Slowing to a walk, the morning’s ride was gruelling, but no one dared complain. Dulling the senses, fatigue underpinned every ache. Yawns were frequent, the boys finding it difficult to stay awake.
Easing up only because their Kyboes were struggling, Kifter made sure the boys knew of his displeasure. Too much on his mind, this journey to Tarden was turning into a nightmare. Contending with adolescents was bad enough, but Nyshifters this far south was horrifying. Longing to reach Tarden, but even then, he could not gain solace; Brandor’s fury the reason.
A chill shivered through him. Recalling that terrifying moment when the Nyshifter had stared straight at him, paralysing, a great deal had it shared in that snapshot glimpse of its darkened world. Signs of things to come, the creature had made sure he knew it he was quite certain. Wondering why, his mood deepened.
Pulling in alongside, Hallen drew Kifter back from the internal abyss. “Troubled?”
Sighing, “Just... worn out,” the Fife said, their predicament preventing any clarity.
“You have pushed them hard today,” Hallen warned. Kifter’s advice in the past about releasing tensions by talking was nevermore needed than now. “Care to talk?”
Kifter felt like screaming. “I am not sure what it is,” he said, staring ahead, waiting for the next mishap. Burdened by recent failings, “Three times!” he said, disbelieving it.
“What do you mean…, three times?”
Glancing behind, the three boys were talking, oblivious to the Fife’s unrest. Lingering on Bane in particular, he knew why; targeting the boy for his own incompetence. “Three times I have failed Hanor.”
“I still do not follow,” Hallen said, disliking this.
“The Freeloaver,” Kifter began, cutting his companion short when about to protest. “You catching me out at Ag’s Ole, and… leaving Hanor outside last night. If that thing had returned!” he shrugged, signifying his mistake. “That is without taking into account that I cannot even choose who I journey with.”
Frowning at his friend’s self-mortification, “They are not failings,” Hallen said, needing to snap Kifter out of this. They had touched upon this problem in the past. “Your problem is... you are too critical. How many times I have told you to not take life too seriously? If you think these are failings… then there is no hope for me.”
“In my trade, errors are unacceptable,” Kifter said. “Getting caught out is failing Hanor.”
“Show me someone who does not make mistakes or would react differently if given the chance.”
“That is not the point.”
“It is. You set yourself standards no other can meet. Believe me, it is reassuring to know you are mortal. We all make mistakes, the important thing is to learn from them. Everybody knows that… except you.”
What his friend was saying made sense, but to accept failure raised questions about Kifter’s future effectiveness. Self-pity ravaged him like a fever, and just the thought of Bane seemed to tighten its grip. “This is ridiculous.”
“Look around,” Hallen said, trying a different direction. “Is this not why we are here, and why Brandor has been working so hard to unite the different races? You could not have done much with the Freeloaver or Nyshifter. As to me catching you out, that is child’s play, and you know it.” He checked behind. “As to Nole and Bane…, just accept they are not your responsibility. They have made a decision to stay loyal to Hanor, so respect that. It should be admired rather than rejected because of the inconvenience.”
“Have you finished?” Kifter said, his companion making headway into his gloom. Checking behind, three young men stopped talking, expecting a sharp word. ‘They are the future of these lands,’ he thought, feeling mildly better. If he did not adjust, the remaining turns to Tarden were going to be awkward.
“What was that look for?” whispered Bane to the other two, suspicious.
“Your choice of travelling companion could be better,” Nole said to Hanor, agreeing with Bane.
Finding it increasingly difficult to defend the Fife, Hanor expected his guide to be angry with him more than anyone else. “Perhaps he has more on his mind than we know.”
“That does not excuse his conduct,” Nole said.
“Are you not irritable when faced with trials, you especially Bane?”
“This is different, he does not like me.”
“You have hardly been warm to him yourself Bane, have you?” Nole said.
“I do not have a problem, I am just protecting Hanor.”
“But that is why he is here,” Hanor reminded them.
“I know that, but he does not understand how close we all are.”
“He is right,” agreed Nole. “Look at us.”
Being together was all they knew. “I know,” Hanor acknowledged. “But try to see it from his side. You two were not part of the plan, and neither was the Freeloaver or Nyshifter. Perhaps we should be more tolerant of him, and trust he has our interests at heart. Do you expect him to leave you two behind if danger arises?”
Nole and Bane did not need to answer.
As frustrating as they were sometimes, Hanor had to admit how good it felt to have them here. “He is a sincere, just try to see past his responsibilities.”
“So was my pet Gombol until it bit my finger,” Bane shot, a stern look from his friend forcing an apology. “Sorry. I know… and yes, I will try.”
Anticipating Hallen’s wink of approval, Kifter’s annoyance eased after listening to the boys’ exchange. Realising the three boys were trying to get to grips with this as much as he was, they certainly deserved better from him. Last night’s episode proved where their true enemy was. Encouraged by Hanor’s maturity, he was beginning to see the potential Brandor spoke of.
Pockets of sunshine broke through the fine film of cloud as the turn waned towards evening. Digging deep, their mounts needed rest just as much as their riders did. Picking out a clump of trees on a hilltop, Kifter decided to call an early end to their exertive day. Camping on the south side to watch the sunset, for now, they could forget their troubles and the coming of night with its strands of fear.
Leaving the Fink he had caught roasting on a spit, Kifter joined the others. Deep reds and purples lined the sky to the horizon, the distant terrain changing to match the more rocky regions of the south.
“This is an age away from last night,” Nole said, savouring the final rays of sunlight.
“It is,” Hallen agreed, the desire for sleep strong.
“Why would someone want to destroy all of this?” Bane asked.
“That is a question many may ask over the coming turns,” Hallen said. “Perhaps our dear leader will shed some light on it.”
Pulled away from the soothing sun, Kifter sighed. “Revenge.”
“Revenge?”
“And power.”
“Is that why Nyshifters are here? What can we do against them anyway?” Bane asked, feeling vulnerable now they were out in the open.
“What would you do?” Kifter’s question was direct.
Fearing the old Fifanian attitude was returning, “I do not know,” he said, casting a doubtful glare his way.
“What did you do last night?”
Refusing to get drawn into anything explosive, Bane did not answer.
“I am not challenging you Bane,” Kifter assured him. “Answer me, what did you do?”
“I… hid… behind the tree, like most people.”
“Even though I was tempted to hide, through a sense of duty to protect, I faced it, as did Hallen and others. But if truth be known, I do not know what we could have done.”
Surprised at the admittance, Bane let him finish to make his point.
“We often think we will react far better than what reality dictates. In tight situations like last night, one has to rely on skill and experience most of all. Living a changeable life on the road has its benefits, for you develop an underlying readiness for the unknown. This minimises the risk of shock.”
“That still does not sound reassuring for Hanor,” Nole said, anxious. “That is why we came. Numbers will help in times of trouble.”
“But that is my point, Nole,” Kifter said. The night was closing in fast, the aroma of cooked meat filtering across. “I asked Bane what he would do, and he admitted he did not know. Indecision can distract others who are willing to act, enough to get everyone killed. I say this not to cause strife, but as a factor both of you should consider. It is admirable what you are doing but… will it aid or hinder?”
A different perspective not considered before, it seemed to undermine their efforts. Detecting nothing devious in his tone, it supported Hanor’s suggestion earlier that the Fife had burdens they were unaware of.
“Fear does not always render a person incapable,” Hanor said. Hardly talking from experience, but he sensed bravery rose from an individual’s character rather than how skilful they were.
“True enough,” Kifter agreed. “And I hope that if other dangers arrive, our two young friends here will prove you right.”
“So…, have you made this point to knock our confidence?” Bane asked, sceptical.
“Quite the opposite,” he said. “If you are to be part of this group, you have to accept your responsibilities. Complacency is a killer. You would not want to be a burden now would you? Tomorrow, I will give you exercises to sharpen you up. You know I would prefer you to be at home, but whilst here, we might as well be productive. Are you willing to undergo some training?”
“What… kind of training?” Bane dared, somewhat chary.
“Nothing strenuous.”
Convinced the Fife was seeking trouble, Bane glanced at Nole for support.
“It does make sense what you say,” Nole said, being practical.
“Good. Now, I believe our meal is ready,” the Fife said, making his way back to the fire.
Three boys speculated if they would be foolish to take up the challenge.
“I have been informed you are heir to the High-house of Manson?” Hallen posed, the group taking a breather the following turn. Riding for most of the morning at the rear for added protection, the big Hite wanted to know more about his young companions.
“That is true, but regrettable,” Hanor replied, trying to stay humble.
“Regrettable!” The Hite was shocked. “Is that not a privilege?”
“To some perhaps,” Hanor reasoned. “But I am not suited to it.” Even with his brother and Bane listening, since coming on this journey, the way he looked at life had changed for the better. Why should he be privileged at other people’s expense?
“Would you exchange with me then?” Hallen joked.
“I would gladly do so,” Hanor said, the Hite’s size exaggerated by the height of his Kyboe. “But that would mean switching mounts, and I would not condemn my poor ride to such torment.”
“You have been around our mischievous Fife for too long,” Hallen laughed.
Resting by a solitary tree, the sun remained veiled behind a thick blanket of cloud, keeping it cool.
“You mentioned about some training?” Bane reminded Kifter whilst eating a quaner.
Leaning on his elbows, “I did,” the Fife said, thankful for the interest at last. “I have been waiting for you to ask all morning.” Disappointed, they had failed their first lesson. “You have to be hungry if you want to learn. This is what I was talking about last night. If done half-heartedly, you will fall at the first sign of trouble.”
“We are sorry,” Nole apologised for all of them.
“It did cross my mind,” Bane said. “But I was not sure if you still wanted to teach us.”
Before Kifter could respond, Hanor interjected. “Caution is understandable considering how sensitive some of us have been of late.”
“Doomed if they do and doomed if they do not,” Hallen said, supporting his defence.
“A sensible point,” the Fife conceded. “Nevertheless, my position remains the same. You should be thirsty to learn whilst we are able.”
“We see that now,” Bane said.
“Good.”
“So what is it you would have us do?”
Kifter sat up and looked around. “You see those Fliryns?” He pointed to a flurry of them over by a tree on the next hilltop. The three nodded. “How many are there?”
Counting and recounting, the Fife gave no hint, finding their efforts amusing. Frustrations emerging, the task could only be guessed at.
“Twenty five,” Bane offered.
“Are you sure?”
“Twenty three,” Nole tried.
“And you?” Kifter said, turning to Hanor.
Hanor shrugged. “They are moving too quickly to count.”
“A good answer.”
The other two were stunned.
“What do you mean, a good answer? He did not even say a number,” Bane protested.
“Did you count them or did you end up guessing?”
Bane’s annoyance turned to embarrassment. “Well I… think I counted twenty five.”
“You think?”
“It is hard to tell.”
“But a guess is a guess, is it not?”
“I suppose.”
“But I did not say guess, I asked how many were there.”
“You did,” Nole conceded.
“So what is the point of this?” Bane felt cheated.
“You tell me what the point is,” the Fife challenged, getting ready to leave.
Nole and Bane’s puzzlement mirrored Hanor’s.
“Do we have an answer?” Kifter asked, a touch of mirth present.
“No.”
“I thought as much,” the Fife said, far from impressed. “A quick eye takes skill and a sharpness of intent. You cannot do the impossible unless your whole self is involved.”
“Do you mean passionate?” Hanor tried.
“It goes deeper than that.” Climbing into his saddle, the Fife motioned for them to do the same. “You need to tune your mind so it becomes one with the object.”
“I am good at that,” Hallen kidded. “Even though some ladies are not so obliging.”
“It is difficult to do,” Kifter said, ignoring his loose friend. “And takes a keen eye and sensitive mind to work.” They had a long way to go. “Remember, do not to say anything unless you know it is a fact. Your mind will fill in the gaps if you are not careful, and you may end up sounding foolish.” Unsurprised by their frowns, “So…, the task for the remainder of the turn is to sharpen your soft minds. Believe me, it comes in handy when facing uncertainties.”
“Sounds reasonable,” Nole agreed.
“It takes a great deal of practice, so be warned.”
“So how many Fliryns are there?” Bane asked, doubting it could be proven anyway.
“Nineteen.”
“Are you sure?” Bane checked. Recounting, quick movements did seem to enlarge their numbers.
“Let us go,” Kifter said, expecting the reaction
A herd of Mallen stood on the crest of a rocky hilltop watching them pass. Undulations were prominent in these parts, the young men practicing what the Fife had taught them earlier. Difficult to focus on anything whilst riding, it generated unforeseen problems.
“My eyes ache,” Nole declared, after suffering long periods of focal exercises. “I am no good at this.”
Hallen rode beside him. “I tried and did not last long either,” he confessed, indicating Kifter at the front. “Unlike him.”
“How does he do it?”
“With time and practice, you become immune to it. This is what he does best.”
They could only watch and try to learn. Eventually admitting defeat after a demanding short-turn of concentration, the mental exercises were left to the keen hearted. Passing through a rocky region, a few tight gaps and sharp climbs were difficult but manageable. Thankful when returning to greener pastures, Kifter pulled them up just before sundown, their Kyboes again feeling the strain.
“See, he is not too bad,” Hallen toyed, pulling up beside Bane.
Shrugging, Bane wanted to believe the Fife now accepted their inclusion, but could not help but look for the next sharp word.