.
They were asking him to pull a rabbit from the hat and Dravite was growing angry. “I’ve been out all night looking with the men, what more can I do?” His eyes narrowed, his voice was lowered, and he felt a familiar tightness in his shoulders.
Belkaia had been pacing back and forth, only now did she stop, throwing her hands up. “I can’t believe you didn’t follow him! He is our Ankal! He is my father!”
She raised her hand to strike but Dravite caught her wrist in his palm tightly. “You’re angry, we all are, but right now I am tired. I need rest. I haven’t slept for two days, my love.”
Belkaia pulled her hand away from Dravite and stormed off, scooping up their son Kyanite as she went. The man watched his wife disappear into his mother’s tent on the far side of camp where most of the women had gathered around Lazuli to comfort her. Not only had she lost her husband, but a step-son as well; Belhatir was still too far from anyone’s reach to pick up using the web, though Dravite had a fair idea where his friend was headed.
The majority of Endrykas had already packed up and moved on, with only the stragglers remaining; opportunists and families that weren’t big enough to keep up with the strength of the moving city. Dravite watched them drift by the camp with their pack animals, jumping gently when he felt a warm hand on his shoulder. “Brother, we should go soon or we will arrive late for the summer,” one of the warriors encouraged.
Dravite nodded, ignoring the heavy feeling in his eyelids and the dragging of his feet. “Make sure everyone is packed up, I want us out of here before midday.”
The man nodded and moved on to help other Windborne members take down their tents and round up their animals. Dravite went to his mother’s tent and carefully stepped inside, nervous that the women would scold him for interrupting. “We need to go now; we’ve wasted too much time,” he told them.
The mothers and daughters of the Windborne pavilion looked to Lazuli who sat quietly with her head bowed. “Did you find Belhaur; we cannot go without our Ankal.”
“Wherever he went he took his horse and people know we’re looking for him, someone will find him in the webbing. Until then he knows our plans, after all they are his own,” Dravite pointed out, “If we don’t go now we are putting lives at risk.”
Lazuli murmured, “My son is right… Fetch your things; we leave within the next bell.”
Packing up took longer than any of them had anticipated; this being the first year in some time that the pavilion had decided to live on the fringes of Endrykas permanently. People had settled and perhaps made themselves a little too comfortable, leaving more to carry away to the next place they found. Dravite had always preferred to live light, but even he was guilty of collecting more than he could carry alone for the journey, or he would have been, if the family tent hadn’t been demolished by the wildfire on the seventy-second day of spring.
He took down the deer pelt he had salted and left to dry in the sun, it still needed time to cure properly, but would have to be rolled up for now to ride with him on his Strider. Belkaia had her own mount that she had bonded with at a young age. The mare was spritely, but preferred to go slow, hanging out at the back of the moving convoy. Dravite put his right hand on the animal’s wither and leaned forward to press a kiss to Kyanite’s cheek who sat up in his mother’s lap. “Get a head start with the others. I’ll stay back and make sure no one leaves anything behind.”
Belkaia didn’t look at him, acknowledging the man with a hasty hand signal, “Husband.”
“Wife,” he called after her in jest as she rode away on her mare. .
.
.
Continued from here.
90 Spring, 515 AV
Morning
Morning
They were asking him to pull a rabbit from the hat and Dravite was growing angry. “I’ve been out all night looking with the men, what more can I do?” His eyes narrowed, his voice was lowered, and he felt a familiar tightness in his shoulders.
Belkaia had been pacing back and forth, only now did she stop, throwing her hands up. “I can’t believe you didn’t follow him! He is our Ankal! He is my father!”
She raised her hand to strike but Dravite caught her wrist in his palm tightly. “You’re angry, we all are, but right now I am tired. I need rest. I haven’t slept for two days, my love.”
Belkaia pulled her hand away from Dravite and stormed off, scooping up their son Kyanite as she went. The man watched his wife disappear into his mother’s tent on the far side of camp where most of the women had gathered around Lazuli to comfort her. Not only had she lost her husband, but a step-son as well; Belhatir was still too far from anyone’s reach to pick up using the web, though Dravite had a fair idea where his friend was headed.
The majority of Endrykas had already packed up and moved on, with only the stragglers remaining; opportunists and families that weren’t big enough to keep up with the strength of the moving city. Dravite watched them drift by the camp with their pack animals, jumping gently when he felt a warm hand on his shoulder. “Brother, we should go soon or we will arrive late for the summer,” one of the warriors encouraged.
Dravite nodded, ignoring the heavy feeling in his eyelids and the dragging of his feet. “Make sure everyone is packed up, I want us out of here before midday.”
The man nodded and moved on to help other Windborne members take down their tents and round up their animals. Dravite went to his mother’s tent and carefully stepped inside, nervous that the women would scold him for interrupting. “We need to go now; we’ve wasted too much time,” he told them.
The mothers and daughters of the Windborne pavilion looked to Lazuli who sat quietly with her head bowed. “Did you find Belhaur; we cannot go without our Ankal.”
“Wherever he went he took his horse and people know we’re looking for him, someone will find him in the webbing. Until then he knows our plans, after all they are his own,” Dravite pointed out, “If we don’t go now we are putting lives at risk.”
Lazuli murmured, “My son is right… Fetch your things; we leave within the next bell.”
Packing up took longer than any of them had anticipated; this being the first year in some time that the pavilion had decided to live on the fringes of Endrykas permanently. People had settled and perhaps made themselves a little too comfortable, leaving more to carry away to the next place they found. Dravite had always preferred to live light, but even he was guilty of collecting more than he could carry alone for the journey, or he would have been, if the family tent hadn’t been demolished by the wildfire on the seventy-second day of spring.
He took down the deer pelt he had salted and left to dry in the sun, it still needed time to cure properly, but would have to be rolled up for now to ride with him on his Strider. Belkaia had her own mount that she had bonded with at a young age. The mare was spritely, but preferred to go slow, hanging out at the back of the moving convoy. Dravite put his right hand on the animal’s wither and leaned forward to press a kiss to Kyanite’s cheek who sat up in his mother’s lap. “Get a head start with the others. I’ll stay back and make sure no one leaves anything behind.”
Belkaia didn’t look at him, acknowledging the man with a hasty hand signal, “Husband.”
“Wife,” he called after her in jest as she rode away on her mare. .
.
.