“I do not know them well, I can not say—”
“But you can venture a guess, and what is that?”
“Very few.” Perhaps I was misspeaking the maids of Hallack, but remembering their murmuring on the ride to the Throat, and the stark fear which some showed then, I did not think I was so far in error.
“So. Thus are we now crippled. And those who might attack us have the courage of men who have been stripped of all—who have nothing left to lose. So would they come into battle with the advantage.”
“What will you do?”
He shrugged. Just such a gesture as I would have expected from Lord Imgry in such a strait. “What do we do? We send out scouts to spy us a trail, we Strive to find a swift passage, we hope that we do not have to fight for it.”
But his hopes were in vain. We struck a fast pace leaving that halting place. Within the hour we split into two parties. Those who were unpaired, save for three of their number, took a branching way yet farther east and rode from us at a gallop. While for the remainder we had a trail straight ahead. One of our three guards, who ranged up and down the line, as I had seen men of the Dales ride herd while moving cattle, was Halse. Each time he swung past it seemed to me that he turned his head, so that the baleful gems in that bear topped helm flickered, the ornament almost appearing a small living creature fully aware of all it saw.
In winter, twilight comes early. Shadows crept across our way which was now clear of forest or many trees, but which wound about to avoid outcrops of snow-crowned rock. Herrel’s mount was dropping behind and I reined back. The last of the party were now out of sight and we were alone.
“What is the matter?”
He shook his head. “I do not know. There is no reason—” He had stopped, now his head went up, his nostrils expanded, as he half turned in the saddle to look back along our trail. His hand moved in an imperative gesture for quiet.
I could hear the clop-clop of hooves ahead, the creak of saddles, growing fainter by the moment. Surely Halse or one of the others would come pounding back to see what delayed us.
Herrel dismounted. He looked up at me, his face a blur not easily read beneath the shadow of his helm.
“Ride!”
He went down on one knee to examine the forefeet of his mount, not looking at the hooves but rather in the longish hair above them. His fingers stilled and his whole body tensed.
“What is it?” I asked for the second time.
But there was no answer—only singing in the air, shrill, ear-piercing in high notes. Herrel’s mount reared, screamed, striking out, and sending the man at its feet rolling.
There was no controlling my mare either. She dashed ahead so wildly that she might have been blind. I fought against her terror with hands on reins and my will—that same will which leapt ever to my defence when there was need. Then, when it seemed she was truly mad, I leaned forward in the saddle, grasping her mane. Against my breast I felt a burning coal, eating into my flesh. The amulet—but why? I dared loose hold with one hand, clutched for that packet. Why I did then what I did I had no knowing, any more than why I had performed many actions these past days.
Jerking the cord until it broke, I pressed the amulet between my palm and the mare’s foam spattered neck. She ceased the terrible neighing which had been bursting from her as a woman might scream; her wild run slackened. My will caught her—we turned back. I was sure that what had moved her and Herrel’s horse had been no freak of nature but a deliberately planned blow.
Almost I feared I could not find my way back. The rocky outcrops all looked the same. But I urged the mare on, my amulet still pressed to her sweating hide. And I could feel the shivering which racked her. Fear was a stench in the air, and mine a part of it.
Behind me the pounding of hooves. Halse drew even, his cloak swept back on his shoulders. I could see sparks of fire...man’s eyes...bear’s eyes. He leaned forward as if to grasp at my rein, bring me to a halt. And I flung out my hand to ward off his. The amulet swung forward on its broken cord, struck across his bare wrist.
“Ahhh—” A cry of pain, as if I had laid a whip there in earnest. He jerked back and his horse reared with a startled neigh. Then I was out of his reach, riding on to where I had seen Herrel roll away from his mount’s striking feet.
His horse stood there, spraddled of leg, muzzle close to the ground. It shivered, plunged once as I moved up, yet did not run. Whilst on a rock ledge of the outcrop crouched that which I had last seen by moonlight on a bed.
“Man—man!” My mind fought fear. But this time my will did not dislodge a phantom. The great cat was silent, it did not even look at me. Those green, glowing eyes were turned elsewhere, down slope, and above its head was a flicker of slender green flame.
“Herrel?” So intent was I on winning man back from cat that I forgot all caution. I slid from the saddle, ran to the rock. As I called the cat’s stare broke, it arose in a great bound to clear the fear stricken horse and reach the ground beyond.
The hair along its spine arose, its ears flattened against the skull, and the long tail quivered at tip. Still it looked back down our trail. Then for the first time it yowled.
Herrel’s horse plunged and screamed. My mare bolted. Now the cat growled, slinking into a crevice between two rocks, belly to the ground. Seeing that hunter’s creep I shrank back against the outcrop, losing touch with the reality of the world I had always known.
I still held the amulet, though I did not remember that until once more in my hand it was burning hot. When I snatched away my fingers I saw, standing out from a crack in the stone, a strange thing. It was perhaps as long as my fore-arm, and it glowed when the amulet approached it. There was such an effluvium of evil exuding from it that before I thought clearly I pulled it free and flung it to the ground, setting my boot heel upon it as I might upon some noxious insect, grinding against the stone until it splintered.
“Harroooo!” Echoed, changed by the rock walls and the wind, but still that was no animal cry. It had come from a human throat, and with it other shouts and a beast’s growling.
By me, with more speed than I could have thought possible for such a clumsy seeming body, raced a bear, on its way down trail. A whistle of wings in the sky and a bird, beyond my reckoning large, followed after. A great grey wolf, another cat—this one with fur spotted black on tawny-red, a second wolf, black—the company of the Riders on their way to battle. But that struggle I did not see. Perhaps that was well, for there came a cry so horrible that my hands went to my ears and I crouched against the outcrop with no courage left, only filled with a desire not to see, hear, or think, of what passed where men met beasts in the twilight.
I found myself then, me, who had never believed in the service of the Abbey, muttering prayers I had heard there years on end, as if those words could build a wall between me and terror unleashed to walk the earth. And I strove to concentrate upon the words and their meanings, using them as a shield.
Hands upon my shoulders—I tried to free myself as if they had been claw-set paws. Still I would not open my eyes. For how could I bear now to look upon a man who was also a beast?
“Gillan!” The grasp which held me tightened. I was shaken to and fro, not in punishing anger as my Lord Imgry had used me, but as one would awaken another caught in a nightmare.
I looked-into green eyes, but they were not set in a beast head. Only, still could I see them so. And above them was that helm on which crouched a cat—a stark reminder. I was too weak to pull away from Herrel’s hold yet my flesh shrank from it.