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When she felt the heat of the day beating down on the back of her neck, Allabva was struck with sleepiness. The truncated sleep of her last night at home was followed by the cold, interrupted dreams of last night, and it was taking its toll. As if on cue, Hronomon showed up again, stepping out of the tall grass and onto the trail.
“Hronomon, I think it’s my sleep time,” Allabva drawled. “I’m certainly feeling the need for it.”
“Yes, I thought it was probably about that time. Let’s find you a safe spot.”
Hronomon led her off the trail and, in the middle of tall grasses, he lay and rolled to flatten the patch. Nobody could see it from the road, and there would be no reason to go looking for it. Allabva stretched out, using her bag as a pillow. She set the walking stick aside and wrapped herself in her cloak, similar to last night’s accommodations. She was asleep before she realized it.
Allabva was awoken…
…by the sound of human voices talking and a gentle nudge at her shoulder. The sun was gone in the west, though its light still shone in the sky.
“Good evening,” Fiewren smiled down at her.
“How…” Allabva managed to say, quickly sitting up and trying to blink the sleep away. She grabbed her bag and stick, standing.
“We followed a Nomord here!” One of the young boys supplied eagerly.
Allabva looked back, agape.
“It didn’t say anything,” Fiewren explained. “It wandered up and looked at us curiously. It kept wandering off and then back to the road until it left the road only a little and waited for us to follow. Bit by bit, it brought us here. Apparently, it found you and was concerned for you. Are you alright?”
Allabva blinked again, then squinted at Fiewren. She wondered about Hronomon’s motives if he had brought them here. “I guess so. Was there anything else noticeable about this Nomord that led you to me?”
“No, that’s about it. Odd behavior, I’d say.”
“Are you sure you’re alright?” Banduchy said. “Why were you sleeping during the day? Are you ill?”
“No, I’m not ill. It’s just that I set out traveling light. Turns out I wasn’t prepared for the chill of the night, so I decided to keep myself warm at night by walking, and that way the sun can warm me while I sleep.” She didn’t mention that it was also supposed to decrease the likelihood of encountering strangers on the road.
“Alright. I can respect that. I’m sorry we woke you, but it seemed the correct thing because of how that Nomord brought us here.”
“That is fine. I needed to get up sometime, didn’t I? Waking me up now will probably help me swap day for night a little faster. Anyway, I suppose I’ll be going on my way.” Allabva placed her bag over her head and shoulder and held her walking stick in one hand.
“Wait,” Fiewren said. “We were going to camp soon for the night. Won’t you join us around a warm fire and wedding leftovers?”
“I need to hit the road.”
“Please, I insist. Banduchy told you there was too much food; some of it will spoil before we reach home.”
Allabva was hungry. If she shared some of their food, then her trail provisions would last her that much longer. If Hronomon objected to this, then he could make himself known to her to let her know. They seemed like good people, and after finding her asleep and helpless, all they did was wake her up and offer to share their food with her.
“Very well. I’m in, as long as it doesn’t take too much time away from my journey.”
“You really do want to hit the road, don’t you? What’s your name?” Fiewren awaited an answer with kind eyes, too kind to lie to.
“Allabva.” She was under no obligation to provide that much, let alone any more. She still felt bad holding back.
“Well, come on. Let’s find a good spot for a fire. We can’t do it here in the middle of this grass. This spot is too dry despite the spring rains. We’ll move out onto the road and find a spot from there.”
Allabva joined them in their walk back to the road. They continued east for a few minutes before finding a spot that appeared to have been used for campfires before, as it was cleared of vegetation in a ring surrounding what looked to be a pile of ash. There were even a couple of large rocks to the side of it, ready to be reused as stools.
The other boy, not Amarkal, was currently dragging the cart behind him. He pulled it into the circle and set down the handle of the cart, lowering it slowly while at the same time catching anything that threatened to fall off the cart as he tipped it down.
Banduchy reached the cart and unloaded a leather case, from which he extracted a hatchet. “We knew we would camp on our way to Littonwelt and back, but Amarkal’s cart does make it easier to carry supplies. I was going to bring this hatchet anyway, but I didn’t anticipate bringing back so much food. Amarkal, Ambinos, go and find some wood, will you?”
The two boys didn’t have to be told twice to go forage if it was going to produce a campfire. As they wandered off to find some trees that may have dropped limbs, Banduchy took a few more items from the leather case and started roughing up some tree bark to use as kindling.
“I hope you like the spread,” Fiewren told Allabva, proceeding to remove several small bundles from the cart, unwrapping them and placing some sausages and cheese in a frying pan. “It’s not as fresh as it was at the reception, of course, but some of it should liven up with a bit of heat.”
“Sounds good to me,” Allabva smiled. “The only supplies I brought with me were selected because they’ll last several days on the road, not because they were delicious to begin with. I’m sure wedding fare will be different, no matter what you brought.”
“It’s the least we can do for a lone traveler.” Fiewren blinked and looked at Allabva. “One second. You said you weren’t alone. Where is your companion? You were napping alone, just like you were walking alone.”
Allabva opened her mouth to say she wasn’t certain where her companion was, but Fiewren didn’t give her a chance to speak.
“You know what? You never mind that. I won’t pry into that. If you’re giving us a line you prepared beforehand in order to make people think you’re not defenseless, I will let you hold to your story. If it’s true, then I’m not going to make any judgments about your escort just because he likes to stay out of sight of strangers. Just, do please be careful on the road. You never know who you’ll meet with.”
“I—thank you.” Allabva felt validated that these were good people that she had fallen in with.
“I will, naturally, invite you to camp with us, and to travel with us as far as our routes coincide. You’ll be safer with us than you would alone, or even with only a solitary escort.”
“I’ll second that,” Banduchy added. “If you need anyone to travel with, here we are.”
“I appreciate the offer, and I’ll remember you for it,” Allabva said. “But I’m guessing your boys won’t travel as quickly as I need to, especially if they’re pulling that cart. I have a little brother not too much younger than they are, so I know how it is.”
“Yeah,” Banduchy commiserated. “They get distracted and stop to look at a beetle or a rock they say is interesting even though it’s a normal, boring rock. They decide they’re tired one moment, even though the next moment you mention something they want to do and suddenly they found their energy again. They decide they’re too hot to go as fast as you’re going, even if you’re the one pulling the cart and they just had water. Need I go on?”
Allabva laughed out loud. “Yes, that’s pretty much my brother to a tee.”
“No, come back,” one of the boys whined as they approached the fire ring. “Mama, Amarkal took my stick.”
“No, I didn’t,” Amarkal rebutted. “I picked it up.”
“But I saw it first, and I already wanted to pick it up when you saw it.”
Fiewren rolled her eyes. “Banduchy, I was going to chide you for speaking negatively about them in front of Allabva, but I think they just exposed themselves. Ambinos, does it really matter? It’s just a stick. Aren’t we going to burn it, anyway?”
“Well, but I want to burn it. And I want to cook with it first. I want to whittle the point down and roast sausages over the fire with it.”
“No, I want to,” Amarkal butted in.
“I was talking to your brother.”
As Fiewren handled the disagreement, Allabva felt a smile tugging at one side of her mouth. This was familiar. Good people had sides of themselves that they would rather not put on display in front of the world, but it was part of being human. People tried to figure the world out throughout their lives, and the way she saw this family playing it out reminded her that she was on a journey to ensure that life like this could keep happening. People learn. People grow. Allabva promised herself that this would continue.
A stick. “Thank you, Amarkal, and thank you, Ambinos,” Allabva butted in.
“For what?” Amarkal said.
“You reminded me that I have my own stick sitting in my lap. It’s not a fire stick, but you reminded me that I wanted to whittle it down, too.” She looked at her walking stick, with its extra length beyond a marked bend in the wood, pulling her knife out of her bag. She continued her pitch to the boys.
“I’ll tell you what, Ambinos. Would you like this piece? It traveled a day and a half to be united with you. I’ll cut my walking stick here—” she notched the stick at the point where it bent, “—and you can have the rest for your fire stick. Then, do you think your brother can keep the stick he’s holding right now?”
“Alright,” Ambinos said, somewhat begrudgingly. Amarkal said nothing, but appeared placated.
Allabva used her knife to divide the stick where it bent, leaving her with a relatively straight staff to walk with. She handed the remainder to the boy, and he set to whittling one end of it to a fine point so he could stab sausages and other morsels with it.
By the time Banduchy had a fire going, Fiewren had sliced food into the frying pan and promptly set about heating it up as a stir-fry. While she did that, Banduchy produced some different types of bread. “Here we have some garlic-Littonish bread. The Littonish cheese was aged two years, then grated just before sprinkling on top of the dough. And some thyme-sage-rosemary sourdough. Some oregano-basil knots. We’ll combine that one with a bit of smoked salmon.”
Allabva was taken aback. “This meal sounds and smells too good. What can I do for you for your kindness?”
“Nothing,” Fiewren refused flatly. “I already told you, some of this wouldn’t even make it home with us before going bad. What can you do for us? Just enjoy it and stay safe out there.”
Extracting the promise from Ambinos and Amarkal to stop sword fighting during dinner for the rest of their journey, Fiewren unpacked dessert for all five of them. They enjoyed their honey cakes with butter while the family got sleepy in the darkening evening.
“What music were you playing earlier?” Amarkal cut Allabva off guard with his sudden question.
“What?”
“What music was it? I didn’t hear it clearly because you were far away. It sounded like a flute.”
“Oh, you mean what I was playing on the road? I don’t know what the song is called. I heard it from a friend.”
“But where is your flute?”
“It’s right here.” Allabva grabbed the chain and pulled the flute out from its hiding place.
“Can you play for us?”
“Ammie, you can’t just ask her to put on a performance for us,” Fiewren corrected him.
“No, it’s alright. If it will make him happy, then I’ll be glad to. You’ve been kind to me. Although I must admit, I only started trying to figure out how to play this tune this morning. I’m not any good.” Allabva felt self-conscious, but she thought perhaps it might help his mother by getting him in the mood for bed.
“Yay!” Amarkal revelled.
Allabva put the flute to her lips, set her hands over the tone holes to produce the first note, and did her best not to disappoint. Her playing was halting because she did not immediately remember all the fingerings in order in the tune, but she thought she was still able to produce an overall pleasant sound.
“Mama, you know this song,”Ambinos said.
Allabva’s eyebrows rose with delight, and she stopped playing. “You do? Do you know what it’s called? I have only ever heard it on this flute.”
Fiewren smiled ruefully at Ambinos. “Yes, I do. It’s called ‘In the Cool Shade of the Mount.’ I’ll tell you what, boys. I’ll sing it for you once, and then it’s time for bed. Allabva, I’ll reiterate that you’re welcome to travel with us, although I’ll admit we can’t easily solve your problem of the chill at night because we don’t have a spare bedroll for you to use. It’s up to you.”
Banduchy was untying the family’s bedrolls from the cart while Fiewren cleaned up after dinner.
“Well, boys, will I have your cooperation?”
“Yes, Mother,” Amarkal and Ambinos said.
Fiewren took some deep breaths, stretching her shoulders, then inhaled one more time and started to sing. Banduchy stopped what he was doing to listen. Apparently, Fiewren was known for being a good singer. Allabva prepared herself to capture the words and whole experience in memory, listening attentively as Fiewren sang ‘In the Cool Shade of the Mount’:
In the cool shade of the mount,
My love came to call in the morning, (to me)
And I knew not when he’d return,
So I held him forever that day.
Take me there, through the ash and pine,
Take me there, to the desert or sea,
Wherever you go, do not leave me here,
I will not be parted from thee.
O’er the deepest, bluest sea,
My love went to sail in the morning, set free,
And I stayed all alone in the shade,
Wishing I could share his embrace.
Take me there, through the ash and pine,
Take me there, to the desert or sea,
Wherever you go, do not leave me here,
I will not be parted from thee.
In the darkest, fiercest war,
My love was affrighted to leave me, (weeping)
And I feared he might cease to be,
And could never come back home to me.
Take me there, through the ash and pine,
Take me there, to the desert or sea,
Wherever you go, do not leave me here,
I will not be parted from thee.
In the cool shade of the mount,
My love came to call in the morning, (to me)
I had known not if he’d return,
So I held him forever that day.
In the cool shade of the mount,
My love came to call in the morning, (to me)
And I knew not when he’d return,
So I held him forever that day.
Stillness lay over the campsite when Fiewren stopped singing. A twig snapped at the edge of the ring, pulling Allabva out of her trance. She looked up to see Hronomon standing opposite her, behind Banduchy and Fiewren. “That’s the Nomo-Nomo that led us to you!” Amarkal proclaimed. “I can tell by the tufts at her ears.”
“Honey,” his mother addressed him, “Nomo-Nomo is the term we use for the Nomord when they are behaving in a silly manner that we don’t understand. The proper term is Nomord. This one just showed up, not doing anything silly.”
Hronomon didn’t speak. He shook his head and his mane, then bobbed his head twice. Finally, he backed away from the ring and calmly walked in the direction of the road, disappearing in the shadows beyond the reach of the campfire’s light. Allabva took this as a signal.
“I think it’s time I head out and resume my journey. Thank you so much for this dinner, and for sharing your warm fire with me. It was all beautiful. I must be going.”
“Not so fast,” Fiewren contradicted. “Take some more leftovers with you. Eat these first, since you mentioned that your trail food should last a little longer.” She grabbed a few bundles and handed them to Allabva, helping her open her bag to put them in while she used her hands to put the flute away and also to pick up her walking staff.
Banduchy had been watching Hronomon vanish in the darkness with a thoughtful face.
“Allabva, I’m not trying to pry, but if you have any connection to the Nomord then you need to be careful on the road these days.”
“Why is that? I don’t see the connection.” Why would she need to be more careful if she had a connection with the Nomord?
“Well, everything gets political, doesn’t it? If you mention loud enough that you like apples, somewhere there’s somebody who will ask you why you hate strawberries. Anyway, there are people who dislike the Nomord.”
“Why would anybody dislike the Nomord? They’re always happy and they never hurt anybody.”
Banduchy continued the thought. “And it’s not uncommon to see one, and they have the ability to heal, and sometimes if one decides to sleep in your fields then your crop turns out well, to see enough of them you can probably expect good weather, can’t you?”
“Yes, but those all sound like reasons to like them.” Allabva liked the Nomord for all those reasons, and because they appeared to have such a gentle disposition.
“Correct. But when do they do these things? When do they act benevolently towards people? When do they do us these special favors?” Banduchy spread his hands wide to invite Allabva to give a definitive answer to his questions. He appeared almost menacing because at the moment he happened to bring up this topic of conversation, he held the hatchet in his hand, being in the middle of cleaning up.
Allabva thought only for a moment, frowning. They weren’t difficult questions to answer in a certain fashion. “When they want to?” She intoned her answer as a question, thinking it obvious enough. “There’s never any rhyme or reason to it. It appears to occur by happenstance.”
“Right you are. But have you ever really thought to wonder why it’s like that?” His eyes were wide and his voice was soft, as if he were speaking ill of his mother while she was asleep in the same room.
“Well—” Allabva started.
“Bandy, please don’t tell me that you’re into this line of thinking,” Fiewren interrupted. He didn’t look at her, continuing to speak to Allabva.
“There are those who ask these questions. We call the Nomord ‘Nomo-Nomo’ when they are silly, but we consider them simply to be silly and fickle creatures most of the time. There are those who think they are unkind, perhaps even malicious.”
“Why would anybody believe the Nomord are malicious?” Allabva asked, incredulous.
“They think the creatures like to know that we suffer. That they help us from time to time just to show us what they can do, so we feel the difference more when they hold back.”
“Bandy…”
“Don’t worry, Fiewren. I don’t buy in. I still love seeing the Nomord. But Allabva, you need to watch out for these Disaffected. I’ve heard of them even gathering together and wishing they could kill some of the Nomord. If they think you might have some connection to the Nomord, they might not take too kindly to you.”
“Bandy, I love you, but this is all nonsense. I want you to be careful about what ideas you put in the boys’ heads. Boys, don’t stop getting ready for bed.”
“Okay, Fie. I’ll stop. Just be careful, Allabva. Be safe.” Banduchy resumed putting things away for the night.
Allabva wondered how much Banduchy or his family had inferred about Hronomon and her from him having led them to her. There was nothing to be done about it though, apart from hope that they were as good people as they seemed to be.
“Thank you, Fiewren, Banduchy, Ambinos, and Amarkal. I will remember all of you. I will be careful.” Allabva stepped away from the firelight, mentally reviewing the words to the song. In the Cool Shade of the Mount, she now knew it to be. The formerly nameless tune became even more significant in her mind, now that it was attached to a story that was so heavy and uplifting at the same time. It also made her think of Delgan, she had to admit. After he lent her the flute and gave her a simple hug, and then she disappeared into the night, the lyrics resonated in her heart and she wanted to ‘hold him forever’ today.
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