Falnight 05 (of 14)

[mother_herbivore]

Chapter navigation

CH01	CH02
CH03	CH04
CH05	CH06
CH07	CH08
CH09	CH10
CH11	CH12
CH13	CH14

When the day to leave came, Ishgod was my silent companion as I rose before dawn to dress and finish packing my things. I had said my goodbyes to the rest of them the night before to spare them all having to get up in the dark to see me off, but Ishgod was already awake, and I realized that he had not slept. He had always been troubled by the night, uncomfortable in the darkness, and Falnight’s disappearance had only exacerbated things. He was worried for both me and Falnight, and unhappy that I would be gone even for just a few days. Our home was his safe place and our family his comfort, and here half of it was missing or leaving. Of course I did not like to leave, either, and I was very glad for his company that morning.

 

He helped me tack up the horse and kissed me before I mounted, then stood there with one hand over mine on the reins for a long, quiet moment. Never had he been a man of many words, and he said little now, except to ask me to be careful on the road. I was familiar with the valley, and the people who live there are mostly good people. I had refused to believe that one of them might be responsible for Falnight’s disappearance, but Ishgod was a shaky realist: shyly hopeful but prone to think the worst of a bad situation if he was allowed to linger on it for too long. I reached out with my free hand and touched his cheek affectionately.

 

“I will be careful,” I told him. It seemed that did not ease his anxieties at all.

 

Then came Vicaste’s uneven footsteps as they joined us in the pen, wrapped in their heavy dressing gown and carrying Ishgod’s rifle. It had hung on a pair of wooden hooks over their bedroom door for years, a wedding gift from Vicaste to Ishgod that was well-cared for but had never been used against anything but training targets. I shook my head.

 

“You need it more,” Vicaste said. They lay the gun across my saddle. “And I won’t hear a ‘what if’ about it.”

 

“And what if they come for Winedawn?” I asked anyway.

 

We had not discussed the nefarious they yet, whoever or whatever had taken Falnight and the other children—because of course they had been taken, stolen from their families that they loved. Each of us had thought about it privately, of that I’m certain, but never spoken aloud of it. Maybe it was better that we didn’t, and we would not now. That Vicaste wanted me to take the rifle said enough. They did not move to take it back. Their dressing gown was starting to slide off their stump shoulder as they held the thing across my saddle with their only hand.

 

“If you have it, you won’t need it,” they said. “Misfortune only comes for the unprepared.”

I took the rifle. Vicaste gave me a few boxes of ammunition from their dressing gown pocket, then stepped back from my horse. Ishgod put an arm around their shoulders, rearranging their dressing gown more warmly with his other hand. We had thought to let them sleep because pre-dawn was chilly and I did not want to make them stand about while I loaded my things on the horse, but I should have known that they would get up anyway. And it would be better that Ishgod had someone to go back to the house with after I left, although as they stood there together, looking up at me, it was so much harder not to dismount and go back inside with them. This was why I had spent six months complacent—I could hardly bear to leave the family I still had.

“I will write from the nearest town once we know what the Dog says,” I said, reminding myself of the necessity for my trip.

“Hopefully you will not be gone long,” said Ishgod. He managed a wan smile, breaking my heart further. In the moment, I had no idea how long I would be gone. There was no telling what the Dog would divine, or how far away it would take me. I dared to hope for a short trip, no more than a few days.

 

But the longer I lingered, the harder it was to leave. Again I gave them my love, and before I could hesitate again, I pressed my horse into a brisk walk and left.