Vannor shrugged. “Meiriel will be in good company— you’re all bloody mad! I don’t know why Elewin is so sure that he’s the only one who can take care of her—she’s been lucid enough since she came with us.” Suddenly his gruff reserve broke, and he flung his arms around Parric with tears in his eyes. “I’ll miss you, you idiot,” he muttered. “Take care of yourself—and for the sake of all the Gods, come back safe.”
“Count on it.” Parric returned the hug, his own voice choked with emotion. “Don’t worry about commanding the troops, Vannor. They know their business, and they’ll keep yon right. Besides, once you’ve found Eilin, she’ll give you the help you need. I’ll be back before you know it, and what’s more, I’ll bring that wife of yours with me.”
“I hope so, Parric, I truly hope so.”
The following evening, Vannor stood with Dulsina and Zanna on the grassy clifltop as the pallid sun set over the hills behind him. The air was chill with the unnatural winter that had lingered this year, but the view was glorious. Below and to his right was a pale sweep of crescent beach, embraced by cliffs and cradling the calm, shining sea. Some half-league distant on the opposite horn of the crescent was a green knoll, crowned by a stark and sinister standing stone. Directly below the merchant’s feet, a vee-shaped niche hid the beginnings of a narrow crumbling path that descended the cliff. Apart from the secret tunnel for the horses, this perilous, well-guarded ledge was the only landward access to the smugglers’ stronghold.
“Having second thoughts?” Yanis approached, panting from his climb up the steep path. “You ought to,” the smuggler went on. “Why take your folk inland, Vannor? It’s safer here, and you’re welcome to stay. Your children are brokenhearted that you’re leaving them again.”
“That’s what I’ve been telling him,” Dulsina put in.
The merchant sighed. “This place is no good to us as a fighting base, Dulsina, as you very well know! All these objections are only because I wouldn’t let you come!”
Dulsina shrugged, and raised an eyebrow. “Your mistake, Vannor,” she said serenely. Vannor scowled, wishing they would leave him alone. It was bad enough parting from his children again. Tney were all he had, now . . . Nonsense, he told himself. Sara is with Aurian, and she’ll be all right . . . And Parric had promised to bring her back. Vannor hated to admit that this was really why he had allowed the Cavalrymaster to talk him into his crazy scheme.
“Anyway, Yanis,” he said, picking up the thread of the conversation. “It’s my children and your people that I’m thinking of. They’ll be safer if we’re away from here.”
“But the Valley has an evil reputation now,” Yanis protested. “They say the Mage Davorshan was killed there.”
“That’s exactly why I’m going! Davorshan’s death was no accident, I’m sure. After what happened to Aurian and Forral, the Lady will protect us—you can count on that.”
“But the risk in getting there! Angos is combing the countryside looking for you!”
“We’ll be careful. And the Valley is a far better base for us —more central, and nearer the city.”
“That’s what worries me,” Yanis said glumly. “Well, I’ll let you go. If we hear any news of Parric in the south, I’ll try to get word to you. The Gods go with you, my friend. And don’t worry, I’ll take care of your children.”
“Goodbye, Yanis—and my thanks for all you’ve done,” Vannor told him, reflecting that in the case of one of his children, it might end up being the other way around.
“Take care of yourself,” Dulsina told the merchant, “since I won’t be there to do it for you!” she added tartly.
“Goodbye, Dulsina.” Vannor hugged her. “Take care of Zanna for me, won’t you?”
“As if Zanna couldn’t take care of herself!” the housekeeper snorted. “It’s you idiot men I’m worried about!” With that, she left him to say his farewells to Zanna.
But there was little need for words between father and daughter. They had said it all already. “Don’t you dare marry that smuggler of yours before I get back!” he teased her gruffly. “That’s a wedding I don’t want to miss!”
Zanna hugged him. “Then you’d best get a move on, Dad.” She looked up at him through her tears. “I don’t plan to wait forever, you know!” For a long moment they looked at each other. Zanna bit her lip, and her arms around him tightened. “Bye, dad.” She whirled, and was gone.
The merchant turned away, back to his waiting rebels. Perhaps it was the confusion of the departure, perhaps it was the tears in his eyes—but he never noticed that he was one man short.
As soon as Vannor’s troop had vanished over the nearest rise, the gorse that concealed the horses’ tunnel parted. Zanna emerged, followed by Dulsina, dressed in warrior’s gear—and the grizzled veteran Hargorn, carrying two packs. He looked at them and shook his head. “The Gods know why I let you talk me into this,” he sighed. “Vannor will have my bollocks off— Begging your pardon,” he added hastily, to a frigid look from Dulsina.
Zanna grinned. “It’s because you love us,” she teased him. “Are you ready, Dulsina?”
The housekeeper smiled wryly. “I hope my old walking muscles come back quickly,” she said dubiously.
“With respect, ma’am, they had better!” Hargorn snorted. “We can’t afford to let you slow us up—and you’d better hurry, if we want to catch the others now! Vannor won’t notice if we slip in quiet, at the back.”
“Don’t worry, Hargorn. If Vannor can do it, then so can I. The man hasn’t walked anywhere in years!” With a hug for Zanna, Dulsina shouldered the pack, and raised her eyes heavenward. “The things I do for Vannor,” she sighed.
“The things you do for love, you mean,” Zanna murmured softly, as Dulsina strode away into the dusk.
Smiling, she began to pick her way back down the cliff to find Yanis.
Where in the Pits of Torment are we? Vannor wondered. The partings with his family and friends seemed like a long-ago dream. The rebels had been wandering for days on these bare, blighted moors that stretched from the sea to Eilin’s Vale. Because they had been forced to keep to the winding valleys for concealment from the searching bands of mercenaries—far more numerous than Vannor had expected—they had soon become lost. And now they were doubly lost in this pitch-black nighr, for clouds had dropped to the hills, shrouding them in a thick clinging mist that brushed the merchant’s face like cold cobwebs.
Vannor curbed, as he’d been cursing for days. What had the Magefolk done to the weather? By the calendar, it should be haytime going on harvest, and these hills should be basking in sunshine, swathed in the vivid green of young bracken and the cloudy purple of early heather, the sky a deep blue bowl filled with the wild, bubbling joy of the skylark’s song. But spring had never come this year, let alone summer, and the land was withered and sere. People would be starving now, Vannor thought. Those who had died in the Night of the Wraiths might have been the lucky ones.
The grim, wintry weather preyed on the merchant’s spirits, sapping his courage and hope. If only Parric were here, with his military skills and unquenchable spirits! He wouldn’t have got them lost in a fog! If they had had horses, instead of having to make this slow and winding journey on foot, they could have reached the sanctuary of the Valley days ago! But there were no horses to be had. The smugglers had not had enough to supply them, and most of the others had probably been eaten already, Vannor suspected. Parric had trusted him to take care of the rebels—and a fine mess he was making of it! “I’m no good at this!” he muttered helplessly. “Oh Parric, why did you have to go?”
In desperation, Vannor had left his band and crept to the top of this hill, hoping to pierce the mist that lay in the Valley like a deep gray river. But it was no good. Even up here, he could see nothing. “Fional? Hargorn?” he whispered to the scouts who had accompanied him. There was no reply. Confound them! Had he not warned them to stay close? Sound carried in fog, and he dared not call out to them. The hills were alive with Angos’s soldiery. If they were lost, there would be no chance of finding them_JTL this murk. Angry at their stupidity and worrying about their safety, he set off down the hill to rejoin his troop.