Yrsa IV
Yrsa walked through the woods in search of berries. She meandered and lazed about it because there wasn’t much else to do. As she rolled things around in her head, she put words to her feelings of the last few days.
While they fled her home, Flour Town, Yrsa wondered why she was with Harry and Arne. She was no magic user. She wanted to stay back with Gorm and scare off the mob. She wanted to protect Papa. She wasn’t one to disobey instructions, but she was annoyed that Papa and Gorm were so quick to send her off. She was no fragile bard! There was no reason to protect her.
But Yrsa quickly worked it out. Arne was accustomed to camping: he set up a quick fire, owned a big thick blanket, and knew which plants you could eat. Harry was good at music, and that was about it. Neither Arne nor Harry could defend themselves, and neither had any good sense about the woods. Papa had taken her hunting every year when the air began to chill, and she knew these woods by instinct. Gorm had trained her to fight. She began regarding Arne and Harry as weak, though she never had before. The truth of it, Yrsa finally realized, was that they needed her. Gorm and Papa knew it straight off. It took Yrsa some time in the woods with the two lutists before she understood.
Yrsa bent down and plucked a handful of berries for her empty jar. It was their second full day in hiding, and she hadn’t slept much last night. She was sleepy all day yesterday, but when night came she felt wide awake. She noticed that Harry had dozed off while keeping watch, so she sat up and took both their shifts. She knew she couldn’t trust him to stay awake and keep guard. She listened to the woods and fed the fire for hours. In the lighter hours of night Arne awoke to take over watch. Yrsa dozed on light sleep—never comfortable enough to really rest.
She meandered about the game trail some more. There was a berry bush nearby whose fruits weren’t quite ready yesterday. They probably still weren’t, but Yrsa went to check anyway. She listened to the rushing river in the distance to her left. It was a grounding, comforting, sound; so long as they could hear the river, Papa could find them.
But they hadn’t heard anything.
Yrsa didn’t know what was happening in Flour Town. She worried for Papa and Gorm. She thought of punching in stupid Rickard’s chickenshit face for selling them out. She was anxious and sleep deprived. Why hadn’t someone been to see them yet? She had brought Arne and Harry to Papa’s favorite campsite. They kept a small fire every night. They never wondered too far from the river.
Why hadn’t anyone been to see them?
…
Yrsa’s belly grumbled. It wanted more food, but they were out. She leaned her back against a tree, looking out into the darkness, away from the campfire. She tried to explain to Arne and Harry that watching the fire ruined their nightsight—they preferred to stare at the embers anyway. Yrsa was annoyed with them but tried to keep it to herself. She knew she could see things in the night that they couldn’t. Her eyes were adjusted. She looked between the trees in the direction of home.
Arne and Harry sang softly to each other, and she let them for a while. It was comforting. But after a few songs she asked them to stop. They could go all night, and get each other worked up and loud. She needed to hear the woods. So now they sat quietly listening to the fire crackle over the distant river’s gentle flow.
Yrsa heard it before them. She closed her eyes and squinted, trying to determine the direction of the sound. It was still far off. Her eyes snapped open and darted through the trees. It continued like that for several minutes; the sound was approaching. Yrsa held the dagger with a tight grip, eyes wide, ears flexed.
The sound was unmistakeable. She had explained to Harry that oftentimes a small creature, like a squirrel, will make an absolute ruckus in the forest, while bigger creatures, such as elk, are capable of moving in near silence. This sound was neither. This was the sound of bumbling. It tried to move silently, but failed royally. It wasn’t as loud as a squirrel rummaging through leaves, and it wasn’t stealthy like large game. It was a person trying to find their way in the dark.
Yrsa was sure Arne and Harry had heard it, but when Harry loudly declared “Did you hear that?” Yrsa shot out a hand to silence him. Idiot. She had been listening for minutes. She let the annoyance pass and focused her eyes and ears once more.
Eventually she saw faint torch light. Without warning Arne or Harry, she pursed her lips and whistled loudly. Papa had taught her the bird call when she was little. It was their little super power. As long as they could hear each other’s bird call, they knew where the other was. While it was most useful in the woods, where they couldn’t afford to scare a creature, it also helped them around the house. They didn’t need to exchange shouts or have a conversation. They were often just checking in, like birds. “Here I am!” The call said.
Normally, Papa would’ve echoed the call. No echo came. Instead, the torch light quickened and the footsteps became even sloppier. The excited torch light stumbled faster toward them.
On edge, Yrsa quickly and quietly stood. She took a few careful strides and slid behind a tree near the path. Arne and Harry sat still, gaping. Idiots. They watched her, unsure of what to do. The person was nearly to them now.
“Harry?” It whispered. Another idiot. Why whisper at this point? Yrsa lowered the dagger and relaxed.
“Dougy!” Harry cried. He leapt up and ran towards his brother, and the two embraced. “Have you brought food?”
“A lot!” Dougy said, and handed Harry a bag.
“Keep your voices down!” Yrsa listened intently. What if Dougy was followed?
“Is the coast clear?” Harry whispered. “Can we come back now?”
“Actually,” Dougy hesitated. “Yrsa’s Papa and Gorm told me to tell you to hike at first light tomorrow. Here, they gave me a map.” Dougy searched through the bag.
“Where?” Yrsa grabbed for the map as soon as she saw it.
“They say there’s a lady in the woods that can take care of you.”
Harry whispered to his brother, “What’s happening in town? Is the mob still there?”
Dougy looked down. “They searched the woods North, Papa and Gorm sent them the wrong way. But the men came back tonight.”
“Why hasn’t anyone come yet?” Yrsa asked. She studied the map. They had a long hike ahead of them.
“They’ve been watching Papa and Gorm. And your house. A few of the men never left.”
Yrsa saw Harry bite hard into an apple. She grabbed one for herself. She furrowed her brow and considered her options.
Previous Chapter: https://therealzsmith.com/2023/04/14/resistance-chapter-14/
Next Chapter: https://therealzsmith.com/2023/06/02/resistance-chapter-16/
One thought on “Resistance: Chapter 15”