Chapter 33 Lukas
33
Lukas
So far they’d been lucky with the weather. But he knew that particular luck was about to run out. A man didn’t spend season after season on the land without learning the signs. First the wind would get up, a tricky gust here, a sudden chill there, the grasses in uneasy motion. Then gradually it would build, until the trees were shuddering and debris was blowing about and the animals were unsettled. And if a person didn’t act soon enough, both he and his stock would be caught in the rain and he’d be bringing them to the sheltered yards in a downpour, his boots thick with mud. In the worst storms, branches would drop without warning, and too bad for man or beast caught underneath. The rain would come in sudden bursts, as if determined to fall when folk were least ready for it. And then the sheeting, relentless wet, and soil being washed away, and rivers breaking their banks, and not much to be done but huddle in whatever shelter could be found and wait for it to be over.
A farmer learned how to handle it. How to keep the stock safe and dry, or dryish; how to tell when a big storm was on the way and make preparations. Not that you could ever be quite sure a shed roof was not going to take flight or a bridge collapse under the flood, but in Heartwood they were good at protecting their property, animals included. They helped one another. They shared space in barns and outbuildings, made sure workers were fed, built barriers or cleared debris as needed.
Storms could do a lot of damage, cause a lot of heartbreak. But they brought everyone together. Stasya had always preferred to be on her own, to live in her own little house – the old folk called it the Storyteller’s Cottage – and to take charge of her own life. To be silent or to speak at a time of her own choosing. But when storms came, she’d be out there with the rest of them, working to keep folk safe.
The coming of the Commander and his troop was, Lukas thought, a bit like a storm. Not a spring storm, though. It was more like the kind that came when autumn was turning toward winter: hard, chill, fierce. A man could make up a story about that. It might contain an evil dragon, not the fiery kind, but a creature whose breath could freeze a hapless goat, or man, in his tracks. Not that he was in any mood to tell such a tale, or indeed any tale at all. The climb was beginning to feel endless. Many days had passed since they entered the forest. Nobody really knew how far away the Hermit was; there was nobody alive who had made that journey and come back to tell of it. Growing up, Lukas had heard the stories, not only those Stasya told, but others that were full of monsters and malign spirits, tales in which folk set out to discover the secrets of the mountain and were never seen again, or returned with their wits so scrambled that they could never take up their old lives again. He had to hope those were pure fancy. But hadn’t Stasya once said that every old story had some truth in it? That even the strangest had begun, long ago, with some real happening? On this journey, with Flip turning from dog to bird and back again when it suited her, and Stasya hearing imaginary noises and talking to plants as if they were people, that was not at all difficult to believe.
Exactly why Aleksis was so determined to reach the Hermit, the man had refused to explain. It was beyond belief that the rest of them were prepared to follow his lead. Even Stasya was going along with it. What if the Ruler’s adviser was leading them into some kind of trap? Aleksis’s three men were all fighters, strong, able and well armed. There’d be no escaping them if things turned ugly. Once there might have been a slim chance, if luck had been on their side. At least he and Stasya knew how to disappear into the forest and, up to a point, how to survive there. But not now. Lukas was weary to the core, his body aching, his heart sick. Over and over, his mind showed him images of home and his loved ones suffering under the Commander’s rule. He was finding the climb hard going. After Stasya had told Aleksis what she’d seen at Clearwater, the man had really been pushing the pace. Lukas had tried to hide how much everything hurt. He’d done his best to keep up and to help with the business of setting up and striking camp each day. He thought Stasya could see through his pretence, and he suspected Karolis did too. He’d made checking Lukas’s burns a nightly routine, along with making the rest of them do stretching exercises and confirming that everyone was all right to go on. A few times Karolis had gathered herbs, then prepared a makeshift poultice for the burn that was proving the slowest to heal, the one on Lukas’s side. The man spoke light-heartedly, making a joke of things. But the look on his face told a different story. Lukas did not ask him for an opinion. Out in the forest, miles from any sort of help, he thought he would rather not know if the wound was failing to heal as it should. There was little anyone could do about it anyway, and his mind was already burdened. His father, his mother, his sisters … At least Pavel’s brave trip back to the settlement had lightened that load. It had warmed his heart to learn that his father was alive and doing well. He’d made sure to thank Pavel for the welcome news, scant though it had been. Pavel had responded with a quick smile. He was growing quieter as the journey went on. Perhaps he shared Lukas’s doubts about the venture.
There was bad weather coming now. All the signs were there. Aleksis called a halt as the clouds thickened and the air cooled. They were emerging from a tract of dense pine forest onto open rocky ground. From here, it was possible to see a fair way ahead.
‘There could be caves up there,’ Stasya said. She stood perfectly relaxed, arms folded, gazing ahead to the next forested area and beyond. The ground continued to rise, but the slope was gentler than before, the way perhaps less challenging. And yes, she was right as usual. He thought he could see, if not a cave, at least a place where a rocky outcrop might provide a more sheltered camping spot. But it was only midday.
Lukas made himself speak out. ‘Bad storm on the way. We should get up there and find shelter.’ He glanced up at the sky. ‘Might be wiser to hunker down until the worst of it’s over.’ Indeed, it would be selfish, stupid and risky if Aleksis made them go on, but he did not say that. ‘Good opportunity to tell a few stories.’
There was a sudden silence. All of them looked at him as if he’d come out with something remarkable. Maybe they were surprised that he’d spoken at all.
‘He’s right,’ said Stasya. ‘We’ve made good time this morning. It would be wise to get under cover and wait until the storm has passed.’ She glanced at Aleksis. ‘That would probably mean not going on until tomorrow.’
‘Mmm.’ Aleksis was narrowing his eyes, looking up beyond the next band of pines. ‘The terrain may not be so steep over there. But the forest is just as dense, if not more so; it’ll still be slow going. We’ll investigate that area, see if there are caves.’
‘Go carefully over this next bit,’ Stasya said. ‘It may look easier, but it’s tricky. We don’t want any twisted ankles or broken wrists.’
Speaking as if she, too, were a leader, Lukas thought. As if she and Aleksis were a team. The man wanted something from her, he was sure of it. And she … she was different now. Changed. Aleksis was changing her. Or maybe, he considered as the group moved on over the rocks, it was being taken away from home, from her safe place, that was making her different. The old Stasya would never have been comfortable in the constant company of relative strangers, living at close quarters, expected to make conversation. The old Stasya had done her work and helped whoever needed help with scant need for words to be spoken. She had talked with her trusted few; she had found Flip sufficient company most of the time; she had retreated to her cottage or into the forest as often as she could, as if the outside world simply did not suit her. And he had been her friend; the one friend whose company she’d always welcomed.
His feelings on the matter confused and troubled him. It would be different if Aleksis had made it clear why they were on this mad venture and what he hoped to gain from it, he thought as he picked his way over the rocky ground. The fact that the man was keeping his motives secret suggested all was not right. Why the pressing need to keep going, to cover more ground, to exhaust everyone in the group? Didn’t that suggest that Aleksis was simply carrying out the Ruler’s orders independent of the Commander and his men? All that talk about being followed might be lies told to reassure them that Aleksis was not still the Ruler’s loyal man. He was taking Stasya because she could find the way, and as for Lukas himself, he was no more than excess baggage, dragged along because Stasya had probably refused to leave without him. Refused to cooperate if he was hurt any further. He remembered, sharply, that he had been less than a day away from being flogged to death. The uncomfortable fact was, he owed Aleksis his life.
He stumbled; nearly fell. Matiss, who was close by, reached out to help him balance. ‘Careful,’ the big man said quietly. ‘All right now?’
‘Fine.’ It sounded curt. Unmannerly. ‘Thanks.’
‘I think we could all do with a rest,’ Matiss said. ‘I’d give a lot for a good night’s sleep, not to speak of a chance to wash my smelly clothing. But with rain coming there’s no hope of getting things dry.’
‘Might set some traps,’ said Karolis, coming up behind. ‘Rations won’t last forever. Not sure what might be out and about in this sort of terrain.’
‘Bears,’ suggested Matiss.
‘Not quite what I had in mind, my friend. A marten or two would be more like it. Not that there’s much meat on them, but it’d still be welcome.’
Karolis had a fishing line as well as the wherewithal for traps. In one or two of the lakes they’d passed, he’d had some luck and they had enjoyed a sustaining meal. But they’d need to hunt and trap more as they went; the supplies they’d carried were already running low. Lukas wondered how Stasya would cope with the killing. She’d never really explained how it was for her, but he knew she could feel the suffering of creatures nearby, almost as if she herself were being hurt. She wouldn’t be wanting to tell Aleksis about that. Their fledgeling friendship surely wasn’t strong enough.