And I?m being entirely truthful the now, which shows just how tired I am, mo chroi!
The fire died down, skillfully banked. He let himself fall into the soft dark…
… and the cave was deep and darker still. Red eyes moved within it, and a gathering wrath that prickled his skin like a summer thunderstorm, and a rank harsh scent and carnivore breath. An earthquake-deep growl spoke to him. A black wet nose explored his face; it was his own height or more, a bear but not quite a bear, longer-limbed and shorter of face and much, much larger than any he knew. The hairy bulk pushed past him, and he heard its feet falling heavy on the rocky floor…
He woke with a little start. Something told him it was hours later, deep night, the hours when the blood ran sluggish. The dream faded, becoming fragments that spun into drowsy nothingness. Somewhere a little ways away a woman?s voice spoke, gasping softly: ?Garo nin, bar melindo, garo nin!?
Rudi grinned in the dark. Somehow he didn?t think the Histories included quite that use of the Elvish words for have me, darling! but he supposed it marked it as a living language once more. And you couldn?t begrudge newlyweds.
Let them have what pleasure they can. I suspect this is going to be a grim journey, and no mistake.
Major Graber looked down grimly at the rent and bloody carcass of the Bekwa sentry. Teeth grinned back at him where the face had been stripped away, and even in the cold there was a slight rusty-iron smell of death, and something musky beneath it. ?Tiger or bear,? he said.?Possibly a catamount. Not much eaten.?
Though there was a great deal spattered, bits of flesh and hair up ten or twelve feet on the neighboring red spruces. One of his lieutenants bent over a patch of snow, fingers moving with steady delicacy. More was sifting down, but you could separate layers if you were skillful. ?Bear, Major,? he said. ?That?s the third one this week,? Graber said.?It?s delaying us. We?re not going to catch them at this rate. Especially if it keeps snowing.?
He glared at the High Seeker for an instant, before self-control reasserted itself. The Bekwa dogsleds were far faster than he?d thought they would be, but snowshoes just weren?t as good as skis when you tried to make speed, and their scavenged horses were losing what condition they?d had. Soon they?d have to start eating them, which would slow them further.
Dalan looked at him, then up at the low clouds, then to the north and east. Two of the savages? shamans were behind him. Their movements followed his exactly, as if they and his shadow were all linked by invisible cords. One of them was weeping from an expressionless face, tears freezing on the skin. ?We can gain on them if we go that way,? he said, and pointed.?We cut the cord of their arc. And… if we miss them there, another Seeker was sent this way last year. He will await us with supplies and help. On the river the ancients called Lawrence, near the ruined city of Royal Mount.?
Graber nodded; he was well schooled in mathematics, which were one of the languages of the Ascended Masters, and useful besides, and in maps. ?As you command, High Seeker,? he said.
The wind howled counterpoint as he gave his orders. He shivered a little; not with the cold, but with the gray sameness of it. Had there ever been anything but pursuit and fight and endless trudging? Had he ever ridden in the flower fields of spring, with the wind blowing keen pine-scented sweetness from the slopes of the Tetons? Or sat of an evening after dinner and watched his son take his first steps, laughing as he waved chubby arms?
No weakness! he told himself sternly. The Prophet gave you this task himself, and you knew death in a foreign land was the most likely outcome. ?Bad, Chief,? Edain said succinctly.?They got hit less than a week ago, I?d say. More than a day. Hard to tell closer, in this icebox of a land.?
Rudi looked over the little steading. Four or five families had dwelt there, in two long houses. They?d had a fishing boat for use on the northernmost of the great inland seas. That stretched northwards, frozen now, towards a little rocky islet half a mile away. The only remarkable thing in sight was the bow of a broken ship of the ancient world, towering in crumbling rust-eaten majesty where some storm had driven it on the rocks and broken its back.
The shore bore some scratched-out fields in the rocky earth, with low pine and birch and aspen elsewhere. Shaggy stretches of bush marked ground which would be bog in the warm season, rich in berries and grass. The dwellers had probably hunted a good deal-the travelers had taken several deer they found in a winter yard not long ago themselves-and mined the wreck for metal to work up and trade elsewhere. A modest rectangular barn hinted at livestock, and a substantial smithy near it had two fieldstone chimneys. From the look of things he?d have guessed that the whole had been put up after the Change, but mostly of old-world materials salvaged from nearby.
There was no smell of woodsmoke, and the cold was bitter. It had more moisture in it than usual, too, and that made it cut harder and sap the strength more. ?All dead,? Pete said, and spat.?I knew these people here. They were clean. My folks lived a bit east and south, and we traded with ?em. Whoever hit here, they call the Wendigo to themselves on purpose.?
Edain nodded.?Parts of them are… gone. Like it was a rite.?
He looked indignant at that, at the profanation of sacred things as much as the cruelty. ?They?re pinned to the walls, what?s left of them. It went hard for them, even the little ones.?
The younger Mackenzie spat, to show what an honorable warrior thought of such dealings. He also held out a broken bit of arrow, just enough to show the black fletching and neatly made horn nock. ?This was in one of the bodies outside, where they tried to fight.?
Rudi rolled it between his fingers, then made a gesture that brought the core of his questers gathered around him. ?Any fodder left?? he asked. ?No grain,? Edain said.?That was cleared out-oats and rye, it was, from the few kernels left, and spuds. Plenty of hay still, to be sure. No clover in it, looks like marsh grass, but lots of it and well cured.? ?Good. We?ll let the horses gorge; and we?ll have shelter.?
Edain shook his head violently.?I?ll not be sleeping under that roof, Chief.?
Rudi smiled mirthlessly.?I wouldn?t either. No, the houses we?ll burn, to make Earth clean of it. The barn will do for us and our beasts as well.? ?That?ll draw them,? Ritva warned.?It?ll tell them exactly where we are.? ?Sister of mine, I?m counting on it. Pete, what?s the ice like out there?? ?Thicker than it should be. More like Christmas, or even Janvier, maybe. But it?s spotty and don?t go too far out. Still too thin to carry any weight in some places, foot or better thick in others, so you could drive a sled or even ride horses over it.?
Ingolf nodded.?Some places hard as rock, and then you hear a crackle. Seemed to me it?s thicker eastwards. Piled up by the current, maybe. Snow?s wind-packed on the surface, not too deep except drifts here and there. Like Pete says, it?s way, way ahead of time.?
Rudi looked out over the lake, out to where white ice faded into the white-gray sky without a perceptible horizon. The surface wasn?t table smooth, as he?d imagined it would be; it was more as if waves themselves had frozen, with lumps like congealed porridge here and there, and it was covered with hard-packed snow driven by the wind into rippled patterns. The rocky islet was visible on the edge of sight, topped by a few twisted pines; only the shipwreck made it easy to spot now. Wisps of snow or ice crystal scudded over the surface, gusting up man-high now and then, ankle deep most of the time.
He thought for a moment longer, then held up the stub of arrow:?I think this was done by our un-friends,? he said.?Not just the Sword of the Prophet-say what you like of the Cutters, they aren?t Eaters. They?ve picked up local allies, such as our friend Walks Quiet warned they might have.?