“It was alright. But Gieaun and Scede are waiting out front,” Jahrra said, trying not to sound overly enthusiastic. “Remember, I’m going to Lake Ossar?”
Abdhe climbed down the ladder and scooped his daughter into his arms. “Oh, that’s right. I guess I’d better come in and say goodbye then.”
He carried her back to the house and set her down in the kitchen, taking a seat on one of the old kitchen chairs.
“Have you packed?” he asked seriously, looking at Jahrra through his wispy hair.
Jahrra’s eyes popped open and she turned and clambered up the stairs. Abdhe just chuckled, causing Lynhi to glance over at her husband with veiled eyes.
“What is it now?” he asked in a tone that declared he was used to this silent protesting from his wife.
“Are you sure it’s safe to send her there for the weekend? I know we’ve already discussed this a hundred times, but what if something happens, even with Nuhra and Kaihmen watching over her?”
Abdhe took out his pipe and carefully lit it. After taking a few puffs he glanced back at his wife. “She can’t be kept safe forever, and it’s only for the weekend. Jahrra deserves to enjoy her childhood while it lasts.”
“You’re probably right,” Lynhi sighed, getting back to her dusting. “But I can’t help but worry.”
Abdhe smiled. “It’s a mother’s job to worry.”
Jahrra scampered back down the stairs, complete with a small sack stuffed with what her parents could only imagine were her clothes.
Her father smiled and kissed her on the cheek. “Be careful my dear, and have a good time.”
Jahrra then turned to her mother, who gave her a hug. “Come home soon.”
“I will,” said Jahrra, and then added cheerfully, “I’ll only be gone for a few days!”
Jahrra fled out the door and flew down the path, eagerly joining her friends before Dharedth coaxed his horse into an easy gait. A wiggling, barking pack of dogs greeted the children when they finally reached the end of the long road trailing through Wood’s End Ranch. Jahrra smiled broadly as she gazed upon the ranch house she loved so much. It was built of clay brick and looked snug among the low rolling fields that made up most of the land surrounding it.
After greeting Nuhra and Kaihmen, her friends’ parents, Jahrra, Gieaun and Scede strolled over to the stables where Phrym was kept. The semequin heard Jahrra before he saw her, poking his curious head over the top of the stable door. Jahrra grinned lovingly; he was growing so fast and becoming so tall.
“Hi Phrym!” She ran the remaining distance to meet him. He was only five months old now, but Jahrra could hardly wait until he was old enough to ride.
During dinner, the three friends chatted about the highlights of their school year.
“I don’t know if I like school very much,” Jahrra answered when Nuhra asked her how her first year had gone. “The only good thing about it is Master Cohrbin and Gieaun and Scede.”
After dinner, the three friends begged Kaihmen to tell them stories.
“Please father, tell us about the monsters that live in the Wreing Florenn!” Scede pleaded.
“Oh no, those tales are for tomorrow when we’re out in the wilderness,” Kaihmen answered with a grin.
The children tried in vain to get him to budge, but he refused. Instead, he pulled out a flute and played a few songs for them until they became drowsy. Once they were all tucked into bed, however, they found it extremely hard to sleep. Jahrra couldn’t tell when she finally drifted off, but when she did, she had dreams of riding Phrym across her friends’ ranch in pursuit of the strange beasts of the Wreing Florenn.
Morning came quickly, and before the sun showed his face, Kaihmen and Nuhra had all of the camping gear gathered and tied to the horses. They both had their own mounts, a pair of Palominos, the ranch’s trademark, while Gieaun, Jahrra and Scede shared a much older and gentler paint named Strohda. After a small breakfast of biscuits and bacon, the group set off heading west, following the road that ran through the town of Nuun Esse and past the Castle Guard Ruin.
The trip to the lake took most of the morning, but it was one filled with color and light and sound. Once at the base of the Sloping Hill, the trio of horses made their way easily through Willowsflorn, full of yellow, brushy willow blooms in the early summer. They crossed over a wide stone bridge that lay across a chattering stream and waved energetically when they met other travelers. Birdsong and the soft whispering of branches being jostled by the breeze filled the air and the fresh, sweet smell of the wilderness tickled Jahrra’s nose. Finally, after what seemed like hours, they arrived at their destination.
Lake Ossar wasn’t only the largest of the dune lakes, but it also had a boardwalk running straight across its width. Ossar was rimmed mainly by lazy, languid oaks with rows of willows, tangles of blackberry bushes, bunches of poison oak and forests of rushes and reeds fencing in its shore.
“We’ll have to return later in the summer when the blackberries are ripe,” Nuhra remarked to the children riding just behind her.
Gieaun, Scede and Jahrra all exchanged smiles of delight. Jahrra loved blackberries, especially those that were still warm from soaking in the sun. Nuhra and Kaihmen led the horses to a clearing surrounded by a few willow trees just out of reach of the boardwalk. As the adults set up camp, the three children climbed down from their horse and went running onto the wide bridge.
“Don’t wander too far you three. Your parents will kill me if anything happens to you Jahrra!”
But they were too thrilled and distracted to hear Kaihmen’s warning.
Once out on the boardwalk, Jahrra could finally see the full beauty of the lake before her. The boardwalk was wide, wide enough in some spots for people to sit on benches and fish. Two empty docks, bobbing and splashing in the weak current, protruded from either side of the wooden bridge like the fins of some great sea animal. Jahrra stepped up onto one of the benches on the turnout closest to her and rested her arms on the edge of the railing, staring out in wide-eyed wonder.
Ossar was more of a large pond than a lake, but it was breathtaking nonetheless. Scrubby woods dotted the landscape to the north and east and just a hint of creamy dunes peeked between the trees in the west. The sky was clear and the sun was shining brightly upon the small ripples of the water’s surface. The Oorn River flowed into this lake and then out into the smaller, marshier Nuun Dein until it finally spilled into the ocean.
Jahrra’s eyes trailed the current of the river, obviously cutting along the surface of the water. Waterfowl of many shapes, sizes and colors floated along in the river’s undertow, prattling on in their bird language. Every now and then one would dive beneath the surface after something moving below, resurfacing many yards away with a tiny silver fish in its beak.
Jahrra spotted a heron foraging among the many bunches of reeds growing in the center of the lake and a duck with her ducklings hiding on the shore. Enormous mats of submerged grasses and plants darkened the water like bruises and when Jahrra focused her eyes on one particular spot, she noticed small minnows darting about just below the surface. If she listened carefully she could detect the sound of the ocean, just a whispering murmur in the distance sending a cool breeze that brushed past her cheek, pulling a tendril of her hair with it. It smelled of salt and the uniqueness of sea and felt refreshing on this warm day. Jahrra took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She lost herself in those several minutes of observation, knowing that this place would always be special to her.
Nuhra found the children soon after their escape from camp chores and told them that lunch was ready. When they finished eating they found the boardwalk once again, desperate for a swim. Kaihmen and Nuhra sat on one of the many benches against the railing as the three friends lowered themselves timidly into the water.