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The group stood on the edge of town looking out over the valley that would lead them to the Thunderridge Pass. Each of them inspecting one part of the wagon or another before they treaded off for the journey to Salaile.  Their caravan consisted of two wagons, four horses and a group of eight men.  Udorus, Thonas, Christian and five others.  All of them had traveled together on previous trips, save for the boy. 

The valley was partially covered with a forest of pines and oaks.  It was notorious however for the uneven terrain, even on the established paths.  Being so close to winter, the mountains were already covered in snow.  The sun shining at their backs caused glare off the snow peaks promising to make the first half of their journey uncomfortable on their eyes. Most of the crew donned hooded cloaks to try and protect their eyes from the rays.  Gray hazy clouds hung low over the peaks of the mountains, obscuring them from sight.  They were a tell tale sign that more snow would be falling to impede their journey when they reached the peak.  The group could only pray to the Gods that no avalanches would slow their ascent. 

Shortly after midday, they left Nanholve, and the first afternoon  through the valley was graced with winds blowing in off the sea making traveling bitter cold. The moist, salty air burned Christian’s nostrils.  His feet ached as he wore only thin leather boots made for the smooth stone streets of the city and his hands became sore and started to crack already from the cold wind. He found his waterskin quickly emptied as the dry, stickiness in his mouth became more than he could tolerate.  His mind already reeled as to how he would manage nearly three weeks of this torture.

The road to the pass was well worn and many of the underlying rocks were finding their way to the once smooth surface. Christian was certain that if rock fairies existed, they had spent the previous night turning all the rocks pointy side up to ensure that he, and the horses stepped on each one. This had already caused one of their horses to go lame, forcing extra loads to be handled by the other horses and the crew.  Namely Christian.  Being the greenhorn on the team, he was made to carry the extra loads and tend to every whim of the senior crew members. While Thonas assured him that is was a character building task, he was not pleased with the prospect of doing everyone’s bidding.  He searched his memory and could not remember his father ever treating him in a such an indignant way. How dare this man tell him what was good for his character?

While the scowl he carried on his face spoke much about his mood, Christian himself spoke very little.  He did what he was ordered, never speaking or replying unless necessary.  It was only their first day, and half a day at that and Thonas was already concerned the boy would not last through a week.  He showed no initiative, doing no more then what he was told. It seemed that every hour, one of the crew was barking an order at him. Much of the crew spent their time laughing at him when he did something wrong.  His job had been simply to guide two of the packhorses behind the wagons.  It was not a hard job, but he managed to cause problems no less.  Udorus led the caravan on the front wagon; Thonas followed it as the rear guard.  Christian was unnerved by the feeling that the man’s eyes were constantly burning into his back.

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Two days hence their travel continued in the same manner.  Christian’s eyes rarely left the ground moving slowing in front of him.  His nose bled frequently from the salty wind he roughly breathed in as he became exhausted from the rising incline.  His regrets mounted with each step as the blisters on his feet swelled and popped. The boys hands were crusty from wiping the blood from his face, compounded by the dust dried onto them from the dirt being kicked up by horses he led.

No one dared come too close to him as he stench radiating from him was nearly unbearable.  Each night they had stopped, the other crew members made a point to bath in the near freezing stream that ran almost parallel to the road.  Christian however, passed out with exhaustion, ignoring the fact that his body was in dire need of bathing.  The mornings were too busy to allow him to escape to the waters edge, since he overslept on each one.

Sighing as he trudged along the road, tripping occasionally on the pointy-side-up rocks, he hoped someday he would understand why his father was so cold to him that morning only three days ago. Three days that seemed like an eternity. The ground beneath his feet blurred as he walked, he could see his small, warm kitchen in front of him.  Adrian was boiling some meat or bean soup over the fireplace.  He could still see the deep brown eyes of this father looking warmly at him, as they had every morning of his life.  The lines on his face showed his advanced years, but Christian had never doubted whether Adrian would be there for him.  The old man was as steady as they come.  His routine was clockwork, everything was done precisely the way it had been done the day before.  Up until the day Christian left home that is.  His father had acted so differently that day.  It was as if he had never really known the man at all.  He missed him badly, and wished he had not left the way he had. 

Christian came back to reality when pain shot through his forehead as he walked into the back of the wagon he had been following.  Laughter and hollers emanated from all around him as the crew had obviously been stopped long enough to disembark from the wagons and horses to see him walk into the stopped caravan.  His daydream of being home had carried him farther then he realized. It was almost completely dark, they were breaking for camp.

The end of this third day found the caravan at the base of the mountain, near the entrance to the pass. The trees were fairly thick here and lined both sides of the trail. Being a well-traveled throughway, there were spots along the route that had been cleared previously for camping. They worked quickly to take advantage of this attribute.

The crew pulled out their bedrolls and most began bunkering down for the night. This would be the last night they could handle the weather without tents.  Once they started up the mountain, the night winds would be unbearable.  Thonas and a couple of the others began building a fire in the center of the camp for warmth.

 “One of ye bums will be gatherin’ some wood in the morn’ to build this fire back up fer breakfast,” Udorus snarled. Several of the crew mumbled their acknowledgment of the dwarf, others just ignored him.

            It would be like all the other nights for Christian, he was certain. He was having a hard time sleeping under the stars. He was cold, uncomfortable and more then slightly unnerved.  This was his first time traveling and every sound made him stir, and more often then not, come completely awake.  For two nights this had been the routine.  Aside from the noises, the crew made him just as uneasy.  Thonas never seemed to let him out of his sight. Udorus only spoke when yelling about something being wrong and the rest of the crew just laughed at or ignored him.

            He sat down on his bedroll, carefully removing his boots.  As he unlaced them, his feet began to throb.  Several blisters burst and oozed, and crusted blood caused one of his boots to stick momentarily to the bottom of his foot.  He let out a small cry as the boot broke free and took a small amount of skin with it allowing for fresh blood to seep from the lesions.  Thonas cringed slightly when the boy cried out, as if he had injured himself in some small way at the same time. He looked over his shoulder at the boy, a small amount of concern showing on his face, but he would not allow Christian or anyone else to see it.  Thonas simply offered him a small frown, shook his head and returned his attention to his own bedroll.

            Christian took the look from Thonas as a sign of disappointment and quickly looked away.  Rubbing his feet as gingerly as he could, he realized that his daydreaming about being home had not been useful at all to this journey. Perhaps, he thought, tomorrow would be another day, one where he would not prove to be useless.  His father had wanted him to find work, and he would not let him down by failing so horribly that he was sent home before the work was completed.  Not to mention if he showed some initiative, maybe they would leave him alone.

            Carefully slipping his feet into his bedroll, he turned from the rest of the crew and fell almost instantly asleep.  His dreams thwarted the night sounds and for the first time since he left home, he slept in peace.