Heights
916 Words
Heights~
Calum Iverach
Dundarien, Aleron
At breakfast the next morning, lack of sleep and a stabbing pain behind his eyes conspired to dull his wits. Too slow to invent an excuse, Calum found himself accepting Gaven’s invitation to ride out and see more of Dundarien. He tamped down his irritation, feigning interest as his brother-in-law pointed out one thing after another he couldn’t care less about. He squinted in the bright sunlight and wished it would rain.
“I gave some thought to the fort,” Gaven was saying.
Calum tried to care. Fort? Ah yes, Cleland’s project.
“A Rhynn Watch might cut down on reiving and tit-for-tat skirmishes between the smaller clans. We’d get a chance to gain some respect from the Royal Army. Maybe change some prejudices when they see we aren’t the barbarians we’re made out to be.”
Calum snapped out of his fog. Gaven wasn’t afraid of stating his opinion, given ample time to commit to one.
“Agreed,” he said. “And it could bring some of the coin we send down to Jorendon back here to Rhynn.”
“We get precious little benefit from it, as it is.” Gaven leaned back in his saddle. “Have you decided yet?”
“Decided what?”
“Whether there’s any substance between my ears.”
Calum wasn’t sharp enough to dance around an answer.
“I’m guilty of doubting it, I admit. You proved me wrong.”
“Thinking’s easier when you aren’t hungover.” Gaven laughed and rode on.
Calum pulled alongside him and paid more attention to whatever it was the man continued pointing out to him. His headache eased a bit, and he found himself enjoying the ride. Dundarien was an impressive estate. Rosalee would not lack the better things in life here.
“Bess and the daor managed to agree on something,” said Gaven.
“That’s a first.”
“She’ll be staying at Dundarien. Daor Ranald will go on to Glenayre with you and take a post with Seth and Isobel.”
Calum was tempted to argue, thinking Gaven would benefit more from Ranald’s counsel, but maybe it was for the best. After the fireworks incident, Dundarien was leery of the daor. Ranald’s experimental finale was meant to burn Iverach blue and Aleron red. Instead, it left his eyebrows singed and many a scorched spot in the guests’ wedding finery.
Yes, Glenayre would be more receptive to the good daor.
The path took a slight incline when they passed the castle’s upper walls. The slope grew steeper, but the horses from Dundarien’s stable managed it with the ease of experience.
“This is as far as we take the horses.” Gaven wrapped his reins around a branch. “We make the rest of the climb on foot.”
Gaven set off down a footpath through the sparse trees and bushes. The climb was steeper than Calum expected, and he was getting a bit winded when the path widened and leveled. Gaven disappeared around a boulder, and he followed.
Calum’s heart dropped to the pit of his stomach. He pressed his back against the rocks. The windy ledge atop a sheer cliff on the eastern face of Mount Yonah overlooked a panoramic vista of Redmist peaks and valleys. The outcrop was about ten by twelve feet, an overhang not quite a cave.
Gaven nonchalantly walked to the edge and plopped down, dangling his feet as if he were sitting on the back of a wagon instead of above a thousand-foot drop. He patted the spot beside him.
“Come on. I won’t push you.”
Calum disliked heights. He disliked admitting it even more. He gritted his teeth and sidled out toward the edge.
“See the glint there? That’s Lake Raven.” Gaven leaned farther out than was sane, by Calum’s estimation. “The fishing is well worth the ride. Along there, that’s the River Tad.” His finger traced the foothills. “Over on that mountain. The tower with the red roof. That’s Glenayre.”
Calum shaded his eyes. “I don’t see any tower.”
Gaven opened a leather case on his belt and pulled out a brass telescope. It was a handsome three-draw with brass filigree over burgundy leather on the barrel.
“Try with this.”
Calum peered through the eyepiece. The sharpness astonished him. He could indeed make out a few red roofs in the distance. He gave an appreciative whistle.
“The focus is the tightest I’ve seen. Where did you get this?” he asked, envious.
“Wedding gift from my father. He bought it in an optician’s shop in Ellard. Said it came from Tallu.” Gaven pointed to the valley below their feet. “Our captains are out for a tour.”
Calum aimed the spyglass down. Sure enough, he spotted the three riders. The square one was Captain Lyn. The hatless one was Ranald. The stout third must be Dundarien’s captain.
“Captain Royce is taking them out to see the winter herds.”
“How do you see so well without this?”
“Don’t know. I just do.”
Calum shifted the spyglass again. Sunlight danced across Lake Raven. Red-coated cattle grazed beside the river. A lone hawk swooped low over the valley.
Reluctantly, he lowered the eyepiece and handed the exquisite instrument back to Gaven.
“This is my favorite place. A man can be a real hawk here.” Gaven folded the spyglass back into its case. “I brought Rosalee here our first morning at Dundarien.”
“Rosalee? Rosalee sat here and didn’t faint?”
“Rosalee isn’t weak. She’s smart and funny. She hid in a shell because it was safe.” Gaven’s jaw twitched. “Only a coward hits a woman.”
Calum didn’t respond. He never defended Dowan. He never excused him.
“I shouldn’t have said that,” said Gaven. “He was your father.”
“No need to apologize for speaking the truth.”
They sat in companionable quiet, perched on the top of the earth. Calum breathed in the power of the place. Watching the world from a distance made it seem almost manageable.
Gaven leaned back on his elbows. “Married life agrees with me. Well enough I’m recommending it to others. What about you, Calum?”
“There’s no rush. I’m still young, despite all the titles.”
“That’s not the whole truth. You’re afraid you’ll be like him.”
Calum stared at his hands. So like Dowan’s hands.
“It’s not a chance I’m ready to take.”
Chapter 35
- Writer
