But winter wiped any advantage of the roads, so the group headed straight north, intent on cutting through the Bokagul. The tall mountains dominated the horizon, and snow blanketed them. When winds had blown all the clouds away, snow could be seen drifting in long thin lines from the jagged peaks.
Alexia peered out through the thin veil she wore between the brow of her hat and the thick woolen scarf wrapped round her face. The veil helped dull the harshness of the light reflecting from the snow, and did keep in a bit of heat. Swathed in thick hide clothing and hunched beneath even thicker robes, she looked more a beast than the horse upon which she rode.
She did feel the cold and knew Will had to be miserable. But the thief didn’t complain and that surprised her. The Will Norrington she’d first met in Yslin would have complained, and bitterly. Will had grown past that childishness now.
In camp the previous night, Will had joined some of the Murosans around a fire and sung with them various songs. He even offered new words for old melodies. One song, which he admitted was a poem he’d been thinking on for a while, involved the battle on the plains of Svoin, and featured her and Crow destroying the sullanciri, Malarkex.
His willingness to join in the singing impressed her, but less so than his acceptance of Kenleigh and Linchmere. Their presence among the Freeman Company had surprised her, and at first she thought they had been sent as Scrainwood’s agents. She’d mentioned that idea to Crow, but he’d suggested that Kenleigh hadn’t the temperament, and that Linchmere hadn’t the guile needed to be a spy.
Upon reflection, Alyx agreed with Crow’s assessment. She realized that Linchmere must have suffered a serious falling-out with his father to leave the comforts of the palace. Linchmere had been awkward in the camp, and mostly followed Kenleigh around, doing whatever the other man told him. Linchmere had begun to build a fire beneath a tree’s snow-laden branches. The rising heat would have caused the snow to fall and smother the fire, but Qwc flew about clumsily and cleared the tree of snow. Linchmere did get dumped on, but had a smile for the Spritha’s profuse apologies.
Alyx and Crow had retired together to a tent that had been set up a bit away from the others, though still within the camp. Whether people thought their marriage a sham or not, they respected their privacy. While the night was far too cold for removing all their clothing, they did huddle together beneath their blankets and share warmth.
There had been an urgency to their lovemaking in the inn—and an awkwardness. At first elbows hit where they shouldn’t have, teeth clicked, and fingers tangled, but any mishap was greeted with a smile, a laugh, or a whispered apology. Soon enough, though, the actual words were of little use. Far more meaningful and expressive moans and gasps communicated all.
After they lay together, touching and caressing. She relished the tenderness with which Crow slipped his arm around her to pull her back against him, kissing her neck. That was something so welcome she gladly would have retreated into that embrace and never emerged. It was not so much that she wanted to escape the world and seek him as a sanctuary, but that she wanted, very much, to be there with him, sharing the peace of their coupling.
On the road he rode beside her, save when he checked on Will or talked to Resolute, or when she went to check on Peri. Even now, as she glanced over at him, his shoulders hunched beneath a huge bearskin cloak, he gave her a nod, and through his veil she could almost see his eyes twinkle.
During the time they were not alone, Crow had been solicitous, but also respectful. He would offer help, not insist on usurping those things she could very well do herself. And if he needed help, he asked. He always had a smile for her and remained attentive, while not demanding her constant attention.
Part of that distance, she suspected, came from the gap in their ages. That first night he told her about Svarskya and having held her as an infant. A tremor in his voice betrayed his uneasiness at being so much older than she. As he made to apologize, she kissed him. “Our hearts don’t care how many times they’ve beaten, just that they beat together now.”
He had accepted that with a smile. “Wisdom as well as beauty.”
“Wise enough to know that when two souls are meant to be together, trifling details do not matter.”
Alexia smiled as their conversation echoed through her mind, but a keening hum filled the crisp air, demanding attention. Qwc flashed green against the white snow, circling Will, Sayce, Crow, and Alexia, then hovered in the air while pointing two arms off to the northeast. “Quick, quick, come quick. Important, very important.” He began to drift up, then buzzed away, making a beeline for the forested entrance into a little valley.
Crow’s head turned in her direction. “A Spritha knows where it’s supposed to be and when. We had best go.”
Already Resolute had reined his horse around and was galloping after the Spritha. Without a second thought, Alyx nudged her horse with her heels and set off beside Crow to avoid most of the snow his horse was kicking up. Off to the right, past Resolute, the Panqui sprinted through the snow, and behind her she caught the sound of Will and Sayce joining the chase.
Off across a virgin snowfield they raced, then into a thin stand of pines. Barely twenty yards farther, another field extended to a drop. To the north spread a forested valley with a meadow at its heart. A stream split it and wended its way south while, to the northwest, the grey granite walls of Bokagul Mountains formed a border.
Resolute plunged straight down over the edge and disappeared from sight. Lombo leaped into the air, his tail swinging to balance his flight. Alyx saw him sink into the tops of pines, causing one to sway violently enough that snow avalanched down from its branches. Crow’s horse followed Res-olute’s, and she drove her mount over the edge just to Crow’s left.
Snow flew, but the nearly treeless hillside gave her a good view of the valley floor. A small knot of people was beset by a horde of gibberers. A few frostclaws circled, letting loose with their warbled hoots, while others clawed bodies and tore at them with their terrible teeth. The people held the gibberers off as best they could and, from their awkward movements and coloration, she assumed they were urZrethi.
The steep hillside began to level out after ten yards. Crow reined back and brought his silverwood bow to hand. He nocked an arrow, drew, and let fly.
The shaft sped past Resolute and took a gibberer high in the chest. It spun and went down, and a number of the gibberers looked up the hillside.
Which was right when Lombo pounced. He landed in the midst of them, crushing at least one beneath his feet. His paws flicked out, right and left, crushing bones or rending flesh with his claws. As he spun to face one threat, his tail shattered the legs of a gibberer driving at his back.
Another arrow arced down, this one leaving a temeryx thrashing out its life in a reddening snowdrift. Then a thundercrack split the air, echoing off the mountains. A gibberer jolted, then sagged to the ground, a hunk of his skull sprayed back in a little wedge over the snow, courtesy of Dranae and his draconette.
Then Alyx was among them. Halfway down the hill she had thrown off her heavy cloak, then freed her right hand of its mitten. It dangled from a thong at her wrist as she drew her sword and slashed down to her right. Bright red splashed the snow and her horse’s flank. A gurgling gibberer crashed hard on the ground.
The snow made for difficult going, but horses proved far more agile than the gibberers. More arrows rained down and the draconette’s thunder echoed again. Not every shaft nor every shot proved to be a kill, but the screams of a wounded comrade were as unnerving for the gibberers as they would be for men.