Faerling

Book 1, _Crystal_Mirrors_

Part XIV

Donal's head ached. He blinked against the harsh afternoon light from the window, each ray of light sending shooting sparks through his mind. He could concentrate better if he closed his eyes, so he did just that. Soft voices came to him from the other room.

"Yes, Miss, my boys found him lying aside the road on their way out t'work this dawn. Thought he was dead for sure, but there was still warmth in the body so they brung him on home t'me." A gravely voice that Donal thought was female spoke. He assumed that his own body was the one that had been found.

His body felt as if winter's cold had settled in his bones, and when he raised a hand to cautiously touch the back of his head he found a tender lump. His fingers came away covered with dried blood. His head swimming, he leaned back against the hard pillow quickly.

He heard footsteps moving closer to his room, and the sound of a door knob clicking open. A familiar voice spoke. "I thank you, Mrs. Grimes, for your care of my companion. When do you think he will be able to move?"

There was a gravely laugh. "Well, dearie, that'll depend on when he wakes, now won't it? 'Tis always chancy with a head wound, and he was knocked hard." She laughed again. "Them pointy-eared folk ain't always the hardiest of folks either."

The door creaked open. Donal raised his hand, the slight movement catching Gil's eyes. She grinned wryly. "I don't think we have anything to worry about, Mrs. Grimes." She walked over to the bed and placed a hand on the half-elf's shoulder. "How do you feel?" she asked in a low voice.

"I feel as if I were a target dyring weapons practice," Donal commented, his throat rough and dry, his eyes still tightly shut. He carefully leaned forward so Gil could see where his head was injured. Opening his eyes cautiously he saw Gil watching him, concern in her expression. "My mouth tastes like something died inside it."

Mrs. Grimes laughed, walking slowly to the bed, leaning heavily on a wooden cane. She was a thin old woman, her gnarled knuckles and stiff legs indicating the stiffening limbs of old age. She lifted a gnarled hand to the rickety table beside the bed, grasping a cloth which had been soaking in a basin. She wrung it out slowly, and Gil turned away from the scent that rose. She placed the cloth over the lump on Donal's head. Despite the nasueating odor he found his head felt better.

Gil turned to face the old woman. "Mrs. Grimes, would you mind leaving me alone with my friend here? I would like to speak with him privately." She watched while the old woman looked carefully at her, then at Donal. Then, with a creak of old bones, she turned and slowly left.

As the door clicked closed behind her, Donal closed his eyes again. "Would you please close the curtains?" he asked, his voice still low and gravely. "The light is painful." He heard Gil's footsteps, then the closing of the heavy curtains, and a moment later he felt the weight of Gil's body as she sat on the bed.

"How do you *really* feel?" she asked softly.

"Like absolute hell." His eyes opened, his sight adjusting easily to the darkness. "Might I ask what happened? And do you see anything to drink?"

Gil unhooked her waterskin from her belt and handed it to Donal, waiting while he drank. When he handed it back to her, she took a sip herself, then hooked it back onto her belt, speaking again as she did so.

"How soon will you be able to move?" she asked, her voice still pitched low in concern for Donal's aching head. "We have to find Alec and Genna because I mucked up Tansy's t-port spell and we all got scattered all over the place but we *are* in a valley in the mountains of the frozen wastelands and since you're here I don't expect Genna and Alec can be too far away." Gil's speech was hurried and soft, and she couldn't meet Donal's eyes. She knew they were lucky to be alive, for disruption of such a spell was *very* dangerous.

Donal sat up slowly. Without the light to hurt his eyes his head did not swim so much, and the nausea had passed. As he moved, the damp cloth fell from his head, landing with a damp thunk on the pillow behind him. Gil wrinkled her nose at the odor that rose anew.

"Help me stand," Donal's voice was stronger, not so scratchy and hoarse. He carefully swung his legs over the edge of the bed, his feet falling flat on the floor. Gil stood before him, grasping his hands in hers, pulling him to his feet. Donal stood for a moment, his legs wobbling, then grimaced as he tried to take a small step forward, lost his balance, and pitched forward into Gil's arms, knocking her over.

"Are you always so gentle with the ladies?" Gil grinned at the half-elf sprawled across her lap. Donal glared at her, rolling over to lie on the floor.

"It appears that I am weaker than I thought," he said slowly. "My head still aches somewhat, and I find my knees weak, but with food in my stomach and a horse to carry me, I should be able to travel."

Gil stood and reached out to help Donal to his feet. Dropping arm about his shoulder, she instructed him to hold her about the waist, and in this clumsy fashion they both managed to remain standing. "Mrs. Grimes!" Gil called sharply. The door opened so quickly they knew she had likely been listening at the door.

Gil turned to face the old woman, her arm still firmly about Donal's shoulder. "We'll need to buy at least two horses, and would like as many as four. Also, is there an inn or something in this town where we can purchase food for our travels."

The old lady laughed. "I can lend ye two horses, but ye won't find more likely. I can't sell ye my horses because I need them to do my farmin'. As for food, if you go to th' general store a few miles down the road t'wards the forest y'might be able to get something."

Gil glanced at Donal. She sincerely doubted their chance to return the horses, and had little desire to cheat the woman out of her belongings. Before she could say no, however, Donal spoke.

"I thank you greatly, for your care of myself and for your kind offer to lend us your horses," Donal said, his voice charming and his smile disarming. "We shall be certain to return them as soon as possible."

The old lady nodded, then turned and headed slowly out the door. They could hear her yelling out the door to her sons in the field to bring the horses in. Gil turned to Donal, her eyes angry.

"*Why* did you say we'd take the horses?" she asked sharply. "You know we need them permanently, not on loan."

Donal shrugged. "'Tis my profession." He glanced up to catch Gil's glare. Sighing, he added, "I also thought we could leave the horse's at the general store she mentioned, and perhaps find out about others

there."

Gil's expression softened. "As long as we return the horses."

The old lady stepped back inside, motioning Gil and Donal forward. Standing outside were two heavy work horses, obviously born to pull a plow rather than for speed. Two large young men were unstrapping harnesses from the horses, but no saddles were in sight. Gil groaned inwardly. She had only learned to ride upon arriving in this world and still had not fully mastered the activity. Nor did she think Donal would be up to riding bareback. Stepping forward, she motioned for the second horse not to be unharnessed.

"I think we can make do with one horse for now, rather than leave you unable to do your work for the day," Gil said quickly. Mrs. Grimes smiled.

"I thank ye, miss, for that. Horse is a strong one and should be able t'carry ye both."

Gil nodded, and taking the reins from the hands of one of the men, climbed awkwardly up the side of the horse. Reaching a hand down, she helped Donal up before her. Glancing back once more at the three watching her, she said, "I thank you again for your kindness and aid for myself and my friend. We will return the horse as soon as possible."

Turning to face straight again, Gil urged to horse forward, happy when it responded to her feeble nudges with her feet. Donal leaned heavily back against her, unable to remain sitting up for long, as they rode towards the town.

Donal leaned back against Gil, his eyes closed, seeming almost asleep. He startled her when he spoke. "T'was good dealing with the blacksmith, Gil," he commented quietly.

"People have a lot of respect for magic," Gil explained. "Somehow they seem to think it takes a lot more effort than it usually does. So two magically lit lamps seem like a fortune to the average person."

Donal sat up slowly. "Four horses, a promise to return the one we were using, several skins of water, and provisions for the next week. As well as a change of clothes for myself. And all you had to do was make two lamps stay lit."

"True, but it took awhile, so there's where we lost out." Gil glanced up at the darkening sky. "It's getting dark and we haven't even reach the forest's edge yet."

"What makes you so sure we should go to the forest?"

Gil shrugged. "Instinct. Besides, I think we'll find Genna there, since she *is* by nature a forest creature. And Alec would look for her there." Sighing, she wished their little caravan of horses would move faster. "I think we should continue until we reach the forest, even if it gets dark."

Donal nodded. "T'will be safer to camp just within the edge than to find a place in these plains," he agreed. The howl of a hungry wolf split the air, and Gil shivered in response, instinctively trying to urge the horse faster.

"We should camp either in the trees or in a protected cave," Donal mused, "so that we have some defense against the wolves."

"I take it you're a regular nature boy, aren't you?" Gil said sarcastically, unwilling to think this city dweller could know what he meant.

Donal's voice was cool when he answered. "When you work in my profession, you learn what to do to survive." Gil was silent in response.

It was another hour before they reached the edge of the woods, and by that time it wsa dark and the howls had grown closer. Donal led the horses to a tree, tethering them on long ropes so they could defend themselves if need be, and then motioned for Gil to climb the tree.

"You want me to sleep in a tree?" she said sharply.

Donal nodded. "Unless you'd rather stay on the ground... with the wolves..." He let his voice trail off as he threw a length of rope over his shoulder and began climbing.

"But what if I fall?"

Donal grinned down at her. "What do you think the rope is for? I'll tie you securely. You won't fall and you won't be eaten by wolves. Sounds secure to me."

Gil swallowed, gathering her courage, then quickly climbed the tree after him. She bound herself about the waist to the trunk of the tree, and set another loop so she could hold it in her hands, watching as Donal did the same. The howls of the wolves could still be heard, but they didn't seem to move any closer, although Gil could occassionally hear the snap of a branch as something prowled nearby. At one point before she fell asleep she heard the horses moving restlessly and saw a dark shape pass near their tree. She let out her breath when nothing happened, and finally managed to relax enough to fall asleep.

To be continued...

Faerling is copyrighted by Deb Atwood.

Copies may be kept for personal use but may not be redistributed without the expression permission of the author.

Tryslora Eloran (deb_atwood@fac.com)