[piosenniel]

Piosenniel

The southern skies proved cooperative that night. Low lying clouds, threatening storm, scudded thickly over the water. Thin bands of moonlight shone weakly on the waters of the shallow cove, passing eerily over the longboat with its five occupants. It was still hot, closely hot, as if the clouds pushed down the heat against the water and the land for spite. The prow of the boat scraped up on the narrow shingle of sand strewn along this small section of the foothills. Hamar and the two sailors from the ship, who had come to take the boat back, jumped into the midcalf surf and hauled the craft securely onto the sand. Pio and Baran joined them on the little beach, packs in hand.

Pio handed Hamar’s pack to him and nodded with her chin up to a darkened cleft some ways up the nearest rise. ‘There’s our signal,’ she whispered, motioning for the sailor nearest the prow to blink the shuttered lantern there back in response. The return signal, two blinks of the boat’s light, was answered in turn, then the lantern above went dark. A short time later two well armed men came warily forth from the dark piling of boulders that marked where the sand met the earth of the foothills. Their boots skittered slightly on the loose dry sand and small pebbles as they came to a halt, waiting for one of the party to approach. Hamar stepped forward, halted almost before his advancing foot hit the ground, by a firm grip on his forearm from the Elf. A few short sharp words were exchanged before he stepped back, allowing her to make contact with the men.

~*~

Several hours later found them at the crest of the foothills. The clouds had cleared a little and they could see in the distance the small drop to a narrow valley and across it the steep climb once again to a way through the mountains. Their two guides asked if they might want to take a brief rest, their eyes gauging the fitness of the three strangers. ‘No rest. We have urgent business beyond the craggy peaks. Those who wait for us require that we move forward with all speed.’

The two guides bowed slightly, acknowledging her words, then took up their positions before and behind the three. Taking a quick look about on the moonlit scree, the man in front motioned the three to keep close. A small caution to watch their footing followed . . . then silence, punctuated only by the clatter of small pebbles as they made their way to the valley floor . . .