Journey To Light: Part I of the High Duties of Pacia by Bob Craton

CHAPTER 23

  Graice and Holder § 5

  Graice was disoriented for a moment until her eyes focused and she realized she was still in the tent. Light from the campfire shining on the tents walls enabled her to see Holder lying next to her while Madrére Sybille sat on her other side. Graice’s head was dizzy and she did not try to sit up right away.

  “What . . .? What happened?” Graice asked Sybille.

  “You broke contact, Graice. You let go of his hand.”

  “But . . . no. I wouldn’t do that.”

  “That doesn’t matter now. Did you find a memory?”

  “Yes, but just one small fragment,” Graice replied. Her dizziness decreased and she sat up slowly. Looking down at Holder, she said to Sybille, “Let me tell you what I saw while he’s still sleeping.” When Graice finished, the Madrére pondered what she had heard.

  “Obviously the young woman is someone important to Holder. Are you certain he didn’t think of her name?”

  “Of course I am. Do you think I’d forget something like that?”

  “No, but identifying her might reveal who he is. Determining where he was at the time would also be helpful. You say the wall was made of white stone?”

  “Yes.” Graice’s voice was testy but Sybille recognized that it was only due to the Sistére’s frustration and made no comment. Graice clearly felt that she had failed.

  “Was it chalkstone or something else?” Sybille asked.

  “I don’t know. He didn’t think about the wall at all, or anything else. Only her.”

  “Even though you didn’t see the woman’s face, you seem certain that she was beautiful.”

  “If you saw exactly what I did, you’d agree. Besides, Holder knew about her beauty. That part was easy to tell.”

  “Does it seem significant that contact was lost just as she turned toward him? You would have seen her face a moment later.”

  “What? No. Why would that be significant?”

  “Never mind.” Sybille decided not to mention the fact that Graice had pulled her hand away at that exact moment.

  “Madrére, I wasn’t able to make any link. All I did was observe those few seconds. He won’t remember this when he wakes.”

  “You can describe it to him to see if that helps trigger something.”

  “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” Graice seemed to tire as she spoke. “It would be painful for him to hear about someone he can’t remember.”

  “He’ll insist on you telling him, I’m certain, but there’s nothing you can do tonight. You’ve had a great strain. Let me help you to our tent so you can lie down.”

  “Oh, I told Holder that Ignacio and I would take turns standing guard tonight. I need to ask Ignacio to take the first shift.” Graice’s eyes blinked as she struggled to keep them open.

  “I’ll tell him,” Sybille said as she helped Graice to her feet.

  “He should wake me when it’s my turn.” Graice’s voice was soft and her Aura showed her exhaustion.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll tell Ignacio what to do,” Sybille assured her.

  When Holder awoke, he was alone in the tent. He didn’t expect to find Graice – he knew she wouldn’t stay in a tent with a man any longer than necessary – but he wondered where Ignacio was. As he went outside Holder was surprised to see the predawn light glowing in the eastern sky. He had slept through the night. He looked around and saw Ignacio with a blanket around his shoulders sitting slumped by the cold remnants of the campfire. It appeared to Holder that Ignacio had managed to fall asleep without lying down again. Moving closer, Holder touched Ignatio’s shoulder, causing him to open his eyes with a start.

  “Why are you here instead of sleeping in the tent, friend?” Holder asked.

  The older man sat up straighter and said, “I’m on guard. Madrére Sybille stayed up the first half of the night and I the second. She said it was important to Sistére Graice for one of us to stay awake.”

  “You and Sybille stood guard, not you and Graice?”

  “Yes. The Madrére said Sistére Graice needed to rest all night because of the stress she was under last evening.”

  When he heard that, Holder looked pensive for a long moment before speaking. “Well, I’m up now. You should go in the tent and lie down. You have time to get an hour’s sleep.”

  “Thank you,” Ignacio said as he rose unsteadily to his feet. “Wait, the Madrére told me to wake her when you got up. I’ll do that first.” He walked to the second tent and said something softly through the canvas. A moment later, he nodded his head and came back to where Holder stood. “She’ll be out in a moment. Good night, Holder.”

  “Good night.” As Ignacio entered their tent, Holder picked up some sticks of wood and stacked them so he could rekindle the camp fire. Sybille would not appreciate the early morning chill. As the wood started burning, Sybille emerged from the tent. She wore a different dress than before, one that was clean and not badly wrinkled. Holder realized she must have just put it on in the tent. He waited for her to sit on a buffoe skin which lay beside the fire before sitting himself.

  “Good morning, Holder,” she said. Her face was puffy and her hair tangled.

  “Good morning, Mother.”

  “I must look frightful.”

  “I assumed you intended to look that way,” Holder said causing her to glare at him for a moment.

  “Are you being funny?”

  “Apparently not, if you have to ask. I’ll try to be cleverer next time.”

  “You’re a bold man, Holder,” she said. “Few people attempt to joke with me.”

  “Because of your intimidating frightful appearance, no doubt.” His smile was slight but his Aura sparkled with humor. “Graice said she could occasionally read certain things about me if I didn’t object.”

  “And you don’t object to me seeing that you’re indeed attempting to be amusing.”

  Then Holder’s expression grew serious. “Why are you up so early, ma’am?”

  “Meaning why am I awake and Graice isn’t?”

  “Meaning why aren’t you both still asleep. Ignacio said Graice was under a strain last night.”

  “So were you, Holder. Do you remember anything?”

  “No. I went to sleep and then I woke up. Whatever Graice tried to do didn’t work.”

  “It wasn’t a complete failure. In fact, she achieved one thing of importance,” Sybille said. “She was able to see a small fragment of one of your memories. It was only a few seconds long but it proves you still have recollections. We were worried that the injury to your head might have destroyed brain tissue and caused you to lose everything.”

  “Are you saying I have memories but just can’t recall them?”

  “It may not seem reasonable but that’s the case. Graice said she was she was unable to find a link that would connect your memory to your conscious mind. That’s the way she describes it. I admit that my understanding of what she does is incomplete.”

  “If she finds this link, as you call it, will I be able to remember everything?”

  “That’s what Graice hopes but success is far from certain,” explained Sybille. “Holder, she told me what she saw and I suggested she tell you today. However, Graice thinks that hearing a description of a scene which you can’t remember might be harmful to you.”

  “Is this why you wanted to talk to me first? To tell me this?”

  “After hearing what Graice described, I believe you’ll want to hear it regardless of whether it pains you. If that’s correct, I’ll tell you. It will be easier for me than Graice.”

  “Tell me now,” he insisted.

  Holder listened intently as Sybille repeated Graice’s description. He stared at her face until she finished, and then he leaned forward and propped his elbows on his knees. He lowered his head to look at the ground rather than at her.

  “You don’t recognize the young woman from this description, do you?” Sybille asked.

  “No,” he said sadly.
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  “Before letting Graice continue, consider the possibility that your memories may be too sad to bear.”

  “I don’t care,” he snapped but then Holder raised his head to see Sybille’s face. “You’re worried about Graice rather than me, aren’t you?”

  “I’m concerned about both of you. She’s trying to do something no one else has ever attempted. Many things could go wrong and injure both of you.”

  “I don’t want anything to hurt Graice but I can’t be injured any more than I already am.” Suddenly Holder relaxed control over his expression and Sybille saw intense frustration, pain, and sorrow on his face. He changed back to his usual stoic expression but Sybille knew that he had chosen to show her his real feelings. He told her, “Graice said that she and I have something in common because neither of us knows where we were born or who our parents are, but we’re not the same. She has a normal recollection of her own life and I have twenty-four years lost from mine. No, it’s not the same.”

  “You were twenty-four when . . . ?”

  “When I woke up to find Dimas tending to my wounds, yes. He told me how old I was.”

  “You look younger than you are.”

  “Do I seem younger to you?”

  “No. Just the opposite,” she said. “Holder, whether or not I agree with Graice’s methods is irrelevant. She’ll do whatever she wants and I know she wants to help you. Besides, even I agree that determining your identity is worth taking a risk.” Then she looked around and saw the light brightening in the east. “The sun will be above the horizon in a few minutes.”

  “You can go back to sleep if you want to, ma’am,” he told her. “We don’t have to leave at the exact crack of dawn and I can load the wagon quietly.”

  “I would prefer to stay up with you. But I’m tired so don’t expect me to be much help loading.”

  “Ma’am, I would be embarrassed if you so much as offered to help.”

  Sybille saw the twinkle of amusement return to his face. She wondered how he could switch from humor to seriousness and back again so quickly. He was, after all, just a man. But then he became solemn once more.

  “Do you have a guess about who I am?” he asked.

  “I never guess and I don’t have enough information to analyze the situation with any accuracy.”

  “Madrére Sybille, I’ve decided that we shouldn’t keep secrets from each other. You may ask anything you want about me and you should tell me everything you learn about my identity.”

  “I’ll do the best I can, Holder,” Sybille said as she looked in his eyes.

  “That’s not what I said.” He frowned as he spoke.

  “I know and I’m sorry, but I have my reasons for not promising more.” With that, she started to rise but then stopped to ask something else. “Did your friend Dimas ever tell you what day it was when you woke up in Catai twelve years ago?”

  “The twenty-ninth of Vernal Month; I remember because he used that day as my birthday from then on. Why?”

  “I was just wondering,” Sybille assured him. To herself she speculated: how far could a man Dimas’ age move an unconscious man Holder’s size in fourteen days? All the way to Catai? She thought yes, if he had a little help.

  When Graice emerged she wore a new dress as well, one in a subdued mixture of dark yellow and tan. She had also taken her hair down from its bun so that the long thick braid hung down her back. When everything was ready, she and Sybille climbed into their cramped space in the wagon and the Madrére recounted her conversation with Holder for Graice. When she concluded, she asked, “Are you upset with me for talking to him before you awoke?”

  “It doesn’t matter, Mother. I’m sure you had your reasons and you always do what you want to.”

  “Me?” Sybille smiled wanly. “I do think it was for the best. Recounting scenes taken from his own memory is different from telling him our speculation about his identity.”

  “I’m not arguing with you about that. You declined to promise Holder that you’ll keep no secrets from him?”

  “Correct.”

  “I’m convinced you have some conjecture about his identity. Will you tell him?”

  “I told him I never make guesses,” Sybille replied.

  “Will you tell me what you think?”

  “I don’t think anything, Graice. If I guess at the truth about Holder, I might believe he is more important than I could have imagined, and having that speculation in our minds would be a mistake,” Sybille insisted. “Whether you believe that part or not, think about something else. If we say something prematurely and we’re wrong, he’ll be distracted by the false information and your ability to find the truth would be diminished.”

  After a moment, Graice said, “Yes, I believe you’re right. I won’t say anything to him about his name and I’ll make sure no one else does either. But I will guess about what you’re thinking now.”

  “I don’t see the point . . .”

  “Maybe I don’t have a point but let me continue. I believe you gleaned more from his brief dream that you’re letting on. You asked specifically about the white stone wall.”

  “Many places have white walls.”

  “Not so many and almost all of them are made of chalkstone. I’m sorry I couldn’t tell what type of stone this wall was. All I can do is replay memories and if he didn’t pay attention to something at the time, he won’t recollect it now. The decorative sculpture on the wall was artfully done, for example, but he didn’t notice it then so I don’t know what scene was carved there now.”

  “I understand,” said Sybille. “In his memory, you can’t make him look at something he didn’t see at the time no matter how curious you are about it.”

  “Yes, but he was aware of one spot on the wall where her elbow rested as she looked at the scenery. Even though she was in a city looking outward, it was nothing similar to the type of wall built for protection; not a thick structure at all, just something like the exterior of a building.” Graice recognized that this description meant something to Sybille and said, “Madrére, you’ve said before that you met a few people during your travels who were resistant to your abilities.”

  “Yes, I said that.”

  “Were those people all in the same family?”

  “Not just one family, no. But they were all members of a small group of interrelated families.”

  “Did everyone in those families have this immunity?”

  “No, just a few.”

  “And did all of these people live in the same place?”

  Sybille paused before answering, “Yes.” Graice stared into Sybille’s eyes for even longer before replying.

  “I’ve heard that Abbelôn has delicate white walls which turn golden in the light of sunset.”

  “I don’t know if those walls still reflect light like they did before, Graice.”

  The side road wasn’t smooth like the highways had been but they still made reasonable time. For some reason Holder was in a more talkative mood and he chatted with Ignacio telling anecdotes about his late friend Dimas and their adventures with the caravans. At one point Ignacio turned to Holder and asked, “Would you like for me to give you a haircut when we stop?”

  “Why?”

  “Well, it is a bit long and rather ragged.”

  “I don’t want it too short.”

  “I can trim it evenly and still leave it as long as you like,” Ignacio said. “With that and some nice clothes, all the ladies would notice you.”

  “Is that a good thing?”

  “I wouldn’t know. They never paid much attention to me even when I was young.”

  “When we reach Lucidus, will Mother Sægesse pay me whatever wages have accrued?” Holder asked and Ignacio seemed alarmed.

  “Yes, but I know she wants you to stay with us after we leave Lucidus.”

  “And I will, but I need to buy something and I didn’t have any money to spend before we left Matik.”

  “Some clothes, I’m guessin
g. And it’s all right to call her Madrére Sybille while we’re out here with no one around.”

  “That town that I mentioned isn’t far ahead so I’ll keep saying Mother for now,” Holder replied. “Now that you mention it, new clothes might also be a good idea, but I meant something else. I need a bottle of walawa extract.”

  “Walawa?”

  “Yes. Mother Sægesse will tell you about it when you repeat this conversation to her.”

  “I . . . uh . . .”

  “Don’t be timid, Ignacio. I expect you to report all you hear to your employer.”

  “She’s much more than an employer, Holder. She really is a dear friend.”

  “That’s even more reason why you should tell her everything. Besides, I’m not keeping secrets any longer,” Holder said. “If I recall correctly, we’ll see that town around the next bend in the road. We’ll seem less suspicious if we drive through it rather than around. Would you tell the ladies we’ll be there soon?”

  Ignacio stuck his head under the wagon cover and pulled it out a moment later. “They ask if we can buy some fresh food in town, just for a little variety from the dried stuff.”

  “We’ll see.”

  “I should apologize again for the fact that all three of us are such novices,” said Ignacio.

  “Don’t be sorry. And don’t ask what word caravanners use instead of novice. As I said, it’s rather impolite. I don’t want Mother Sægesse to turn me into a lizard or some such thing.”

  “She really can’t do that, you know. Neither can Daughter Elysia,” Ignacio assured Holder.

  “So I’ve been told but still it makes no sense to irritate a powerful woman.”

  Ignacio chuckled and said, “I do know something about that.”

  Very little was for sale in the town’s market place, but Holder stopped the wagon long enough for Ignacio to buy four small loaves of bread and two withered apples at a little shop. “These were the only apples which didn’t have wormholes,” he explained to Holder when he returned. “Nothing else seemed palatable.”

  “You should give the apples to the ladies.”

  “I will unless they insist on cutting them in half to share with us.”

  “I won’t take food away from either of them,” said Holder. “They can have my share of the bread, too. I’m fine eating tack.”

  “They definitely will not accept that, friend, and neither would I. I bought four individual loaves for a reason,” replied Ignacio. Then he sighed. “Sometimes I wish I could lie to the Madrére. It would be a lot easier if I said we had four apples so she wouldn’t insist on cutting these in half.”

  “Remember not to irritate her.”

  “Believe me, I won’t forget that,” said Ignacio. As soon as the town was out of sight, Holder stopped the wagon so Ignacio could distribute his purchases. Sybille reacted exactly as expected and demanded that the food be divided in exactly equal shares.

  “Please don’t, Madrére,” Ignacio said. “Holder and I both would rather let you have the apples.”

  “Oh, let the men have their little game, Mother,” Graice said with a soft laugh. “I’m sure it amuses them to pretend they can take care of us.”

  “Thank you, Daughter,” Ignacio said to Graice. Turning to Sybille, he said, “Holder wants to buy a bottle of walawa extract when we reach Lucidus. He said you would know what that is.”

  “Humpf. Does he think I use it? Obviously I don’t,” Sybille said as she patted her hair. “Walawa is a cosmetic potion. Wealthy older women use it to keep their hair dark rather than turning gray.”

  “Hmm. He wasn’t very receptive to the idea of me giving him a haircut either,” said Ignacio. “He told me he didn’t want it too short.”

  “Interesting.”

  “I’m sure he intends to tell us something,” added Graice. “Otherwise he wouldn’t have said anything to Ignacio.”

  “I believe you’re correct,” Sybille said. “Well, you should get back to the bench, Ignacio, so we can start moving again.”

  “Yes ma’am.”

  The road narrowed as they continued eastward and it had more potholes and rough spots as well. By the time they stopped to camp for the night, the women and Ignacio were tired of being bounced up and down. Before Holder had a chance to pitch the tents, Graice and Sybille approached him and got straight to the point.

  “Why do you want walawa extract, Holder?” Sybille asked.

  “I haven’t had any in a while and if I don’t drink some soon I’ll have to shave my head,” he answered. “Dimas told me that many times. Would the two of you look at my hair and tell me if seems different? The only mirror I owned was broken a month ago and I can’t see it myself.”

  Graice started to offer him the loan of her mirror but Sybille spoke first. “Yes, we’ll do that, Holder. Show us.”

  He bent forward from the waist so they could see the top of his head and used his fingers to part the hair down the middle. Both women leaned closer to observe.

  “It’s a lighter shade underneath,” Sybille said. “Don’t you think so, Graice?”

  “Yes, definitely.”

  “Then I really do need to do something when we reach Lucidus. I’ll also wait until then to take Ignacio up on his offer of a haircut,” Holder said as he stood up straight.

  “He’s really quite good at such things,” Sybille assured him.

  Turning to Graice, Holder asked. “Will you try to help me again tonight?”

  “Yes, I will.”

  “Thank you. If you discover who I really am, perhaps I won’t need to worry about my hair anymore,” Holder said. As an afterthought he added, “About posting a guard tonight . . .”

  “We’ll all take turns,” Sybille insisted. “And don’t argue.”

  Holder sighed but said, “All right, until we get into the hills anyway. Wild animals roam there, including wolven and some bears, and dealing with them is my job. Well, we should finish setting up camp and cook dinner now.” He noticed that Graice was looking at him.

  “What color is your hair when you don’t darken it?” she asked.

  “I really don’t know. I always trusted Dimas’ advice and I’ve kept it this way for as long as I remember.”

  The women looked at each other and nodded. Then Sybille glanced around and said, “Holder, please erect the privacy screen over by the stream. Graice and I will wash ourselves as best we can.”

  “In the morning, Madrére,” Graice responded. “I’ll be busy tonight.”

  Graice carried her flask and cup as she followed Holder into the tent. He stretched out and she poured elixir into the cup.

  “Madrére Sybille will come in and sit with us after we start,” she told him as she handed him the cup. He swallowed the liquid first and then spoke.

  “She doesn’t have to wait outside,” Holder said as he started yawning. “Especially not if . . . I fall . . . as fast as last . . .” His eyes closed before he finished the sentence. Sybille entered and Graice lay down and took his hand.

 
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