Chapter Thirty-eight

Morning came faster than either individual cared for, and their eyes opened to the blinding morning sun. Libelle sat up first, kicking dirt into the smoking embers and gathering her things up. She lightly brushed and saddled both horses before Eskil had even gotten to his feet. He moved slowly like an old man would as he walked towards his gelding.

He patted the horse's neck with a yawn, feeling exhausted was not normal for him. Where had his energy gone? Libelle opened a bag and pulled out a large loaf of bread and dried meat. She broke the bread in half and handed him his portion. Then pulled two strips of meat out of the wrapping and handed him some. The same meal as the night before...he hoped this wouldn't be an everyday occurrence.

"We eat and ride," she said, returning the supplies to the saddlebag and climbing onto her horse's back. She waited until Eskil had done the same, but his muscles were stiff and unfamiliar with riding; he was going to be sore for days. Once he was in his saddle, Libelle leaned forward and handed her stallion a small chunk of bread. The horse's thick lips flapped as it chewed away on the tough dough. Seconds later she was walking her stallion down a stone path, silently eating her bread and dried meat.

Despite his attempts to bicker with her, Libelle remained quiet the entire day. They rode in complete silence until it was nearing dusk. She found a clearing along the path that was close to a small creek, which she said was plentiful with trout.

Like the evening before, she collected small stones and built a circle around her fire, tossing larger pieces of wood onto it as it grew in size and warmth. She removed the saddles and brushed down each horse before venturing out into the thick brush and returning with an armful of long, straight sticks. She pulled a knife from her boot, sat next to the fire, and began to slice thin amounts of wood from one end of each stick to form pointed ends on them. She collected the wood and walked towards the creek, Eskil slowly following her as he rubbed his sore back with a groan.

She kicked off her boots and rolled up the leather of her pants while he watched. All of her motions were fluid and all actions were taken with some sort of intention. She stepped into the creek with one of the sharpened sticks and then stood completely still. Eskil started to speak but she held a finger up to him. He grumbled, sat down at the edge of the creek and stretched out his arms and neck.

Libelle suddenly thrust the stick into the water, laughing as a smile formed on her face. She held her stick up, and on the end was skewered a relatively large trout. She waded through the water to where he was sitting and handed him the stick.

"Dinner," she said.

Eskil stared at the fish that had gone limp, shrugged, and took a large bite from its scaly and fleshy body. He grumbled with a mouthful of raw fish when she snatched it from his hands. A look of humor crossed her face, mixed with disgust, wide eyes, and narrowed brows.

"What?" he asked, swallowing the first bite of his meal. "You said it was dinner, I am eating."

She shook her head. "No! It's raw, you need to cook it first!"

She gagged, setting the speared trout in the grass next to him before grabbing another pole and returning to the deeper water. She easily speared four more fish before exiting the stream and walking back to the fire. Again, Eskil followed behind her and sat down by the fire across from Libelle.

She used the same knife to de-scale the trout that she had used to sharpen the sticks. Holding up the fish he had already taken a massive bite out of, she gagged again and shook her head. She pushed the sticks through the fish's mouth and stabbed them into the ground where the fish could hover above the fire. He heard the water on the fish sizzling and watched the meat slowly turning colors as it began to cook. She placed more wood onto the fire and waited patiently.

Several minutes later she pulled one of this fish from the fire and handed it to him, it was the one that he had taken a bite from earlier. "Now you can eat. It's cooked, so the meat is not raw and will not make you sick."

He accepted it from her and sniffed the now cooked fish. "Make me sick?"

"Yes, people get sick from eating raw meat. Wrecks your belly for days."

He snorted. "You mortals are so weak."

She shrugged. "If you see it that way, fine. But just be thankful I was kind enough to get you something other than bread and dried meat. Finish eating, then get some sleep. We are leaving at first light again."

Libelle ate two of the cooked trout before leaning up against a tree and wrapping her pelt around herself. She shut her eyes and within minutes she was asleep. Eskil stared at her while finishing the last few bites of his third trout, sighing happily due to his full belly and the fact he didn't have to taste any meat or stale bread for the evening. His morning meal was surely not going to be as satisfying.

He set more logs into the fire before lying down and resting his head against his saddle, smiling while staring up into the night sky. He lay there with no specific thoughts in his mind. The sky was now completely dark with thick clouds, and the stars were not out like the evening before. He sighed again and placed his forearm over his head where it rested on his scaled horns. He was exhausted and he wanted sleep; so sleep he shall have. Closing his eyes, he was asleep within moments. His mind blank, his dreams forgotten, he would wake in the morning.