Faith in Shadows

We raced away from the wagons as if our asses were on fire, Dee leading and me hurrying to keep up. When we got a good 20 wagons down the row, she finally stopped and we caught our breath a bit while strolling at a more leisurely pace through all the platforms and people. Nothing was quite familiar yet, and while I didn't realize it, people were still trying to jockey their wagons into safe arrangements. Dee was chattering on about this and that, about her search to find me, and the hope that Brave Warrior Fonce hadn't given me to some one legged vulo keeper down the alley.

She mentioned missing eyes and blindness, muddied bells and spells. I half listened through the still aching pound of my head, but her words kept falling out and I hoped I could find them later. She was just at the part about missing a chance to ask my Master when I spun around and held her still in front of me, the bells ringing out to vocally deny the mud theory. I wanted to know if He was all right, and once she assured me that He looked well, if not tired, we continued on over the soft grassy ground. I realized, as we walked, I now had two heroes in my eyes. Brave Warrior Fonce, and Brave Friend Dee.

Dee usually knows the layout of the wagons and encampments as if she has a map drawn on the back of her hand. I envy her that familiarity, and understanding, for I so often feel lost and all the wagons tend to start looking the same to me. We had just turned and started up a slight rise, with the wagons we were heading for up on a bit higher ground, when I spotted something. I wasn't sure what it was exactly, but in my mind, it said..go there. I pushed ahead, half with the feeling this was the way to go, and half with the curiosity of wondering what drew me in the first place. When I got to the gathering of wagons, Dee came up behind me and exclaimed, "You found them! How did you do it?"

That was a very good question. The little markers I had painted on the ends of the wagon were hardly visible now, and surely not from a distance. So what was it? It was the red. And the black. I am not sure of the pictures painted on the sides of Master Fonce's wagons. They evoke feelings more than concrete ideas in my head. But one thing I noticed, and I guess is what I spotted from far away..is the brilliant clarity of the red. It throbs on the canvas with the pulse of life, but always, at each stroke that I find, I also find a broad brush of black. I do not know if the red is heart, or courage, love or passion, but it always has a dark shadow touching it. Dee just said "uh-huh" and nodded as if the knot on my head must be worse than she first thought.

We hugged, and I thanked her countless times, assuring her that I would be fine. I told her I had some lighting up to do, and I did. I opened every flap, window, canvas parting I could find and lit up that main wagon like someone had stuck the Central Fire inside it just for Master Fonce. He couldn't help but see...I was home.

When I sat finally, watching a few stars stroll through the charcoal sky, I thought about what Dee had been telling me. There had been injuries, even a few deaths in the crossing. Wagons had been damaged, and even under the best of circumstances, they were wet and muddy. Some canvases were torn and most of the cheerful flag markers had become brightly colored toys for the winds and rain. Those people I had happened to meet in my time here all seemed well as reported by Dee. Only the woman Asria's little girl was ill, and that drew a pall around my shoulders. How lucky I had been.

Someone had pulled me from the swirling deadly water. There had been nothing to mark me as Master Fonce's. A slave with a touch of faith had found me, and a Man with a touch of faith would do so as well.