Storm Runner by Tara K Harper

Author:Tara K Harper [Harper, Tara K]
Format: epub
Published: 2010-01-07T07:28:28+00:00

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Chapter 10

When your children die,

When your county burns,

When your tears are thin with grief;

When you can see no further, and

When there is nothing left.

There is one thing still:

The gift of death.

The noise of the dinner crew was not enough to wake Dion or Aranur. It was not until a stern hand shook their shoulders that they opened their eyes.

“Come on, wake up, you two. Dinner’s getting cold, and there is much to talk about.” It was Aranur’s uncle, Gamon, his gray hair gleaming like a pale halo in the dim light of the cave.

Dion roused groggily. Aranur’s warmth curled around her body, and she felt lethargic, unwilling to move. The dark images of her dreams still caught her, and it took Aranur’s sitting up to waken her completely, the sudden rush of cool air shocking where it stripped the sleep heat away. She growled.

Aranur, looking down, grinned. “Hungry?”

She growled again, nodding emphatically. “Enough to eat two dnu all by myself.”

“In that case…” He tossed back the covers, rolling free and extending his arm to help her up.

Dion winced as she rose, glaring at Gamon’s chuckle. Now that Aranur’s uncle was old enough to have a weatherwise ache in one of his own legs, he found too much humor in the stiffness of younger folks. Her glare turned to a snort when he chucked her under her chin. Shoving his hand away, she reached out to slap his face playfully, grinning when he withdrew like lightning, blocking her move and giving her his own wrinkled grin. He was a gnarled figure, his face seamed and lined with scars and age. His gray hair was half-silvered, half dull gray, and it gave him a grizzled look. He had been like a father to her this last year. Dion, glancing from Aranur to Gamon, rubbed the sleepsand from her eyes and leaned down to pick up her sword and buckle it back on. Her stomach cramped, growling noisily, and both men looked at her and laughed. “Hush,” she said haughtily. “My stomach is merely making a statement about the time of day. Dinner time.” She glared at their stifled chuckles. Why did not other womens’ guts growl at embarrassing moments? She yanked at her braid and tugged her tunic into some sense of respectability. Her own jerkin was still damp, so she left it where it lay, scrounging in one of the clothing piles near the back of the cave for an extra. Catching a glimpse of herself in one of the mirrors that had been hung, she made a face. Aranur and Gamon glanced back.

Gamon knew instantly what peeved her. “We set up a shower a couple days ago,” he said soothingly. “You should use it tonight if you want your turn. Tomorrow, you will be riding back to town.”

“Tomorrow?” She frowned, but let Aranur pull her forward to the food tables. She took the plate she was offered, accepting the pile of meat and steamed vegetables eagerly, sneaking a piece of blackroot with her fingers and popping it in her mouth.

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