Mountain Refuge

[FOTH]

Icefire and Paradox, yes, you're both right about grace and forgiveness, unearned gifts which are freely given by our Savior. Einar understands this, but when it comes to forgiving himself for things he didn't do, and believes he should have done--that's the really difficult part.

Suvalley, indeed Muninn's arrival is most welcome!


Thank you all for reading.

[FOTH]

Einar had heard it, all of it, though in strange, distorted snatches which left him filling in the blanks as he struggled to wake, sure that Kilgore was about to stick him with an IV full of poison that would paralyze him all over again and leave him unable to resist whatever was to come next. At least Liz, his own dear Liz had objected, refused to go along with whatever nefarious plot the tracker was now attempting to implement; he’d heard her do it, loved her for that, wished he could wake up and tell her so—and stay awake, too, lest while she wasn’t looking, Kilgore should sneak up and stick him with a needle of some sort. Gave it all his strength then, the effort to wake, to rise, succeeding only in partially swinging one leg off the couch and painfully wrenching his already injured hip. Good. Progress. Sure not going to sleep again with things hurting like that, and he didn’t, but had not counted on the effect brought upon him by the effort of raising his head. World went black, one fleeting glimpse all allowed him between first getting his eyes open and the darkness swallowing him once more. Fighting it all the way down he struggled to hang onto just one thing, the sound of Will babbling and playing in the background, hoping this might help keep him in the present, allow him a quicker return to wakefulness, but eventually it, too, faded, world silent as well as dark.

Waking, knowing something was wrong, not entirely remembering what, but he was pretty sure it had to do with the guards, and the fact that they would soon be returning. Had to keep still. Make sure they didn’t know he was awake, preserve the element of surprise, for in it lay his only hope, and a slight one at that. Would probably be more than one of them, and even if he succeeded at taking the first one out, the second would have him. Unless he could seize the first man’s pistol. That might give him a chance, though it would also attract unwanted and potentially unaffordable attention. Well. No good option, must take the one before him, wherever it led. And soon, too, for he heard the approach of footsteps, slow, measured, sounding strangely soft, muffled, and with them was no swish and splash of water, as he had grown accustomed to hearing. Nearing. Almost time. Silently, keeping still, he gathered himself. Ready to make his move….

When the raven stretched out his wings and began sounding his rasping alarm, he tended to make quite an imposing figure, and this is exactly what he did as Susan approached the couch where Einar lay, the bird taking some objection to her sudden presence and making his voice heard quite clearly there in the confines of the house. Several things then happened simultaneously, Susan backing off so as to stop alarming the bird, Liz hurrying towards the source of the commotion and Einar surprising everyone by quite literally leaping to his feet, making a sudden and startlingly agile dive across the living room, rolling and ending up flat on his stomach behind a chair. After this nobody moved for a moment, Kilgore watching attentively as both women, one youngster and a raven stared at Einar, the latter blinking, shaking his head and quickly suppressing the incongruous hint of a grin that began creeping across his face at sight of the bird. Moving cautiously as if more than half expecting one or more of the other humans in the room to rush him at any moment, he slowly got to his feet, limping over and holding out an arm to the raven.

Chortling a soft greeting the bird hopped heavily onto Einar’s outstretched arm where he would have easily knocked the man over, had he not been ready.

Fighting to catch his breath after the sudden exertion of waking at a dead run as he had done, Einar grinned at the bird, shaking his head. “Where’ve you been, you old vulture? Could have used you here, you know? Stick around for a while, why don’t you?” The raven, sensing Einar’s unbalance and the fact that he was not far from falling even before the man recognized the trouble, took a quick hop back over onto the top of the couch, chortling happily as Einar sank down and sat. The family was whole and entire again, everything right with his world.

Einar sat silently, surveying the room, looking suspicious. Liz knew he had heard, feared for a moment what he might do should he be able to make his way over to the chair where Kilgore now sat over beside the kitchen island, but she need not have been terribly concerned, for the raven made his move before Einar could gather the strength to make one of his own, hopping onto his shoulder and chortling in his ear. Einar smiled, slouched a bit and leaned back, looking more relaxed than he had done since arriving at the house. Everyone—other, perhaps, than the tracker, who had never been particularly worried in the first place—breathed a sigh of relief, trouble averted at least for the moment, and when Susan brought Einar a cup of water, he took it and, after a brief but thorough inspection, drained it in one big gulp.

“Good stuff. Thanks.”

“There’s more…”

“Later. Right now need to…just need to get up and try to…”

On his feet again, moving a bit unsteadily about the room, Einar headed for the spiral staircase, climbing it as quickly as he was able before heading down to do it all over again. Five times he repeated this exercise, more determined than ever to work off whatever remained in his system of the dart-poison, wanting to eliminate it before Kilgore could hit him with anything else. Wanted to try for a sixth ascent, but at the bottom of number five found himself so dizzy and out of breath that it was very nearly more than he could manage to lower himself quickly and unceremoniously to the floor at the bottom of the stairs, narrowly avoiding a fall. Will, having given up for the moment his quest to remove one by one the tail feathers of the raven, hurriedly crawled over to his father, using him as a support as he pulled himself to his feet.

“Walking better than I am, aren’t you, little one? Funny thing this life is. What do you think? Lots to explore here in this new place, isn’t there? Especially for a fella like you, who’s never seem most of this stuff before. Long way from our basin, aren’t we? Not where I really want to be right now, but until it storms real good so we can move on without leaving too many tracks…well, you might as well settle in best as you can and enjoy it, because it looks like we’re gonna be here for a little while. Yep. Might as well try and be patient, you and me. And the bird. Got a deal?”

Will did not answer, having climbed onto his father’s lap and settled in for a nap, worn out by the excitement of so much exploration and discovery, and Einar watched him in wonder for a moment before laying a reluctant hand on the sleeping child’s head, his own eyes distant.

[suvalley]

Author, dear author, where are you?

I'm missing my fix, in this amazing saga

[FOTH]

Mar 29, 2013 11:32:39 GMT -6 suvalley said:

Author, dear author, where are you?

I'm missing my fix, in this amazing saga

Sorry, I'm here, more or less...

Next chapter coming right up.

________________________


With Einar seeming content to remain where he was so long as Will slept and Kilgore keeping silent guard over the situation from his post on a stool by the counter, Liz felt free to join Susan in the kitchen, where the two of them worked to put the finishing touches on a casserole she was preparing for supper.

Since his most recent waking, one had said anything about Einar’s missing weapons, including Einar himself, who was far too thoroughly occupied to go and look, nearly the entirety of his attention being devoted to keeping himself upright so as to avoid spilling the sleeping Will. He did not especially care for the situation, wanted instead to be watching out one window or another, if he could not be outside, but as he saw that both Kilgore and the raven were doing this, the situation proved to be at least marginally tolerable. As for weapons, he was certain a variety of knives were to be found in the kitchen, and both Susan and Liz had pistols. Would have greatly preferred to have something on his person, but at least it was a start, should things turn serious. Again. The rest, he would solve at the first opportunity, but so long as Will lay sleeping on his lap, he had no plans to go anywhere.

Bud, on the other hand, had places to go, and knew he must, despite a great reluctance, be leaving before too long. They were holding a memorial service for Juni down at the firehouse that evening, everyone who had been involved in the search, and as the one who had officially “found” and retrieved her, he could hardly skip the event without arousing a good deal of unwanted suspicion. And besides, the family wanted to talk with him. He’d talked to a lot of families over the years, been to a fair number of similar remembrances even after leaving active duty, guys who’d made it back from one conflict or another only to be taken far too soon—from the human perspective, at least—by one thing or another. Cancer, all too often, or guys perishing at their own hand, and though in both cases everyone more or less knew why, the matter was seldom spoken of, at least amongst Bud’s peers. Simply another life to be remembered, another flag, another name that really should, in the end, have been on the Wall.

Einar had not gone to many such memorials, had been traveling the world with one job or another for years as the men he’d served with left this life, and later he’d been living out in the hills without much human contact at all, where more often than not he’d never even known until years later that people were gone… A few times he had sat vigil with those who were leaving, including several months spent with a friend during the last stages of a long struggle with cancer, helping him when he wanted it and fading off into the hills when he wished instead to be alone, and when the end came, making sure his final wishes were carried out. Which included covertly burying him on a remote corner of his own land early one morning, facing east to watch the rising sun and, as the man had put it, to await the glorious return of his Savior. A difficult time, to be sure, but not a bad one, for either of them.

During combat, there had been no time to say goodbye, to stop and think about any of it, you just stopped the bleeding best as you could, loaded them up on choppers for the risky evac. and often as not never even knew if they’d made it, and those who you knew didn’t make it because you had been there to see it happen…well, you didn’t really have time to say goodbye to them, either, because most of the time you were still in the thick of things, or would be again the following night, or the day after, and could not afford to allow yourself to think about such things. To be distracted. Bogged down. It would have led to your destruction, and to that of those around you, which was the last thing you wanted… So they were gone, and you went on, and that was it. Might think about it later, years later, when the nights were unbearably quiet, still, and you were alone with your mind and your memories, or when something reminded you, took you back, body and soul, to some forsaken jungle hillside, the distant rumble of a helicopter, the boom and blast of fireworks as civilization celebrated one thing or another…but even then, it was probably better not to. Not if you could help it. So in most cases he hadn’t, but a person cannot always help it, and sometimes late at night those faces would come to him, those moments in time, lives that in many cases had really never even properly got their start before they’d been ended. These were the things that filled Einar’s mind as he watched Kilgore prepare to head down to the hill to Juni’s memorial.

Tracker heading for the door, Einar intercepted him, pressed into his hand a wolverine claw taken from the pouch around his neck, a perfect match, but for the missing loop of home-tanned buckskin, to the one worn around his own neck, Liz’s and the child’s. “She earned this. Leave it for her.”

Kilgore nodded. He’d find a way. Left, silent, not bothering to admonish Einar as to the necessity of proper behavior during his absence. Could see in the man’s eyes that he was at the moment wholly present, thinking, not likely to do anything too rash or irrevocable. Hoped things would stay that way, at least until he could make his return.

Bud gone and Will once more up exploring the house, Einar took the opportunity to once more make his way several times up and down the stairs, hoping the activity might help him burn off whatever remained of the dart-poison so he could be sure of his thinking once more, and hoping also to start seeing some improvement in his injured hip, which as the influence of the dart continued to decline, was making its presence ever more noticeably felt. Didn’t seem to be helping too much, in either regard. But he kept it up, repeating the circuit so many times that Liz eventually became concerned he might be about to fall down the stairs—not too far from the truth, though he hardly wanted to admit the fact to himself—took him by the arm and guided him to a seat on the couch. No way he’d stay there, she knew, not unless…

Will was happy to oblige in his mother’s plot to keep Einar seated for a time, but only when she’d provided him with a suitable incentive, which in this case took the form of a bowlful of thinly sliced strawberries. Knowing Will would make a dreadful mess if simply handed the bowl, she tasked Einar with feeding him, standing back and nearly laughing at the scene that ensued, Will delighted if impatient, and Einar’s brow furrowed in concentration at the effort required to get the berry slices into the little one’s mouth, instead of all over the furniture Perched above them and looming large as he watched with keen black eyes, the raven kept guard.

Liz’s plan worked for a while, kept Einar still so he could get a bit of rest and entertained Will, but eventually all the strawberries were gone, Will full—and full of energy—taking off to harass the cat and do a bit more exploring. Einar might have hauled himself up then to begin again his endless circuit of the stairs, but he’d stiffened up with the prolonged stillness, started, despite the reasonable warmth of the room, to grow terribly cold so that instead of immediately rising, he simply sat there staring out the window and shivering. Susan saw, tried to give him a blanket, but he shook his head.

“Fine like this. Best this way.”

“Why do you have to do this? Stay cold all the time?”

“Being warm makes me sleepy. And lazy. Got to be awake, ready. Never know what might be coming, down this close to…”

“To civilization? Yes, this must be very different for you, I can imagine. But there’s nothing lazy about being sleepy when you’re all worn out. You can sleep.”

That got a little half smile but no answer, and Susan could sense the futility of pressing the matter further.

“Getting some rest and a little more to eat, helping your body to be stronger and your mind quicker—won’t that do more to get you ready to defend your family than almost anything, when you really think about it?”

“Deprivation of various kinds does make my body stronger and my mind quicker. Works better than anything.”

“Not anymore, it doesn’t. You passed that point a good while back. That’s not what this is about anymore, is it, even if it once was…?”

[icefire]

“Not anymore, it doesn’t. You passed that point a good while back. That’s not what this is about anymore, is it, even if it once was…?”

Susan has definitely hit the nail on the head with that statement. If only Einar would TALK about it with SOMEONE, MAYBE he could start to work through things enough to allow himself to get enough food and rest to let his body recuperate.

[ebb]

I had thought that Junni was the one to finally get Einar to see the light. The past is the past and he keeps neglecting the present worrying about the past.

[FOTH]

Christ is risen!

I hope everyone has a blessed and joyous day, as we celebrate the Resurrection and the completion of our ransom from death!

There won't be a chapter today, but I'll be back tomorrow with another.

Thank you all for reading.

[ebb]

HE IS RISEN INDEED!! Have a wonderful day knowing sin has been defeated.

[FOTH]

Nearly half the town, it seemed, packed the firehouse that evening to bid farewell to Juniper Melton, who while not native to the area, had made quite an impression over the course of the few short years she’d spent in and around Culver Falls. Bud Kilgore, who hadn’t really wanted to speak but had known at the same time that he’d be unwise to refuse when asked by the head of Mountain Rescue to do so, remembered her to the crowd as one of his brightest and most able students, a young woman who loved the wild country and had devoted a great deal of time and energy to becoming familiar with its ways, just as she had done with her chosen field of journalism.

When later in the evening her parents began questioning him as to what he might know of the details of her final moments, he used the firm, steady manner and attendant quiet persuasion that had got him into—and out of—so many places over the years to assure them that yes, it had been quick, that slide and its aftermath, and no, she hadn’t misjudged when deciding to go out across the slope; even the most experienced can make mistakes, and sometimes, the mountains are simply unpredictable. Just like life.


Einar did not particularly want to answer Susan’s question, found it intrusive, prying, perhaps even a trap of one sort or another, but something in her mannerism and the way she asked—patient and knowing, if not necessarily understanding—left him a good deal less inclined than he might otherwise have been to turn away and keep silent. Susan wasn’t leaving, repeated her question, rephrased it.

“Surely you know you’re not being too realistic in thinking that by continuing to avoid getting food, water, rest, that you’re doing the best thing you can to help yourself get stronger. Those things may have their place, I know they do, and maybe more for you than for some people, but right now, they’re just slowing you down and easing you closer to the edge. You see that, don’t you? How close you are to not being here anymore, and how most of the things you’re doing right now are only making it worse…”

He shrugged, figuring he had little to lose in attempting an answer. “Sure. Sometimes I see it. Saw it in the mirror yesterday, and whenever I try to move quickly, and find that things aren’t responding the way they should. But always seem to convince myself I was mistaken, that the real problem is my allowing myself to get weak—mind, not body—and give in… And then I’m back to it again, with more resolve than ever.”

“That’s how it looks to me, too. That’s why I asked if it was really about thinking the deprivation will make your mind and body strong, at all. At this point. Because I don’t think it is. You can’t really believe that the things you’re doing make any sense at all for a man who’s trying to regain his health and strength so he can look after his family. Looks to me like that supposed weakness you mentioned, that ‘giving in,’ that’s what’s really behind a lot of your decisions right now. Wanting to avoid that. And you’ve come to see eating, resting, doing the very things you know you’ve got to do in order to have any chance of staying alive, as a compromise. As giving in. Haven’t you?”

Quiet, then. Not liking how close she’d come, wanting to be angry but finding, when he looked, nothing but sincerity in her eyes. No deception, no evil intent.

“Yes, seems I have.”

“And that prospect—of giving in—is worse to you than the thought of death, even. Must be, because you have to know that’s where your current course will lead, sooner or later…”

A long silence. “Maybe.”

“Maybe what?”

“Maybe, to both.”

“Yes. Do you think that’s reasonable? This fear of ‘giving in?’ And the power you allow it to have in your life?”

“I’m not afraid. And yes, it is entirely reasonable.”

“Why?”

A silent snarl, Einar glancing away so Susan would know it wasn’t entirely directed at her, but he needn’t have worried, for she already knew. Not talking about why. None of her business why, but it wasn’t any good, for apparently she already knew that, too, and wasn’t going to let him get off so easy. Wasn’t done.

“It’s because of the path you’ve walked through this life, isn’t it? Life teaches us things, and yours has taught you that one of the most important things is to resist, to not “give in,” as you put it. That you’ll be lost if you do that. Am I anywhere close to right?”

“Too close.”

“I know, not something you really want to talk about. But your little boy needs you to do it. He needs his father to teach him all about these mountains, about life, all sorts of things. And unless you can somehow untangle things in your head pretty quick here, he’s not going to have that, because what you’ve got going right now just isn’t compatible with life, in the long run. You’re going to have to pick one or the other pretty quickly, or you may not end up being the one who gets to do the picking. And no, I’m not talking about Bud and his darts, there… I know you’ve heard all of this before, but maybe now you can take the time to really stop and think about it, since you’re here and will be staying for a little while. Will you give that a try?”

Einar shrugged, shook his head, agreed in principle, but did not know how to do what she was asking.

[gipsysmith]

Well I have caught up. I have not the patience of Liz. I am hopping that EA gets some sense and soon or his antics will get them all killed.

[icefire]

Well, maybe Susan will be able to get through to Einar when no one else has been able to...

[FOTH]

Thank you all for reading. I don't have a chapter for tonight, but will tomorrow.

In the meantime, here is the view from the high country today:


Lingering clouds...




White faces...




Still lots of snow up high...




It's good to be alive.