Watching him, Agreth’s uncertainty returned. This was the man that Oslang called his leader? What was he doing?
Finally, Andawyr bent down, made a snowball, placed it carefully on top of his handiwork and stood back to admire the result-a tiny snowman.
‘There,’ he said, beaming. ‘Isn’t that splendid?’ He saluted the small figure. ‘Enjoy the view little fellow. Enjoy the peace and quiet. No one will disturb you when we’ve gone. Have a happy winter. Light be with you.’
Brushing the caked snow from his arms, he turned to Agreth who was struggling to keep his doubts from his face. Andawyr laughed. ‘Don’t worry,’ he said. ‘I’m still here. But the day I can’t appreciate being eight years old, will be a sad one for me.’
Then he was off again, as briskly as the snow would allow. ‘Come on,’ he shouted over his shoulder. ‘We’ve a long way to go yet.’
Agreth patted his horse hesitantly, as if for reassur-ance, then set off after him.
Later in the day, the snow stopped falling and the sky lightened a little, bringing more distant peaks into view, which Andawyr dutifully identified for Agreth on his map. They walked on slowly and carefully, some-times talking, sometimes in silence, sometimes just concentrating where they were putting their feet as they negotiated steep and treacherous slopes.
As they walked, however, they moved gradually downwards, away from the colder heights, and the snow became less deep. Eventually, reaching the valley floor, Agreth announced that they could ride for a spell, and Andawyr found himself astride the horse in front of the Muster rider.
‘Feel like an eight-year-old again?’ Agreth asked, laughing.
Andawyr looked down nervously at the snow-covered ground passing underneath his dangling feet. It was much further below than he had imagined when he had been looking up at the horse. ‘It’ll take me a little time,’ he said dubiously.
Agreth laughed again.
Being able to ride from time to time enabled them to make good progress, and late in the afternoon Andawyr professed himself well pleased. Towards nightfall, however, the snow started to fall again, and the wind rose suddenly, obliging the two men to make their camp in some haste. As they pitched Andawyr’s tent, the landscape around them slowly began to disappear in a whirling haze.
At last, Andawyr ushered Agreth into the tent and then struck the beacon torch with some relish. As he joined him inside he found that the Muster rider was examining one of the radiant stones.
‘These have been baked, without a doubt,’ he said in a tone of irritated regret, throwing the stone back with the others. ‘You should have a word with whoever does your buying.’
‘I will,’ Andawyr replied, a little more tersely than he had intended, then without hesitation he ignited the stones as he had the previous night.
Agreth started at the sudden flare of light, his face suddenly fearful.
‘I’m sorry,’ Andawyr said. ‘I didn’t mean to startle you. There’s nothing to be afraid of. It’s just… ’
‘I know what it is,’ Agreth interrupted. ‘It’s the same power that Oslang knocked Drago down with. The same power that Oklar used on Vakloss.’ He looked dis-tressed. ‘You saved my life and I feel no harm in you-nor does my horse, and he’s a far better judge than I am-but I am afraid of that.’ He pointed to the stones. ‘It’s terrifying.’
Andawyr stared into the warm comfort of the stones. The sudden tension inside the tent was almost palpable. Only the truth could ease it, he knew. ‘Yes, you’re right,’ he said after a long silence. ‘It is terrifying. But not here, not in this tent. Here it’s warmth and light. You don’t need to be told that the essence of a weapon lies in the intention of the user, do you?’
He looked up at Agreth, his face stern. ‘We’ve hard times ahead of us, Muster rider,’ he said. ‘We must learn to see things the way they are, with our fear acknowl-edged, but bound by our judgement. Fear this power as you would any other weapon; when it’s used against you by your enemies, not when it brings you aid and comfort in the darkness.’
Agreth was unconvinced. ‘My head accepts what you say, but here… ’ He patted his stomach and shook his head. His face contorted unhappily as he searched for an explanation. ‘I don’t understand what it is,’ he said finally. ‘And how can I defend myself against such a power when it is used as a weapon?’
Andawyr looked into his eyes, and then returned his gaze to the stones. Again, only the truth was safe. ‘You can’t, Agreth,’ he said quietly after another long silence. ‘You can’t. Only I and my brothers can protect you.’
Agreth stared at the prosaic little man with the squashed nose; the little man who made snowmen in the middle of nowhere and who was nervous on a horse.
‘Are you enough?’ Agreth said after a brief hesita-tion.
Andawyr shrugged. ‘Who can say?’ he replied. ‘But that’s a two-edged question. Are you enough in the Muster to protect us against the swords and arrows of Sumeral’s mortal army, when we’re extended to our full protecting you against His Power and that of His Uhriel?’
Agreth looked at him intently, then he too shrugged.
Andawyr leaned forward. ‘We’ll all have our sepa-rate parts to play,’ he said. ‘And we’ll all be dependent on one another as well. We must learn each others’ strengths and weaknesses-what we each can and can’t do-and we must learn to trust where full understand-ing is not always possible. What else do we have?’
Agreth nodded pensively and the tension seemed to ease. ‘I suppose you’re right,’ he said. ‘Oslang said more or less the same.’
Despite himself, Andawyr chuckled. ‘I should imag-ine he did,’ he said. ‘A Goraidin’s knife at your throat could breed great eloquence, I’m sure. Poor Oslang.’
Agreth stared thoughtfully at the radiant stones. ‘It’ll take some getting used to,’ he said. ‘But you are right. Without your power, we’d be having a very uncomfortable night tonight, even maybe at risk of dying. And what would be the consequences of that? I’d probably be no great loss, but the leader of the Cad-wanol…?’ He let the question hang. ‘So just keeping us warm here is using this terrible power of yours-whatever it is, or whoever’s it is-to oppose Him already.’ He lay down and gazed up at the roof of the tent. ‘These flickering stones are the lights of the vanguard of the army that will come forth to meet the Great Corrupter,’ he said with mock rhetoric.
Andawyr laughed at his mannerism. ‘Very meta-phorical, Muster rider,’ he said. ‘Very metaphorical. I see you’ve a flair for the broad sweep.’
‘I’ve painted a few house ends in my time,’ Agreth said drily.
Andawyr laughed again, then he too lay down. The tent was warm now and he dimmed the glow of the stones. ‘Better if the enemy doesn’t see us coming too soon,’ he said, still chuckling.
Agreth grunted amiably.
Soon the two were sleeping soundly, oblivious to the moaning wind that twisted and swirled the snow around their small shelter, streaking black-shadowed and white across the bold unwavering light thrown by the beacon torch.
A figure stepped cautiously to the edge of the light, and two more, swords drawn, moved silently to either side of its entrance.
Something nudged Andawyr gently into silent wake-fulness. It was Dar-volci. ‘Visitors, Andy,’ he said. ‘Very quiet, too.’
‘Stay out of sight, and watch,’ Andawyr whispered. Then, giving Dar-volci the lie, a voice cried out above the wind.
‘Ho, the camp!’
Chapter 3
‘Look,’ said Loman, pointing up at the four figures on the skyline. ‘That’ll be them. Fyndal’s post rider said they’d be here soon.’
Hawklan followed Loman’s gaze and smiled. He reached up and touched Gavor’s black beak. ‘Go and show them the way home,’ he said. ‘They’ll be frightened to death by all this. We’ll join you as soon as we can.’
The raven chuckled, then stretched out his great wings and floated up into the air.
Hawklan’s comment was accurate; the scene around them was indeed intimidating. A great host of people was strung out in a long winding line that disappeared into the woods fringing the nearby hills to the east. Some were riding, some were walking, and some were riding on the equally long line of wagons that was threading its way through the centre of the crowd.