Part 18

The unseen companion!

Demo notched an arrow to his bow, felt the cool breeze on his fevered face. He drew the bow to its limit, shook his head.

Too far! The arrow would not carry.

He waited, but the creature lay quiet.

"What want you?" he shouted. "Why do you follow me?"

Silence.

Finally, with a shrug, he turned, started once more on his way. After a few steps he halted, looked back again.

It has disappeared! The broad expanse held now only boulders, small shrubs. Lifeless, bare, no hint of motion, other than from vagrant breeze.

Was it but a dream, an aberration in vision?

No! It was real. The bushes at the edge of the clearing were moving, disturbed by the passage of . . . He knew not what. He knew, though it had slipped into the brushes, it would return to his trail. Whatever it be, their destinies were intertwined.

But days ago I knew only my Mother, Theresa and her family well. And a few others but only to a small extent. Suddenly I walk and talk with Gods, and Goddesses - yes, and with imps. And I am followed by something, by a being unlike any other. What does it all portend? The thoughts repeated themselves as he view the clearing.

A foreboding crossed his mind.

One of us shall not survive the tasks of Zeus!

Ever northward he trekked. He did not know why, only that his feet were guided by Zeus. His quest was to the far north.

Game were plentiful, and he ate well. At times he partook of venison, at times of fish from the streams. Rarely, he ate not.

After one repast he knelt by a quiet brook, washing his face and hands.

In the water he saw a visage not his own!

He turned quickly, rose to his feet.

The unseen companion had faded into the undergrowth.

"Come out and face me, coward! Do not skulk and hide, recreant!"

Perhaps a tree branch moved, perhaps a footfall was heard.

Then, nothing.

His eyes widened, as he thought to himself, I must be on my guard. Whatever it is, it becomes bolder with each passing day.

He followed a stream, a path along its edge. The path widened as he climbed upward, and at times footprints could be discerned. A dwelling must lie not far ahead.

At evening he arrived in a small village at the foot of tall, snowpeaked mountains. He found an inn. Walls made from logs, with cracks filled with dried mud, and a rock fireplace as one wall, it formed one huge room. Animal furs, fur of deer, of bear, hung across from one wall to the other, sectioned off little bays where the traveler could rest in limited privacy. Through signs and much nodding and handwaving Demo bartered trinkets for such a room. The nights were growing cold, and this brief respite was welcome.

Suddenly a man standing by the door turned toward him, growled in mixed language at him. Strangely, Demo understood.

"Is he with you? What is he, and why does he loiter in the shadows?"

They crowded through the open doorway, gazing southward to the ravine he had so recently traversed. They stared fearfully toward the shadows at the mountain's base.