Twenty-Seven

                                    

                                          

                            

                                
                            
                              
                                  
                              
                              
                                
                                  
                                  
                                
                              
                             
                            
                            
                          
                          
"Have you ever bitten off more than you can chew?" I ask Nortus running my hand down his black mane while staring up at the intimidating mountains looming over us.
I was warned that the trek ahead would be grueling. The blistering cold, the rocky, overgrown trails, and the ache in my thighs from riding a horse for hours, but that was nothing compared to the monstrosity towing above. Why would any living creature climb this mountain to hide a stone? It would have been safe buried in the sand along a beach or in the tall grass of a meadow. Hiding it in one of the highest mountains in the five kingdoms is the work of a sadist.
Nortus lifts his head from the clear stream and bristles.
"Trust me, friend. I don't want to climb it either," I say, leaning against his side and taking in the clearing where we chose to set up camp for the night.
He grunts and rips a clump of grass up, smacking his lips as he chews. It must be nice not having a care in the world. Eat, sleep, and carry people around—it sounds like a good life right about now.
Samson nuzzles his wet nose against my neck. I laugh and swat him away, but he doesn't give up. His warm breath brushes my cheek until I run my hand down his muzzle.
"Sometimes I wonder who is the real king; you or Kyron," I say, scratching behind his ear.
He leans into my touch and closes his big brown eyes.
"You want to come and get warm with friends, or are you going to spend the night having one-way conversations with horses?" Terro asks, placing a pile of wood next to the fire Greer built.
Samson kicks his hind leg back and Nortus snorts. They are smart, and I've never felt like they don't understand to some degree. Terro is right though. I can't spend the night standing between two horses. I give them each one last affectionate stroke and join the others.
Kyron sits with his back to one of the logs they placed around the fire, rummaging through a satchel filled with food. He tilts his head toward the empty space beside him, and I sink down on the dirt. He removes a cloth filled with dried fruit and another of beef jerky. We each take what we want and pass it around the circle of our friends.
I can't recall ever seeing Kyron as excited as he was when we learned about the Imperium. He was so eager to leave the temple and get moving. The closer we get to the mountain, his enthusiasm seems to transform into something more serious. He's in general mode... quiet, alert, and brooding. It doesn't sit well with me.
"Are you all right?" I ask, keeping my voice low while the others carry on with their conversations.
He takes a bite of jerky and stares into the fire. I wait patiently for him to answer, watching the muscle in his jaw flex as he chews. It feels like minutes pass by before he says, "I'm having a hard time with the notion that you have to do this on your own. I don't like the thought of letting you out of my sight and leaving you to face the Statera only knows what without me. It scares me to think I have to stand by while you risk your life. It doesn't feel right."