home

search

Chapter Seven: The Cover Story

  Marley, who had been lying under the table when we came in, rose now and sat near my feet. It was as if she understood that we had decided to go on the journey.

  “Will we bring her?” Freydis asked.

  “Afraid not,” I said. “I’m sure we’d be glad to have her along at times, but at others she would give us away. She’d also probably try too hard to defend me, defend us. She’d likely attack some creatures we’d be better off avoiding.”

  “We’re going to need,” Freydis said, “a cover story. No matter how careful we are, we’re bound to run into others. It won’t do for us to tell them what we’re really up to. And no one will believe that you travel that far away from town to gather mushrooms.”

  “Scoping out the land, for farming or for herding, would be one excuse,” I said, “but we’ll be too far away for that, too.”

  “What does one find up north in the high hills?” Caiside said. “How about pikas? Or hyraxes?”

  “What are those?” I asked.

  “High altitude animals. Very cute little ones.”

  “Mmm,” I said. “I don’t think many people would believe that you’re trekking up to the mountains on one leg just to see a glorified rabbit, or whatever they are.”

  “We could say that we heard of an albino one. Mystical, portentous white hyrax of the high hills, that sort of thing.”

  “Even so.”

  “Perhaps we saw a meteor fall, to the north,” Freydis said. “We would say we are sure it struck the ground some place not far from what is actually the hiding spot. And we’re journeying to seek harmonic cosmic rock fragments from the divine heavens, and so on.”

  “Maybe,” I said. “Although others would think they would have seen it too, if we did.”

  “And such stones are valued by many,” Caiside said. “Such a story might set off a rush by other creatures. Which would not be a bad thing, in terms of being a distraction from our true path; but some would certainly follow us if they saw us break off. If we said we were trying to trap a pika, on the other hand, no one would likely bother following us for that.”

  “Imagine if we actually do have to act out one of these cover stories,” I said. “Pretending to comb the hills for blackened rocks, or terrified pikas, or whatever it is, while some clan of giants look over our shoulders.”

  “How about a roc?” Caiside said. “We say a roc carried off a small child from this town, and we are going to rescue him.”

  Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

  “Anyone who knows us would expect a much larger search party than just three people, if that were to happen in Enkel Kanindal,” Freydis said. “Think of it. Half the town would climb up there. Maybe we could pretend to be from somewhere where they – don’t care about their children.”

  “We could say that we are going to see a healer,” Caiside said. “A reclusive healer who can – cure my ill. My lost leg.”

  “That would be quite a medicine man, to grow a leg back,” I said. “I’m not sure anyone would believe that.”

  “Well then, how about visiting a wise man who lives up in the mountains. Or a wise woman. You hear of such people, sharing knowledge with pilgrims, that sort of thing. Living in a cave, or a stone lodge. Drawing sustenance from goat milk. Keeping warm with bits of firewood brought up by supplicants.”

  Freydis didn’t respond to this, at first, but then she started nodding, slowly.

  “That’s not bad,” she said. “That’s not bad at all. A sagacious hermit, up in the hills. That’s harmless, and believable. And we would be – eager young people searching for answers.”

  “Thank you for that,” Caiside said.

  “What sort of wisdom,” I asked, “would she share?”

  Caiside answered:

  “Oh, something like – ”

  Recipes for snake balm if you need an antidote;

  tricks for getting mountain trolls to let go of your throat.

  Sound advice for when to make a journey or stay home;

  how to find your way out if trapped in a catacomb.

  Ways to make your rye cakes bake all through but yet stay soft;

  how to banish possums which have nested in your croft.

  Words to win the heart of someone dashing whom you fancy;

  how to call your grandpa if you’re into necromancy.

  How to find an armorer who makes a good ball flail;

  how to send a message to a smuggler stuck in jail.

  Ways to fall asleep when you are worried ‘bout the morn;

  how to stop the crying of a colicky newborn.

  Which wild roots are safe to eat when you’re at risk of starving;

  how to read a sigil you encounter in a carving.

  How to rescue someone if you see him start to choke;

  tips to start a conversation with a pleasant joke.

  “So, things like that,” she finished.

  “This hypothetical wise woman is quite – well-rounded,” Freydis said.

  “Indeed.”

  Frédéric Dulude-de Broin, CC BY-SA 4.0 , via Wikimedia Commons

  Hyrax: gailhampshire from Cradley, Malvern, U.K, CC BY 2.0 , via Wikimedia Commons

Recommended Popular Novels