“I thought she was fine. It just seemed like after the first couple of weeks, she was as happy as Father,” Van continued, peering through the curtain of snow at the road ahead. “Every time I'd see her she was the center of attention, surrounded by others.” He paused for a moment, then said, “Was that your doing?”
“Some of it,” Stef admitted. “I coached her, and I introduced her to Countess Bryerly and Lady Gellwin. You probably hadn't noticed, but there isn't much 'court' at Court with Randi so sick and Shavri's time taken up with it. The real Court, the social part, has pretty much moved out of the Crown section of the Palace and into the nobles' suites. And those are the two that really run it. Countess Bryerly is distantly related to the Brendewhins, so that made everything fine. Lady Gellwin took Treesa under her wing as a kind of protege, put her in charge of a lot of the younger girls once she found out that your mother did a lot of fostering.”
A month ago, Vanyel would have been deeply upset that he hadn't thought to make sure his mother was well settled in. Now he only said, “Thank you, Stef. I appreciate your helping her,” and continued to peer up the road.
That's not like him, Stef thought, worriedly. I've never seen him so obsessed before. If he thought we could make any better time by getting off 'Fandes and pushing her, he'd do it. I don't understand what's gotten into him.
The snow was getting thicker; there was no doubt about that. It still wasn't enough to stop them, or to slow them by too much, but Vanyel was obviously concerned. He spoke in an absent tone of voice whenever Stef asked him a direct question, but otherwise he was absolutely silent and inward-centered. The morning lengthened into afternoon, and Stef was afraid to ask him to stop for something to eat and a chance to warm up, even though they passed through three villages with inns that Stef eyed longingly. He was hungry, but worse than the hunger was the cold. Snow kept getting in under his hood and melting, sending runnels of icy water down the back of his neck. He could hardly feel his hands or his nose. There wasn't any wind, but they were creating their own breeze just by moving, and it kept finding its way in through the arm-slits of his cloak. And Melody was suffering, too; she walked steadily in Yfandes' wake with her head down and her eyes half-closed; she was tired, and probably missed her warm stable as much as Stefen missed his room and fireplace.
Finally Yfandes planted all four hooves in the middle of the road and refused to go any farther. Melody actually ran right into her rump before the filly realized the Companion had stopped.
Van seemed to come out of a trance. “All right,” he said crossly. “If that's the way you want it, I guess I don't have a choice.”
“What?” Stef said, startled.
“Not you, ashke, Yfandes. She says she's cold and hungry and she's stopping whether I like it or not.” He dismounted and led her and the chirra over to the side of the road, kicking his way through the soft snow. Stef had to make two tries at dismounting before he could get off; he'd never been so stiff and sore in his life, and he had the sinking feeling it was only going to get worse.
But when he got under the tree, he felt a little resistance in the air - and when he passed it, a breath of warmth melted the snow stuck to his hair. It was more than just a breath of warmth; the entire area beneath the branches was warm, about as warm as a summer day; what snow Van hadn't cleared away was melting, and Yfandes was looking very pleased with herself.
“Van -” Stef said hesitatingly. “Is this a good idea? I mean, I guess you used magic to do this, won't somebody spot it?”
Vanyel shook his head. “I used a Tayledras trick; it's how they shield their valleys. From the outside, even to Mage-Sight, this place looks absolutely the same as it did before we got here; snow-covered trees, and no humans. It'll stay that way until well after we've gone on.” He brushed snow from his cloak and grimaced. “There will still be a trace of magic-use here, though, and if my enemy knows I trained with the Tayledras he'll be able to track us by that, about two days behind our real trail. I'd rather not have done this, but 'Fandes said her joints were getting stiff and she had to get warm, so I didn't have much choice.”
Stef had a sneaking suspicion that 'Fandes had insisted as much for his sake as her own, and he gave her a look of gratitude he hoped she could read. To his astonishment, she turned to look right at him and gave him a slow, deliberate wink when Vanyel's back was turned, rummaging in the chirras' packs.
“Could we sort of change direction every once in a while to throw him off?” Stef said, hoping this meant Van was going to warm up their resting place every time they stopped.
“It won't do much good; he knows we're coming north after him, and there's only a limited number of ways we can travel.” Vanyel sighed, and looked over Stef's shoulder as if he wished they could get back on the road immediately.
Stefen ate his meal in silence. Yfandes sidled up to him and he leaned on her, grateful for the support and for her warmth. It looks like the best I can hope for is that he'll wait until I'm warm clear through before getting back on the road.
“At any rate, this is how we'll camp at night,” Vanyel continued, handing him cold meat, bread, and cheese, and two apples. “I don't want to stop at inns; there could be spies there, and I don't want this mage to know exactly where we are.”
Stef split his second apple and fed half to Yfandes and half to Melody. “Whatever you say, Van,” he replied, hoping he'd be able to get back on his horse when Vanyel wanted to leave. “As long as I can be with you.”
Seventeen
Snow fell, as it had fallen for the past three weeks, as it seemed it would continue to fall for the next three weeks. Not a blizzard; the wind, when there was one, was gentle, and the temperature relatively warm. But the snow was wet and heavy; good snow for playing in, as dozens of children making snow-beasts in their yards attested - but it increased their travel time fourfold. Ironically, considering how much stress Vanyel had put on the fact that he would leave Stef behind if he had to, the chirras were forcing a path through the snow for the two riding, and their progress was set by the chirras' pace.
“How many days can a snowstorm last?” Stef asked, huddled on Melody's back, shivering despite woolen underdrawers, a sweater and a shirt under his tunic, and two sweaters and his cloak over that.
“It's not the same storm, ashke,” Vanyel replied, as he consulted a map, then looked for landmarks. They were supposed to reach the last Guard outpost today, at least according to Vanyel's calculations. That outpost marked the end of the lands Valdemar claimed, and the beginning of territory held by no one except wolves - two and four - legged. And other things - the Pelagirs reached into that territory, and where they ended was anyone's guess. Probably only the Tayledras knew. It also marked the point at which Vanyel and Stefen's “easy” travel ended. They'd be leaving the chirras behind, and what little was left of the supplies, and going on with what Yfandes and Melody could carry - and what Vanyel could conjure up.