That night when they feasted us they unbent somewhat, but not much. Their eyes watched us and each other. I thought I understood them better then, because though the Great Hall was hung with lamps they were scarcely wanted: so bright was the glow that came in at the windows. The hills rose above the town and above the hills the sky was red, a heavy crimson from which now and then spouted gouts of orange flame. Seeing this I realized that darkness, which they never truly knew, could be a comforting and friendly thing. They lived their lives under this ominous light and it was small wonder they were soured by it. And there were ugly sounds as well—distant foreboding rumblings as the earth growled in pain.
• • •
North of Marlborough there were no roads and the going was hard. We were climbing, too, at times so steeply that we had to dismount and lead our horses. We reached a crest at last and saw what lay before us.
The volcanoes spanned the horizon in a jagged line from the northeast to the southwest. Some burned and some lay quiet. Before and between them was a landscape of desolation and horror, where rivers of smoking liquid rock crawled through a wilderness of black and gray in which was no living thing. Merely looking at it was enough to cast the spirit down.
The peddler reined his horse between Greene’s and mine. He pointed west of north.
“Those peaks are dead and have been for years. The pass lies between them.”
“How far?” Greene asked.
“Two miles, say, to the place where the pass begins.”
“And the pass itself—another three?”
“About that.”
“With a mile in which the ground is hot.”
The peddler shook his head. “It is hot all the way. Or warm at least. But for a mile it smokes and you cannot put your hand to it.”
Greene patted the water skin on his saddle bow.
“We must hope these things work. It will do us little good to get through with crippled horses. But delay serves no purpose.” He rose, turning in the saddle. “You have been sniveling for warmth all winter. Forward now, and get your bellies full!”
We kept well clear of the smoking rivers. The shoes of our horses struck sparks from hard black rock. They had been heavily shod before we left the city but would not want much traveling on a surface like this to have fresh need of a farrier. In places there were pools of water and these too steamed. One of them, away to our right, spouted high with a noise like a thousand kettles screaming together. Although up to now there had been talking and joking among the men, they rode here in silence.
The pass, rising between two black cones, looked an easy one, though as naked and dark and arid as everything else. We stopped and fitted the leather boots over the legs of the horses. This had been practiced and they endured it patiently. The boots had been cunningly made by the dwarfs, with grease inside to ease their friction, but they must hamper the animals. Small pipes led from the water-skins to the top of each boot, from where containing rings of perforated metal would allow the water to trickle down. All this had been carefully designed, but of course no one had used it yet to ride over smoldering earth.
We led the horses first, this being our best way of judging the heat. The surface was at times hard rock, at others loose and powdery. Reaching down one could feel the warmth. The dust was like sand but large-granuled and black.
Gradually we began to feel it with our feet as well; no more than a glow under the sole at first but the glow increased and became discomfort. I put my fingers to the heel of my boot and quickly drew them back. Greene said:
“I think this is where we make our dash. Mount and release the tap on the waterskin. Stay in single file and keep a distance to avoid fouling the man in front. Do not fall too far behind him, either! Delay adds delay, and Sergeant Bristow brings up the rear. He will not be pleased if he is kept waiting.”
Greene led, followed by his groom and the peddler. Edmund and I came next; then the men and last the Sergeant. Greene signaled an order to trot, then canter, finally gallop. Some of the horses whinnied—from nervousness, I hoped, rather than discomfort. My own, a bay called Garance, was quiet except for the snorting of her breath and the dull thudding of her hooves.
The ground was loose and became looser. It smoked only in patches but the patches were more and more frequent. Drops of water, flung from the horses’ legs, steamed as they touched the black sand. Above on either side loomed the harsh black peaks from which this stone vomit had poured—and might again, since volcanoes could wake suddenly after long years of sleeping.
I felt Garance stumble and recover. If a horse were to fall there would be a turmoil which might be disastrous for all behind, since the track here was too narrow for one to pass another. She had lost ground and I spurred her to make it up. Not that she required much spurring; I guessed she was feeling the heat by now.
It was a long mile. The pass was unvarying and seemed endless. The tiny trickles of water would surely do little against this vast oven we must gallop over. I tried to shut my mind to such thoughts, concentrating on my own mount and that one in front. I got too near and sand, thrown up by the horse’s legs, weirdly cased in leather, stung my face.
Then from ahead Greene’s voice called “Halt!” I pulled Garance in near him; the pass was wider and we could assemble. The ground no longer smoked; at least not here though higher up one saw white plumes lifting. Greene dismounted, knelt and pressed a hand into the dust. Straightening himself he said to the peddler:
“It does not get hot again, lower down?” The peddler shook his head. Greene spoke to us alclass="underline" “Then get these things off before we cripple the beasts. We are through.”
Only then did I look ahead and see that the pass ran downhill to a desert plain like the one we had left behind. But beyond the plain there was a forest, the trees stark yet but with branches budding green.
FIVE
BEYOND THE BURNING LANDS
IT WAS IN A MOOD of relief and relaxation that we headed north. We rode in a chatter of voices that measured the tenseness there had been before. We reached a river and forded its shallow, tepid waters. Halfway across one of the horses put a foot in a hole, stumbled and fell. This was greeted with a roar of laughter, all the louder as the rider picked himself up, cursing and dripping, and berated his mount’s stupidity. We knew what such a mishap could have meant at the top of the pass and so were glad to see it now. Even the one who had fallen laughed with us in the end.
The desert gave way to a scattering of sickly bushes and shrubs, to thicker undergrowth and at last to the forest edge. The trees looked normal enough at first sight though much twisted in shape; but that might have been due to the blistering breath of wind blowing down from the hot slopes so little distant.
It was necessary to ride through untracked woodland before reaching the route the peddler knew. But it was not so dense as to present any great difficulty and in places opened out into glades bearing only plants and low bushes. These were further advanced in growth than similar ones in the south, and I wondered if the underground fires which fueled the Burning Lands might lie nearer to the surface on this side, tempering the winter for them. I asked the peddler and he agreed it could be so: even much farther north, he said, there were warm pools and springs which bubbled, steaming, out of the earth.
Our talk was interrupted by a cry from one of the men. He had sighted what we soon saw was a wild boar, half grown. Greene called us to the hunt and we pursued it through brush as it ran for cover. It would be good to have a supper of roast pork instead of the salt meat we carried in our pouches but I was not optimistic of our catching the beast, especially lacking hounds.
But it moved more slowly than one would have expected and the ground stayed fairly clear. We ran it down within five minutes, Greene himself leaning from his saddle to drive his sword point in behind its shoulder. The boar died with a single ear-wrenching squeal, and the rest of us rode up to the spot.