Maybe he should set up camp before exploring, since full dark would be on him soon, but it shouldn’t take too long to hike down this corridor. He would have a great deal more trouble finding his footholds on the cliff if he waited much longer. Thankfully, the moon should be bright tonight, which would help him make camp later.
Once he managed to light the candle again, he moved the taper around the cave walls. But once more, all he could see were the narrow sides and the yawning darkness ahead.
He began crawling once more, attuning himself to every detail his senses noticed. The passage seemed to continuestraight in, perhaps moving a little downward. It grew larger also, and finally he could stand stooped over. He could move faster now.
Leaves and sticks littered the stone floor. Though he kept watch on the walls, there didn’t appear to be any tunnels forking to one side or the other. As he continued, the air grew colder. A glance back showed the opening as a tiny pinprick of light, much higher than his current position.
At last, the passageway turned to the left, then opened into a wide cavern. A thrill swept through him as he raised the candle high to see as far up and around as he could. The ceiling rose beyond the reach of his light, so he focused on the walls nearest him.
Moving to the left, he followed the curve of the stone as it spread in a large circle. A faint rustling pricked his ears, growing louder the farther he went. From the sound, he realized there must be a small stream running through this chamber.
Markings on the walls slowed him, and he stepped nearer to see them. Drawings, maybe painted by the natives in the area. He’d heard of such art but had never seen an example. This meant others had explored this cave before him. Did they still come here?
His mind scrambled through the materials that might have been used for each color, the detail added in some areas that accentuated the story being told. He wanted to examine the wall more, but for now he needed to scope out the full area, then get back out to set up camp.
Moving onward, he found the trickle of water he’d heard. It seemed to run toward the lake, so the stream likely fed into the larger body. A few steps farther exposed exactly wherethe bats had roosted. Thick, squishy dung layered the floor, and after a single step he moved backward away from the place. The candle helped him skirt the area, and he tried to scrape the mess off his boots. Even dipping the leather in water did nothing to cleanse it.
As he finished his loop around the edge of the chamber, a few more drawings came into view on the walls. These looked to be made by a different artist than those in the other area, as the style was less ornate. He would definitely return to examine them more closely.
There seemed to be the sooty remains of a long-ago campfire just past that place. Most of the ash had been swept away, leaving only a dark spot and a few charred sticks.
Might this make a good campsite for him? It would certainly be out of the weather, though he’d have to find another place for Gulliver to graze. Would the mule be safe out on his own, especially with that lean coyote on the prowl? Maybe once he knew the area better, he could decide for sure.
For now, it was best he return to his faithful companion before darkness took over completely.
3
Charlotte opened her eyes in the premorning darkness, casting her gaze to the fire. Only coals glimmered in the hearth. It was time.
Easing the covers off, she sat upright and glanced toward her father’s bed, where gentle snoring sounded, then to Andre’s. It was hard to hear the lad’s breathing over Papa’s noises, but Andre usually slept like a hibernating bear, so she should have nothing to worry about from him.
The Dinee trading party would be leaving at first light, and this was her one chance to slip out without worrying her father and the others. She had to take the chalice to the fort and find an engraver skilled enough to repair the damage.
Creeping around the room, she gathered her winter gear in case it snowed. And the nights would be cold. The first snowfall had yet to come but might be on them any day. The early snows rarely fell deep, so she shouldn’t need snowshoes.
She’d need food, too—at least three days’ worth. And the meat knife she usually kept tied at the top of her tall moccasins. The men from Laurent could reach the trading post in two days, but it may take her longer. Perhaps she’dbetter pack for a fourth day, in case she had trouble locating the place. Best bring a few medicines in case something unexpected arose on the journey. Or she could use them for bartering at the fort.
Using both hands, she eased the mangled chalice from its base, then tucked it in a soft sack. This she rolled inside of five furs she’d recently finished tanning for Brielle. These would give her something to trade for food, lodging, and payment to a metalworker—as well as an excuse to be at the fort at all. Would people there think it odd that a woman brought trading furs? Perhaps, but she could be vague in her answers.
She paused in rolling the furs and inhaled a breath of the cool early morning air. Was she really going to do this? Leave home without forewarning and travel to a fort full of men? It wasn’tsucha big thing. She’d simply trade a few furs, look around the place, and hopefully meet a few new people.
Lord, let me find a skilled metalworker there. Please. If one of the artisans at the fort Erik had spoken of could repair the melted cup, she would never have to tell Papa about the damage. And if she could find no such man existed, she would bring the chalice back and beg for her father’s help. He would do what he could, no doubt. But she wanted to at least try to get out of this mess she had created.
Then she’d return home. Several days before Discovery Day, if all went according to plan. And this would give her a look at the outside world, a chance to see if she really was missing anything here in Laurent. Perhaps she’d realize that Hugo was a far better catch than she thought. This trip might make her more grateful for the life God had placed her in.
And if the Lord led her to a man she could love with all her heart, even better.
After gathering the last of her supplies, she penned a note to her father. The why of her sudden departure proved a bit harder to put into words.
I’ve gone with the Dinee traders to visit my friends in their village. I’ve been feeling the need to stretch my wings a bit, to see beyond the walls of Laurent, and I couldn’t miss this opportunity. I’ll return with some of their hunters before the Discovery Day celebration. Don’t worry about me, I think the adventure will be exactly what I need.
That knot coiled in her belly again. She hated lying to her father. She’d never have imagined telling a falsehood this large before. She’d rarely gone farther than the berry patches just outside of Laurent’s walls, but she had no doubt she could handle the journey to the fort since the winter snows hadn’t come yet. But she couldn’t let her father panic.
In the past, when any of their family or close friends had been missing outside of village walls, he’d worried and grieved and gone to dangerous lengths to bring them back. Like the time Brielle had gone looking for Marcellus in a snowstorm. No one was more capable in fierce weather than Brielle, and she’d only been gone a day and a night, but their father had gone out to search even before the storm abated. Now he was even older, his body more frail. If he came to find her, how much harder would that be on him?
She couldn’t do anything to make him worry. Couldn’t take even the smallest chance he would search for her. He would trust her with their Dinee friends. She’d been to their village several times with traders from Laurent, and shewould be traveling with capable people now—at least, he would believe that from her note. This was the only way to keep him from intense worry and the danger that traveling through the mountains at his age would bring.
After signing the missive, she placed it on the table where he would easily see it. One more glance around the room showed nothing else she’d forgotten.
