DaveFayram/FiveWhispers
That stupid snickering always got on Maradelin's nerves. He always was doing it when he was in the tree, reading. It annoyed her more because she couldn't read, so she didn't know why. She hated being out of the loop. Five Howls didn't always tell her what was so funny. "You'd have to read it to get it." he'd say down to her, as she worked on oiling his saddle, "It's not something you'd laugh at anyways." That got her even angrier.
"Where did you get that one anyways?" Maradelin asked, not bothering to look up as she put the saddle carefully on a spare branch and began on hers.
"My friend? The Old Man. You know?" he said dismissively. Obviously he was involved. Maradelin wouldn't just be ignored though, she pressed on.
"When are you going to let me meet him, anyways?" He talked about this Old Man a lot, but she couldn't really remember meeting him. He seldom came, and he always had gifts. Not even Five Roar's parents had met this "Old Man." They only knew him by his books, and occasionally by scribbled notes left in the camp.
Five Howls wasn't listening anymore, he always got quiet whenever anyone asked much about that "Old Man." He suddenly pulled out his compass-Maradelin was jealous of that possession more than any of the others, all the Clan-Chiefs had one-and suddenly began writing with a twig in the soft bark of the Yalor tree. "What? What what?" Maradelin hadn't ever seen him do this before.
"This book is only about 10 years old. It talks about an old trading post the Dragon Kings kept closer to the ocean... I think I know where they're talking about." He suddenly snapped the book closed and begain to climb down from the tree. "Are the saddles done?"
Maradelin frowned, "Yours is, I was just about to do mine."
"Fine, catch up, I'll ride slow to start. It's only about a week away." He picked up his saddle and walked over to his chestnut horse. "It'll be fun. Better than helping ready the herd anyways."
Maradelin was going to protest. She was just about to. He couldn't just dissapear for a week, imagine the trouble it'd cause. His parents would be worried. THey weren't brining extra meals, they didn't really know where they were going... Then she sighed. It was hopeless. "Fine, sure. I'll ride back a bit and see if I can find an outrunner to give the news to, then I'll catch up."
Five Howls lept up easily onto his horse, his child's frame seemed even smaller, dwarfed by the massive size of mount. However, everyone conceded that Five Howls was probably going to be the best rider the Four Oak Clan had seen in some time.
"You won't regret it, Maradelin. Maybe you can earn your name this time."
Maradellin scowled as he and his mount trotted off, covering the oils from the dust he raised. She watched him for awhile, hoping for him to look back, to seem to care, but he never did. She sat down, putting her saddle on her knee. Sometimes, she felt a lot like the lone oak beneah which she sat. Everyone seemed to always be riding off into the distance, but she always seemed to stay still.
Five Howls had to admit, this was a little harder than he anticipated. He found the place easily enough. A copse of oaks on the great plains of Marukan was hard to miss, and the trap door in the pile of rocks that must once have been a lookout tower wasn't that hard to miss.
The strange vines that tried to grab and strangle him were the real problem. Fortunately, he'd managed to cut himself free, but his bow was worthless. And Maradelin still hadn't caught up to him. The book hadn't mentioned them, hadn't warned him at all. Still, at the last moment, just as he was about to step in, something had made him hesitate. That instant had let him see the vines twitch, and tremble, had given him warning to leap back before he was totally ensared in a deadly embrace. His leg was already swelling and purpling up. He'd managed to avoid a broken limb, but he didn't feel like walking or riding too far today.
Five Howls began to pace, unevenly, favoring his leg. He pondered, considered, the decided. He began to pace around, pushing rocks as best he could with his injury, crawling into small holes, looking around for any other entrance, as he reasoned there ought to be.
It didn't take long for him to find a small trapdoor, much smaller than the last one. It was locked, but the lock was old and bad, and his shortsword was thick and new. THe passage also seemed to be devoid of plant life. "So far so good."
