“Any idea who it could be?”
Aiden shook his head. “Whoever it was was too clever to reveal his Clan identity. But that’s not the worst of it.” He hesitated and cleared his throat. “General Tyrranis has issued orders for your arrest. The Tarnish garrison is sending detachments up to look for us. ”
“On what charges?” Valorian asked quietly.
“Failure to pay the tribute, insurrection, and. . . suspicion of murder.” Aiden’s voice hesitated. “Do you suppose they found the bodies?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. Or maybe the Tarns are just guessing,” Valorian answered.
Aiden tried to see his brother’s expression, but Valorian was turned slightly, and his face was lost in the darkness. He was very still. “I heard some good news you might like,” Aiden offered. When Valorian didn’t say anything, he went on, “It’s been confirmed that the Twelfth Legion crossed over Wolfeared Pass this summer. They’re in Sar Nitina, waiting for transport downriver to the gulf. The Ramtharin Plains are abandoned.”
Valorian smiled then. He reached out and clasped his brother’s shoulder. “Thank you,” he said. Then he turned Hunnul and disappeared into the night to finish his watch.
Ten days later Valorian’s family was still on the move and still uncertain of where they would go. They had traveled higher into the hills every day, setting up camp in a new meadow each night and staying one step ahead of the numerous scouts and Tarnish detachments that were sweeping the lower hills for some sign of Valorian. The family realized the danger they were in, but they were growing disgruntled and worried. Snow mantled the mountain peaks, flurries had already dusted the lower hills, and the nights were growing cold. The time was well past for the family to establish their winter camp. If they waited too long, they would have a very cold, hungry, and miserable time ahead. Yet no one, not even Mother Willa, could think of a suitable place to go that would be safe from the Tarns for the entire winter.
Valorian had toyed with several ideas, including wintering at Stonehelm, but although he knew Lord Fearral was too honorable to be the one responsible for spreading the rumors of his activities, he didn’t trust the people of the town. The village was too open and vulnerable.
In fact, he didn’t know who to trust anymore, outside of his own family. Anyone in the Clan, for any number of reasons, could have gone down to the Chadarian villages and spread tales, and that same person could easily reveal Valorian’s location. He decided that once he got his family settled somewhere, he would keep moving. He could visit the camps, continue talking to the clanspeople, and, with luck, keep the Tarns guessing over his whereabouts. He could even go south and see Wolfeared Pass for himself before the snow clogged the hills. Staying on the move would also help keep the soldiers away from his family.
Early one afternoon, when his thoughts weighed heavily in his mind, he slowed Hunnul to a walk beside the cart carrying his tent, his few possessions, Mother Willa, and Kierla.
Kierla was over six months into her pregnancy by now, and the bulge of the baby was becoming quite evident under her bulky skirts. She smiled at her husband until a hard jolt from the cart knocked the smile from her lips. He watched her worriedly as she tried to settle herself more comfortably on the cart seat.
Mother Willa irritably slapped the reins on the rump of the old mare pulling the cart and pursed her lips. “You know we can’t go on much longer like this,” she said tartly to her grandson. “Kierla needs rest before her confinement, not all this jouncing around.”
He agreed. Kierla was past the prime age to bear children, and he was already deeply worried about her.
Kierla laughed at them both. “I’m fine!” she cried. “I’ve never felt stronger or happier in my life, so don’t waste your worries over me. Just think of a place to go so we can set up some ovens. I have the strongest craving for some freshly baked bread.”
Valorian chuckled at her. He had to admit that she did seem to be in excellent health. So, by the gods, if it was bread she wanted, then somehow she would have it!
Just then a shout went up from the head of the caravan. Ranulf came galloping over to Valorian and called, “A rider coming. A clansman!”
Hunnul cantered forward past the carts, horses, and people to meet the approaching rider. Valorian recognized with pleasure the rider’s bright hair. It was Gylden.
The rider waved his arm and hallooed at the caravan in obvious relief and happiness. He cantered up to Valorian, his red cloak snapping in the cold wind, and greeted his friend. “Valorian! Am I glad to see you! I’ve been looking for you for almost seven days. No wonder the Tarns can’t catch up with you.”
“You know about that?”
“Everyone does. Word spreads fast. That and the fact that the Tarns have stopped every family they could find. They’re really anxious to catch you.” He studied Valorian intently before he said, “Something about a suspected murder?”
For a long breath, Valorian hesitated. His first reaction was to keep quiet and not extend his trust any further than he had to. Only his family knew the circumstances of Sergius’s death, and it would be safer if no one else learned the truth. Then he felt ashamed. Gylden was his oldest friend. How could he gain the Clan’s respect and trust if he couldn’t extend the same to those around him?
“That part is true,” he explained to his friend. “Sergius Valentius was trying to take Kierla. I struck him with a bolt of magic before I remembered I had the power. We hid his body up in the mountains.”
A cloud fell away from Gylden’s handsome face, for he realized how much Valorian was trusting him with that information. He was both relieved and pleased. It made his news for Valorian that much more gratifying. “That isn’t murder,” he snorted. “That’s just snake killing.”
“Not to the Tarns,” Valorian replied dryly.
Aiden and several of the other men on horseback joined them at that moment, and Gylden brought up the reason that had sent him chasing after them.
“We knew you might be in trouble when we heard about the charges brought against Valorian, so Father had an idea. He wants you to come winter with us.”
Valorian chuckled with a mix of surprise and disbelief. “Your father? I thought he would have nothing to do with me without Lord Fearral’s approval.”
Gylden didn’t take offense. His father was known to be set in his ways. “I’ve been talking to him,” he said with a grin. “I had to do something to earn all those pregnant mares. And gods’ truth, Valorian. He knows a place deep in the Gol Agha that he says will shelter both of our families through the winter. He wants you to come.”
“Gol Agha?” Aiden questioned. “The canyon of the winds? I didn’t know there was any place in there worth camping for a day, let alone several months.”
“I didn’t either. But Father swears it’s there. He sent several scouts out to check on it while I came to find you.” He tugged at his mustache and glanced at Valorian. “Will you come?”
“You realize that we could be putting your family in great danger,” Valorian said.
Gylden didn’t hesitate. “Of course.”
The clansman looked to his brother and the other men around him. The hope and relief on their faces melted the last of his reservations. If Gylden and his family were willing to risk hiding them, then he wasn’t going to argue further. He felt relief lift the weight of worry “from his shoulders. “We’ll come,” he said. Then he trotted back to Kierla and told her the news.
“Praise Amara!” she cried in delight. “We’ll have bread by the Hunting Moon.”
And she was right.
By the time the next full moon, or “the Hunting Moon” as the clanspeople called it, swelled over the Darkhorns, the two families had joined and traveled south of Stonehelm deep into the mountains to the canyon called Gol Agha. The wide canyon mouth, aptly named the Place of the Winds, faced the northwest, catching storm winds and the winds of winter like a giant funnel. The reddish brown canyon was never still or silent from the winds that surged down its long length. They keened and whined and howled and sang, sometimes so strong a man couldn’t stand upright in their passing.