Return to Kinthaldith

A novel by Meredith Skye

Risser slept most of the morning, too. Now Jesh thought of the book in his pack because he was terribly bored. But then he'd been forbidden to read or write.

Jesh sat with his back to the camp, looking out at the river, wondering how things would go when they went home. In fact, he wondered where they were going because Risser had never told him. He hoped they were headed back for the Hasson, but he was completely lost out in the woods and could never navigate back.

A sound behind Jesh sent him scrambling to his feet; he searched frantically for his gun but tripped and nearly fell. Lord Risser stood there watching. Jesh calmed down and stared at him. The Heir looked terrible, but at least he was up.

"Well," said Risser, "You'll have all our enemies shaking in their boots." He smiled sarcastically and sat down near the fire. "Do you have any tea?"

Jesh collected his wits. "Yes," he said, drawing over to the fire. "I'll have to heat it up." First, he threw a few logs on to stoke the flames, which burned low, then set the pot back on.

"So, what's for breakfast?" asked Risser, trying to smooth out his disheveled hair. He looked better than yesterday, some of the color was back in his cheeks.

Jesh glanced up at the sky but didn't mention that it was well past noon. "What would you like?"

Risser considered this a moment. "Steak." He watched Jesh's response. "Why don't you go out and kill me a deer?" He looked perfectly serious, but surely he didn't mean it. The Heir's mood was almost playful.

Jesh stared at him a moment, then pulled the gun out of his cloak, more gracefully this time, and held it up bravely. "All right."

Risser laughed at him. "No, never mind."

Jesh put the gun away. "How about oatmeal?" It was easy on the stomach, but he didn't say that.

Risser nodded. "That will do."

Jesh stoked the campfire and made the oatmeal. Risser ate it slowly and drank the tea—not complaining about it. He finished only about half and then set it aside.

"Where are we headed?" Jesh asked.

Risser grew more serious and studied him a moment. "Have you ever heard of Talleighdoran?"

"Yes," Jesh nodded. He thought about it a moment. "But why not go the Hasson? Or even to Farhoven? Why Talleighdoran?"

"You know what's there?"

Jesh had vague memories. "A shrine of some kind."

"Yes, the Shrine of Mahandves."

Risser didn't volunteer any more information, and Jesh considered this. "You want to go on a religious pilgrimage--now?"

Risser glanced over at Jesh briefly. "Yes, I guess you could call it that."

It made no sense. Jesh knew little of religion because the servant class wasn't very involved in Kinthaldan religion. The Lords were considered spiritually responsible for their vassals. They observed the religious rites and passed on only what they deemed necessary for the servant class to know. Jesh's family had only gone to the temple on holidays.

Jesh knew that there was a sect on Kinthaldith that was very set against contact with Offworlders. They considered them the Strangers that had been forbidden by prophecy to deal with. He'd heard rumors that some of them regarded Prenth technology as a form of witchcraft. He thought back to Lord Darrish's attitude and began to worry.

Jesh stood up and took Lord Risser's dish. "Would you like anything else?" he asked.

Risser shook his head, standing up. "No. Strike the camp. Let's move out. I don't want to stay long in any one place."