'I don't like wizards,' said the dwarf.
'I remember you saying that about Asmidir. A black sorcerer, you called him.'
'I still don't like him. Are you still lovers?'
'No!' Her voice was sharper than she intended and Ballistar gazed at her quizzically.
'Did he wrong you?'
She shook her head. 'I don't want to talk about it. I want your help before dusk. I want you to come with me to the far side of the pool and break the ice.'
'Why?' he asked, mystified.
'I need to swim.'
'That's ridiculous! The cold will kill you.'
'You can wait for me with a blanket,' she said.
'There's something you are not telling me. What are you looking for?'
Sigarni stretched out her hand to the fire. The cave was glowing now in the firelight, and the sounds of winter outside only served to make it seem more cosy within. 'I am going to find a small bone,' she said. 'A talisman if you like, a good luck charm.'
'Whose bones?' he asked, wide eyed.
'Ironhand.'
Ballistar's jaw dropped. 'You found his bones? He didn't pass over the Gateway?'
'No. He died here fighting his enemies.'
'How will a bone help you?'
'Enough questions, Balli. Come on, we're warm enough now.'
Together they left the cave and trudged across the snow-covered ice of the pool. Sigarni found the boulder under which the bones lay, and she and Ballistar began to chip away at the surrounding ice with their knives. It was slow work and Ballistar lost his patience. Climbing to the top of the jutting boulder he jumped to the ice, landing hard. Four times more he did so, then on the fifth a large crack appeared. 'Almost there,' he said. Suddenly the ice gave and he fell through into the dark water beneath. Sigarni dived across the ice, her hand snaking out to grab his collar just as he was about to sink. With a great effort she hauled him back.
'You'd better get back to the cave,' she said.
'No, no, I'm all right,' he said, shivering. 'Can you reach the bones from here?'
'I don't know. I'll have to be fast.' Slipping out of her clothes, she slithered into the water.
'Be careful, there's an undertow,' warned Ballistar.
The cold chilled her to the bone, and all was darkness. Holding to the boulder, she released some air and dived deeper. Her hand touched the bottom and she scrabbled around, but could feel nothing but stones. Something sharp cut the palm of her hand. The sudden shock caused her to breathe out and, her lungs aching, she rose towards the surface. Her head thumped against ice.
She had missed the opening.
Holding down panic she rolled to her back, pushing her face towards the ice. There was always a tiny gap between ice and water, and she breathed in deeply. The cold was bitter now and she could not feel her fingers.
'You stupid woman!' she thought. 'To come so far and die so stupidly.'
A faint glow surrounded her. 'Why do you never call for me, child?' asked Ironhand. 'Dive to the bottom and collect what you came for, then follow me to the surface.'
Filling her lungs with air she rolled and dived, kicking out against the ice to propel herself down. In the glow she saw Ironhand sitting on the pool floor; beside him was a human head but she did not recognize the face. On the other side of the ghostly giant lay his bones. Swiftly she grabbed a finger-bone and rose towards the surface.
As she broke clear Ballistar took hold of her arm and dragged her on to the ice.
'I was worried near to death,' complained the dwarf. Sigarni could not speak; she had begun to shake uncontrollably. 'And look, you've cut your hand,' he said, pointing to the trickle of blood on her palm.
Ballistar took up her clothes and led her back to the cave, where she sat wrapped in a blanket, her face and hands blue. 'I hope that bone was worth it,' he said.
'It... was,' she told him. 'He ... is ... here.'
'Who is?'
'Ironhand.'
'Ironhand?' he repeated. 'In the cave? With us?' Ballistar gazed around fearfully. 'I don't see him."
Sigarni shrugged off the blanket and moved a little way from the fire. 'Come and rub my skin,' she said. Ballistar put his hands on her shoulders and began to massage the flesh.
'So now we are dealing with wizards and ghosts,' he said.
'Lower. On my back,' she ordered.
Ballistar knelt behind her and rubbed gently at the cold skin. 'You should sit closer to the fire.'
'No. It would do more harm than good. When I am a little warmer . .. That is nice. Now my arms.'
He sat beside her, kneading her flesh, encouraging the blood to flow. He tried not to stare at her breasts, but failed. Sigarni did not seem to notice. Of course she doesn't, he thought. I am not a man to her.
'I am going to sleep now, Balli. Watch over me, and keep the fire going.'
Holding fast to the bone, she lay down by the fire. Ballistar covered her with two blankets. As she closed her eyes, he leaned down and kissed her cheek.
'What was that for?' she asked sleepily.
'I love you,' he said.
'I love you too,' she whispered. And slept.
*
The fire burned low and Ballistar added the last of the wood. Sigarni's flesh was still cool and the dwarf wandered out into the cold of the night to gather dead wood. The carcasses of the demons still lay where Sigarni had slain them, but they were not rotting; it was too cold for that.
They'll smell bad come spring, thought Ballistar as he wandered beneath the trees, kicking at the snow and seeking fuel.
'Over there,' said a voice. 'Beneath the oaks.'
Ballister leapt, turned and fell over. Standing beside him was a glowing figure in ancient armour, his white beard braided into forks. He wore a long, double-handed broadsword in a scabbard of embossed silver - and the hand resting on it was made of red iron. 'By Heaven, you are skittish,'
said the ghost. 'Are you going to fetch the wood or not?'
'Yes, lord,' answered Ballistar.
'I'm not your lord, dwarf. I am merely a spirit. Now fetch the wood before she freezes to death.'
Ballistar nodded, and dug around in the snow beneath the oaks, gadiering dead wood, then returning to the cave. The glowing figure stayed by him, watching his efforts. 'It cannot be easy to live in such a body,' he said.
'A choice would be pleasant,' muttered Ballistar.
'You've a handsome face, lad. Be thankful for small gifts.'
'All my gifts are small - bar one. And I'll never get to use that,' answered Ballistar, kneeling by the fire and placing two long sticks upon it.
The ghost assumed a sitting position by the fire. 'You can never be sure,' he said. 'I had two dwarfs at my court and they were always in demand. Once I had to adjudicate in a very delicate matter, where a knight cited one of my dwarfs as his wife's secret lover. He wanted the dwarf hanged and his wife burned at the stake.'.
'What did you do? Did you kill them?'
'Do I look like a barbarian? I told the knight that he would be laughed out of the kingdom if he sought a public trial. The wife was sent back to her family in disgrace. I had the dwarf castrated. However, that is not the point. Never lose faith, little man.'
'Well, thank you for your advice,' snapped Ballistar. 'However. I have not yet met a woman who would wish to have me clamber all over her.' He told the spirit of Bakris' jest and Ironhand laughed.
'Nose to nose ... yes, that's very good. How did you respond?'
'I laughed with them - though it broke my heart.'
'Aye, it's the best way." He leaned forward, peering at Sigarni. 'Is she wanning up?' he asked.
Ballistar moved alongside the sleeping woman and touched the flesh of her arm. 'A little. She was seeking your bones. Damn near died for it.'