Chapter XXXVI - Madmen, Ghosts and Poets

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The ground under my feet was loose and slippery. I liked to think I had good balance, but the track had quickly proved me wrong. Twice I slipped and skinned my knees on the sharp rocks. Fendur hauled me up by my pack both times with a sympathetic smile which only made me feel worse about it.

The higher we got, the colder it got. Once we had climbed past the shelter of the lower peaks, we were exposed to a brisk easterly breeze which sucked the heat from your bones and set your teeth to chattering. Snatches of a conversation drifted back to me in that wind.

"Don't think for one moment that fooled me, Glyn," Temris was saying.

"I was trying to fool Sami, not you. It was the only way she'd let me come."

"Well, it worked," he snapped. "I hope you're very proud of yourself. You can go back to sulking now."

Apparently, Tem's near-infinite patience with his brother was finally running out. They quit squabbling, and I wasn't quite sure why. Maybe Glyn had slotted into the line elsewhere.

I hadn't known it was possible to be sweating and unable to feel your fingers at the same time. There was a danger in surrendering to the heat of the day and stripping down, only to find yourself shivering uncontrollably. It took me just an hour to decide I hated climbing.

"What are you talking about?" Fendur asked when I confessed my feelings on the matter. "It's great fun. We run up and down cliffs just to work up an appetite in Sierra."

Anlai glanced back. "You're a liar, Fen. We only do it to collect bird eggs in the spring. It's usually a race to the top."

"Well, I think you're all idiots. Why risk getting killed over a few eggs?" Melia asked. She didn't seem to be faring any better than me, which was a small consolation.

"Because it makes the omelette taste that much better," Fendur laughed. "The girls always win anyway. We only race for tradition's sake."

"The girls climb?" Melia sounded shocked, oddly. If she hadn't picked up on the gender equality after two weeks with the northerners, I wasn't sure she ever would. I mean ... had this girl met Samira?

Anlai eyed her strangely. "Of course."

Fendur nodded. "You should see Sami. I've seen her beat Tem to the top before, which is really saying something."

The two men exchanged a wistful look, full of silent understanding born of twenty years of friendship.

"I miss her already," Fendur sighed.

"Aye, me too," he agreed.

"What is so special about Samira?" Melia demanded icily. I wasn't sure if it was jealousy or just hostility.

Fendur grinned. "She can kick all of our arses."

"I love that in a woman," Eirac added, shouting from all the way at the front.

The southern girl's confusion grew. "We were always taught that men liked their wives to be meek and obedient. I could have sworn there was nothing about violence..."

"Gods, girl. Where's the fun in that?" Even Anlai was sailing the good ship Independence now. He only ordered his wife around because she let him, I think.

A pebble clattered down the cliff, bouncing off ledges and slopes until it came to rest in a crevice a hundred paces below. My fate, if my backstop failed me. Even as I wondered how many of my bones would be shattered by such a fall, Melia took another tumble. Anlai restored her to her feet with surprising gentleness.

Fendur seemed to have taken it upon himself to educate her in northern customs. "Look at Lyra, for example. She's got a warlord pinning after her. Do the words meek and obedient come to mind?"

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