One by one the four men led their horses over the rockfall and into the tunnel entrance that sloped gradually down deep into the roots of the mountain. They paused together to stare down into the black passage. No one seemed willing to be the first to go into that underground hole.
“Where does the tunnel go?” Aiden wondered aloud.
Valorian shrugged slightly. “The creature didn’t say. It only told me that our way would be shorter.”
“I’m for that!” Gylden replied, trying to sound hearty. He was about to urge his horse forward when Valorian held out his hand.
“Wait a moment. We need some light.” And before his friends’ startled eyes, he formed two small spheres of bright light that dangled over his head like obedient stars.
Aiden laughed, a hint of relief in his voice. “I’d forgotten you could do that. Bless Amara and her gifts!”
The others echoed his sentiment, and in single file, they followed Valorian down the stone tunnel. To their amazement, the broad passageway remained high, wide, and fairly straight. Its floor was smooth and level and ran parallel to the little stream. It was very much like a road delving under the hills to faraway, unknown destinations.
Although the passage was a natural formation, the men noticed a great deal of work had been done to enlarge and smooth the trail. Legends said that the Carrocks were incomparable miners and crafters of stone, and from the appearance of their tunnel, the legends were right. Skilled miners had removed obstructing rock, chiseled away rough spots, even constructed stone bridges where needed. They had also apparently tried to preserve the natural beauty of the caves. The occasional stalactites and stalagmites were carefully preserved, veins of gold or crystal were exposed and polished to reveal their beauty, and colorful mineral formations were kept clean of debris and dust. A few passageways, equally as large and well tended, joined or intersected the road.
Once the riders rode by a stone statue of a squat, manlike figure standing like a guardian by the side of the road. The four men passed by wordlessly. They were awed by the statue, the spacious passageway, and the tremendous amount of labor that must have gone into the creation of both. They never knew anything like this existed.
“What are all of these passages?” Aiden mused when they passed another road intersecting their own.
Valorian peered down it into the impenetrable darkness. Then he looked up at the high ceiling and walls illuminated by his lights. He couldn’t see anyone or anything, but he had the strong feeling that he and his party were being watched. He wondered if they were the first humans to have ever passed through the Carrocks’ domain.
“I don’t know,” he replied, “but I wouldn’t want to come this way without the Carrocks’ permission.”
Aiden stifled a shudder that had nothing to do with the cold, damp air. “Neither would I,” he said.
Time passed without measure in the strange, black tunnels. The men began to grow anxious. They stopped twice to eat and rest the horses before exhaustion finally forced them to make a brief camp. They fed the horses a little grain and lay down on their blankets and tried to sleep. Unfortunately none of the four men could sleep well. The immense weight of the earth over their heads, the confining stone around them, the stifling darkness, and especially the unseen Carrocks played too heavily on the clansmen’s minds. After only a short while, they saddled up and pushed on. Even the thought of fighting snow drifts began to look better than much more of this underground road.
Just as Valorian was about to call another halt, Hunnul nickered. I see light. The clansman stared up the passageway until he too, saw it: the faint, whitish light of day. He whooped with relief. Out went his spheres, and the four men trotted their delighted horses up the road to the mouth of another large cave.
The land was blinding with snow and afternoon sunlight, forcing the men to halt until their eyes grew adjusted to the light. True to the autumn season, the air had turned warmer, and the snow was melting rapidly into puddles and rivulets.
“Where are we?” Gylden called from where he stood outside the cave.
Valorian didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he turned and looked back the way they had come. “Thank you!” he shouted into the blackness. There was no reply, nor did he expect one. He simply wanted to voice his gratitude and hoped the Carrocks would understand.
“I know where we are!” Ranulf cried suddenly. His usually serious face shone with excitement as he said to Valorian, “We’re in that valley that comes out near the ridge where you were struck by lightning. If we spent two days underground, then that road cut off nearly twenty leagues from our original trail. We even went by that canyon!”
“And it was so much easier,” Aiden added. The men grinned at each other. Their anxiety of the underground had vanished in the light, the air, and the pleasure of being so much closer to home.
Four days later they were joyously welcomed back into the camp by both families. This time it was Gylden and Aiden who fascinated the clanspeople with the tale of the journey, and for many days, the people could talk of nothing but Wolfeared Pass and Carrocks.
Kierla was delighted and relieved to have Valorian back. As a gift, she gave him a cloak she had made from the lion pelt. It was heavy, warm, and silky soft, with the hood made from the lion’s head. Valorian hugged her fiercely in gratitude.
The winter settled in in earnest after the first big storm melted away. Kierla’s time quickly approached. The end of the year was quietly celebrated on the dawn of the winter solstice, and the clanspeople began to look forward to spring.
Shortly after noon, five days after the new year began, Kierla went into labor. In Clan custom, she retired to a special tent set aside for lying-in, with only her sister and Mother Willa in attendance. Valorian was left to pace and worry outside. To everyone’s surprise, Valorian’s father’s prediction that Kierla would be a good breeder turned out to be accurate. Despite her age, Kierla easily gave birth to a healthy, kicking boy just as the sun set beyond the canyon walls.
Clan law dictated that she had to remain in the lying-in tent for ten more days. The baby, however, had to be blessed and named immediately so the Harbingers could find him if he died. Mother Willa brought him out, tightly bundled against the night air, and proudly presented him to his father.
Valorian was overwhelmed. With trembling hands, he took his tiny son into his arms, then carried the infant to the priestess of Amara, who was waiting with the water and salt to bless the boy. People from both families crowded around to watch.
As soon as the blessing was over, Valorian raised the baby over his head and shouted to his people, “I, Valorian, accept this child as mine. His name shall be Khulinar, beloved of Amara. Welcome him into the Clan!”
The noise of the cheering penetrated the walls of the tent where Kierla lay waiting for her son to be returned to her. Joy and triumph brought her smile shining to her face. Khulinar’s birth had been a wonder to her, but even more marvelous had been the warm, comforting feeling of Amara’s presence that had stayed with her through the hardest hours of labor. Kierla knew now with certainty that her son’s birth was only the first of many.
11
The winter that year held on with a stubborn determination. The snow fell deep in the mountains, blocking the trails, covering the meadows, and keeping the clanspeople close to their camps. The cold remained steady day after day until everyone wondered if spring would ever come.
Eventually, though, little by little, subtle changes began to happen to the land. The clanspeople, being tied so intimately to the natural cycles of their world, recognized every change and rejoiced in it. Each day the sun rose a minute or two earlier and lingered a while longer in the sky. The bitterly cold temperatures gradually lost their grip on the snow and ice. On sunny days, melting snow sent rivulets of water flowing over the canyon walls to join the small creek at the bottom. In the lowlands, the rivers began to swell and the roads turned to mud.