Jak crossed his arms and glared at the visitor. “Who disturbs our rest on such a night?”
“I am Modi of the warriors,” answered Modi, haltingly, but clearly. It was obvious that he was not used to their speech.
“I am Jak of the Clan Rabing,” said Jak, frowning less. “What can we do for one of the Battleaxe Folk on a night such as this?”
Modi's lips worked for a moment, his huge brows furrowed in concentration. “Gudrin-she is of the talespinners-she sent me. She saw your light.”
At this, Telyn took a half-step forward. Brand eyed her, thinking of her candle. Surely, Modi meant the light from one of the lamps set out to guide Myrrdin.
“There are more of you? Do you need shelter?” asked Jak.
Relief flooded over Modi's face. “Yes, shelter. There is only I… And the Spinner.”
“Why didn't your companion come up with you?” asked Telyn, slipping herself into the narrow space between Jak's shoulder and the doorjamb. “Is he sick? Too weak to walk?”
Modi eyed her critically for a few moments before answering. He seemed to see something that made him uncertain. “Gudrin is not sick. She is… Burdened. She rests in the boat.”
Donning their boots, cloaks and hats, the four of them followed Modi down to the docks in the swirling blizzard. The path was pitch-blackness streaked with white. The world lost its form only a few feet away in every direction. Only the stones along the path kept them from losing their way. Brand realized that the hurricane lamps would only have been visible from a few yards out on the river. He wondered if the Battleaxe Folk had keener eyes than did the folk of the River Haven.
Despite his short legs, Modi marched quickly down the hill. The others had to hurry to keep up, except for Telyn, whose light tread barely seemed to sink into the wind-fluffed powder. Brand was surprised to see that the snow had already piled up in drifts two or three feet high in places. Modi plowed through it all as if it was nothing, giving the impression that snow was no more worthy of notice than mist on a fine morning. Likewise, the freezing wind that whipped his weathered cloak of earthen brown wildly about seemed no more to him than a light summer's breeze. The questions that they shouted at his back were snatched away by the wind, and in any case he answered them all with only broad, vague gestures of his long, thick arms.
When they reached the docks they found a small boat there, made of stiff hides sewn together in the fashion of the Battleaxe Folk. In the middle of the leather boat sat a hunched figure wrapped in cloaks. At their approach, the figure stirred, but didn't rise. Telyn skipped forward, jumping down into the boat beside the figure. Modi stumped forward in sudden concern and stood on the dock, watching her and his companion closely. Brand had a sudden feeling that his eyes were less than friendly. He noted that one bulging fist now gripped the haft of his axe.
Brand rushed forward, putting a hand on Modi's huge arm. It felt as if he had grabbed onto a boulder. “There's no need for that, sir,” he said. “She only wishes to help. She is a good healer.”
Modi looked at him as if seeing him for the first time. His eyes were the color of tarnished steel. Then he returned his attention to the two in the boat. His hand remained where it was, as if he, Brand, were not worthy of concern. Brand wondered if he could even slow the warrior down, should he decide to act.
Gudrin rose up and climbed out of the boat. She mounted the dock with deliberate movements that weren't those of someone frail or sick. She stood on the dock between them all. Telyn jumped up and stood at her side. The River Folk all stared at Gudrin, while she eyed each of them in turn. Modi watched the River Folk. His fist was still firmly planted on the haft of his axe, as if rooted there. Feeling a bit foolish, Brand let his hands slip down to his sides. He knew he was a strong man, very strong for his young years, and he could not but wonder how strong Modi was.
“That's enough, Warrior,” said Gudrin. She made a gesture, and Modi reluctantly released his hold on his weapon. “We are clearly among friends.”
Gudrin, unlike Modi, spoke their tongue flawlessly. Also unlike Modi, she was of normal size for her race, being perhaps four feet in height. The barrel-chested build, long arms and large features were all there, but her hair was dark gray shot through with streaks of white. She wore a black cloak, thigh-high boots and an old wide-brimmed hat of shapeless, colorless material. On her back she carried a heavy rucksack of riveted leather and tucked under her arm was a large package of some kind.
“Greetings, good folk of the River,” she said, her voice booming in the storm. “I am Gudrin of the Talespinners.”
They all nodded politely and introduced themselves. Corbin and Brand moved to help pull the boat up out of the water, so that it would not capsize during the night with the weight of the snow, but Modi waved them off with his large hands. Stumping down into the freezing water, he grabbed ahold of the boat's prow and dragged it up onto the shore single-handed. Lifting up two heavy packs, he unloaded the boat. Then without a word to anyone, he moved back to Gudrin's side, slinging one of the heavy packs over each shoulder.
With Corbin and Brand trailing behind and at a bit of a loss, the party marched back up the hill to the house. When inside they stoked up the fire to a cheery blaze and Corbin worked in the kitchen to feed them something. After his guests had settled and been given steaming mugs of hot spiced tea, Jak asked them if they had caught sight of Myrrdin.
Gudrin looked up sharply at the name. Her eyes narrowed and her lips pursed. She seemed to hold the package under her arm closer to her chest. Her eyes burned into Jak's, and for a moment Jak's face seemed emotionless, frozen. Then Gudrin nodded, as if to herself or someone unseen, and lowered her head. “Yes, yes, we've seen Myrrdin, but not for some time. It is he, in fact, that we've come to find.”
Jak explained why they were on Rabing Isle rather than attending the festivities at Riverton.
“So Myrrdin is not here to maintain the Pact?” asked Gudrin. “That is bad news indeed. I can think of nothing that would delay him from such an important task. Yes, bad news indeed. I believe it is as the signs portend.” She sighed and shook her head. She sipped her spiced tea, while Modi still eyed his mug doubtfully. “Ah, thanks for the refreshment. It has been a long journey.”
“I assume you hail from the North?” asked Jak.
Gudrin nodded, doffing her hat and cloak. “We came to the light,” she said.
“The light?” said Telyn, leaning forward. “How could you see a light in such a storm?”
Gudrin turned to face Telyn, who had been staring at her intently for some time. “And you, my fair lady,” she said. “Where do you hail from?”
Their eyes locked for a few moments, and then Telyn dropped hers. She opened her mouth to speak, but then closed it again. Brand could not hold his tongue. “She is Telyn of the Fob clan,” he told Gudrin. “She is from Riverton, on Stone Island.”
Gudrin looked at him, and for a moment Brand felt the power in her eyes and knew why the others had been acting strangely. Those eyes were incredibly blue and as deep as the open sea-as wide as the sky on a clear summer's day. There was something there, something he'd never seen before. Gudrin gave him just a flash of her eyes before returning her gaze to Telyn. Brand swallowed in relief when Gudrin's attention shifted.
She eyed Telyn a few moments longer and Telyn, for her part, bravely returned her gaze this time for several seconds before again dropping her eyes. Gudrin pursed her lips and nodded. She tapped the package clamped under her arm. Brand had the sudden impression that it was a large book of some kind, probably wrapped up to protect it from the river and the weather.