These parts of the mountain were filled with wildlife, most of which was hidden, but he needed to duck under and go around several large spider webs as he went. Their poisons would not kill him, but they would make him very ill, and there would be no healing from his mother this time. When he was younger, he had accidentally run straight into a lot of the webs he encountered, and while most of the spiders quickly crawled down his chest to get away, some had left their mark. Sometimes their venom had repeated on him, even after his mother’s help. They had left a strange sickness within. Milayiss, the illness his grandfather had mentioned perhaps came from this. Maybe the dreams had been from the same.
He stepped around a large rock half heartedly, almost into another web between two trees, but he had stopped cold in his tracks, oblivious to the web in front of him. He had seen something else, something far below the pass. A flicker. Movement. His weary eyes scanned cautiously. Someone was down there. Soldiers, he thought, looking for him. They would be scouting the land for any survivors, so that no news of their arrival could travel.
Another flicker. This time he was sure of it. He moved around the trees to get a better look. He could see them now, standing in the open. One man. No more. Jaden moved curiously through the few plants for a clearer view of the entire area. He had glimpsed a cave behind the man where there had been more movement. He was right. There were others sitting behind him, inside the cave. What were soldiers doing inside a cave?
He thought hard, but could only come to one conclusion. They were not soldiers at all. They were Callibrian survivors. Had others made it out? Yes, they must have. He wasn’t the only one. There were hundreds running for the mountains.
Almost tripping over, he raced down the slope to them, startling the man standing outside as he neared.
‘Jaden,’ said the man in surprise. ‘My boy, you’re alive!’
Jaden studied him. He was badly beaten, bruised and cut, marks of the attack covering his body, but otherwise in good health and considerable spirit. The man was Don Lohera, an elder of the village. He had always been a wise and calculated man, one of the few who did not partake in the rivalry of the social clans. His long, matted gray hair hung loosely in his face from the rain and his voice seemed calm yet raspy, as if he had accepted what had happened, but had suffered greatly from it.
‘And you, Don,’ said Jaden, looking at the others in the cave, grim expressions on all, no excitement to see his arrival. They, like Don, were also from the north of Callibra, but they did not share the same enthusiasm that Don did for all Callibra-born people. They only favoured their beloved Pioneers.
‘What are you doing here?’ asked Jaden.
‘Waiting, I expect,’ said Don. ‘Don’t mind them, they are finding it hard to cope with the grief, as am I, but I try to stay away from pity, it is not good for one’s blood.’
Jaden acknowledged the expression with a nod. ‘What are you waiting for?’
‘Other survivors perhaps, a plan of some kind, or the grief to pass. Your guess is as good as mine.’
‘We can’t stay here,’ said Jaden.
Don nodded knowingly. ‘You’re right, but you’ll have a task trying to convince them of that.’
‘We have no choice,’ said Jaden, pausing for a moment. ‘I will try.’
Jaden walked past Don to better see those within the cave. He knew they did not mean any disrespect by not greeting him. They were broken, just as he was. But they could not simply wait here. As his grandfather had told him long ago, when a village or city was conquered, the victorious army would seek out all survivors and make sure their security was not breached. It was for this reason and more that they had to leave Callibra.
Jaden’s eyes focused on the group near the back of the cave. He had seen a large figure, a familiar, young but bruised face in the small amount of light. He realised then who it was. Beneath a gashed brow and a swollen, blackened eye was his nemesis, Ardim. He stared for a moment, but felt no anger. In this tragedy, they were brothers. Petty battles had always been fought, but there was no hatred for the one who had attempted to bully him so often, only sympathy and empathy for the poor young man who had suffered such loss. Even one as strong as Ardim had been powerless against the soldiers. They had been large men, even greater than Ardim’s family. And now Ardim would understand what it was to be physically overpowered by someone greater in stature.
‘Ardim,’ said Jaden, and then waited for a reply.
Ardim looked up slowly, their eyes locking briefly, as if speaking silent thoughts to each other. For once in their lives, there was understanding between them, all past troubles being forgotten. Ardim gave a small nod and returned his gaze to the floor. There would be no words spoken, but they were enemies no more.