"Step steady on the bridge of fate and listen to the keeper's words."

~ Unknown Author (A saying oft whispered around fires in the North)

Erdil

They approached the bridge and Ketiya took the lead. Avétk rode beside Emeline. She had expected that they would cross the bridge immediately, one at a time, on foot, or something like that. Instead, Ketiya turned right at the top of the rise.

'Avétk? Aren't we crossing?' she asked in confusion.

'Be patient, Em.' Avétk shook the reigns of his steed once, and the horse promptly sped up. 'We gotta see the Warden first.'

'Oh!' Emeline bit her lip and looked sideways at the snowy landscape. She shook Abigail's reigns once too, just as Avétk had done, and caught up to him with a little trot.

Keeping her mouth shut a while suddenly seemed an excellent idea, seeing that she always ended up saying the simplest things. So she pinched her lips shut with determination, her hips swaying in her saddle to the beat of Abigail's hoofs. Holding her tongue would be a struggle. Mother had reprimanded her for her foolish words many times, and the scoldings bit into her heart.

They arrived as Ketiya swung her legs off of her horse's back. She stroked Maxim's face, smiled and cooed, whispering into his ear as she held his jaw. Then she slapped him fondly on his behind, and he strolled off to the first verdure he saw. The horse proceeded to nibble on the greenery and Abigail ambled over to join him, with Emeline still on her back.

Emeline shrugged and swung down off Abigail's back with the grace that comes from experience. Once her feet were firm on the ground, she brought her hands to where her skirts would be intending to straighten them, and was reminded that she no longer had skirts. She smiled.

The little stone house stood down a white stone pathway, snowy and unkempt. Sure didn't look like anyone was there, but Emeline did not speak her thoughts. Avétk, still on his horse, clopped down the pathway right up to the entrance of the stone house, got off, and drew his dagger as if it were the thing to do in these sorts of situations. And who knows, maybe it was.

The little shack did look abandoned, and maybe something dangerous lurked inside. Ketiya clucked her tongue, rolled her eyes, and stomped after Avétk, mumbling about his incompetence.

'We can't go in there swinging our swords at the Warden. He will never let us cross!' Ketiya threw her arms in wild gestures as she argued.

'I wasn't gonna do anything to the man, it's just for safety sake.' Avétk lifted his palms up in innocence. 'Besides, no one's here. I can tell.'

'Huh.' Ketiya folded her arms, watched him from the corner of her eye, and clicked her tongue once more in disdain. Emeline walked up behind Avétk and hid in his shadow, you know, just in case there was something dangerous in there. Ketiya knocked on the old door, her one foot tapping. They looked at each other in anticipation. A minute passed.

'I told you,' Avétk said, 'he's not-'

The old door burst open, and Ketiya leapt back in surprise.

'Here,' he finished.

'Good golly waggle, what year is it?' A very old skinny man popped out of the door, walking stick in hand, as he shouted. A man bent over with age, grey beard dragging on the ground. This didn't stop him waving his limbs around with grand gestures as he spoke. 'Where's Vargin? That old bitch! Someone's got to sort her out! Hang on, hang on. Let me grab me things and we'll be off.'

The old man swerved into the dark interior of his little home, creaking knees springing about.

'Uhh...Warden?' Ketiya held her index finger up, but the man had gone back inside. 'Sir?' Her voice sounded uncertain, which was something Emeline had never heard before.

'I'll be just a minute!' he yelled from the shadows. 'Gotta pack supplies ya know,' he muttered, 'supplies... very important. Indeed indeed.'

Avétk looked at Emeline, eyebrows raised, and they both burst out laughing. A scowl grew and settled on Ketiya's face and she folded her arms and huffed once, straightened her back, and entered the Warden's dark abode.

'Sir!' she enunciated her words and Emeline could hear them clearly from where she stood. 'We wish to cross the Ysbrug.'

Emeline snuck closer and peeked inside, but hid behind the door. The old man kept muttering, stuffing things into his pack.

'We are from down Aysgarth's way and on our way to Skävia.' With slow, obvious steps she approached the Warden, most likely wishing to show him the respect his position demanded.

'Skävia...Skävia?!' The Warden bellowed out. 'Now, now dear woman why would you wanna be off that'a way? The old bitch is in the woods man! I heard it straight from her mouth, just a few days back!'

He waved his walking stick around, then pointed it straight at Ketiya's nose. Her jaw moved and Emeline imagined she might be biting her tongue, holding back sharp words.

'We need to head off that'a way, y'hear? Stop her before it's too late.'

'But, sir,' Ketiya said.

'Now you listen to me young one. I've been here since... Well, since before the Ysberg had a trail! I'm tellin' ya.' He waved his stick in a circular motion, around her face. 'We gotta stop that hag before she brings destruction on the entire northern land!' The tip of his stick he banged on the ground and proceeded to tug at and pull undergarments from the washing line that had been spun above the fireplace.

'The holy Fathers know this is the most important moment in history!' Now on one leg, he hobbled about, walking stick in his hand. With the other hand, he tried to tug his undergarments over the foot he had waving about in the air.

Ketiya's eyes widened and she turned about, facing the darkness of the musty room, but not before Emeline had spotted the blush crawling over her cheeks.

'Besides, of course, for the prophecy... You know the one with the girl child.' The man finally succeeded in pulling his underwear onto the one leg. His walking stick switched hands and he started on the other leg. 'Gngnnn...' his old voice sounded with effort.

'By Jove if I could see the end of an age!' His underwear slid over his crooked foot and he went about tugging it up under his loose tunic. 'That would be... Well, life changing I'd say.'

'In that case I have good news for you, sir.' Ketiya smiled and risked a peek at the old man, who'd stopped faffing about with his clothing at last.

The Warden's hairy eyebrows lifted in intrigue. 'What is this you're telling me now, then?' Both bony hands he folded over the knob of his walking stick and puckered his lips.

'The child, the one from the prophecy. She's with us,' Ketiya stated matter-of-factly, 'just outside, actually.'

Was Ketiya talking about her? Emeline frowned and looked at Avétk, and she realised he was peeking in too, his shadow looming over her. For half a minute, the Warden was silent, and the crackling of the fire filled the hollow the silence made.

'What year is it?' the Warden said to the flames.

'It's the eighth year of the reign of Lord Shehëk,' Ketiya said with a shrug, but the old man's eyebrows launched up into the wide space his balding head left on his forehead.

'Shehëk ey? Whose son is he then? I thought it was the first year of the reign of Bederïn.'

'Oh, sir!' Ketiya said, 'That was around seventy years ago! Lord Shehëk is the son of...Of Lord Pittü I think? He defeated the evil Günsel in the blood river battle.'

'Yes. Well...' The old man moved his jaw around in a strange manner and scowled at the fire. 'Old age has its disadvantages too, doesn't it?' he shuffled over towards the door. The animated energy he'd been dancing with just before had cooled to a timidity more becoming his looks.

'So you say you have the child ey?' A snicker parted his thin old lips mid shuffle. 'Show her to me, then. I'll tell ya if it's the one.'

'Of course Warden.' Ketiya marched forward. In a rush, Emeline and Ketiya scampered back and pretended they hadn't been peeking in. A casual whistling floated from Avétk's lips - that gave the game away. Ketiya held the door open for the Warden and gave Avétk the stink eye.

As soon as the Warden spotted Emeline, his eyes went wide - too wide! It seemed that his eyeballs might pop out of his head. For some reason Avétk turned away when he saw the man's surprised expression, and walked off down the path, away from the others.

Emeline couldn't make sense of it, but she shrugged it off. 'Good day, sir.' She bowed to him. 'I am Eme-'

'I know who y'are young'n! Emeline Frost, good grief! So you're the one?' he threw his arms in the air, walking stick and all. I saw you the other day child. Don't y' remember?'

Emeline felt tense. She'd never been this far west before. 'I've never been here before, sir Warden. Maybe I remind you of someone?'

'No, no. I remember you! You're Emeline Frost aren't ya?' His knees wobbled as he stomped about while he spoke. Emeline wanted to answer him, but he gave her no chance.

'It was a warm day. No troubles at all with the stones on the Ysbrug. Then the mist had come, just after y'crossed and the old hag had been in it.' The Warden spat into the greenery beside his pathway. 'Worst fight I can remember since I been posted at the bridge, that day, and Fathers, it was a close call. T'was the mist itself that saved me in the end.'

He squinted up, looking at the clouds as he reminisced. 'There I was, dangling by a few fingers from the edge of that very bridge, slipping slowly.' He pointed in the direction of the Ysbrug with his walking stick, his eyebrows again raised and his eyes glossed with a faraway memory. 'Couldn't scream or they'd a heard me. I was down to two fingers when-'

'What a lovely tale, sir, but could we possibly get back to today's crossing?' Ketiya interjected. 'We need to reach Ysvallëi before nightfall.' She gave him an apologetic tilt of chin and a scraping bow when he faced her.

For a whole minute he held his silence, and Emeline chewed the corner of her lip raw whilst fiddling with the hem of her top.

He looked angry.

Towards the bridge, the Warden then turned and muttered to himself as his knobbly knees bounced in comic steps. 'Young'uns these days...'

Emeline couldn't make it all out, but she heard a word here and there.

'Disrespectful...The times...Never know...Women!' one arm flew into the air again and the Warden's muttering rumbled on. 'Vargin... Ignorant children... Prophesy...' All of a sudden he stopped and turned on Emeline and Ketiya, who'd started following after him.

'You are the child of the prophecy Emeline Frost.'

Ketiya and Emeline froze mid step. 'Emeline Full,' she thought.

'Soon the end of the age will come. Your time is upon you.' The Warden's grey eyes swirled like storm clouds as he spoke. With one bony hand he pointed at Emeline, and the hand quivered with energy. 'You must see the past, read the page.'

'What does that mean?' Emeline whispered to Ketiya. Ketiya shrugged, looking just as befuddled as Emeline was. See the past? Read the page? Maybe it was some sort of written history of Öldeim she had to read. That's to say if she was the person of significance everyone seemed to think she was. Didn't they know she was just a farmer's daughter from an obscure little northern town?

The Warden snapped out of his trance, turned, and walked to the entrance of the Ysbrug. A huge, dilapidated wooden door loomed high over their heads. The old man lifted a key, hidden under his tunic on a woven leather strap, up around his neck.

The key looked beautiful albeit rusty, with intricate carvings and ancient markings on it. The Warden cackled and polished the key with his bony knuckles before slotting it into the hole in the great doors. Emeline had never seen such a key before.

A loud bang went off from inside the door. A flash of yellow light shone momentarily out of every crack and gap in its decrepit surface, and then the door creaked open all by itself. Emeline's eyes went wide with wonder. Avétk approached from behind, leading all three horses behind him in a row.

'I'll be going first.' Avétk declared with a wuick glance at Emeline.

'Y'mean second don'tcha son?' the Warden said. 'Y'know I gotta check them stones.'

With his walking stick, he smacked the side of the bridge and smiled a mostly toothless smile. Avétk cringed and nodded. Wow, the cursed warrior cringed at this old man! Maybe he was more powerful than he looked.

The crossing was slow going. The old Warden would walk and tap each stone, determining which was safest to tread on. The great white stones spoke as their feet moved slowly, step by step, across the surface of the bridge.

Dust and crumbling stone fell into the great rushing waters of the Ysberg River. Emeline swallowed her fears and kept her eyes on the swirling grey clouds as much as she could, between watching her steps. The sun sank low on the horizon. They paused three quarters of the way, and Avétk passed back their water. Everyone had a good drink. Avétk's forehead dripped with sweat. It was apparent to her eyes that the crossing made him tense and nervous.

The sun was low on the horizon when they finally set foot on the other side of the bridge. Everyone was relieved. The Warden clapped Ketiya's back, cackling as he told a joke. She laughed too, enjoying the safety of solid ground. Emeline smiled at Avétk with the infectious joy of the moment. His yellow teeth appeared as he smiled a crooked smile back at her, waving Abigail's reigns at her. Abigail.

She walked over and all but leapt up onto Abigail's back. Hello old girl. Abigail snorted and shook her mane, obviously just as pleased to be off the Ysbrug.

'Thank you Warden,' Ketiya said. She took both of the Warden's hands in hers and bent low to kiss them. A sign of respect and honour. Avétk came alongside her and bowed his head to the old man too. He smiled and whispered something into Ketiya's ear. She nodded and they parted ways. Interesting.

'Let's be off then.' Avétk said cheerily. He and Ketiya mounted simultaneously.

Oh no.

Emeline could sense it in the air. A great gallop was coming.

'Yah!' Ketiya yelled, digging her heels into Maxim's side. He sped down the trail, and Abigail stomped her hooves restlessly.

Here we go.

Avétk and his steed galloped down towards Maxim, and Abigail followed close behind.

Emeline relished the cool wind in her hair. The race made her feel alive. Abigail's rhythmic snorting and galloping made her feel connected to the wild north.

'Woooo!' Avétk yelled.

They galloped through the snow towards Ysvallëi as the sun set. A supernatural glow of colour touched everything with beauty.

© Joy Cronjé 2015