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Chapter 113:- The Sunlit Fields of Ragonne
The path through the mountains shifted to another passage soon thereafter, and the descent became more pronounced. Elsbeth could feel the downward slope when she stepped, that odd, lurching-forward feeling like the beginning of a fall. Clumps of stubborn grass joined the bushes on the edge of the passage.
With the weather holding they walked until the sun set, until Elsbeth dared not go on, afraid of missing a marker in the dusk.
"Any sign of another resting place?" Murrow asked.
"Not yet."
"I doubt there will be. It's not needed, so why would they build one? We've descended far enough to be out of the mountain-cold. We may as well make camp. "
Elsbeth wrapped her cloak closer around herself. The air was cooling rapidly now. "It's certainly not warm.
He grinned. "It's only May. Of course it's chilly. But it won't snow, not here, and I expect we can find enough bits of wood to make a small fire."
They found a spot where the passage wall curved out, then back, making a partly-sheltered niche. "Here?" Murrow said.
"Good as any."
"I've slept in worse."
"Yeah, yeah, tough mountain guy. I've heard it."
"You get snippy when you're tired, Elmar. Did you know?"
"And hungry. Don't forget hungry. Being hungry makes me very cranky."
He laughed, settling his pack in the niche and beginning to search the rocky floor of the passage for twigs and small branches, fallen from the scraggly trees.
"It's just strange," she said, following his lead, scanning for firewood.
"What is?"
"Last night, we were trapped in a snowstorm, facing at a cold, miserable death if we didn't find shelter. Tonight..." she shrugged. "We'll be sleeping outside. Not comfortably, but not freezing either."
He grinned. "That's the mountains for you. The higher you go, the colder it is. Go high enough, and it can snow all year round."
"But how?" It burst out like water coming to the boil. She'd been pondering the question all afternoon. "How can it snow there," she gestured towards the peaks rising behind them. Some were, indeed, snow-covered, just as when they'd entered the mountains. Days ago? It seemed like weeks. Months. "But not here? Or down below? It's all Elbany."
"For a bit longer. Then it'll be Ragonne."
"Ragonne starts where the northern mountains end. And that doesn't answer the question. How can it snow in the mountain tops and none reach the ground?"
He hesitated. "Well..."
"Come on, prince of Bruster. Surely you're not going to claim this is some sort of secret only the mountain-born can understand?"
He stooped, gathering a handful of twigs. "I'm not sure."
"What?"
He reddened. "I know that it happens. But I don't know why. It is odd."
She guffawed, assuming at first he was joking.
"Truly?"
His blush deepened, and he scowled at his embarrassment. "How should I know?"
She chortled. "What? Something about the mountains the Brusterian prince doesn't know?"
"Maybe the snow does fall everywhere but closer to the ground, where it is warmer, it melts and become rain."
"But the ground's not wet here."
He made an exasperated noise. "I don't know."
She smiled but he seemed so out of sorts about being caught in ignorance about something mountain-related she didn't say anything more.
They managed to find only enough wood scraps for a small fire, but only a small fire. Still, she was grateful for the small circle of heat and light.
The morning was cold again. They'd slept through, letting the fire go out during the night. But the chill air encouraged them to break camp quickly and begin walking again. The path shifted to a new passage not long after they started out, and she was glad again they'd stopped the night before when they had; she felt certain she'd have missed the marker.
After an hour or so the passage began to widen, the walls to grow steadily lower, until it could hardly be called a passage but merely a path. They rounded a curve, and she saw it. Just as she'd imagined. A view looking out onto Ragonne, fields gleaming in the early morning sunlight.
It was time. Here. Now.
The path through the mountains shifted to another passage soon thereafter, and the descent became more pronounced. Elsbeth could feel the downward slope when she stepped, that odd, lurching-forward feeling like the beginning of a fall. Clumps of stubborn grass joined the bushes on the edge of the passage.
With the weather holding they walked until the sun set, until Elsbeth dared not go on, afraid of missing a marker in the dusk.
"Any sign of another resting place?" Murrow asked.
"Not yet."
"I doubt there will be. It's not needed, so why would they build one? We've descended far enough to be out of the mountain-cold. We may as well make camp. "
Elsbeth wrapped her cloak closer around herself. The air was cooling rapidly now. "It's certainly not warm.
He grinned. "It's only May. Of course it's chilly. But it won't snow, not here, and I expect we can find enough bits of wood to make a small fire."
They found a spot where the passage wall curved out, then back, making a partly-sheltered niche. "Here?" Murrow said.
"Good as any."
"I've slept in worse."
"Yeah, yeah, tough mountain guy. I've heard it."
"You get snippy when you're tired, Elmar. Did you know?"
"And hungry. Don't forget hungry. Being hungry makes me very cranky."
He laughed, settling his pack in the niche and beginning to search the rocky floor of the passage for twigs and small branches, fallen from the scraggly trees.
"It's just strange," she said, following his lead, scanning for firewood.
"What is?"
"Last night, we were trapped in a snowstorm, facing at a cold, miserable death if we didn't find shelter. Tonight..." she shrugged. "We'll be sleeping outside. Not comfortably, but not freezing either."
He grinned. "That's the mountains for you. The higher you go, the colder it is. Go high enough, and it can snow all year round."
"But how?" It burst out like water coming to the boil. She'd been pondering the question all afternoon. "How can it snow there," she gestured towards the peaks rising behind them. Some were, indeed, snow-covered, just as when they'd entered the mountains. Days ago? It seemed like weeks. Months. "But not here? Or down below? It's all Elbany."
"For a bit longer. Then it'll be Ragonne."
"Ragonne starts where the northern mountains end. And that doesn't answer the question. How can it snow in the mountain tops and none reach the ground?"
He hesitated. "Well..."
"Come on, prince of Bruster. Surely you're not going to claim this is some sort of secret only the mountain-born can understand?"
He stooped, gathering a handful of twigs. "I'm not sure."
"What?"
He reddened. "I know that it happens. But I don't know why. It is odd."
She guffawed, assuming at first he was joking.
"Truly?"
His blush deepened, and he scowled at his embarrassment. "How should I know?"
She chortled. "What? Something about the mountains the Brusterian prince doesn't know?"
"Maybe the snow does fall everywhere but closer to the ground, where it is warmer, it melts and become rain."
"But the ground's not wet here."
He made an exasperated noise. "I don't know."
She smiled but he seemed so out of sorts about being caught in ignorance about something mountain-related she didn't say anything more.
They managed to find only enough wood scraps for a small fire, but only a small fire. Still, she was grateful for the small circle of heat and light.
The morning was cold again. They'd slept through, letting the fire go out during the night. But the chill air encouraged them to break camp quickly and begin walking again. The path shifted to a new passage not long after they started out, and she was glad again they'd stopped the night before when they had; she felt certain she'd have missed the marker.
After an hour or so the passage began to widen, the walls to grow steadily lower, until it could hardly be called a passage but merely a path. They rounded a curve, and she saw it. Just as she'd imagined. A view looking out onto Ragonne, fields gleaming in the early morning sunlight.
It was time. Here. Now.
