The witch hesitated, then answered. “There was. It was for that I believe that Osland fought. I could say little. Only that we were beset. Then he was struck down, and I was seized. After that they saw to it that I could work no magic nor call for further help.”
Even as she spoke Wind Dancer came plodding in, so that the discussion broke off. With him he bore another hare, large, winter white, and delectably plump. He sat smugly by Aisling as praise was showered upon him. The first hare was done. Keelan removed it carefully, divided it, then as they ate, he quickly skinned and cleaned the latest catch. That he spitted in turn.
He looked up, his face shining greasily in the firelight. “If Dancer keeps this up we’ll have enough furs for a new cloak.” He wiped his mouth and looked at the grease. “Not to mention getting fat. But with a second hare we have no need to hunt tomorrow. We shall have oatcakes for breakfast and our noon meal. Then cold roast hare and journey bread before we sleep.”
Aisling glanced across the ebbing fire. “And watch for berry bushes. If the hares up here are already in white, then the berries should be ripe for eating also.” She smacked her lips loudly, and everyone smiled.
The fire became coals, Keelan banked it for the night, and they lay down to sleep, Wind Dancer tucking himself into the curve of Aisling’s stomach. The night was quiet. The air was cool but not yet the true chill of winter. Hadrann took first watch and roused his friend short of midnight. Keelan watched until the early hours, then woke his sister. She sat after that, watching the stars fade and first light brighten the sky. Once it was light enough to see she stirred the fire.
Then she went to the small stream, filled the water pot, and hung it over the flames. In one of the saddlebags she had found a small packet of trennen leaves. It was not a large amount, but it would give them a hot pleasant drink for several mornings. The trennen tree grew mostly to the very far south of Karsten. Its leaves had a sweet lemony taste when dried then steeped in boiling water. She waited until the water boiled, added the leaves, and laid out the oatcakes. Then she roused the camp.
They ate and drank peacefully. Once they were done Aisling would have moved to ready their mounts, but Hadrann stopped her. He turned to the witch.
“Lady, are we close enough for you to call your friends? I would not have us walk into ambush, and if they are following your trail they may well be close.”
The girl nodded. “I will see if I can reach them.” Turning her back, she walked apart. With what she did safely hidden, her witch jewel could fall free from where it had lain hidden in her bodice. She took it up and concentrated. There was nothing. She hid the focus again and returned to shake her head silently. Hadrann looked at her.
“How far can your seeking travel?”
“If they were within a day’s ride I would know.”
“Then we halt at noon,” Hadrann said. “You can seek then and again when we camp.”
Aisling and Keelan had the saddled horses waiting. The line of the other unridden beasts was hitched to Keelan’s mount, and they moved off. At midday the witch could find nothing. They halted only briefly and moved off again riding steadily deeper into the coastal foothills. Keelan had handed over the line of spare mounts to his friend and ridden ahead. He came trotting back along the narrow trail.
“There’s a good place half an hour ahead. Grass for the beasts and an old fire pit. It doesn’t look to have been used this year.”
The news was cheering as was the small fire Aisling lit before setting the trennen leaves to bubbling in the water pot. The lemony scent relaxed them as they ate and drank the hot sweet liquid. With the meal done, Aisling turned to the witch.
“Try again, but if you fail maybe I can aid your search. Power can be linked. Two together can do far more than two apart.” She saw the hesitation and spoke reassuringly. “I would force nothing on you, sister. It was a suggestion only.”
The witch considered. “You speak aright. I will try alone. If I fail, then let us attempt to search together.” Her gaze met Aisling’s look. “I trust you, and I do not wish harm to come to any of you. It is unsafe for you to continue across into my own lands if friends do not await us.”
Hadrann spoke wryly. “So it would be if it were you who came with us. But your land may be the safer. If you were openly seen with us in Karsten, no matter who our friends or what our oaths, all of us would probably die. If not sooner then later, maybe after torture as Estcarp spies. Like the lady here,” he indicated Aisling. “I love my land, but I know its faults. Go now and see if you can keep us safe.”
The witch drew apart and sat, cupping her jewel secretly in her hands. She shut her eyes, reached, and then a slight satisfied smile curved her lips. Several minutes later it had curdled. She returned to the fire.
“There are those who search for me, but they have no other witch with them. I cannot speak to their leader. I have not the strength alone.”
Aisling stood quietly. “Then I shall lend you that strength. Come and let us try.”
She hid her own thoughts as they moved away from the camp. Hilarion had taught her well, although from what she had heard in Escore, the training was somewhat different from that the witches received. But she suspected they were equal in strength, she and the witch. And if the girl had her witch jewel, then Aisling had the pendant. She took her companion’s hand as they sat facing each other. The witch cupped her hand about the jewel within the cloth of her robe. Aisling spoke very gently.
“I know that you use a focus. It is safe to use it openly before me. The cloth that covers it will otherwise act to lessen the power. Look, I too use a focus.” She drew the pendant free from its secret pocket as she spoke. The witch bent to stare at it and gasped.
“Old, so old. It is what I felt when first your mind touched me. From where did it come, Lady? From what land?”
“It is a treasure of my house,” Aisling said evasively, “but let us not waste time.”
The witch nodded. Together they slid into the mists of power. Aisling reached out and found the witch. She fashioned a broad beam like a light in her mind, then held it out before her, sweeping it in slow arcs. There! It was the witch who cried out in recognition. The light narrowed, focused, and touched. In a camp many miles away a woman jerked awake. She choked off her instinctive desire to wake her company, then deliberately she lay back, opening her mind to their call but cautiously. There was a change in the familiar feel to the mind-touch.
*Lady, Lady Witch, is it you?*
*It is, good Selarra. I am unharmed and I ride with friends who saved me. One is a woman of power who aids me in speaking with you.*
*What should I do?*
A strange voice came into her head. A woman’s tones with the accent of Karsten. *Lady, the witch does not say, but I must. We who have aided her and now travel with her to bring her to safety are of Karsten. I and my brother and his friend. We slew those who had taken her, and with us we have their mounts. It was in our mind the beasts might go some way to rebuild the damage done by their owners. Look for four riders and many led mounts. We travel west and a little north. I think we may meet toward noon tomorrow.*
*Lady Witch?*
*She speaks the truth, Selarra. She and her companions are of our blood, not wholly but in part. You will greet them in all good seeming. I owe them my life and more.*
The emotion touching Aisling’s mind was doubt, but the soldier was obedient. *At your command, Lady Witch. We shall ride east and a little south.* Again the strange woman’s voice struck in.
*Not so. Stay in your camp, Selarra. You have not traveled deep into Karsten as yet. Better you do not. Let us come to you. That way if aught happens you may ride swiftly to the safety of your own lands and be within them before you can be taken.*