Crispin_ At the Edge of the World - Avi [42]
“I’ll go with Crispin,” said Troth.
“Keep safe,” muttered Bear, who had laid himself out on his back, face to sun, arms spread wide.
Troth and I waited. It took only moments before Bear fell asleep. Without another word, Troth and I turned and started across the fields.
I found pleasure in striding over ground that did not move, pushing through grass almost as tall as Troth. The grass was wonderfully sweet to smell and, here and there, yellow flowers rose as if to remind us we had returned to a more loving earth. With the sun’s golden glow beating on our faces, it almost seemed a paradise. When I thought of where we had been, no contrast could have been greater. Rejoicing, I breathed deeply, and allowed myself to give thanks to God for His mercy.
As we went further, I glanced back in the direction from where we’d come. To my surprise the ocean seemed to have vanished—as if it didn’t exist. I had to remind myself that it was merely below the cliff. I didn’t see Bear either.
A touch from Troth brought me out of my prayerful musings.
“Crispin,” she said, looking up at me with her solemn eyes.
“What?”
“On the ship—during the storm—I thought we were going to die.”
I stopped walking. “I thought so, too,” I said.
“It was Bear,” she said, “who saved us.”
“I know.”
She looked back where he was. “But,” she whispered, “it exhausted him.”
“If we care for him,” I said, “he’ll regain his strength.”
She hesitated before saying, “I’m not so sure.”
“I promise you he will!” The words came out angrily.
She turned and went on silently. I ran after her and we went on toward the trees, neither of us speaking. It was as if we had quarreled.
As I drew closer to the trees, I could see that they were not very tall, and were twisted into bizarre shapes. It was as if winds and storms coming off the sea had shaped them.
We were perhaps twenty yards from them when I suddenly halted. “Look there!” I cried, pointing up. “Birds.”
Black birds were flying over the trees in a circular movement.
“What about them?” asked Troth.
“They’re fleeing something. Bear taught me to look for that.”
“It could be an animal.”
“Or a person.” I looked back. With Bear sleeping on the ground, there was no sign of him. Knowing how tired he was, I had no wish to disturb him—less so if there was nothing to relate. “We’d best first find what it is,” I said.
Cautious about going directly to where the birds flew, I led the way to one side. In moments, we were among the trees, where it was easy to be concealed. Once there I changed our direction, going where I thought the birds had flown. We moved from tree to tree quietly. Then—unmistakably—we heard the whinny of a horse.
We halted. From Troth’s look, I knew she had heard it, too.
“Where did it come from?” I whispered.
“There,” she said, and crept forward silently, somewhat crouched, head turned slightly to catch any sounds—the image of Aude. Suddenly she stood, extended one arm, and whispered, “There!”
I looked. There were three horses.
They were powerful beasts, destriers, the kind of horses used by soldiers. Tethered, they were at their ease, eating grass. All had leather harnesses without any decorations, reins over necks, bits in their mouths. There were three saddles stacked on a stump, one atop the other. The saddles had high seats that allowed a rider to ride standing. There were protective pommels too.
Troth looked to me as if I could provide some explanation.
“Soldiers’horses,” I whispered.
I sniffed, sensing a faint smell of roasting meat.
We stood in place, searching for the people we knew must be near. Farther in among the trees I noticed a two-wheeled cart, and not far from it, an ox.
Suddenly, Troth began to move.
“Troth!” I called. “Don’t!”
Ignoring me, she went on. I thought to hold her back, but then I recalled the time when I first saw her in the woods: she had been as silent as any spirit—all but invisible. Still, I watched her go with sudden trepidation. How hard, I thought, if something