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  Finally, the two climbers arrived at the top of the cliff. Theo disappeared over the ledge pulling some slack rope with him. He reappeared a few minutes later and helped Braga complete the climb. Then they both disappeared. When they returned, Theo could be seen cupping his hands to his lips and shouting down to the others. His effort was futile; no sound reached the other companions. Braga must have realized this because he began signaling instead with his arms.

  “They’re ready,” Bandor said. “Let’s go.”

  21

  JHABAN

  Jhaban stood at the prow of his father’s ship, the Blue Dellia, carving a path across long low swells in the offing south of Kreana. A heavy chop was at odds with the swell, and the vibrations of the deck carried into his legs and knees the slapping of that chop against the hull. A spray of salty ice water caught him in the cheek. He lurched to the side at the shock of cold, lost his balance, and started to fall. His father reached out and grabbed him by the shoulder, but too late. The grip was lost. Jhaban was falling toward the icy seas.

  As he woke with a start, Jhaban’s father’s hand turned into the hand of Kachtin shaking his shoulder. There was just enough light to see Kachtin’s face two feet away, leaning over and peering at him as he lay on the ground. “Wake up,” Kachtin said in a low voice. “Your shift.”

  Jhaban sat up and brushed snow from his collar and hat. The flakes on his cheeks had already melted. He rose, rolled his blanket and stuffed it into a pack, grabbed his sword where he had left it leaning against a stump, and strapped it on. He drew the sword once, just to feel its weight in his hand, then slid it silently back into his sheath. Jhaban was the best swordsman in Citadel. He was proud of that fact. He only wished the sword at his side was his own—the gift his father had given him two years earlier, made for his hand by the finest Anghare swordsmith. The same swordsmith had crafted a sword for his prince. But thanks to their imprisonment, neither he nor Dhan still possessed them. The sword at his side would have to do until his own was restored.

  He walked a short distance through the woods up the hill that sheltered their camp, and came to the log where Rhaan had determined to set the watch. It was still dark, but not quite black. A faint glow in the sky far to the west gave hint of a moon most of the way toward the horizon. An enemy might have snuck through the woods and come upon his company unseen. From this vantage point, however, he would have seen torches, and likely spotted shadows in the woods if a large company approached with anything less than expert care.

  And there he sat, huddled beneath his heavy cloak, until a large shadow approached through the woods from their encampment an hour later. The shadow separated into two, a man leading a horse. Not until the front shadow was a step away did he recognize the features of Rhaan.

  “It’s time to go,” Rhaan said. “I make two hours until sunrise. Kachtin is rousing the others. I am going to scout the road one more time. If there is danger, I’ll come back and warn you. Otherwise I’ll wait at the end of the woods. Dhan knows this already. I don’t need much time. Have them leave as soon as all are ready.”

  “Understood,” Jhaban replied.

  At the bottom of the hill, people and horses moved around the hollow as dim shadows. The only sounds were squeaks of saddles, and the occasional sighs of humans or the snorts of horses clearing their nostrils in the cold air. An owl, flying overhead in search of an unwary mouse or rabbit, might have been aware of their camp. Or a weasel passing downwind would have stopped to sniff the strange scent in the air. However there was little to give away their presence to humans who might have been passing by.

  Jhaban crossed toward where his own horse was tethered to a tree. He almost tripped over a body. Looking down he was surprised to see Thimeon. Their Andani guide was usually the first one up and moving, rousing the others and eagerly urging them to the day’s work. He must have really needed the sleep, Jhaban thought. He was hesitant to wake him. But he reached down and gave him a shake. “Two hours until the sun rises.”

  Thimeon almost jumped to his feet, as though shocked or startled or just embarrassed to have been caught still sleeping. Jhaban owed his freedom to his Andani leader, he knew. Without Thimeon, he would still be in the dungeons of Citadel. Or he would have been executed already. He saw also that Thimeon carried a great burden. But beyond that, Jhaban knew little about him.

  “Rhaan is scouting the road,” he told Thimeon in a barely audible voice. “We’re to follow as soon as we can, staying in the woods on this side of wagon road. Saddle the horses but lead them on foot. When we get to the trade road, we’ll stop and wait for Rhaan.”

  By the time he and Thimeon had saddled their horses, the others were all ready to go, waiting in a long line of shadows on the east side of the hollow. Thimeon and Jhaban made their way to the front of the line, just behind the prince, and then the procession began. Walking beside their horses, it took them only fifteen minutes to reach the edge of the clearing. Jhaban looked out from beneath the heavy canopy of forest across the snow covered field. Though the sun was still nearly two hours from rising, the way ahead was light enough that he could just make out the line of the trade road three or four hundred feet ahead, cutting across their path from the southwest to the northeast. The trees on the far side of the road appeared as faint smudges. He would not have seen anybody along the distant tree line, but something moving on the road or across the near side of the field would have been visible at least from a short distance.

  Jhaban knew that this area was well inhabited. He had been there once on duty, but had also heard about it from Thimeon over the past two days. Farms were visible in both directions along the north side of the road. The company would have to cover a half a mile of open ground, most of which was on the other side of the road, before they reached the safety of the distant woods. Though the sun had still not risen, the sky would soon be light enough that somebody looking closely in their direction might see them even from a distance.

  As he stood looking at the scene, Rhaan came out of the shadows to meet them. “No sign of soldiers,” he announced. “I’ve been as far as the road and back.”

  “The sooner we cross, the better,” Jhaban said.

  Thimeon turned to the prince. “We are taking a chance in crossing, but waiting gains us nothing. Let’s proceed.”

  “Stay on foot until we reach the far woods,” Rhaan said. “It will be quieter and we’ll keep our profile down. Keep in line.”

  Dhan turned and passed the word on to the others, then turned back to Rhaan. “Lead the way,” he said.

  Rhaan nodded. He took one last look in both directions, and then started forward. Thimeon followed behind him, then the prince, then Jhaban, with the others coming behind in single file. Plowing through a few deep snowdrifts, they crossed the first hundred yards of open field and made it to the road with no sign of trouble. There, the frequent passages of wagons and horses had trampled down the snow. Rhaan paused again, and scanned the fields and road in both directions. A bell rang somewhere in the distance. Jhaban looked nervously in the direction of the noise until Thimeon turned and spoke in a soft voice. “Don’t panic. Farmhands are already up and moving, taking care of animals before first light and stoking up fires. I’ll wager that was a farm wife signaling to her husband that breakfast is ready.”

  Jhaban let his relief out in a sigh. “Nonetheless, let us make haste,” he said. Then he turned and passed Thimeon’s message back down the line.

  Rhaan led the way across the road and out into the meadow on the far side. The line followed behind. Jhaban looked back once, but he could see no further back than the third rider behind him. Fifteen or twenty tense minutes passed as they trudged through more snowdrifts on a gentle ascent away from the road. All the while, the sky grew lighter overhead. Nonetheless they reached the line of trees at the top of the hill with no sound of warning and no sign of soldiers or scouts.

  Jhaban fe
lt little sense of relief, however. They had left a trail across the meadow as clear as day. Anybody traveling down the road would know a large company had crossed. And El-Phern had likely been on their trail for a couple days now. There was no way to lose him. Once again Jhaban wondered where Terrid was, and if he had succeeding in delaying their pursuers or leading them astray.

  Rhaan walked over with his horse. He must have guessed what Jhaban was thinking from the way he was looking back across the meadow. “Nothing we can do,” Rhaan said quietly. “If they’re looking for us and they have any guess we might have come this way, they’ll find us. At least we’ve avoided an encounter with any soldiers here in Aeti. Now our best hope is to make haste. We ride now.”

  Jhaban nodded. Rhaan swung astride his horse. Jhaban followed his example. All around, their companions mounted. Saddles creaked. A few horses snorted quietly. The sounds seemed magnified in the still mountain air. Again Jhaban looked nervously back across the meadow. He could now see his frosty breath in the growing light, but no sign of any activity on the road.

  “You know these woods far better than I,” Rhaan said to Thimeon, who sat astride his horse just a few feet away. “It might be best if you lead us for a time.” Thimeon agreed. He looked in the direction of Jhonna and Cathwain, the two youngest members of the company. They were astride their horses. Thimeon looked like he wanted to say something, but then he turned and sent his mount into the woods.

  The sun rose into a clear sky. They passed food amongst them as they road, but they did not halt. For the rest of that morning Jhaban took turns with Thimeon, Rhaan, and Dhan breaking the trail and leading their company northward. Thimeon knew this territory well. He’d claimed to have hunted here often. It was a land of rolling hills and sparse woods that for years had been lumbered for the timber trade with Citadel. Old logging roads wound all around them. From time to time a road headed in more or less the right direction and they’d follow it for a few hundred yards until it wandered off to the side, and then Thimeon would abandon the track and cut back into the woods.

  A little before midday they left the logging trails behind. The woods grew thicker, and finding a way became more of a challenge. They held a path almost due north, aiming just to the right of Illengond’s peak. Shortly after midday they came upon a stream tumbling across their path. Upstream and down, the stream spilled over icy rocks or disappeared beneath a blanket of snow, but they had come to the stream at a nice fording place just below a plunge pool from a small falls. Rhaan ordered a halt to rest their horses and let them drink.

  Jhaban filled his skin with the clear icy water, and then walked a dozen yards off to the side to leave room for the other horses to drink. He stood atop a small ledge looking back over a valley they had just crossed. He had been on his horse for too long, and his knees were starting to ache. He was glad they hadn’t been forced to walk all the way from Citadel, but he’d take one of his father’s ships over a horse any day. It felt good to be on his feet again. He was considering walking for some time both to give his horse a rest and also to stretch his legs more. He was about to turn and lead his horse across the stream when two dark shapes appeared briefly atop the distant hillside. They stood silhouetted on the slope for no more than five seconds, before they disappeared.

  Jhaban’s heart began to pound. He ran back to the others. “Prince Dhan!” he called. “Thimeon!”

  Rhaan, who was already astride his horse, wheeled it around and came back at once. Dhan, still on foot, was only a step behind him. Thimeon, who had been talking with Cathwain, came over also. “What is it?” the prince asked.

  “I saw something,” Jhaban replied. “Or someone. Back along our trail.”

  “A war band?” the prince asked.

  “Two men on horses. I got a brief glimpse and then they were gone.”

  “We’d better check it out,” Rhaan said.

  “I’ll grab my horse,” Thimeon said.

  “No,” the Prince said, before Thimeon had taken even a step. “We cannot risk losing you and your knowledge.” He turned toward Jhaban. “Go with Rhaan. See what it is.”

  Jhaban nodded. He understood. He was more expendable than Thimeon. He did not disagree. He turned and headed toward his horse.

  “I can go faster alone,” he heard Rhaan arguing behind him. “And more quietly.”

  “Yes,” Dhan said. “But if they are scouts from Citadel we cannot afford to let them return with news of us.”

  Jhaban was astride his horse before Dhan had even finished speaking, riding back toward Rhaan who looked eager to be on his way. Thimeon put his hand on Jhaban’s knee. “Don’t take any chances. It would be better for them to escape than for the two of you to be killed.”

  Jhaban nodded, then put his heels into his horse’s flanks and started hard down the trail after Rhaan who had a thirty-yard head start. They retraced their path back, and ten minutes later reached the crest of the previous hill where Jhaban had seen something. Rhaan left the trail and veered off into the fresh snow just to the side. Jhaban veered off to the other side, and the two of them rode in parallel on opposite sides of their trail for thirty or forty yards peering down at the tracks. He saw what he had feared. The topmost set of tracks were headed back southward at a gallop.

  “I’d wager we’ve been spotted,” Rhaan announced.

  “Yes,” Jhaban replied. “A pair of advance scouts, maybe? They must have seen our tracks crossing the road and come to investigate.”

  “Well whoever it was, they saw us,” Rhaan replied. “And if they make it back to the road, then our enemies will know we’re here. Let’s overtake them and make sure they don’t return with any messages.”

  Jhaban nodded. Rhaan slapped his horse on the rump and reined it back into the trail. Jhaban came just a horse’s length behind him, and together they charged down the hill. Snow flew from hooves and cold air whistled past his ears. Trees and stones they had passed an hour ago went by in a blur. Yet their horses were tired from many days of hard travel. Soon they had to slow. They had ridden at most twenty minutes before Rhaan reined to a halt. “We can’t catch them,” he said in a somber but steady tone.

  “Why not?” Jhaban asked, agitated by the delay.

  “Look at their tracks. They had a head start and they’ve been riding at a gallop the whole time. We won’t catch them until they slow or stop. And they probably have fresh horses waiting back on the road. If we keep chasing after them like this, we’re going to find ourselves riding right into the middle of their company.”

  Jhaban didn’t like the implications of Rhaan’s words, but he feared he was right. “We’d better get back and warn the others. If we’re lucky, the scouts will have to go all the way back to the road. That was a half day of riding for us. They can’t maintain a gallop the entire time. It will take them a couple hours. And then they’ll have to gather the troops. By the time they cover the same distance, we should have close to a day’s lead.”

  “Maybe,” Rhaan said. “But knowing who we’re dealing with, I doubt we’ll have any more.”

  They had ridden so far, and their horses were now so tired, that it took the rest of the afternoon for Jhaban and Rhaan to catch up with the others. The rolling hills were giving way to a steady climb. Each downhill was shorter, and each uphill was steeper. The forests grew thinner also, with more stretches of open rocky ground. But the track was easy to follow. As it would be for those who pursued them. Their pursuers wouldn’t even have to break the trail, Jhaban thought. Ground his company spent a day covering might be traversed by soldiers from Citadel in a long afternoon.

  The sun was setting when Jhaban heard a voice calling down to them from a pile of boulders on the slope to their right. The prince himself was on guard. He told them at that the camp was just a short distance ahead. A few hundred yards farther, they rounded a sharp jut in the hillside and found the company bivouacked on the north side
of a rocky knoll. A fired burned, and Jhaban saw a small deer roasting on a spit. His mouth began to water.

  He and Rhaan unsaddled their horses and hobbled them to a fallen tree along with four other horses. The rest of the horses were spread about. Jhaban turned and walked back to the fire, looking around him as he went. Lyn, the coward and traitor, had crawled under a low overhanging branch of spruce a short distance away and lay glaring at the fire. Kachtin, along with the duke, sat near the fire tending to the meal. The other officers sat with them, but their attention was on something across the fire, and not on the deer. Gaelim, the newcomer to the company from Gale Enebe, sat across the fire from the officers looking intently at something in his hand. Thimeon, Jhonna, Corandra, and Cathwain were all gathered around him watching with fascination whatever he was doing. Siyen and Kayam sat on a log on a third side, also watching him.

  Jhaban stepped up to the fire and turned to see what Gaelim was doing. The Ceadani held in his left hand a rock that filled his palm, and he was caressing it with his right hand. As he did, the rock changed shape beneath his fingers. To Jhaban’s amazement, it took the shape of a deer. Even as he looked on antlers sprung up out of the head and shaped themselves into a minute but magnificent rack. Yet below the animal neck was still just a rough round rock like anybody might pick up off a hillside.

  At the appearance of Jhaban and Rhaan, however, several faces turned away from the stone deer and looked up expectantly. Thimeon’s expression was the most intent. “What is the news?” he asked.

  “It isn’t good,” Rhaan answered.

  Jhaban was relieved to hear Rhaan speak, so that he didn’t have to be the bearer of bad news. He looked around for the prince, thinking he should hear the report also. And then remembered that the prince was on watch.

  “Almost certainly we were spotted by scouts. Whoever it was, rode back toward the road at a gallop. You can bet they are bringing an urgent message to somebody.”