Reena reached out and grabbed her friend’s arm. “You will not tell them. My father believes that I go off to map, and he hopes—” She could not continue.
“He hopes you find a new home,” Brigid said. “Your father and I talk, and you would be wise to listen to him—there is nothing here.”
“There is everything here; there is family and friends, and I cannot turn my back on them. We need help, all of us, and we need it before winter sets in. You know as well as I do that there is not a sufficient food supply for everyone. Many will starve, many innocent children. I cannot have that.”
Reena slipped on a wool jacket and tucked her hair beneath a cap. “You must promise me that you will tell no one of this.”
“And if you do not return with help?”
“I will,” Reena said adamantly.
“How long should I wait before I begin to worry over your safe return? Though you have not yet left I worry already, dressed like a young lad.” Brigid shook her head.
“A young lad traveling on his own is less likely to be bothered than a young lass on her own. These garments afford me protection; they are my armor. Now as to your waiting, from my father’s descriptions and my own calculations I do not think I have to travel far. I would estimate that if I do not return in two weeks’ time that I am in trouble, in which case there is nothing you could do.”
“I will come search for you,” Brigid insisted. “You are my friend; I would not leave you to another’s mercy.”
“You will, for I will not have you hurt. I do this of my own free choice, and whatever befalls me is the consequence of my own decision. You must promise me that you will not come after me. You are needed here. Who will look after my parents? Who will help the other women with their sick and hungry babies? Promise me, Brigid, please. I need this promise from you.”
She hesitated. “I give you my promise reluctantly and because I know that your stubbornness will help you to succeed in an impossible task.”
Reena smiled and hugged her friend tightly, the thought of possibly never seeing her again a distant worry in her mind. She would do as she must and she would succeed. She had to, or many would perish.
She grabbed her sack, slipping her arm through the opening beneath the knot that held all the necessary items for her trip. “Fret not. I go off to continue my father’s most famous tale—I go to meet the Legend.”Chapter 2Reena stared at the line of trees in front of her. They looked like a row of soldiers guarding the woods behind them; one after the other they stood, their heavy branches resembling arms stretched out, ready to prevent intruders from passing. It was odd that they should grow in a perfect line, for in their oddity they intimidated. They actually looked ready to attack anyone who dared attempt to pass them.
Reena gave a little shiver. The weather had chilled in the last two days, and she was glad for the wool leggings, tunic, jacket and leather boots. That she resembled a young lad mattered not to her; that she remained warm mattered greatly. The change in weather reminded her how very important her journey was. She simply could not fail.
She studied the line of trees; if her father’s mappings were accurate, she was standing at the border of the Legend’s lands.
A sudden wind rushed around her, swirling up leaves on the ground and sending a stronger shiver through her. The sky was heavy with clouds, making the woods darker than usual for early afternoon and making her wonder at the wisdom of her decision. But there was no going back—she had to find help for her village, or many would die this coming winter.
That thought reinforced her courage. With her sack firmly in her grasp, she breathed a hefty sigh as she approached the line of soldier trees.
She almost expected the trees to march forward and forbid her entrance, but they remained stoic sentinels and allowed her to pass. She proceeded several feet, thinking the woods too dense to harbor any keep or cottage. How, then, did the Legend live? Her father had never spoken of seeing the Legend’s home, only his land.
Not allowing herself to grow discouraged, she moved on, climbing over large stones, fallen trees and bending down to pass through an arch of thorns. One thorn caught at her shoulder as if warning her not to go on, to turn back now, while she had the chance.
She did not heed the warning; she simply dislodged the thorn from her jacket and proceeded past bushes and saplings. Stepping out into a large meadow, she could see, with a squint of her eyes, a high stone wall in the distance.