Joel could see the entire valley from his camp just beneath the saddle of Carren’s Pass. Tall smooth cliffs stretched away from the pass for miles to define a steep narrow mountain valley. Joel's sharp gryphon eyes could just make out the jagged cirque at the valley's head in the fading sunlight. He watched as darkness slowly obscured the rose colored stone until it was no longer visible. By the time he looked away from the magnificent rock formation the thick pines covering the valley floor were already indistinct and colorless in the shadows. A small pang of disappointment struck Joel. He would have liked to see if he could discern Carren's Stead, the small village which happened to be his destination, among the trees.
Through a gap in the thin trees to the east of Joel’s camp lay the Cealeon Road. The wide and well-used thoroughfare reduced to no more than a narrow dirt cart path this high in the Green Mountains. Joel had been following the road for more than a week and was glad to almost be rid of it. The Cealeon Road ran down from the pass in gentle curves until it was swallowed by the dense valley forest below. Joel cast one more appraising look at tomorrow’s path before turning back to his small fire.
Joel settled onto the small rock he had procured to be his seat and resumed turning the small rabbits he had shot that morning over the hot coals. He had stopped fearing nighttime ambushes this far from the lowlands and had begun to put aside his weapons at night. Joel took a moment to glance away from his cooking food at his weapons. His sturdy bow rested in its leather case next to its full quiver just beyond Joel’s sword. The weapons which had seen the most, and bloodiest, use during his travels rested out of his reach, but Joel still kept a long belt knife at his hip as a matter of habit. It had been so long since Joel had been able to discard the caution of keeping his weapons ready that relaxing now made him feel uneasy. Joel hadn't yet decided what he would do with his sword when he reached Carren’s Stead. The village had never had any need of swords. Perhaps he could mount it over a fireplace?
From the other side of the fire Joel’s constant companion, Dancer, shifted slightly looking for a comfortable patch of mountain grass to rest on. Joel contemplated her from his seat while he pulled the finished rabbits out of the fire. Dancer wasn't anything special. She was just a grey earth mare who could never say a word due to the thick scar running over her throat. She'd been the only constant in his life ever since he'd saved her all those years ago. Dancer had stood by Joel for many miles over many years. Sometimes she stood as one among many friendly faces; at others she stood as Joel’s sole traveling companion. Joel had been a little worried about taking her this high into the mountains, but she seemed to be handling the cold of the valley as though she had been born in it. The resilience of ponies never ceased to surprise the gryphon.
Joel finished his meal in silence as he watched the fire slowly die. The night was cloudless and still and very cold. Winter had officially ended a few months ago, yet here in the mountains snow still clung to the bases of trees and the night air could chill even the hardiest gryphon’s bones. Joel pulled his ragged grey cloak around him to keep the worst of the cold out.
For the past dozen years Joel had known nothing but fighting and marching and anonymous killing. That was all over now. Half a day’s march would take him to Carren’s Stead. In half a day Joel would be in the home of his childhood. Gazing into the last of the dying embers a half remembered tune came to Joel’s mind and he sang quietly with a husky unpracticed voice.
Away over the mountains
Far past the farthest river
The soldiers go away
As my baby goes to play
The summer’s long and the days are hot
But the nights are quiet and calm
The soldiers fight no more
As my baby goes to war
The fields need tending
The sheep are all lost
The soldiers die by the score
And my baby comes home no more
Joel kicked dirt over the last coals and, ignoring the curious look he was receiving from Dancer, retired to his small tent for the night. Joel slept cold and sore and dreamed of the home he had left a lifetime ago.
~~~
“Papa, Papa! Come quick! Old Maggie fell over!”
Braem, the proud father of a very young Joel, rose from his chair by the window and rushed over to where the young gryphon stood in the doorway. “Show me,” the aging gryphon said. He placed a firm claw on his son’s shoulder and gave Joel a small nudge back out of the house.
Prompted by his father’s calm direction Joel flew off towards the barn shouting over his shoulder, “She fell over and I can’t move her. I don’t know what’s wrong.” Braem followed his son with a sad smile.
Braem deftly unhinged the iron latch on the sheep pen once he reached the other side of the old wooden barn and joined his son by Old Maggie’s side. Fall had almost touched Carren’s Stead and Old Maggie’s woolen coat had just begun to grow in. "A shame," Braem muttered, "Old Maggie always did give a good amount of wool."
"What was that Papa?" Joel cocked his head not quite having heard what his father had said.
"It was nothing. At least... nothing important," Braem added. "Joel, will you unlock the barn for me? I need to carry Old Maggie inside.”
“Why is she on her side Papa? None of the other sheep are lying down.” Joel's young eyes were filled with confusion.
Braem knelt by his son and again touched Joel on the shoulder. "I'll explain in a moment," the elder gryphon assured Joel.
Joel glanced briefly at his father before returning his gaze to the motionless sheep. "But..."
Braem took the bottom of Joel’s beak in his talons, forcing the young gryphon to look him in the eyes, and firmly asked again, “Joel, I want to help Old Maggie into the barn. Will you go open the door?”
Joel hesitated, but nodded and rushed off to undo the wooden latches on the barn door. Braem stayed kneeling for a moment to watch the boy run off. This was the first year Joel was old enough to help Braem with the sheep and he was learning fast. Braem loved his boy and loved teaching him to be a shepherd, but this was not a lesson he was looking forward to teaching.
Braem scooped Old Maggie up onto his back and turned towards the barn. Approaching the open door Braem motioned with his head for Joel to enter the barn first. The barn was dark with only one door open so Joel rushed over to the other doors to let in more light. The old gryphon stepped carefully across the old hay and bits of detritus on the floor as he made his way to the only stall not filled with rusting tools. Braem gently set Old Maggie down on his worktable as Joel ran over to join him.
“Papa, Old Maggie still isn't moving. I thought bringing her inside would help her!”
Braem frowned gently down at his son. Tears were beginning to shine in Joel’s eyes and his small face was creased in fear and concern. Braem glanced once at Old Maggie to make sure she was seated well on the table then knelt down to face his son.
“Joel, Old Maggie isn’t going to be moving anymore. “
“Is she sleeping? It’s the middle of the day.” Joel tried to peer up over the edge of the worktable to look at the sheep. Braem closed his eyes and frowned.
“Old Maggie isn’t going to wake up ever again Joel. You’re not going to be able to see her anymore.”
“You mean like Miss Harfor in town?”
Joel’s eyes still held tears but now his frown was one of concentration. Joel was a bright little boy. He would understand what this meant.
“Just like Miss Harfor, Joel. When people and animals get old they go somewhere else and leave their bodies behind. We don’t get to see them anymore.”
“Is Old Maggie sad?”
“No Joel, I think that Old Maggie is very happy wherever she is.”
A small smile crossed Joel’s beak. “That’s good. Old Maggie was a happy sheep and I’m glad she’s still happy.”
“Let's go back into the house Joel. I just borrowed a new book from the inn that I want to show you.”
“Ok Papa.” Joel stood back onto his hind paws to reach over the table and stroke Old Maggie’s nose. “Goodbye Old Maggie. I’m glad you’re still happy.”
Braem closed the doors of the barn behind him as the pair headed to the house. He was proud of his son. Joel had taken that explanation very well. Braem knew that he had a long afternoon of hauling Old Maggie into town to be butchered ahead of him, but for now he just wanted to spend a few peaceful moments with his son.
At the doorway of the house Joel turned to face Braem with a puzzled frown on his face.
“What’s it called," the child asked, "when people go away like Old Maggie and Miss Harfor?”
Braem paused for a moment, taking a good long look at Joel's innocent face before answering.
“It’s called death Joel. Let's go take a look at that book.”
~~~
Joel was up before the sun, as was his habit since before he'd joined the army, and ready to travel when the first golden sliver of sunrise peaked over the valley wall. Joel had donned his old leisure clothes from before his days in the Princess’s army in preparation for his return to Carren’s Stead. A plain brown jacket over a clean white shirt complimented Joel’s dark grey cloak to create a ruggedly handsome figure. None of the clothing was expensive or extravagant, but it fit well and was made from good cloth.
Joel cast another glance around his camp to make sure he had removed all signs of his passage. Satisfied, Joel nodded to himself and turned around to face Dancer and the road ahead.
“You ready to see my home?” Joel whispered more to himself than to Dancer.
Dancer merely nodded and waited patiently for Joel to check one last time that he had everything he needed. Once he was certain he was absolutely ready the pair turned towards the Cealeon Road and the last stretch of their journey. Joel cast his eyes about warily in an attempt to watch the whole of his surroundings at once while striding safely next to Dancer. Although his vigilance never ceased he did not travel with his bow at the ready for the first time since leaving the army at the gates of Cealeon City. Tonight he planned on taking his separation from the army a step further by sleeping in a real bed and eating a dinner that did not need to be caught and cooked over a fire.
Despite his vigilance Joel was able to walk rather easily and contemplate what might happen when he reached the town that he had left years before. Before joining up with the Princess’s army Joel had known that Carren’s Stead was small and remote, but he had not been prepared for how very unknown his home was. The closest Joel had been to getting any news of his home was from rumors in Cealeon more than a hundred miles from the foothills of the Green Mountains. Apparently merchants had stopped traveling up to Carren’s Stead to bring trade and news around the same time Joel had left. At the time he didn't give it much thought since rock slides were a common occurrence for the isolated town. Merchants would be unable to reach the valley until the roads were cleared.
Joel supposed that he might go back to his father’s farm and try to pick the skills of a shepherd back up. Joel had spent the miles on the Cealeon Road hoping that the town would still be as he remembered it from his childhood. He knew that he had left on a sour note, but after being gone for so long all of Joel’s remaining memories of home were good ones. The gryphon only hoped the same could be said for the town's memories of him.
The sun was still a fair distance from its peak when Joel began to recognize some of the trees on the side of the road. They had never gone too far, only a few miles at most, but Joel and his friends had spent many long days exploring the forest near the head of the valley playing among the trees and learning the woods. Joel motioned for Dancer to stop. He took a moment to gaze at the familiar forms of the trees. No matter what else might have changed at home the trees were still the same. If the forest hadn’t changed then maybe the village hadn’t either. Comforted by the familiarity Joel turned back to the road and prepared to arrive at Carren’s Stead.
~~~
The sun beat down on Korrd’s back causing streams of sweat to rush down his withers. He and Joel had been working all morning to bring enough logs into the Carren’s Stead for the evening's festivities. The evening bonfire every year in celebration of the Sun’s Day had always been Korrd’s favorite event of the holiday. This year he was working with Joel to make sure that the bonfire would be unlike any the village had ever experienced before. The pile of logs had been growing behind the inn since early morning and the gnarled trunk supported between the two gryphons was planned to be one of the last few to be added.
The young gryphons still had a long way yet before they got back to the village with their burden and Korrd was starting to get tired. Glancing sideways at the glacial creek they were following Korrd called over his shoulder to Joel, “Hey buddy, let’s rest a bit.”
With a grunt of affirmation Joel slowed to a halt and said, “Set it down on three: One two three!” Both gryphons heaved a sigh of relief as the weight dropped from their shoulders.
With the log resting safely next to the path Korrd stepped out for the water. The temperature of the air was just hot enough to make the frigid glacial melt seem refreshing rather than biting and Korrd dunked his whole head into a small pool straight away. Sitting back, Korrd grinned sideways at his companion who was also dripping wet. Korrd and Joel sat there for a long moment grinning and drinking in each other’s wet excitement. Joel was the first to break away and lie back on the soft meadow grass.
The stream's soft gurgle dampened the sounds of the birds flitting through the surrounding pines. Lying on his back Korrd could just make out the tops of the valley’s cliffs over the edge of the clearing. Joel always boasted that he could climb straight up those smooth rock walls without the use of his wings, but Korrd had never believed it was possible. He thought it was just another one of Joel's fanciful dreams. The air felt still against Korrd’s cheeks and he closed his eyes for just a moment to feel the sunlight drying his feathers.
“Did you hear about the bard? “ Joel suddenly asked through the still air.
Korrd opened his eyes to look back into the sky before answering. “Yeah I heard he came in last night.”
“I hope he has new stories for us. I’m tired of the old ones. I want something exciting.”
Korrd glanced sideways at Joel. Whenever he talked about the stories from the lowlands Joel’s voice always changed to a serious half-whisper and his eyes could have sparked a fire with their intense brightness. Korrd closed his eyes again and turned back to the sun.
It was no secret among the village youth that Joel wasn't happy staying in Carren’s Stead. Almost all he ever talked about was flying up over the valley walls or actually hiking out of the Green Mountains to look for an adventure. Korrd laughed quietly. Leaving the mountains was a ridiculous notion at best. All Korrd knew, all Korrd *wanted to know, was that the world outside the valley was hostile and cruel while the valley itself was safe and peaceful. Only a fool would want to leave.*
Then again Joel had never seemed a fool and he wanted to leave.
After a few more moments Korrd and Joel rose and resumed their trek downhill with their burden. In short order they emerged from the woods next to Carren’s Stead and turned to head for the inn. Carren’s Stead didn’t look like much from the hill overlooking the village square. A dozen small buildings, none of them over a single story high, each topped by thatched roofs gathered in a rough circle around the small well that had provided Carren’s Stead with water since before anyone still living could remember. The inn stood at the south end of the square. The village elders spent their evenings sitting on the large back porch of the inn in handmade rocking chairs while gazing up at the valley’s cirque high overhead.
Korrd and Joel skirted around the edge of the square to avoid making a commotion with their log. Korrd stretched out his back and turned to face the inn after depositing the log in the pile along with the others.
"Let's go see if we can get us something to drink."
"Hah! You just wanna go see Danna. Don’t you Korrd?" Joel ran a quick circle around his friend administering light ribbings as he went. "Fine, fine," Joel eventually relented. "I could do with a drink myself."
Korrd smiled at Joel’s teasing and silently put up with the abuse. It was true he was tired and thirsty, but he also wanted to see Danna. Danna, the innkeeper’s daughter, was the only pretty girl anywhere near the Green Mountains and she was Korrd’s. Korrd put up with Joel’s snide comments about him and Danna because he knew that with Danna promised to him Joel’s selection was narrowed to an almost nonexistent number of younger girls who already looked like their generously sized mothers.
The inn’s dining room was empty, as it always was at midday, so Korrd and Joel slipped right through to the kitchen. The kitchen, on the other hand, was anything but quiet. Half of the town’s women bustled back and forth between the two brick ovens and the large preparation table in the center of the room. While almost every family would be providing some appetizer or dessert to the night’s feast the largest entrees would be coming out of the inn.
Joel backed away from the kitchen leaving Korrd to stand in the doorway straining to catch a glimpse of Danna over the heads of the other women. After a moment of waiting he spotted Danna enter the bustle through the side door and hurry to help at one of the ovens. Korrd called out to her over the din and Danna turned to the doorway with a scowl that made ice look warm. When she saw Korrd standing in the doorway her scowl quickly vanished and she began to make her way over through the women.
“Sorry about that Korrd. Thought you were someone else.” Danna fluttered her wings and cocking her head in a way that emphasized her beauty. “You just come in here to see little ol' me or was there something you wanted?”
Korrd looked up over Danna’s shoulder at the cooking. Something in the busy room smelled amazing, but he couldn't tell exactly what it was nor could he pinpoint the aroma's source. “Joel and I thought we’d take a break from hauling logs and see if you might get us something nice to drink. He’s out in the dining room now.” Korrd jerked a thumb over his shoulder in his friend's general direction while still trying to determine the source of the smell.
“Anything for you Korrd. I’ll see what I can do.” Danna batted her eyelashes up at Korrd before sinuously pulling away from him and plunging back into the throng of cooking women.
It took Korrd a moment to realize she was gone before he turned back towards the dining room. Korrd was taken aback when he stepped around the corner into the dining room to find Joel talking to two people, a gryphon and a pony, who he was sure hadn’t been in the room before.
The one that seemed to be doing most, if not all, of the talking was the pony. He was a skinny fellow dressed in a flamboyant cloak so red that it made the most brilliant mountain flowers seem pale and dry by comparison. He was leaning forward across a table from Joel gesturing grandly with the entirety of his arms while he spoke. His companion had pulled a chair away from the table in order to sit facing both Joel and the doorway. This gryphon was dressed plainly in greys and browns, well cut, but without decoration. His face was crossed over with old silver scars and he wore a long sword at his hip as though the weapon were part of his body.
Eyeing the sword Korrd made his way over to where Joel was sitting across from the two strangers. Korrd caught Joel’s eye as he approached and raised his eyebrow in question. The caped pony leapt out of his chair before Joel had a chance to acknowledge Korrd and made an extravagant bow and cape flourish.
“Aha! You must be Master Korrd. Master Joel was just telling us of your contributions to tonight’s preparations. Quite the effort you all put into this holiday. I've seen cities that only put a fraction of the time you do into the Sun's Day preparations. Ah! But where are my manners?" The pony smacked himself on the head. "Allow me to introduce myself. I am known as Farcical Thespis, storyteller and performer extraordinaire. Thesp to my friends; among whose ranks I soon hope to count both yourself and your fine friend here.” Farcical slid backwards and opened his arms in a gesture towards his seated companion. “This is my traveling companion and trusted friend Bodewin Meyr. A better gryphon to have at one’s side through the ordeals of dangerous travel I have never met.” Farcical slid back into his chair with another flourish that set his cape floating down over the back of the chair and left Korrd with his beak half open.
“Korrd, mister Thesp is the bard we heard about.” Joel’s face was shining with excitement. “He’s promised us the most fantastic show we've ever seen at tonight’s fire.”
Korrd did believe that Joel was genuinely excited for the show, but he could see Joel snatching glances at Bodewin’s sword out of the corners of his eyes. Korrd and Joel would often play at swords with sturdy tree branches, but neither of them had seen a real sword since a merchant’s guard had brought one to Carren’s Stead when they were small children. Whenever Joel talked about leaving the valley he would always talk about learning the art of the sword and fighting in grand battles against heinous foes. Korrd could guess that Joel would rather hear the stories behind Bodewin’s scars than any historical tales that Farcical might tell.
Noise from the bustling kitchen briefly penetrated into the dining room as Danna came in carrying a tray of tall mugs. Before she was halfway to the table she stopped short. She shifted her glare back and forth between Farcical and Bodewin with disapproval prominent in her expression. Danna stepped forward to set the mugs on the table and addressed the bard and his companion. “I hope you two aren’t making any trouble for these two young gryphons. They already have enough fool notions in their heads without you giving them ideas.”
Joel grinned up at Danna with a quick reply, “I doubt that mister Thesp could give me any ideas I haven’t had myself Danna. I do have quite a good many ideas.” Danna scowled at Joel's use of the bard's nickname but said nothing.
“Just don’t go running off on some fool adventure while I've got my back turned,” she spat. Danna spun back towards the kitchen without so much as a smile for Korrd.
“Your friend seems like quite the hoofful,” Farcical commented. He watched Danna’s retreating form until she disappeared back into the kitchen before turning to face Joel and Korrd. “She seemed most displeased with the little proposition we were discussing with the innkeeper last night. Got all uppity when we mentioned...” Farcical trailed off and suddenly seemed to find the brooch of his cape fully engrossing.
“Oh come now.” Joel leaned forward over the table trying to get a better look at Farcical’s face. “Korrd and I aren't stupid. We know you've got something big up your sleeve. Spill it!” Korrd agreed that the pony seemed to be hiding something. No one found a brooch *that interesting.*
Korrd reached forward to take one of the mugs. “You've got my attention sir. What are you hiding from us?”
Bodewin leaned over slightly to whisper into Farcical’s ear. The pony listened for a moment and nodded once in agreement before returning his focus to Joel and Korrd.
“Bodewin seems to think that the two of you might be interested in some news we have to offer.” Farcical leaned forward slightly to better monitor the two gryphons' reactions. “Before we began our trip up into the Green Mountains we were approached by a high ranking member of the Princess’s army. She asked us to look out for fresh recruits as we traveled through the countryside. The domain is in danger! Word is the Dark Queen is on the move once again. Strong eager young bodies are in high demand right now.” Farcical exchanged a quick glance with Bodewin and leaned back into his chair. “Might either of you boys be interested in an adventure?”
“I can see why Danna was cross with you mister Farcical," Korrd remarked. His interest quickly dissipating once he realized what the pony's proposition was. "We don’t have any need for fighting or adventuring here in Carren’s Stead and we certainly don’t need to get involved in fighting that doesn't involve us.” Korrd looked over at Joel. “Isn’t that right Joel? We don’t need any war here.”
Hearing his name seemed to snap Joel out of a daze. He looked sideways at Korrd with a small furrow in his dark eyebrows. “Right. Yeah. We don’t want a war here.” Joel returned his eyes to Farcical who now examined Joel alone. “But an adventure... an adventure to where?”
“To anywhere you might desire Master Joel.” Farcical stood again, swirling his cloak behind his neck to gesture up at the ceiling. “The Princess’s army journeys far and wide. From the blistering Herrid Wastes to the very coasts of the Ivory Sea itself! Master Joel, I do believe you might like to hear some stories of the Princess’s army’s most recent exploits. Perhaps in a quieter setting?” Farcical finished gesturing about the silent dining room to probe Joel with his eyes.
Korrd had had enough of this grand talk of leaving home. He didn’t want to leave Carren’s Stead and the Green Mountains and he knew that Joel was sensible enough to not join any army. At lease he thought Joel was sensible enough.
Korrd made to rise, but Joel caught his arm stopping him halfway out of the chair. “Come listen to these tales with me Korrd. I want to hear what the army is like.”
“No Joel. I've heard enough of Farcical’s proposition to know that I don’t want anything to do with it. Leaving home to join this 'Princesses’s army' sounds like a bad idea.” Korrd pulled his arm free of Joel’s grasp and left his friend sitting at the table with Farcical and Bodewin.
As Korrd was leaving the inn through the front door he heard Farcical addressing Joel, “So Master Joel, what would you like to know about the Princess’s army?”
“Tell me everything." Korrd didn't have to see it to know that Joel's eyes were burning with the same fiery intensity they got whenever he spoke of adventure. "Where do I sign up?”
That evening Korrd laughed and celebrated the Sun’s Day along with Joel and the rest of the town. In the morning Farcical, Bodewin, and Joel were all gone from the village. No one had seen them leave.
~~~
The steady plodding of Dancer’s hooves was the only sound on the still air. Joel was not far from the large clearing surrounding Carren’s Stead and he had stopped humming old tunes to himself or looking around at the familiar sights, electing instead to stare straight ahead with eyes whose intensity had burned out long ago towards the next bend in the road. The woods had grown quiet for the last few miles approaching the village and Joel was beginning to feel uneasy.
Joel had decided that he would head for the inn upon arriving in town, but his plan hadn't advanced past that yet. For years he had convinced himself that leaving the village with that no-good scoundrel of a bard and his tough companion without so much as a single goodbye had been the right decision. The world was a big place and he had seen so much of it and experienced so many wonders and so many pains since he had left. He had spent almost his entire career climbing the ranks of the Princess’s army without looking back at his past in Carren’s Stead.
But then the war ended. After more than a decade of fighting against the Dark Queen of the Night there was finally peace and the army was left without a purpose. It was in those days, the days of aimless peacekeeping, desertion, and malcontent, that Joel first began to think of returning home. Now here he was and all he had was a vague sense of wanting to regain something that he hadn't realized was missing in the first place.
The road ran straight ahead of Joel now and he could see a break in the trees that marked the Carren’s Stead clearing. Dancer shifted her walk slightly to move a tiny bit closer to Joel. He found a small comfort in her closeness and passed her a grateful glance. Dancer was a good friend. She was very in tune with the state of Joel's well-being. If Dancer sensed that Joel was nervous she would move to help him. Not much could make Joel nervous anymore, but he definitely wouldn't describe himself as being perfectly calm at that moment.
Joel emerged from the trees and immediately pulled to a stop beside the road. There wasn't much remaining of the buildings that Joel expected to see, and what was left was black and charred. Soft mountain grass and flowers crawled over the once smooth town square and crept into the broken doorways of the burnt shells. Joel moved forward at a slow walk between the blackened husks with Dancer close behind. As he drew closer to the wreckage he could see that the old well in the middle of the square had been toppled over and filled in with stones and dirt. All that was apparent to Joel was that the fire had been a long time ago.
Joel glanced at Dancer once the pair reached the toppled well. “Don’t get too comfortable Dancer. I don’t think we’ll be staying so long after all.” Joel cast his eyes around the burnt out buildings looking for something, anything, which might give him a hint as to what had happened. Carren’s Stead had been here in the mountains for almost a hundred years with nothing extraordinary ever happening more than an exceptionally cold winter or two. When he looked through the husk of the inn Joel thought he might be able to see a bit of roofing left over the wide back porch where the village elders used to sit. “Wait here a moment,” Joel told Dancer and headed for the inn.
Nothing was left that might show what the old building had once been other than its sheer size. Nothing was left of the big dining room tables where happy families and weary travelers had once enjoyed a hot dinner. Joel could see clumps of flowers growing over small mounds where the ovens used to be. The porch was the only place in the village that had a wooden roof instead of thatching. Even that sturdy wooden roof, the one structure in town expected to outlast every other, was gone. The inn was entirely open to the sky.
Joel walked all the way through the inn and out onto the unkempt lawn behind it where he sat down in the grass. Looking up at the high cirque Joel wept. He wept for the loss of his home. He wept for the people that were no longer here. He wept for the peaceful life in Carren’s stead that he would never have anymore. After a long minute Joel rolled onto his back and closed his eyes to listen to the silence of the graveyard that was Carren’s Stead.
When Joel re-opened his eyes the sun had already sunk down below the high valley walls and the rose sunset was beginning to fade from the cirque. Joel hadn't noticed when Dancer had joined him, but his gentle stirring caused her to rise. Joel rose with her to walk back through the burnt out inn to the ruins of the well. Dancer approached him comfortingly and he looked up from a clump of small white flowers when she nuzzled his arm gently.
Joel shook his head and turned away from the ruined square. “Come on. We’ll camp by the trees. This isn't where we’re stopping after all.”
In the morning Joel said his final goodbye to the valley. He looked one more time at the high cliffs overlooking the ruins then turned to walk away and never looked back again.
