Ahead of us, the road was blocked by some large boulders that had fallen from the hillside.  Davod and Geraln stepped around the pile, but I stooped low to pick up a few rocks and rolled them off to the right and into the ravine.

“What are you doing?” Davod stopped to ask.  His giant, meaty figure eclipsed a nearby tree.

“This road leads to Gath, right?”

“Yeah, so?” Geraln said.  He was average height, but next to Davod he was short and plump.

“Well, suppose there’s a merchant heading towards Gath with a cart of goods.  They won’t be able to go past these rocks.”

Davod dropped his pack and stooped down on the opposite side, lifting up another giant rock and rolling it off.  It crunched a few twigs as it tumbled.

Geraln protested, “why don’t they clear the way themselves?”

“What if it’s an old man who’s not strong enough?  We can do it right now.”

I dropped my pack and everything else I could lose to prepare for the work that lay ahead.  Davod grabbed a few smaller rocks and launched them far into the ravine.  It was quite a few seconds before we heard rocks crashing against other rocks amid the steady chorus of water somewhere below.

“Nah,” I said.  “Try and keep them right over here, off the side.  The mud seeps into the cracks as it rains, and that’ll reinforce the road, keep it from collapsing.  Help me with this big one.”

And a giant boulder it was.  Between Davod and myself, straining every muscle in my body, we managed to roll it off the roadway.  It fell a little further than I'd hoped and rolled down the hill until it thudded against a large tree.

Geraln protested further, “I don’t understand why we have to do this.”

Davod answered him.  “Look, man.  All your ramblings about our glorious economy, this road brings travelers into Gath and that helps our economy.  Our families.  Our home.  Come on, then.”

Davod and I together got behind a large boulder and wrestled it out of place, letting it fall over and roll down the side of the road.  That one left my arms burning, and by this time my fingers were covered in scratches and dirt, promising to callous over in the coming hours.  I took a break by tossing down some of the smaller ones. 

Geraln continued to talk.  "Why don't we let the people back home take care of this?"

"Because we're here," I said.  

"So?"

My hands were tired from working on the pile, and I'd broken a sweat.  Still there were more.  I looked at Davod, who'd taken on the same yet continued to lift, hoist, and roll rocks from the roadway.  "You could help," he snapped at Geraln. 

I struggled with a large boulder that was blocking an even bigger one, as it had snagged on a smaller rock beneath it.  I pushed, and every time it felt as if it would give way, it refused.  Davod came over and pushed his meaty hands in my way, and gave it a solid yank.  Still it refused to budge.  I then counted from three, and with the both of us we managed to dislodge the thing and send it down the ravine.  It rolled and bounced, crunching through low bushes until it thudded against a tree. 

I looked up at him.  "That was a deeply satisfying sound."

He laughed, then tried to repeat it as best he could.  “Bunk!”

We both laughed at that, then we each tossed away some more of the smaller ones while Geraln continued to watch.  Then there was a big one.  One giant boulder had been hidden beneath the rest, and it didn't seem as though we'd be able to dislodge the thing.  For though we tried, it didn't budge, not even a little.

"Look," Geraln said, "we did enough.  Let's just leave it, alright?"

"Or you could help," Davod snapped. 

"I can't move that damn thing!"

"You could try."

"Let Marsans and Korel get a lever up here and remove it themselves."

"Go get one, then."

"I still don't see why this is our responsibility."

Davod had had enough.  "You know what your problem is, you fat fuck?  You're entitled.  You think you're entitled to Talys, and you never stop to think that maybe, just maybe she's a human being with her own wants, and she don't want you because you're fucking entitled."

"Why are you…"

"Because I'm sick and tired of your bullshit, man!  When Caleb climbs out of the water with his muddy clothes clinging to his skin, girls notice.  Meanwhile you run off to eat all the mini-cakes Guenevieve's mum made for all of us.  Then you get all pissy because you can’t figure out why Talys likes him and not you.”

“But…”

“Can’t even lift a few rocks.  You book-smart fucking worm!  You're so fond of reminding everyone how smart you are, figure out a way to get this boulder out the road."

Geraln stood and blinked; he wasn't expecting Davod to unload on him like that.  I, myself, was exhausted.  No less, we'd committed to moving the thing, so I took a moment to look over the rock and see if an idea presented itself.

Then it came to me.  "This whole side is nice and round; it should roll easy if we can just get it going on this side.  What if we dig out under it?  Let it drop, and use that momentum to push it over."

Davod nodded and began to scrape away at the road beneath it. 

That's when Geraln finally spoke.  "We can use that branch as a lever, and this other rock as a fulcrum.  It's probably not strong enough by itself, but if we time it right that might be enough."

With that, he wandered over to a large broken branch from a tree that had taken damage from the rock slide and brought it over.  He then studied the boulder and carefully placed the instrument at the appropriate spot.  With the way prepared, we took a moment to plan which angles Davod and I would push from. 

"We have to push hard as it's falling over, or we lose momentum," I said. 

Davod nodded.  We both turned to Geraln who nodded his understanding of the plan. 

And so we did it.  With Geraln lifting and Davod and I pushing, we managed to tip the thing over.  As planned, we pushed hard before it hit, but it wasn't quite enough.  I could feel the weight of it wanting to fall back down on our side, and if we'd let go it would do exactly that.  Yet no matter how hard I pushed, I couldn't get it over the corner. I looked at Davod, whose eyes were closed and he grunted as he strained.  My muscles were failing me, and I was about to give up when a new force entered the equation.  Geraln had shoved the branch deep under the thing and kicked at the fulcrum to push it lower, and the whole thing rocked over to its side and rolled over and down the hill, off the roadway. 

We shared a smile, a laugh, and exhausted deep breaths among us. The way was clear but for a few small rocks and a deep rut that needed to be repacked, and there was a consensus among us to let the good people of Gath finish that part up.

Davod took out his canteen to wash the dirt from his hands, then doused his face with the rest.  There was a waterfall up ahead where we were able to wash up and change, and from there we continued on.

After some hours, the road surrendered to a high, flat dome of a plain with a smooth grassy knoll the center of which hosted the village of Treanet.  Around this on three sides, the mountains stretched up into the sky like giant tombstones, earning the name graveyard of the gods.  To the west, the hill overlooked a lush valley of forest, covered in mist.  Some distance beyond that would be the coastal villages of Heralia.

As for Treanet, a collection of gray stone houses clustered together amid the stench of cattle as they grazed on oats and barley, staring at us as we walked by.  Then, at the entrance of the village stood a forty-foot totem, freshly painted, the cougar graced the pinnacle, its mouth agape as if to roar out in warning to all who dared to cross his domain.

From an open doorway, a figure appeared like a blur of white fabric billowing in the wind and started to run across the dirt towards us.  It was Melyce.  Her long, straight hair danced behind her as she ran, like a green shade of black as it waved.  Her olive-green skin glowed in the mid-afternoon sun, and as she approached she jumped up on me, wrapping her legs around my hips and throwing her arms about my shoulders.  I set my arms under her to support her weight, and she devoured my lips.  

Sarina.  I shouldn't have let Melyce kiss me.

After a moment’s greeting, I turned away and set my arms down to my sides, allowing her to slide down onto her feet, where she kept her arms about me and tilted her head all the way back so as to lock her emerald-green eyes onto mine.  “Hi!”

“Hi, Mel.”  The advent of adulthood had been kind to Melyce.  She was about average height for a girl, with generous hips and a supple body that felt delicious as she pressed into me.  Her hooded eyes, high cheeks and plush lips made it difficult to tear my gaze from her.

She hadn’t so much as turned her attention to the simple truth that I'd traveled with two others, but rather spoke to me and me alone.  “I’ve missed you so much, my love!  Gods, look at you!” She took a moment to look me up and down with her fingers.  “How do you get even more handsome every time I see you?  And what brings you to Treanet?”

Her voice was rich, and smooth like velvet; I couldn’t help but smile.  “Is it hard to believe that I merely wanted to see you?”

With that, she lifted up a finger and poked me in the center of my chest as hard as she could.  It actually hurt.  “Fuck around with my emotions, and I’ll make you wish you wasn’t born, fool!  Tell me true!”

“We…” Davod began.

Melyce cut him off before he could speak.  “Wait.  Come in for lunch, then tell me.  OK?”

Davod and Geraln managed to stride along as she took my hand and towed me back towards her house.  We climbed the short hill to her place, past a small coup where the chickens clucked out in greeting, and into a small shack of stones cemented together with a simple, wood-shingled roof.  Inside, one could see the wood frame holding it all together, and Melyce was busy setting pillows on the floor around a small, rough-hewn wooden table.  Then she'd gone to an iron stove upon which rested a cauldron, and portioned out a generous serving into each of four ceramic bowls.

She then stood with a nervous expression on her face.  "Come and sit down?"

We did.  I sat down first, while Davod took the seat to my left.  Geraln was about to sit at my right, when I presume he remembered he didn't like me and chose the seat across the table instead.  Melyce took to my right and maneuvered her pillow so as to cozy her hip up with mine.  She was close, such that I had to try and eat with my left hand. 

As for the soup, the broth was water with some fat melted into it.  That hosted some hefty chunks of potatoes and carrots, shredded scraps of chicken, with dots of pearl barley swimming around the surface.  I took a sip.

She spoke to Geraln first.  “What happened to your face?  You look like you was in a fight.”

He glanced up at me, then back down to his soup.  “I slipped.  It rained yesterday, and when it does the cobbled street gets slippery.”

“Uh-huh,” she nodded as though sensing right through him.  “How’s the soup?”

“You want me to be honest?” he said.

“Of course.”

“It’s, uh… you’ve done better.  Could use a roux, some chopped parsley, caramelized onions, maybe a pint of stout to give it some kick, and yeah, desperately cries out for some salt.

"Mmm," she nodded.  "I'm actually all out of salt at the moment.  You know, it's not even a money situation, it's just… so I went to the market up in Gravis the other day and I had a list of everything I needed.  But I slipped along the way and I lost it.  No problem, I said, I can remember.  So I get there, oh my goodness there was a merchant from Saen there, had a spice mix soooooo good!  Unbelievable, you'd absolutely love it.  Hold on…"

She got up and went for the pantry, a wooden shelf fixed to the stone wall.  It was hard not to notice her round figure, but thoughts of Sarina rent my eyes from her.  There, she brought back a small burlap satchel and offered it to me.  I took one whiff and right away my senses lit up.  I could tell the hellroot—without even tasting it my whole sinuses felt the burn.  But then, as the blast abated, a symphony of oregano, dmusu, and something… else massaged my mind into sweet relaxation.

Geraln took it up and with one sniff his head shot back.  "Gods, man!"

Melyse's eyes were wide with expectation, and she spoke through a warm smile.  "I told you, didn't I?"

"You did!  Damn!  You need to rub some meat in that and roast it on a spit."

"That's exactly what they do!"  She was excited.  "It takes on a whole different character when you cook it, too.  Anyway, like I was saying, I was there talking to my friend Dayane, you remember her, don't you Davod?"

Davod blushed and lowered his eyes with a smile. 

"And we just got to talking, we spent the whole day together catching up, you know.  Anyway I left in time to make it back before sundown and it wasn't until I started unpacking all my bags when I realized I forgot about salt altogether.  Kind of an important thing to forget, you know?  Anyway, what is it that brings you boys out this way?  I forgot to ask earlier."

She looked at me as she asked, but I turned to Davod.

"We been called to arms," he said.

In less than a second, Melyse's face turned to stone and I could feel her trembling as she pressed into me.  "But… you're… heading south."  Her voice shook with terror.  "Why are you heading south?"

I told her, "we’re supposed to go to a place called Carthia."

"Gods!" she cried.  She covered her face in her hands and stood up, turned around, and stepped away from us entirely.  There, she set her hands on the wood plank that served as a countertop and wept.

"Melyce?" I said. 

"WHY?"

Davod shook his head and shrugged.  "I suppose they need men there and felt we were well suited…"

"Shavod and Darius got called to Carthia last spring."

"Shavod is in Carthia?" I spoke.

"The letter came over the summer,” she continued to weep.   “Both of them.  They’re never coming home."

The three of us needed a moment to take that in.  Those two boys were like far-away cousins—every few seasons we would gather to trade stories and dirty jokes, play capture the totem, and talk about how boring the grown-ups were while those same boring grown-ups busied themselves preparing feasts and decorations for the holidays.  Darius and Geraln used to quiz each other to see who knew more stuff while Shavod and I would take a boat through the rapids all the way to Zoinia only to get chased away for spending way too much time talking to Kraya’s daughters.

Geraln broke the silence, "did it say how they died?"

Melyce wiped tears from her cheeks and sobbed.  "Battle.  You go off to war, you die in battle.  That's how it works.  Oh, gods, please don't go!"

Davod huffed.  "We have a duty.  We'll be alright; we take care of each other."

With that, Melyce came back towards us and resumed the seat she had before, only this time draping an arm over my shoulders and bringing her face close to mine.  She spoke almost in a whisper.  "Put a baby in me."

My two friends laughed, but she glued her emerald-green eyes to mine with the utmost sincerity.  Memories of the soft skin of her thighs in my cheeks titillated my mind, but this was something else entirely.  “Melyce, I can’t.  You know that.”

A solemn tear meandered down her cheek as she pleaded with me.  “This is different, Caleb.  You have to make an exception in times like this.”

“I’m chaste.  There are no exceptions.”

“Bullshit.  Who’d you pick for Naveris?”

Davod huffed, while I sought a suitable answer.  “I… actually didn’t.”

She pulled her face back in shock, then squinted up at me.  “Gueneveive?”

“Eh…” I sought words appropriate, lest rumors find their way back home.  “She might have been willing, I suppose, but remember I grew up in the church.  That’s more of a pagan tradition.”

“Pagan!” she scoffed.  She passed her eyes about the table once more before coming back to me.  “You look so far down your nose at our ancestral gods!”

“Well…”

“At your ancestral gods!”

I took in a deep breath while Geraln smirked at me.  Melyce rather shook in her seat and rocked back and forth while studying my face immemorial.  Her lip quivered.  I thought she was about to shed another tear when instead she turned away from me completely.  “Davod.  Put a baby in me.”

He chuckled to himself and stood.  “Let’s go!”

Melyce stood and took his hand, casting a cursory glare down at me as she led him off towards a pile of hides and woolen blankets assembled in the corner.  She spoke to Geraln, not to me.  “You two gents mind stepping outside for a bit?”

Geraln moved slowly and mumbled with his eyes wide.  “Maybe I’d like to put a baby in you.” 

She didn’t answer, neither did she speak one more word to me.  I sat still, trying to work out exactly what had just happened, or what was clearly about to happen.

Melyce cleared her throat audibly and stared as I continued to sit.  I looked up, then turned to Geraln whose whole body shook with unstifled laughter. Then, like some forlorn thing I rose and shuffled myself out of Melyce’s house only to catch her reaching her hands behind Davod’s neck and pulling him down to kiss her lips before closing the door on her for good.

Outside, the midday sun cast a blinding glare that saturated the world, and Geraln and I glanced at one another while he broke out laughing.

“What so funny?”

“You, man!”  He pulled his hair from the sides of his face and slicked all of it behind him.

“I’m trying to figure this out… did what just happen… did what I think just happened… happen?”

He laughed again.  “You mean, did you just now do a Caleb again?  Yes.  You most certainly did.  No worries, man, you got some last night.”

“I didn’t.”

“What?” he smirked.

I smiled.  “Screwed up with four girls in two days.  I think that’s a record.”

He pulled his face back.  “Huh?  What do you mean?”

“Well, I had three chances last night and blew all three, and now this.”

“Wait… I thought you chose Talys last night?”

“I did.  I mean… I told her that.  Then she saw me kissing Gueneveive.  I suppose she lost interest after that.”

“Why the bloody hell would you kiss Gueneveive if you picked Talys?”

“I don’t know, man.  I was drunk… she was there…”

He shook his head and smiled.  “I can’t fault you there; she did look fucking sexy last night.  Why didn’t you just take her, then?”

“I told her I wanted Sarina.”

He laughed again.  Then, from an open window Melyse's rich voice drifted through the air, a calm exhalation.  “Mmmmm….”

That soon gave way to more of those, and she’d settled into a rhythm of moans, “uh… uh… uh… uh…”

It felt as if a dagger was twisting around in my heart, and I had to step away.

Geraln laughed.  “What’s the matter?”

“Do I have to stand here and listen to this?”

“Uh… uh… uh… uh…”

Geraln couldn’t help his amusement.  Between his smug grin, chuckling, he managed to eek out some words.  “She did ask you first, man.”

“Uh… uh… uh…”

I protested.  “How is it I’m the one that has this reputation with girls, he’s in there not even twenty-four hours after pledging himself to Runya like it’s nothing?”

Geraln said nothing.  He merely continued to smile at me.

“Uh… uh… uh… oh gods, fuck me… oh yes, fuck me… uh… uhhh… oh… oh…”

I sucked my teeth. I began to hear Davod grunting in concert with her.

Geraln kept watching me, and though he tried, couldn’t quite stifle his laughter.  “That should have been you, man.”

“I can’t believe he treats Runya like that; she’s a sweet girl.  She doesn’t deserve this.”

“You going to run back to Gath and tell her?”

“Uhhuhuh… uhhuhuh… oh yes… oh yes… ohhhh gods yes…”

I stepped away further.  Geraln shook his head and laughed at me further.  “Let me ask you this… why’d you tell Gueneveive you picked Sarina when you picked Talys?”

I didn’t need to answer that question.  Moreover, I didn’t need to stand there and continue to listen to what was going on between Davod and Melyce.  It hurt.  But, she’d made her choice, and I’d made mine, and that would of course be the way I'd get over it.

It still hurt.

There was a bridge that separated the clearing where the village of Treanet stood from the sharp rise in the mountainside, and it was there I chose to wait, far enough from Melyce’s house that the murmuring of the brook drowned out the sound of fucking nearby.

There, I sat down, closed my eyes, and felt the cool air on my face as I let out a prayer.

Father, I would like to see Sarina again.  If it’s your will, grant me this?  Please?