Winterbirth (52 page)

Once Yvane had calmed a little she acknowledged, with all the grace and good humour of a bee-stung mule, that the furs were for her visitors. Orisian and the others pulled them on. For the first time in days Orisian began to feel some real warmth coming into his skin as he sat watching the hare char over the flames. Yvane had reluctantly allowed the fire to remain alight, since the animal was already cooking when she returned. They devoured it enthusiastically, heedless of the grease that ran down their chins and the smoke that stung their eyes. Ess'yr cracked a leg bone in two and sucked at the marrow. They melted snow in one of Yvane's clay pots to quench their thirst.

Afterwards, Ess'yr went to look for her brother. Orisian could not imagine she was worried about him; he suspected it had more to do with a desire to be under open skies once more. Rothe insisted on keeping watch outside, and left Orisian and Anyara alone with the
na'kyrim.
The shieldman had evidently concluded that however abrasive Yvane might be, she was no grave threat to his charge's safety.

Orisian hesitated at first, fearing the sharp edge of Yvane's tongue if she was still in a foul mood, but he doubted there was time to be too careful of her temper.

'Inurian told us that you would help us. He wanted us to go to Koldihrve, said you could get us there,' he said quietly.

Yvane, wiping her lips with the sleeve of her jacket, seemed at first not to have heard. Then as she settled herself back against the wall of the chamber and stretched out her legs she fixed him with an attentive gaze.

'And why is it you want to go to Koldihrve?' she asked. 'Not too many friends of your Blood there, you know.'

'To find a boat. That was Inurian's idea, anyway...' He paused.

'But not yours, apparently,' Yvane murmured.

Orisian gave a small, uncertain shrug. He felt he was being almost disloyal to Inurian by even doubting his instructions.

'I am . . . unsure,' he said. 'At first I thought we could head straight for Glasbridge, or Sirian's Dyke, in the valley. But Inurian and Ess'yr and Varryn seemed certain we would not have reached them.'

Yvane prodded the faltering fire with a stick, stirring its embers back into bright life.

'I don't suppose you would, then. If even a Fox with the three-fold
kin'thyn
feels it wiser to fly up here, chances are pretty good you'd be dead if you'd not followed. There's not many of them amongst the Fox, you know; bearers of the threefold patterns, I mean. The Fox has never been a big clan anyway, of course...'

'Well, we can't stay here,' Anyara interrupted.

The
na'kyrim
fixed her with a sharp gaze, arching one of her eye-brows in a pointed gesture of displeasure.

'I mean,' Anyara persisted, 'that if we cannot get back to Glasbridge overland, it sounds to me as though we have no choice but to press on to Koldihrve and try to find a boat.'

'Mind sharp as a needle, that one,' Yvane muttered to herself, and returned her attention to the fire.

Anyara glared at their host. Orisian willed her to hold her tongue.

'Inurian tried to get me involved once already,' Yvane said unexpectedly. She might have still been talking to herself. 'He wanted me to ... do something about this Aeglyss. Perhaps that's why he sent you up here. It's not as if you really need my help to get to Koldihrve, after all, when you've got those two Fox nursemaiding you.'

'Aeglyss?' exclaimed Anyara in surprise. 'You've spoken to Inurian about him?'

Yvane nodded. 'While he was in Anduran. I took a look at Aeglyss myself. It wasn't the best of ideas; if he had the skill to match his raw strength . . . anyway, I've still got an ache in my head I can't shake off.'

'Well, Aeglyss is the one pursuing us. Or one of them, at least,' Orisian said. 'Even if he didn't kill Inurian with his own hands, it was partly his doing.'

Yvane gave a non-committal grunt. 'Inurian didn't say anything about taking care of his waifs and strays.

He wanted me to give Highfast a prod, that's all. Get them to take care of Aeglyss.'

'I thought Highfast was a fortress,' said Anyara.

'It is,' Yvane replied. 'Never been taken in battle they always say, and I imagine it's true enough. Kyrinin besieged it during the War of the Tainted, and your own kind in the Storm Years, and again in the Black Road wars. Came through it all well enough. There's more to it than that, though; what warriors are left there are more for show than anything. The very first Kilkry Thane gave it to some
na'kyrim
who were looking for a place to hide away and they're hiding there still, or their successors are, at least. It's not much of a secret, but there's probably more don't know it than do.'

She sighed heavily. 'Some good people there, but not as many answers as they like to think. They've grown as musty as the books they guard, and half of what they chatter about makes no more sense than the croaking of their crows. It takes a certain temperament to shut yourself up with so many words and so much learning. Neither Inurian nor I ever quite had the mettle for it. A shame, in a way. For those who can settle there it is very . . . soothing.'

'And Inurian thought they're the ones to deal with Aeglyss?' asked Orisian.

'Inurian always had a tendency to assume the best about people: I suspect he thought the Highfast folk would help sort out what-ever mess Aeglyss is creating just because he's a
na'kyrim
like them. He evidently believed this Aeglyss is - or could be - a remarkable young man, gifted with exceptional talents.'

Anyara growled some comment on that, but kept it low enough to avoid Yvane's attention.

'If Inurian was right,' Yvane continued, 'then it may be that only the kind of
na'kyrim
who dwell in Highfast are capable of standing against him.' Her eyes glazed over, her voice drifted, following her thoughts down some distracting track. 'Or Dyrkyrnon ... he did say he might have lived there, didn't he?'

She hung her head.

'Dyrkynon?' Orisian asked.

Yvane looked up, seeming surprised that she was not alone.

'Dyrkyrnon,' she corrected him. 'Yes. Another hideaway for my kind. It's not the same kind of place as Highfast, though. There's
na'kyrim
and there's
na'kyrim.
The ones at Dyrkyrnon can be less friendly than a bear with a thorn in its foot when the mood takes them.'

There was a moment's quiet. Anyara's face betrayed her impatience.

'Even if you just point us in the right direction . . .' she began, only to be cut off by Yvane's raucous clearing of her throat.

'Excuse me,' the
na'kyrim
said. 'The wet and cold up here lie heavy upon my chest sometimes.

Especially when I'm thinking.'

They lapsed into a tense silence. Orisian and Anyara glanced uneasily at one another.

'Did he still have that crow? What happened to it?' asked Yvane. Idrin,' said Orisian. 'He sent him away.

Told him to go home, I think.'

Yvane nodded as if Orisian had confirmed something she already knew. 'Then they will know by now, at Highfast, that he is dead.'

She was deep in thought for long moments, and neither Orisian nor Anyara dared to disturb her.

Orisian's eyes wandered, drifting over the uneven surface of the walls. He gazed at the figures painted there: animals and people delineated with simple, broad strokes. It was crude work, but suited to this flrelit setting. It might have come from an ancient, unformed world.

'Do you know about the Sky Pilgrims?' Yvane asked him.

'I've never heard of them,' Orisian said.

'Ah, there's no finer example of the rock-headed foolishness of your race. You know, at least, the story that one of the First Race's crimes against the Gods was supposed to be stealing fire from the roof of the world? Well, in the very early years of the Kingships there were those who thought they could persuade the Gods to return by repeating that journey in penance. They were the Sky Pilgrims. Dozens of them marched through here on their way to the Tan Dihrin. It was not a belief that prospered; hardly a surprise given that most of its followers must have met rather miserable deaths.'

'And they made these drawings on their way there,' Orisian said.

'I think so. I can't make much sense of them, but then sense was not the most prominent of the Sky Pilgrims' qualities.'

'You should not speak so harshly of the dead,' muttered Anyara. 'I'm sure they were only doing what they thought was right.'

To Orisian's surprise, that made Yvane hesitate.

'Perhaps they were,' she said. 'Inurian's rubbed off on you, I see. He often scolded me for being too impatient of Huanin - and Kyrinin — failings. Told me I should wait until I had rid myself of every flaw before going around picking at everyone else's.' She smiled distantly, as if pleased by the memory.

Rothe came bursting into the chamber then. He brought snowflakes with him, and the cold of the outside world that Orisian had almost forgotten existed. The shieldman had a grave expression.

'Come,' he said. 'I think I saw someone. Younger eyes might be better than mine.'

Orisian and Anyara followed him. Yvane did not move from her fireside place, silently stirring the ashes as the fire began to falter. Every step down the short passageway brought the sound of the wind closer.

When they emerged on to the dais of rock outside it was to find the sky obscured by flat and featureless grey clouds, the air filled with wind-blown snow. Mists and fogs were seething around the ridges to the south and west. Orisian raised a hand to shield his face.

'Where did you see them?' he said to Rothe.

The shieldman gestured back the way they had come on their flight from Sam's Leap.

'On the horizon there,' he shouted. 'I thought I saw someone cresting the ridge, coming just the way we did.'

Orisian and Anyara peered that way, into the teeth of the Car Criagar's stinging breath. It was a vain effort: clouds had engulfed the landscape.

'It's no use,' Rothe said.

Orisian shook his head in agreement.

As they retreated back into the cliff face, he glanced at Rothe.

'Did you see any sign of Ess'yr and Varryn?' he asked.

Rothe only shook his head.

Waiting was a hardship for Orisian. One way or the other, he probably owed his life to Ess'yr and her brother. But it was not only out of gratitude that he longed for Ess'yr's safe return in particular: he knew, with the acuity of one experienced in the matter of loss, that losing her now would cost him a precious part of what strength he had left. Anyara and Rothe were wrapped in their own silences, each staring deep into the fading embers of the fire. Yvane appeared to have drifted into sleep where she sat.

Ess'yr and Varryn came in almost casually, brushing flecks of snow from their shoulders and hair. A surge of relief carried Orisian to his feet.

'We thought you might be in trouble,' he said. 'Rothe saw someone on the ridge beyond the ruins.'

Varryn glanced at the shieldman as he set down his spear and bow. He squatted in silence and began to work his way through the arrows in his quiver, smoothing their flights and testing the heads.

'Huanin,' Ess'yr said as she flicked snowmelt from her forehead.

'You saw them?' demanded Rothe.

Ess'yr gave the slightest of nods. 'Saw, at a distance. Perhaps only two. They have dogs.'

'Dogs,' Orisian echoed. 'Hunters, then?'

Anyara shifted uneasily by the hearth. 'Perhaps,' she murmured, 'but perhaps not just hunters but the

Hunt. Inurian was worried about it, when we were escaping from Anduran. Perhaps it wasn't just Battle Inkallim that came south with Horin-Gyre.'

Rothe groaned. Orisian knew his own face must be revealing the alarm Anyara's words triggered.

'Would the Hunt really come after us? I mean, to pursue us all this way…'

'You forget,' Rothe interrupted him. 'You may be the Thane of our Blood. That alone is reason enough for the Hunt Inkall to pursue us to the end of the world, if they take it into their heads to do so. Even if they do not know it is you they are pursuing, they know Anyara is here. Perhaps they think she is the last of your uncle's family alive. Remember, Orisian, our people might have softened over the years: the Gyre Bloods have not. They'll see this through to the end, whatever that end might be.'

'Well, whoever they are, they're going to have an uncomfortable time out there, from the sound of the wind,' Yvane said.

Orisian glanced at the
na'kyrim.
She looked perfectly alert and relaxed.

'Whoever they are, we can't stay,' Orisian said quietly. 'As soon as the weather eases, we will have to move on. Whether you come with us or not.'

Yvane returned his gaze for a few moments, then gave a shrug.

'We found a little food,' Ess'yr said. She unfolded a pouch of leather to reveal a handful of wizened berries and a clump of unappetising greenery. She laid them on a stone and the three humans regarded them glumly. Anyara's stomach gave a complaining rumble. Yvane produced some hazelnuts and dry mushrooms from her pocket and added them to the meagre array. It was not much; just enough to blunt their hunger. All the while they ate, the sound of the winter storm outside mounted.

Afterwards, Varryn rose and gathered his weapons once more.

'Someone must watch,' he said flatly as he disappeared out of the circle of firelight.

GRYVAN OC HAIG was in a rage such as none in the Moon Palace had witnessed for many months.

As he stormed down the stone corridors, he spat invective at every servant unfortunate enough to cross his path. Kale strode after his High Thane, and behind him came the Chancellor Mordyn Jerain and Gryvan's son Aewult. Mordyn noticed, as the Bloodheir marched along beside him, that there was a kind of satisfaction on Aewult's face. The young man enjoyed such moments, when passions flared and Gryvan showed that he could still make people fear him. If the day comes when Aewult rules in his father's stead, Mordyn reflected, few people will love him as at least some do Gryvan. But many will have cause to fear him.