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“Are you sure this will hold us?”
Nomar’s head snapped toward Ailish. “Perhaps you have a magic spell to carry us across with but a snap of your fingers? Or can you move people and kraals as you did the stones at your special mountain?”
She smiled at his sarcasm. “Stones yes, people no ... Jalil?” she questioned, turning to the renegade Dark Master.
“I can,” he admitted, “but move only myself.”
“Sorcerers,” Nomar mumbled. “Then, My Lady, I believe you have no choice but to trust this Free Blade.”
Ailish stopped her smile before it began. “As I believe I had said before, Free Blade you are no longer, and trust you I do, with my life and with the future as I have been doing, Nomar of Morvene.”
While this was going on, Jalil stared at the bridge, inspecting it from one end to the other. When he was done, he closed his eyes and whispered a formula. The two were so locked in their conversation that neither heard him, nor saw a strange fusing of the wood wherever a piece of rope held it together.
“Are the two of you quite finished? Can we cross now and be on our way?”
It took an hour to cross the bridge with the litter, the three kraals, and setting up Jalil and the litter on the kraal. It was another two and a half hours to reach the pathway north. Slower going down than up, as the conveyance Nomar had built needed slow movement around the bends of the path’s somewhat steep descent.
When they reached it, and stepped back into the freezing winds, Nomar and Ailish wrapped themselves in their fur cloaks. Somehow, the air was colder on this side than the other, although the ledge, which was the pathway, appeared wider.
Before moving on, Nomar cut three strips from a sleeping silk for them to use as face coverings against the biting wind. When they were finally ready to move on, it was past midday and the gray skies were already darkening.
<><><>
Ailish shivered and pulled the fur cloak tighter. It had been two and a half days since they’d crossed over the gorge. With each mile they travelled, the colder the air became. Why, she had no idea, but the cold whipped over them without mercy.
They slept on their kraals, she and Nomar taking turns so that one would always be awake and on watch. The kraal pulling Jalil’s litter was attached to Ailish’s saddle to make sure there wouldn’t be a problem.
They stopped only to give the kraals a short rest, water and feed them, and then feed themselves and Yar. There was no wood anywhere and no long-dead trees. There was nothing but whiteness up and down, ahead, and behind. There was no game for Yar to hunt, and he settled for the smoked rabt, usually with an unhappy growl.
How fare you, Master Jalil, she asked an hour after they had eaten.
There is no change for me.
There was a change, and Ailish’s gift of truth told her he was not being honest. She could sense that the pain had returned with more fierceness, but her intuition also told her there was more to his denial. She wanted to stop and use her healing ability to reduce it, but knew he would refuse for whatever his reason might be.
She looked ahead, to where Nomar rode. He and his kraal, Tarz, led the way. He sat straight; his cloak wrapped tightly about him, and his face silk-wrapped against the cold. She was tired, and growing hungry although they’d eaten only a few hours ago.
“Talk to me, Nomar,” she called.
He slowed his kraal until he was at her side. He turned to her, his eyes settling on hers. “Of what would you hear?”
“Anything to take my thoughts from this ...” She waved her hand at the expanses of whiteness surrounding them. “Anything.”
“I can speak of the warm summers of Morvene, or the magnificence of the Blue Desert and the picturesque forest you must pass through to reach it. I can tell you about the rushing waters of the Great Curved Falls of upper Northcrom. Which would you hear of?”
Ailish laughed at his words, smiling and picturing each of the places he mentioned. Memories rose, and somehow, she felt warmer. “All of them!”
He obliged her, telling her of the time he’d hunted in the forest bordering the Blue Desert, describing everything in such precise detail she not only heard, but pictured and felt his every word as if she were there in the warmth and the beauty of the Nevaen forest.
He spoke for an hour and just as he was describing the final day of the hunt, he stopped speaking. His eyes were set ahead, not on her, as his words trailed off.
“What?” she asked.
He turned to her and even though she could not see his mouth through the silk covering them, she could tell he was smiling by the way the corners of his eyes crinkled. “I think we are getting closer to our destination.” He pointed ahead. “The path and the mountains are turning in the distance.”
“Yet far away are we still,” came the barely audible words from Jalil. “We have more to do.”
Both of them drew their reins back, stopping the kraals. The one pulling Jalil came to a halt next to them. Nomar dismounted, and Ailish followed seconds later.
Standing on each side, they stared down at the Master. Nomar unwrapped the silk from his face, bent close over Jalil, and said, “What are you talking about, old man?”
“I was waiting to tell you,” he began, while at the same time sending a thought to Ailish. This is very important to our survival.
“Tell us,” Ailish said without responding silently.
“I cannot. For I know not the details, only that The Eight of the Island told me there would be a place we must go to before the end of the journey. They would say nothing more.”
Ailish glanced from Jalil to Nomar. “He speaks the truth,” she said, doing her best to assuage the anger reflected on his face, caused by the old Master holding this back from them. Nomar said nothing. He wrapped his face and returned to his kraal.
Mounting Tarz, he turned to Ailish, who was doing the same. “Nothing it seems is straightforward when Jalil is involved.”
She had no idea of what to say, so she remained silent, but when he started forward, she did the same, riding next to him, not between he and Jalil. “We will watch, and we will be cautious, Nomar.”
Scout my brother, now, she asked of Yar.
<><><>
A few hours later, with the greyish daylight deepening, the unusually sharp but familiar touch of her aoutem raced through her mind. She joined with him, instantly seeing through his eyes, but saw only the way ahead. It took a moment before she understood, as the scents he smelled so acutely reached her own sensory receptors.
There was something ... no someone ahead. She stiffened. The scent was human. She held her connection tight, drawing in everything Yar scented and sensed. There was more than one. This was impossible. This was the Frozen Mountains where no one lived ... or survived. She pushed outward with her senses, seeking what waited, but hit a block.
Hold, she said to the rantor. Wait.
She moved closer to Nomar, then reached out and touched him. “Nomar.”
