Healer of Sakkara

Chapter 2 - Dreams

Despite the warmth of exertion, the cold gnawed at Triss's fingers and bit at her nose and cheeks. Missing a step, she stumbled and fell in the powdery snow, sending up a plume of white. Before she could get up, a large, warm hand grasped her arm and helped her to her feet.

"Alright?" Behn asked, his voice muffled by the cloth covering the lower half of his face and his eyes shadowed by his overhanging hood.

"Fine," Triss said, dusting snow from her clothes and hair and rearranging her own face cover. "How about you?"

"Peachy," Behn puffed. "Hungry, tired, sore, and somehow sweaty and freezing at the same time. But great, otherwise."

He gave a thumbs up, and Triss laughed. Three days had passed since they left the Haven — three days of gruelling marches through thigh-deep drifts and two nights of sleeping in freezing temperatures that left them aching with cold by sunrise. Behn had kept up admirably well, and insisted on doing his share, preparing their meals morning and night in the one small cook-pot he'd been permitted to bring, while Triss and Obi handled the shelter and fire.

"Same. We'll stop soon, I think. We need time to build a shelter before nightfall, and getting a fire started in the snow is a bitch."

"Everything all right?" Their third companion, Obi, retraced his steps along the path he'd ploughed, having noticed they'd fallen behind.

"Yes. I was just saying we ought to keep an eye out for a good place to shelter for the night," Triss said.

Obi frowned and squinted up at the sun, which still sparkled at a high angle through the snow-clad trees. "You may be right," he said. "But knowing Rea, she won't slow or stop until evening. She's already got almost a two-day head start. I'd rather not fall further behind."

"If Rea's not a fool, she'll have stopped early as well," Triss said. "If she didn't, then we'll catch up to her frozen corpse soon enough."

"I don't get it," Behn said, following the direction of Obi's gaze and squinting at the cloudless blue sky. "Is there more snow on the way?"

Obi smiled grimly. "No. We might be better off if there was. Clouds are like a blanket for the sky, even when they come bearing snow. A clear night — like the one to come — can be much colder. Nothing between you and the indifferent stars above, which will twinkle on merrily as you freeze to death."

Triss shivered as an unwelcome memory rose in her mind, and shoved it down again.

"Are you cold?" Behn asked. "You want my gloves? My hands are sweating."

"How are you always warm?" Triss asked, ignoring the offer and setting off after Obi as he turned and trudged on through the snow.

"Big boys... burn hot!" Behn huffed, bringing up the rear. "That's what my dad always says."

Triss glanced at him over her shoulder. "Your dad would be proud, if he could see you now."

Behn waved his free hand dismissively, gripping his walking staff with the other. "Nah. Any time spent outside the brewery is time wasted, far as he's concerned."

"Well, I'm proud of you," Triss said, and shot him a wink as what little she could see of his face flushed crimson.

Facing forward again, her smile faded. It was the truth — she was proud of him. Behn wasn't the chubby boy she'd played hound-and-hare with all over the streets of Dern. He was a man now: a man with a good heart, a kind soul, and a stalwart strength that could be relied upon. He'd never be a warrior — wouldn't last two days in the Guard — but he'd fight to the death for his friends.