. Any protection for his feet would help.

She used the longest strips of white cloth to ease Joden down over the edge. Amyu braced herself, wrapping the longest strip around her hips, using both hands to let it out. Joden sat on the edge, and at her nod, eased himself over the edge, grabbing for whatever hand holds he could find.

Amyu grunted as her feet slid on the stone. Her biggest fear was that he would have convulsions and collapse, leaving him a hanging deadweight. She was trembling and wet with sweat when Joden finally gave a shout that he was on the path.

Breathing hard, she let the strips fall after him, and gathered up her pack with the bedroll. Out of habit, she kicked the ashes of the fire to be sure it was cold.

She took one last look around at the stone work. True, she hadn’t found airions, but she believed Joden. He’d seen something.

“Permission or not,” she whispered. “I will return.”

She lowered the pack to Joden, and then climbed down. “I will take the lead,” she said as she swung the pack onto her shoulders. “This is not the Plains, Joden. The path is narrow and steep. Here’s hoping down is easier than up.”

Joden nodded, and gestured for her to lead the way.

The path was even more difficult than she remembered, and it didn’t take long for her to realize that down was harder on her knees and ankles. She slowed her pace, not willing to risk a fall. Amyu bit her lip. Their trip descent was going to take longer than she had thought.

Joden was a warrior, so there were no complaints. But he stopped once in a while, to rest or catch his breath. She made sure to stop and wait for him, never getting too far ahead, giving him the time he needed. Thankfully the day was bright and the sun high and warm. That was one worry off her mind.

When the path got particularly bad, she stopped and let Joden use her shoulder for balance. Once he made it past the hard part, he stopped to breathe.

“Harder than it looks,” Amyu said.

Joden just nodded.

As the day wore on, Amyu started to think about shelter, and finding food. They were drinking as they went, and soon the waterskin would need refiling as well. She walked further ahead on the switchback path, just below where Joden was walking. “Watch this part,” Amyu said. “The way here is washed out and old—”

Looking around, she tried to orient herself. Hadn’t there been a cave just—

A sharp cry; a rattle of stones.

She jerked around to see Joden falling toward her.





Chapter Sixteen


Joden tried to focus on his footsteps, he truly did.

Amyu was right, this was not a walk through a wide expanse of grasses. Here he had to watch each step, and test the footing with care. Each stone, each root, each branch all seemed determined to cause him to stumble. For the first few hours he managed well enough.

But his thoughts were stampeding horses, running where they would, distracting him.

Where were his words?

His breath caught in his throat, and he swallowed hard not wanting Amyu to hear his grief. A Singer without words, without song, was not a Singer.

If he wasn’t a Singer, what was he?

Nothing. He was nothing.

Joden stopped on the path, his heart heavy in his chest, his vision blurred as he faced the truth of that.

This place was so strange, with the trees that swayed in the breeze, clinging to the sides of the slope. The taste of the air itself was different and disorienting. Joden stood, breathing, trying to find comfort in the midst of strangeness.

Ahead, well, below him, Amyu paused on the path and looked back.

She was lovely in the sun, her brown hair caught by the breeze. Strong and determined to get him to Keir and Lara.