They were away shortly after the coffin started to burn. Just prior to their departure, Kitalia excused herself to run back inside and Kre took that opportunity to grab the burlap sack of Terync’s few belongings and tie it onto the horse opposite his own bag. He would gladly suffer Kitalia’s withering gaze if it meant that he got to retain Terync’s possessions and see them delivered to the Citadel in his memory.
They rode in silence for a while, each honoring the unspoken need of the other for reflection on recent events. As would be expected, it was Kre that broke the silence first.
“You were never really their prisoner, were you?” He thought back to how badly she had been treated as the Rangers paraded her around with the rope and briefly wondered if he were crossing a line with his question. “I mean,” he added quickly. “I just mean that it seemed like you could have gotten away earlier.”
Kitalia was silent for several seconds. She didn’t even look at her riding companion while he waited for an answer. “There is a bird in our forests. We call it the kili’di. It is a small bird that makes homes in bushes low to the ground.
“When a predator comes into close proximity of a kili’di nest, the bird flies to a different area, pretends to be injured, and screeches with a shrill call, the purpose of which is to convince a would-be predator that there is easier prey elsewhere other than the kili’di’s nest.”
Kre thought about it for a moment, trying to place her story in the context of his question. “So, are you the kili’di in this situation? Saving me from the Rangers?”
Kitalia laughed, which was like the jingling of a bell, and regarded her companion with an amused look in her eyes. “You wish to be a baby kili’di? Dependent on a mama bird to save you from the fierce predators of the world?”
“Well, no,” Kre stammered back. “I just thought… I figured you were talking about the kili’di birds and I had just asked about you pretending to get arrested by the Rangers.”
“I can assure you, I was in their custody. Is that a position that you would voluntarily place yourself in?”
Kre sighed as he admitted, “I suppose not. I’m sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“You are forgiven this time.”
They rode on for several more minutes before Kre tilted his head to one side and tried to puzzle through her words again. “You didn’t really answer the question though, did you?”
“I did,” she replied. “You simply are unable to comprehend the meaning yet. It takes time to find the truth in words. It always does.”
“You sound a little like Ser Terync,” Kre admitted, a hint of sorrow creeping into his voice. “He always answered questions with stories and metaphors and never explained himself afterwards. He would just say that when the time came, the meaning of the words would become clear.”
“He is a very learned man then.”
“Was,” Kre corrected, a crack sounding in his voice this time.
Kitalia nodded, “I apologize. He was a very learned man. His statement is reminiscent of old Ylveryan elders sharing knowledge across generations.”
“Do the Dragon Knights use the Ylveryan teachings?”
“I am not a Dragon Knight. I do not know what they teach.”
More silence followed by a loud yawn from Kre. “Where are we going?”
Kitalia gestured in the direction they were headed. “That way.”