Our lanthay struggled through the mounds of snow, the hind passing fruitlessly, and then a shout rang out, calling our attention to a large, dark gap in the whiteness. Word passed quickly of a cave having been found, and all in the set turned their lanthay toward the haven. The thought of so large a cave cheered the males and females alike, after having been so long amid naught save gray sky and white ground. Jalav alone disliked the look of the place, yet Jalav was not consulted—nor would the males have heeded her disquiet had she spoken. Jalav was a savage, and a captive, and knew little of that which males knew. Jalav was now able to make out small, simple words in the book Lialt taught her from, yet such was very little in the eyes of a male.
Gaining the cave was more difficult than the males anticipated. The snow before it, for some fifty gando-strides, had turned to ice, making our approach treacherous in the extreme. Many lanthay slipped and fell, spilling their riders or the load they bore, some plunged through the ice to rocks and hard-packed snow, some balked and refused to travel farther upon the uncertain footing. Surely I thought to see lanthay legs and human necks snapped before all stood within the dryness of the cavern yet, despite all falls and slippings, the entrance was gained without a single loss of life. Ceralt grinned and moved about, ordering torches to be lit, taking one of his own, then leading a hand of males deeper within the darkness of the cavern. Before long many torches were lit, and Ceralt reappeared with confidence restored.
“The cave is perfect,” said he, speaking to Hannil yet looking about at those females who crouched against the cave walls, weary nigh unto death at battling snow and frightened lanthay and cold with no roof above them. “We shall leave the wenches here, comfortable and guarded, and return for them when we have found Sigurr’s Altar.”
“And where might this Altar be found?” rumbled Hannil, much subdued from when he had first joined us. “Should it be much farther, we will not survive to see it.”
“It cannot be much farther on,” said Ceralt, at last giving Hannil his attention. “It is said to lie in the heart of the Peak, not the head but the heart. Lialt will seek out the trail to this heart, saving us from having to search for it.”
“I like this not,” grumbled Hannil, throwing his hood back to shake his head. “The Pathfinder is yours, speaking words you wish to hear. Are we to take a trail, knowing naught of where it might lead, leaving our wenches to what might be their fate?”
“Do you propose we join them here?” demanded Ceralt, patiently keeping himself from taking offense. “What then of the journey we began—and the people left behind us to face the coming strangers?”
“Perhaps the journey was ill-conceived,” muttered Hannil, rubbing a large hand across his face, avoiding Ceralt’s eyes. “Perhaps the strangers will go elsewhere, leaving us to live in peace. I am weary of battling snow and cold, lack of food and adequate shelter, illness and discontent. And I do not care for the look of this mountain. It somehow bodes evil—for all of us.”
Ceralt’s face worked, as though he wished to reply heatedly, yet his temper was soon taken in hand and he nodded toward Hannil.
“I fear we are too weary to discuss this rationally,” said he, letting his own weariness enter his tone. “We shall all spend the darkness here, taking our ease, restoring our strength and purpose. The new light will shine on clearer thoughts and stronger wills. Let us enter farther into the cavern, for the bowels of the earth warm it as though it were spring.”
All seemed pleased with the thought of warmth, and soon were we entering a large room of a cavern, deep gloom chased to corners by the torches held high by males. The lanthay were left near the entrance, and once the torches were set in hastily chopped niches, the males returned to the beasts of burden to fetch sleeping furs and provender and that which the females deemed necessary. No more than four paces within the cavern I had found it necessary to remove my body furs, and soon all had done as I, retaining no more than leathers.
We all moved about upon the center of the wide floor, yet were the walls of greater interest to one who disliked the place. Amid stone growths from floor and ceiling, a hand of side caverns seemed to beckon with dark mouths, whispering of things which hid from our sight and watched us. Perhaps my dislike of the place peopled the farther darkness with enemies, yet the thought was not an unreasonable one. When one has the care of others to consider, one does not settle down to sleep with unconcern. Some males moved about placing things they had fetched, the females chattered happily to one another, other males stretched and laughed and sported with one another, some females fussed and straightened and unpacked that which they could not survive without. No other save Jalav thought to look about her and wonder upon the fate of any others who had perhaps come first to the cavern. The shelter had been easily found—perhaps too easily—yet no sign of earlier visits remained to be read.
The black coals were quickly brought to heat, meals were cooked thereon, and all settled down to feed, converse, then take their ease-of the males, that is. The females were first required to see to the remains of the meal, the cleansing of boards, the desires of their males. Ceralt, having conferred with Lialt and Telion, took his ease with us, far from Hannil, his eye close upon me to see that I did as the other females. He seemed intent upon finding distraction, grinning well when I removed my leather leg coverings. The warmth was such that I would have preferred also removing my boots, yet the sharp, pebbled rock which floored the cavern disallowed so sensible a course. I had nearly removed my chest covering as well, but this Ceralt had refused to allow. The other wenches would protest such immodesty, he laughed, especially as their men might demand the same of them. Best leave well enough as is, said he, and Lialt and Telion, also with laughter, approved his decision.
With all slave chores seen to, Lialt came to demand my attention to another reading lesson. I truly had no desire for such, with unlighted, unguarded openings about us, yet Lialt would not hear of refusal. He took my arm and led me to sit upon a lanthay fur thrown beneath a torch, and soon we were immersed in the effort to show me the sight of words I already knew well, yet only to hear. Some words, I learned, though exact in all respects to another just like it, nevertheless were spoken differently at different times. The need for this escaped me till Lialt thought to speak of them as male and female, exact to one who sees no more than shape, different to one who knows the place of each. I grasped the thought with some difficulty, chewing it with the teeth of my mind, and the cavern grew still in the time we sat beneath the torch.
At last I raised my head to see that all those village folk save Ceralt, Lialt and myself lay upon furs in deep, soul-weary sleep, females beside their males, sharing their furs. Perhaps two or three females yet moaned to the touch of their males, softly so as not to bring the eyes of others to them, helpless even in their embarrassment. Ceralt lay awake in his furs, watching as Lialt and I rose to our feet, then gestured that I was to accompany Lialt to his furs before coming to him. Lialt hesitated before removing his leathers, gazing down upon me as though considering refusal, but the sounds of those who continued awake disallowed his refusal. I was taken in his arms beneath his furs, used softly yet well, then sent to Ceralt with a last, deep kiss. Ceralt, heated more than Lialt had been, filled my soul to overflowing so much so that I failed to stay awake as I had intended, instead finding sleep in the circle of his arms.