Chapter 113 Things Asha Knows

Chapter 113 Things Asha Knows
Elias

Asha decided she was coming with us while I was saddling our horse, and apparently she had no intention of asking first.
I discovered this when I came around the side of the cottage carrying Lyanna's saddlebag and found a second horse tied beside ours.
Asha was fastening a bedroll behind its saddle when I stopped in front of her.
“No.”
She glanced at me.
“I haven't said anything yet.”
“You brought a horse.”
“Very observant.”
“Asha.”
Behind me, the cottage door opened.
Lyanna came out with her cloak already fastened and one hand beneath the weight of her stomach as she stepped carefully over the threshold. She had slept better than she had in days, but there were still shadows beneath her eyes.
She noticed the second horse before looking at me.
“No,” I repeated.
Asha pulled the strap tighter.
“You don't know where I'm going.”
“You're packing dried food, blankets and half your medicine cabinet.”
“A quarter.”
“You're coming with us.”
“For part of the way.”
Lyanna reached us and asked, “How far?”
Her voice was quiet and rough from disuse, but Asha understood her perfectly well.
“North of the next ridge. There are two routes from there. One will put you on the old shepherds' road without taking you through another village.”
I looked at Asha.
“You didn't mention that yesterday.”
“You were busy discovering that your father publicly disowned you.”
That ended the argument for several seconds.
Asha's expression softened before she continued.
“I also hadn't decided exactly when I was leaving.”
I frowned. “You're leaving?”
She gestured toward the bundles behind her saddle.
“I wasn't planning to stay here forever, Eli.”
I glanced toward the cottage.
“You've been here long enough to accumulate furniture.”
“It came with the cottage.”
“You have shelves.”
“I am a healer. Shelves are useful.”
Lyanna's mouth curved, although Asha ignored her.
“There are more people moving north every week,” Asha said. “Families are leaving farms, wounded soldiers are failing to reach proper infirmaries, and some villages are sharing one healer between them if they're fortunate enough to have one at all. I was already planning to move on.”
“Because of the war.”
“Because people need help.”
Her answer was simple enough that I stopped arguing with it.
Asha tightened the final strap.
“I'll travel with you until the fork beyond the ridge. After that, I'm taking the western road.”
“Where does it lead?”
“Eventually it reaches several mining settlements and a cluster of villages that have been taking in displaced families.”
“You've heard they're short on healers?”
“I've heard they're short on almost everything.”
Lyanna looked at her.
“You were going anyway.”
“Yes.”
Asha gave me a pointed look.
“So you may stop behaving as though I have abandoned a peaceful retirement because the two of you appeared at my door.”
“You don't have a peaceful retirement.”
“I could have imagined one.”
I looked toward the road.
“Did anyone come through the village overnight asking questions?”
“No.”
“Then we leave now.”
“I agree.”
That surprised me enough that I looked at her again.
Asha rolled her eyes.
“I am not trying to keep you here, Eli. You have stayed as long as you safely can.”
Lyanna was already moving toward our horse.
I caught the reins before she reached them, which earned me a look.
“I know.”
“You were about to do it yourself.”
“I can mount a horse.”
“You can.”
I positioned the horse beside the low stone mounting block near the garden wall.
Lyanna looked at it before looking at me.
I waited until her mouth tightened.
Asha passed behind us carrying her saddlebags.
“Pregnancy is a wonderful teacher of humility.”
Lyanna looked at her.
“Don't.”
Asha smiled, and I wisely said nothing while Lyanna used the block.
We left before the village had properly woken.
Mist still sat low between the hills, gathering in the hollows and turning the distant trees into grey shapes. The road remained empty behind us, although I checked anyway and looked back again when we reached the first rise.
Asha noticed the second time and said nothing.
We travelled north as the road narrowed, leaving the fields behind and climbing into country where cottages appeared less often. Pines crowded closer to the track, and the ground remained damp from the earlier rain, which softened the sound of the horses' hooves.
Lyanna rode while Asha kept her horse beside her, and I walked slightly ahead whenever the road allowed it.
That arrangement lasted until Asha said, “Has he told you about the fox?”
I closed my eyes.
Behind me, Lyanna asked, “What fox?”
“There was no fox.”
“There was absolutely a fox.”
I looked over my shoulder and found Lyanna watching Asha with immediate interest.
“This conversation is unnecessary.”
Asha ignored me.
“He was eleven.”
“Twelve.”
“You were eleven.”
“I was the one present.”
“So was I.”
Lyanna's mouth curved as I faced the road again.
“The fox was injured,” I said.
“It was furious,” Asha corrected.
“It had a trap around its leg.”
“And Eli decided that because it was injured, it would understand he was helping.”
Lyanna laughed softly.
I looked back at her.
“It was caught in wire.”
Asha nodded.
“So he wrapped his hands in his coat, crawled under a hedge and tried to free it.”
“That sounds reasonable.”
“Thank you.”
Asha looked at Lyanna.
“It bit him.”
Lyanna's eyebrows rose.
“It was frightened.”
“It bit him twice.”
“The second time was my fault.”
Both Asha and Lyanna stared at me, and I immediately regretted speaking.
Lyanna asked, “How?”
I returned my attention to the road.
“I tried to pick it up.”
Asha began laughing, and Lyanna joined her.
“The animal was injured.”
“It had just bitten you.”
“I wasn't going to leave it there.”
“No,” Asha said. “Instead, you carried it home bleeding through your sleeve.”
Lyanna's laughter quieted.
“You saved it?”
I glanced back.
“Eventually.”
Asha made a doubtful sound.
“What?”
“You did not save it.”
“I freed it.”
“Your father paid the gamekeeper to treat it because you refused to go inside until someone promised it wouldn't die.”
“That is a considerable exaggeration.”
“It was raining.”
“I remember.”
“You sat beside the shed for two hours.”
“I was waiting.”
“For the fox to personally thank you?”
Lyanna lowered her face, but not before I saw her smile.
I pointed toward the road ahead.
“We should be listening for riders.”
“We can listen and discuss your poor judgment simultaneously,” Asha said.
“That explains your childhood friendship.”
Asha looked offended, which made Lyanna laugh again.
I should have known that would encourage her.
By the time we stopped near midday, Asha had told Lyanna about the vase despite my attempts to prevent it.
The three of us ate beneath a stand of pine trees far enough from the road that neither horse could easily be seen from it. I stayed where I had a clear view between the trunks while Asha passed Lyanna bread and dried fruit.
“The vase,” Asha said, “came from somewhere south and cost more than Eli's first horse.”
“It was ugly.”
Lyanna looked at me.
“That keeps being your defence.”
“It remains relevant.”
“He broke it with a knife.”
Lyanna stopped chewing.
I sighed.
“There was an apple.”
Asha leaned closer to her.
“He had just learned knife throwing.”
“I had been practising for months.”
“He had been annoying everyone for months.”
Lyanna swallowed.
“What happened?”
“Serena said he couldn't hit the apple from across the room.”
I looked at Lyanna.
“You have met enough of Serena through description to understand what happened next.”
Her smile appeared immediately.
“You tried.”
“I succeeded.”
“The apple was hit,” Asha conceded.
“Thank you.”
“The vase behind it was also hit.”
Lyanna covered her mouth.
“The knife went through the apple.”
“And into the vase.”
“It was directly behind it.”
“It was three feet to the left.”
I frowned.
“I don't remember that.”
“I do. I helped you hide the pieces.”
That silenced me.
Lyanna looked between us.
“You helped him?”
Asha's confidence faltered slightly.
“I was twelve.”
“You spent the last ten minutes criticizing me.”
“I was an accomplice under pressure.”
I nodded toward her.
“She suggested burying it.”
Lyanna laughed.
Asha pointed at me.
“You agreed.”
“We were children.”
“You were the one throwing knives indoors.”
Lyanna's shoulders shook as I tore another piece from my bread.
“Asha was afraid of geese.”
Her head snapped toward me.
“We are not discussing me.”
“Apparently childhood history is communal property now.”
“I was not afraid of geese.”
“You refused to cross the east courtyard for an entire summer.”
“One chased me.”
“Once.”
“It was vicious.”
Lyanna watched us with unmistakable enjoyment.
I realized then that she had not asked another question about Mireya. She was simply listening to stories that had no consequence beyond embarrassing me, and Asha apparently possessed hundreds of them.
Until yesterday, Lyanna had known none.
I had seen how much that difference bothered her.
I could have redirected the conversation, but instead I said, “Ask her why I stopped sleeping with the shutters open when I was seven.”
Asha turned slowly toward me.
“Oh, you wouldn't.”
Lyanna's interest sharpened immediately, and I reconsidered what I had done far too late.
“What happened?” she asked.
Asha smiled.
“He became terrified of moths.”
I looked toward the road.
Lyanna blinked.
“Moths?”
“One flew into his room.”
“One flew into my mouth.”
Asha lost whatever composure she had left.
Lyanna stared at me.
I met her gaze.
“I was seven.”
That did not help.
“You were afraid of moths?”
“I was not afraid of them.”
“He screamed.”
“I inhaled an insect.”
“He woke half the house.”
“It was in my mouth.”
Lyanna laughed hard enough that the roughness in her voice caught and turned into a cough.
Every trace of amusement left me as I reached for the water.
She waved me off before I could hand it to her, cleared her throat and took it anyway.
Asha watched me, which I chose to ignore.
After drinking, Lyanna signed with one hand.
You screamed?
“I was choking.”
Asha made a doubtful sound, and I decided I had tolerated enough.
“Lyanna hates salted meat.”
Her head turned toward me.
I continued before she could stop me.
“She has hated it since approximately the third week on the road.”
“I hated it before.”
Asha looked at her.
“Then why do you eat it?”
“Because he keeps buying it.”
“It keeps.”
“It tastes like leather.”
“It has kept you alive.”
“It can do that farther away from me.”
Asha laughed.
I pointed at Lyanna.
“She also mutters when she's irritated.”
“I do not.”
“You do.”
Her eyes narrowed.
“You started speaking again and apparently decided your first use of the privilege should be insulting our provisions.”
“I have other uses.”
“I've heard them.”
Lyanna switched to sign, moving her hands quickly enough that Asha caught only part of what she said before laughing.
I looked at her.
“You understood that?”
“Some of it.”
“That is unfortunate.”
Asha turned to Lyanna.
“Show me the last one.”
“No.”
Neither woman acknowledged me.
Lyanna repeated the sign more slowly while Asha copied her.
Her fingers were wrong, so Lyanna corrected them.
I stared at both of them.
“This is becoming a problem.”
Asha tried again.
“Better?”
Lyanna adjusted her thumb.
“There.”
Asha grinned.
I looked between them.
“I object.”
Lyanna signed, Why?
“You know why.”
Asha frowned.
“I don't.”
“It took me months to learn enough of this language to argue with her properly.”
“And?”
“You have been here one day.”
Lyanna's mouth curved.
Asha said, “Are you worried we'll discuss you?”
“You have spent the entire morning discussing me.”
Lyanna signed something else.
Asha watched carefully and understood this time without help.
Both women looked at me.
I disliked that immediately.
“What did you teach her?”
Lyanna smiled, but neither of them answered.
I stood.
“We're leaving.”
Asha laughed as she began packing the food.
We were back on the road within minutes, and the humour did not make me careless.
Twice that afternoon, I stopped us because I thought I heard horses behind us. The first sound proved to be a wagon moving somewhere beyond the trees, while the second never came again.
We avoided the next settlement entirely.
Asha led us off the road before dusk and onto a narrow track that climbed through thick pine. The incline forced Lyanna's horse to slow, and after half an hour I moved closer to its side so I could keep an eye on both the path and her.
She had become quieter by then.
When the ground levelled again, we stopped beside a stream to water the horses.
Lyanna stayed with our horse while I filled the skins, and Asha joined me at the water.
“How long before she needs to stop?”
“Soon.”
“I meant for the night.”
“So did I.”
Asha glanced toward Lyanna.
“She looks better than yesterday.”
“She is.”
“You still need to shorten the days.”
“I know.”
Asha crouched and rinsed her hands in the stream.
For a while, the only sound between us came from the water moving over stone.
Then she asked, “What happens when you reach Aeloria?”
I tightened the stopper on the first skin.
“Lyanna will be safe.”
“And you?”
My hands stopped, and I looked at her.
Asha waited.
“I don't know.”
“You haven't decided.”
“There is nothing to decide yet.”
“There will be.”
“If we reach the border.”
“When.”
I almost corrected her but decided against it.
Asha dried her hands against her trousers.
“Will you go with her?”
“That may not be my choice.”
Asha's expression changed.
“No, it may not.”
Aeloria had every reason to hate me.
Whatever Lyanna told them would not erase the uniform I had worn or the armies I had served beside. I had never expected gratitude for returning one of their people after helping occupy her country.
I had considered the possibility that they would imprison me, and I had considered the possibility that they would execute me. I had even considered turning away before Aelorian soldiers ever had the chance to decide.
What I had not considered was what came after Lyanna was safely beyond my reach.
Asha stood.
“You've thought about getting her there.”
“Yes.”
“But not about leaving her there.”
I looked toward Lyanna.
One hand rested against the saddle while she stretched the stiffness from her back. When she noticed me looking, she lifted her eyebrows.
I held up the water skin, and she nodded.
Asha left me beside the stream.
We made camp well away from the road before dark and did not risk a fire.
The three of us ate cold food beneath the trees while the last light disappeared behind the ridge. Asha sat beside Lyanna and practised the signs she had learned earlier.
Her hands were still terrible, although Lyanna corrected her patiently.
At one point, Asha made some mistake that changed whatever she had intended to say into something else, and Lyanna laughed.
I looked up from checking the strap on my pack.
Tomorrow, Asha would leave us at the fork and continue west toward settlements already filling with people displaced by the war, while Lyanna and I continued north.
After that, there would be another road, another ridge and another stretch of country between us and Aeloria.
I had spent months measuring our progress by comparing the distance we had travelled against the distance still remaining, and every mile north had meant Lyanna was closer to safety.
Eventually, if we survived long enough, there would be no distance left between her and home.
I watched her take Asha's hand and reposition two of her fingers before demonstrating the sign again.
Reaching Aeloria had always been the point, but I had never asked myself what I was supposed to do once I succeeded.
For the first time, the answer that should have been simplest frightened me.
Lyanna might no longer need me there.