Page 58 of Tusks & Saddles
Welborn shuddered at the thought.
Nothing quite took the wind out of his sails as that sobering thought had. Welborn’s relationship with his father was fine—no different than any father and son, he supposed. But Welborn wasn’t a fool. He knew it hurt his father to see his son—the same son that had features similar to his mother, even with his green skin. There was no changing the shape of his nose or eyes, or his slight frame. And when Larok wasn’t mourning his second wife, he was mourning his first whenever Boone would send his letters.
What would mom think of me now?Welborn wondered.Would she recognize this sad cleric as her son? Would she worry about me?
Those thoughts were halted as Miss Eaves abruptly slowed her horse to a stop. Welborn nearly rode past her, pulling the reins a few paces beside her.
“What is—”
“Shh,” Miss Eaves said. “Don’t move.”
Welborn swallowed his question, glancing around the open plains. The Searing Wastelands were vast with tall flora and fauna—all of which had rather abrasive looking thorns or long quill-like spines. Beyond the dry dirt and errant tumble weed, there was nothing but the long sky and hot,hot, sunshine.
What is she looking for?
As if Miss Eaves heard him, she dropped from her horse. Out of reflex, Welborn grabbed the reins, but kept his eye on his companion. Miss Eaves walked slowly, hand already brandishing her weapon as she pushed forward. She was about thirty feet away when she stopped.
The urge to call out to her was building in Welborn’s throat as Miss Eaves suddenly knelt. Her back was to him, so Welborn wasn’t certain what she was looking at exactly. The anxiety of not knowing had started to eat away at him when Miss Eaves jerked back up onto her heel. She glanced over her shoulder, gesturing to him to approach.
“What is it?” Welborn asked once he had maneuvered the horses closer.
For a moment, Miss Eaves didn’t say a word. Welborn’s gaze fell from her form to the ground and he frowned at what had caught Miss Eaves attention. Beneath a patch of wild weeds, the ground looked disturbed. Several roots were raised in dirt piles. If Welborn didn’t know better, he’d say a farmer had been tending to the ground in the hopes of producing crops.
But that doesn’t make any sense. There’s nothing but weeds out here, no homes, no people. And those tilling strips—
“What do you make of this, holy man?” Miss Eaves questioned.
“I… well, it looks like someone’s been doing some tilling, but these strips don’t make sense,” Welborn said. “They should be rows, but they seem to go all over the place.”
“My guess is that whatever made these, there looks to be at least six of them,” Miss Eaves said as she pointed toward the different rows.
“What kind of beasts are in the Searing Wastelands?” Welborn asked.
There had been critters in the woods near their small cabin. Deer, badger, rabbits—simple, small things that were relatively harmless outside of tearing up his mother’s garden. But Ordia had much larger creatures than elk. Dragons flew overhead, large serpents swam in the oceans, and giants roamed the land.
Honestly, Ordia was not the kind of world made for the faint of heart. For all it’s beauty and wonder, there were a lot of things that could kill you. Welborn supposed that’s why Miss Eaves was so—
“There are domesticated cattle ranches, but that’s in the opposite direction of the city. I mean, rabbits, vultures, coyotes, snakes,” Miss Eaves sighed. “The list goes on.”
“Anything that’s more… um…”
“Wild?”
“Yeah…anything you can think of that burrows like this?”
“I can think of a few things,” Miss Eaves hauled herself back onto her horse. “But none of them are good things.”
“Such as?”
Welborn knew he’d regret asking, but couldn’t help himself.
“Giant insects,” Miss Eaves said. “Or giant spiders, to start. Honestly, any dire beast—”
“Like giant birds?”
“That’s….oddly specific. You think it was a burrowing bird?”
Welborn jaw clamped shut, tusks clacking loudly against his canines.
