Flindra stopped her gelding for a brief rest. She still had about an hour of daylight left and she needed to find a place to camp. Dismounting, she stroked the horse's neck as they both rested.
"Well old friend, I'm afraid you won't see any more warm and dry barns for a while. Your rations might be a little short, too. I'm sorry to bring you with me, but I need you."
The horse turned his ears toward her as she talked. He was a mountain horse, somewhat small as horses go but incredibly sure-footed. He used to be all black, but now there was a sprinkling of gray in his coat.
Eghero had given him to her as a girl. Flindra still remembered the day when he gave the gelding to her. His familiar tones echoed in her mind as she recalled his words.
"Take care of this horse and he will always serve you well. He is not the swiftest but he will never tire and his feet will always be sure."
She had named him Deru, which in the Old Tongue meant steadfast.
Deru enjoyed being patted beneath his forelock and she started to massage this favorite spot. His head started to lower as he relaxed under her familiar touch. Once she had discovered how much he loved being rubbed here, she had always tried to indulge him. Deru liked being patted under his forelock almost as much as he liked carrots. Almost.
Flindra gathered the reins and mounted. Once in the saddle she pulled her cloak tighter around her body to afford protection from the wind. It would be a chilly camp tonight.
Riding parallel to a small creek, Flindra found a suitable camp. A large fallen tree wedged between two giant boulders would give good protection from the wind. The ground was fairly level and soft with needles - it would provide a good bed. Beyond the boulders was a grassy area where she could let Deru graze.
Flindra tended to Deru first. She had always been taught to take care of her animal before she thought of herself. After all, her life may depend on the horse. She unsaddled him and then brushed him thoroughly. She felt his back and the girth area to make sure he had no sore spots from being ridden all day. She then picketed him in the grassy area.
During the course of the day, Flindra had been gathering dry sticks and pine needles. Her Papa had told her many times that it was not always easy to find dry kindling when setting up a camp. It was better to gather dry tinder when she found it, making it a certainty that she could start a fire when she needed it. She dug in her pockets and pulled out her store of kindling. Placing them on the ground before her, she soon had a small, smokeless fire burning. The fire was really too small to provide a great deal of warmth. Its main purpose was to add a little comfort to her lonely camp.
Flindra ate a simple meal of bread and cheese. She washed the food down with the cold water of the creek. Once her supply of bread was gone, she would exist on berries and dried, smoked meat. Dakra had given her a good supply of dried foods since she would not have time to do much foraging.
Before going to bed, she packed everything back in her saddlebags just in case she needed to break camp in a hurry. She raked some pine needles into a pile with her foot and spread out her sleeping furs on top. Her saddle would be her pillow until she found Kewero and she placed it on the uphill end of her bed. Finally, she strung her bow, took several arrows out of the quiver, and left the bow within a quick reach of her bed.
She slipped off her boots and crawled into her rustic bed. As she rested in her furs, Flindra looked up into the starry sky and wondered if she would ever know happiness and the comforts of home again. She knew the best way to overcome her sorrow was to focus on the goodness of the Spirit and to thank Him for her safe journey.
"Thank you, Beloved Spirit, for keeping me safe today and guiding my footsteps. Look after my family, dear Lord, and keep them from harm. Thank you for all the many blessings of my life."
Her attention was drawn to the night noises. A squirrel had been disturbed from his slumber and was barking his outrage to the world. The darting movements in the underbrush indicated the source of the squirrel's alarm - a fox was hunting on the ground. The squirrel's warning barks would alert all the other potential prey. The fox needed to move on before tonight's hunt would be successful. Flindra continued to listen to the drama of the forest as she closed her eyes and slowly drifted to sleep.
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