Gehnn's Story, Part 6

I have decided to just barrel on through this story. I just need to get it down. I've been tinkering at it for the past 10 years of my life (Yep. Since I was 8. What are the odds.) and it's about time I just WROTE it. So....this isn't going to be the most impressive bit of writing I'm going to do, but hey, John's posting stories he wrote in 24 hours, so I might as well. Give me your input, and tell you what you think.

"Hey! HEY!"

Someone was shaking her. Gehnn bolted up, her head hitting something hard.

"Ow! Hey!"

The tattooed girl - Yul Blunt - reeled back, hands covering her lip.

"Oh! I'm so sorry, I didn't mean..." Gehnn leaned forward, extending her hand uncertainly. "Is....Are you okay?"

"Yeah...no worries." Blunt took a deep breath, and let it out again. "Oh, lordy....Wow. Sure gave you a fright, huh?"

"Y-yeah." Gehnn laughed nervously. She realized that her heart was pounding. She sat back, breathing slowly, trying to calm her jitters.

"Sorry for waking you," Blunt said finally, rubbing her nose gingerly. "But Tummett is handing out breakfast and I figured you might want some."

"Uh....yeah." Gehnn swallowed, her heart slowly resuming its normal pace. "Yeah. That sounds good. Where is it at?"

"He's up at the head." Blunt jerked a thumb in the direction of the shellback's head, where the shellback driver usually sat (although it looked like these particular beasts were so docile that they hardly needed a driver). Tummett was indeed sitting there, handing out bundles of what appeared to be bread and some sort of spread in a little wooden bowl, with a bottle of water.

Gehnn crawled up to him, reaching out to take her own ration. Her hands shook as she took the bundle, and Tummett raised an eyebrow. "You okay?" he asked.

"Yes." Gehnn said. "I'm fine."

"You sure? Not getting sick with the shellbacks swaying or anything?"

"No." Gehnn said firmly. "I'm fine. Really."

"M'kay." Tummet shrugged. "If you say so."

He turned to tend to the other workers asking for food. Gehnn crawled back to her space, clutching her food to her chest. Crossing her legs and sitting back, she then spread it out before her, taking stock. Yep, bread, water, and some kind of black jelly. She dipped her finger in the little wooden bowl, giving it a taste. The rich, sharp taste of ridgeapples spread through her mouth.

She swallowed, feeling a sharp pang of homesickness. Shoving it to the back of her mind, she poured the jelly over her bread, and took a large bite. It tasted pretty good, anyway, and felt like it would keep through until supper, the only other meal they would be eating today.

"Don't know about this stuff," Blunt said, in her smooth drawl. Gehnn looked up, startled to see the girl sitting next to her. She was looking at her bowl of jelly, wrinkling her nose. Her gold nose ring glittered in the sunlight, and Gehnn couldn't help but wonder how she handled it when she sneezed. "I never liked desert fruit all that much. Never ate much of it, of course, but still."

"Hm." Gehnn focused on eating her own meal, trying to ignore her companion.

"But I guess food is food." Blunt sighed. "Be a shame to waste it." She tipped the bowl over her bread, and then set about spreading it with her finger. She did it with almost comical preciseness, painstakingly spreading the goop right to the crust, shaping it into an artful swirl. Gehnn couldn't help but glance over, wondering just what on earth gave a person cause to be so prissy with their food. Food was fuel, not meant to be pretty. What was the point in making it look nice?

With her spreading completed to her satisfaction, Blunt took a small, careful bite. She gagged, causing Gehnn to scoot away a few inches. She seemed determined to keep it down, though, and forced herself to swallow.

"Oh....lordy." she gasped. She looked down at her bitten bread, and grimaced. "I hate sweet stuff." She looked at Gehnn, and held out the bread. "Sorry. I can't do it. You want it?"

Gehnn, startled, replied before she could think about it. "Ah....s-sure."

Blunt shoved the bread into her hands, and then set about taking large gulps of water from her bottle, trying to get the taste out of her mouth.

Gehnn edged away from her, turning so that she didn't face her. This girl was a little too talkative for her comfort.

Right then, however, she caught sight of something that made her completely forget all about Yul Blunt.

A man sat at the driver's saddle, beside Tummet.

It was the man from the night before - the one with the wide brimmed hat and goggles. The one who clicked when he walked, from the metal on his boots.

Gehnn's chest went cold. Instinctively, she checked her wrappings, fingers searching frantically for the reassuring feel of soft cloth over her face.

The man didn't seem to take any notice of her, however. He was deeply engrossed in a conversation with the caravan master, face unreadable underneath the hat and goggles. Tummett looked very wary. He did not meet the man's eye as they spoke, and seemed to be taking very great care not to sit too close to him.

"A Rem."

Gehnn jerked her head around, seeing that it was Blunt who had spoken. She was watching the exchange at the driver's saddle with a grave expression, holding her empty bottle idly in one hand.

"Wh-what?" Gehnn stammered.

"Rems. You know. People from that place....Asor-something. It's a long fancy kind of name. I can't for the life of me remember all of it." Blunt tapped the bottle against her knee, still watching. "You never heard of them?"

Gehnn shivered. "S-sort of. My parents...." she halted, and then blundered on. "They're traders. They....they know a few of 'em. They don't like talking about them much."

"No one does." Blunt rubbed her lip with the bottle's mouth, looking thoughtful. "Kind of wierd Tummet'd have one along. Didn't see him yesterday, at the port....must've either come on after that, or was hired before us 'n Tummet didn't want to tell. I don't blame him, I guess." Blunt let out a sigh, making a low moaning sound with the bottle.

Gehnn tugged on her hood, not sure what to say. Or think.

The Rem had seen her the night before. He knew what she was hiding. He could tell Tummett, and then she'd be left as fodder for the skin-hounds -

-No. Wait.

She had to be calm down. Panicking would only make things worse.

The man. Would he tell? What reason would he have to tell? That was the big question. Had he even seen her face? She was pretty far up, and it had been dark. It would be hard to make out anything.

The memory of those red-lensed goggles pervaded her thoughts. They had almost seemed to glow faintly in the dark. Maybe they could see everything, dark or no. Maybe....maybe....

Tummett was coming down to the main saddle, looking very tired.

"All right, I got something to say."

All eyes turned to him, alert. There was something about his tone that made them all suspicious.

"This man, here - " Tummett gestured behind him. The Rem stood at the saddle's edge, hands tucked into the pockets of his surcoat. It was then that Gehnn realized that the shellback had stopped moving. "-he's a Shielder. He was passing us by this past morning and took the trouble to stop and give me a warning. Apparently...." Tummett paused, taking a deep breath. "Apparently, there's some bandit trouble up on the trail we're using. And it's fierce. We got some protection, but it wouldn't be enough. So..." he cleared his throat, looking very uncomfortable. "We're going to have to take a different trail. Through Glamus."

The reaction was instantaneous.

Everyone groaned, shouted, complained, whined. It had Gehnn mystified.

"Glamus is a dirt town," Blunt said.

Gehnn jumped. The girl was sitting right next to her, almost shoulder to shoulder. When had she gotten herself there?

"Too small for any real business, and it also means that we add a few more days to our journey."

Gehnn's Story, Part....um....Whatever

I never liked the original version of this scene, and so in a spare moment I rewrote it. It's considerably shorter, but I think that in the great scheme of things, it's better off that way. Let's see what you make of it.

The loading took up the next hour or so. Gehnn had once been used to this sort of work, but the aching in her muscles and her barely contained clumsiness revealed just how long it had been since she had last lifted something heavier than her pack. Her right hand seemed especially weak – several times, it gave way under the strain it was forced to undergo and slipped, nearly dropping the cargo she was carrying. Gehnn tried to hide it as best she could. Remembering the words of the shopkeeper once again, she put all her effort into not looking like a weakling.

The other workers made themselves known as the job went on. Overall, there were about five in the group, besides herself, who seemed to be working for passage - two men, three women. Gehnn only passed by them as they loaded the cargo, and so she did not get a chance to make a detailed study of them until they had finished. Tummett called them all to him, and had them introduce themselves to one another ("You'll be sick of seeing each other's faces by the end of this next fortnight," he said, "Might as well give names to the faces.")

A tall, bald-headed man with a mustache and several earrings went first - "I am Stavo Smick, from Port Lomeliss. It's in Keldis."

Someone who lived by the sea, Gehnn thought to herself. A Port-town. The man had come a long way.

A shorter man, a few years older than Gehnn, with shaggy hair and a grim face said, "I'm Hyram. From Marrowby. Few day's trip northward."

He wasn't much for words, was he? And Marrowby....Gehnn had heard of it. It was a small county not too far from Samare, where they were now. They didn't trade very much, from what her parents had sometimes said, and what they did trade was not anything special - just wood and some small crops. Marrowlings apparently kept to themselves, mostly. Gehnn didn't doubt it, seeing this sullen young man.

A young woman came next - she was about Gehnn's own age, maybe a year or two older. She was stocky and muscular, with a colorful sleeve of tattoos covering her entire left shoulder and part of her neck, and silver rings running up the sides of her ears, two in her left eyebrow, and one in the side her nose. Just looking at her made Gehnn's face hurt.

"I'm Yul Blunt," she announced. Her voice was husky, but strong - unusually strong for a girl's. "I'm from Keldis as well, but from Port Corsellis."

All these people from the sea. How strange. Did they come here for work? If that was so, it didn't seem like they were doing too well, if they were here.

The next person, a woman, was only a little taller than Gehnn, with dark skin and black hair pulled back in a thick, waist-length braid. A colorful cloth covered her head, and her clothes were made of well-woven cloth and good leather.

"I am Lissahnn Zheberassk," she said, with a trilling, slithering accent. "I come from Rredidossk, here in Samare."

Underneath her coverings, Gehnn shivered. She tugged on her hood, nervously fiddling at its edge. She avoided looking at the woman.

The next person, the last one before Gehnn, was a middle-aged woman who had short auburn hair, going grey, and a small brown eyes that peered tiredly around at her surroundings.

"I'm Claye Burnstock." she said. She shrugged. "I'm from Keldis. That's about it."

They all turned to Gehnn.

Gehnn straightened, trying her best not to feel - or look - intimidated.

"I'm Gehnn." she said. "I'm from....Pamarahn."

They all nodded, not really taking in the information. Gehnn could follow their thoughts - they were tired, and they had come here for pay, not to make friends. She would not be well remembered.

Well, that was a relief, anyway.

Tummett, seeing the introductions done, called them all to mount the shellbacks. They would be leaving very shortly.

"And no whinings or complainings about food or rest or whatever else crap you want to throw at me," he said. "I got enough on my plate as is, and I don't need your squallings to add to it. Suffice to say, you signed up for this, and you better stick to it, otherwise I'll drop you in the middle of the road halfway to Solstice, and I won't turn back when the skin-hounds come a-howlin' for your flesh."

With that chilling reprimand, they were sent off to the shellbacks.

The shellbacks were something like gigantic desert tortoises, except that their necks were shorter and legs longer and less stubby. These particualar ones looked sturdy, if a bit aged, and Gehnn didn't feel too nervous to clamber up the ladder to the large saddle strapped to the beast's back. She had ridden these once or twice before, and so while it was familiar to sit in the saddle and look down from that rolling height, the novelty of it was still there. She smiled to herself, underneath her wrappings, feeling as close to happy as she had ever been in the last few weeks.

She had made it. She had a found a way to Solstice. And what's more, no one found her very strange at all.