CHAPTER THIRTY

They awoke to a brilliant blue morning and picked their way down the forested slope, following the trail across the valley floor and over the next ridge. There, the land climbed higher before flattening onto a white expanse punctuated by frozen lakes.

Around noon, clouds rolled in from the north. The shallow beams of the winter sun broke around their bulging shapes, colouring them black and gold. The sky, having dawned so clear, began to fill with a kind of foreboding. They pulled their cloaks tighter against the chill.

They were riding through a stand of pines; ahead a treeline was visible. That meant another lake. Kai was a few yards ahead, leading the third horse behind him. Erlan watched him emerge from under the snow-mantled branches. And then, abruptly, he stopped.

‘What is it?’ Erlan called.

‘Come see for yourself.’

As he drew alongside, he looked down to where Kai was pointing.

There in the snow, the ragtag tracks they’d followed for so many leagues separated into three distinct trails. One led right, along the eastern edge of the lake; a second to the west, across the frozen lake; the third cut back south into the forest. Erlan jumped down.

Kai dismounted after him, while Erlan squatted over the fork in the tracks, examining them. He felt Kai beside him, and was startled when the boy suddenly kicked the snow and swore violently.

‘I knew it was too bloody good to last! As if they’d lead us by the nose to their stronghold. Baah! They’ve been stringing us along like hogs to a roasting.’

Erlan gave a wry snort, and continued glowering at the three sets of footprints.

‘This seems to be the larger pack of them.’ Kai pointed at the middle path across the lake.

‘Might be. . . But they seem to step in each other’s footprints a good deal. Besides, we’re to follow whichever leads to Lady Lilla. She may not be with the biggest pack.’

‘Could any of these be hers?’

They looked again, squinting at every ruck and ripple in the snow.

Kai shook his head. ‘It’s bloody impossible.’

Erlan pointed to the trail leading back into the woods. ‘Follow that one a little way – might be you’ll see more. I’ll check this one,’ he said, striding out onto the lake.

‘I doubt it’s this lot,’ called Kai. ‘This way heads back to the lowlands. My guess is they dwell in the mountains.’

‘Look anyway.’

A short while later, Kai appeared back at the lake edge. ‘Anything?’ he shouted. Erlan was a hundred paces out on the lake, peering at the marks in the snow.

‘Nothing.’

They met at the split, and together followed the trail heading north along the eastern shoreline. After fifty paces or so, Kai snapped.

‘This is hopeless! We just have to pick one.’

‘Wait. Let’s think. Why are they doing this?’

‘How the Hel should I know? To piss us off?’

Erlan chuckled. ‘Well, are they trying to throw us off or aren’t they?’

‘Why would they be so obvious this far, and only now stop us following?’

‘To buy some time, maybe. Or else Sviggar’s plan worked better than he knew: they wanted to lure his whole host, and somehow they found out we’re just two, so they want to drop us.’

‘Or split us up.’

Erlan stood, toeing the broken clumps of snow. Why had he never learned the skills of a tracker? The footprints seemed to taunt him – they knew the answer, but they were keeping their secret. Anger started boiling in him.

‘Hel’s spawn!’ he spat. ‘We’re not turning back. Not now. We’d be a laughing stock.’

‘So let’s just pick one.’

Erlan rounded on Kai. ‘Aye, but which fucking one? We pick the wrong way and we’ll follow a fool’s trail for days, if not weeks. We could be out here all damn winter!’

‘Well, I know which I’d pick. That middle one. Straight on, the way we were going. Straight up into the hills.’

Erlan shook his head. ‘Too obvious. If I had to pick I’d say the way back into the woods. My guess is they want to deceive us by cutting in a different direction. I’d wager this horse that path swings north if we keep on it.’

‘Well, that’s not your horse for a start,’ observed Kai. ‘No, you credit them with too much reason, master. That girl said they could hardly speak more than grunts. We’re not trying to outsmart some old riddler here.’

‘They outriddled Torkel’s lot, easy enough. And everyone else. Look, I pick that path, so that’s the path we take. I don’t like it any better than you, but that’s my decision.’

Kai shook his head and shrugged.

‘Sulk all you like, that’s the way we go.’

They were soon mounted and, with scant enthusiasm between them, set off along the left-hand track.

They were about to head back under trees when a bird swooped low and fast in front of them, causing Erlan to check his reins.

The bay stopped, and the company came to a halt. The bird, meanwhile, had settled on the branch of a small spruce that stood nearby, and began to call. Its voice was anything but sweet – something between a chirp and a caw.

Erlan had never seen a bird exactly like it. It reminded him of the wood jays he’d known in the land of his fathers. But this was an altogether drabber creature, its feathers shades of brown or grey, apart from the shoulder of its wings and the underside of its tail feathers, where there were a couple of splashes the colour of rust.

The bird strained its beak wide open, repeating its squeaky call. Erlan listened a while, then kicked on his horse. But no sooner had it moved off than the bird took off, flapping round and round his head.

‘Funny little thing,’ he said, but carried on. The bird alighted on another branch ahead and redoubled its call.

Erlan stopped again to watch it.

‘What’s the hold-up?’ asked Kai.

‘Just this bird. Noisy little brute.’

As he spoke, the bird took off and settled on another tree nearer the lakeshore, then began squawking away again. When Erlan turned to walk on, the bird flew back to him. He looked again and the bird flitted towards the lake and stopped in another tree.

‘What’s it doing?’

‘It’s a bird. They hop around. They make a racket,’ shrugged Kai, still in a sulk.

‘Maybe,’ murmured Erlan, curious now. ‘But this one’s different. Watch.’

He pushed the bay on again into the wood, and sure enough, the bird flew ahead of him, then stopped in a tree at the level of their heads, and squeaked for all it was worth. When they stopped, it flew back towards the lake.

‘You see what it’s doing?’ Erlan smiled.

‘No.’

‘He wants us to follow.’

‘What? That’s ridiculous.’

‘Is it? Let’s see.’

He pulled the reins around and prodded the bay back towards the lake. The bird went wild, flapping all over the place.

He followed and it flew off again in the same direction, first to a branch, then back with the riders, then ahead again, as if dragging along these men and beasts by force of its tiny will.

They were soon back at the fork.

‘Let’s see what it does now,’ said Erlan.

The bird had flown eagerly ahead, around the eastern edge of the lake. It alighted and looked back, and seeing the riders had halted, quick as a whip, it was back, fluttering round their heads, badgering them onwards.

‘It can’t really be trying to show us the way,’ said Kai.

‘There’s only one way to find out.’

They pushed their horses into a slow trot after it. The bird went wild with excitement, squawking and squeaking and flapping.

‘The spirits of the forest, eh?’ called Erlan, with a chuckle.

‘What did you say?’

‘The spirits of the forest. Might be they’re helping us.’

For a moment, Kai came over all serious.

‘What is it?’

‘A thought, is all.’

‘Well?’

‘It’s mad.’

‘Yours usually are. Go on – tell me.’

‘The bird. What you just said. . . makes me think of the old seidman.’

‘Grimnar? What of him?’

‘All his masks. You remember ’em?’

‘Sure.’

‘He said he was a shape-shifter. You reckon he told it true?’

Erlan shrugged. ‘Suppose if anyone could, it’d have to be him.’

‘You didn’t notice a songbird’s mask on his wall?’ An uncertain smile was creeping over the boy’s face.

‘Wait – you think that bird might be him? You are mad!’

‘What, as mad as you? Here we are in the middle of nowhere chasing a bloody bird.’

Erlan scratched at his neck, thoughtfully. ‘All right, let’s ask him.’

‘What?’

‘What was the last thing the old hermit said? “Listen to the forest,” was it? “Listen and watch.”’ He gave a shrug. ‘So then – let’s ask the bird.’

They’d reached the end of the lake, and the clouds were spreading thick and dark overhead. The trail was there in the snow, and the bird had found a perch where the tracks disappeared into the trees again. The two riders came to a halt in front of him.

For a while, they sat silent.

‘Go on then, master. Ask away.’

Erlan shot him a warning look, and then cleared his throat.

‘Well, it doesn’t need to be a bloody speech.’

‘Just keep your mouth shut, you! Right then. . . erm. . . Spirit of the forest. . . or little bird. We know not which. . . Oh, what the Hel – this is stupid!’

‘Go on,’ urged Kai.

Erlan rolled his eyes. ‘Little bird. Tell us. . . erm. . . if you can – are you Grimnar, the night-watcher?’

There they sat, waiting for any kind of signal from the bird.

The little creature continued to watch them, its bright eyes blinking. It no longer squawked, but now and then a short chirp escaped its beak as it hopped about.

‘This is fucking ridiculous,’ said Erlan suddenly. ‘Let’s get on.’

Kai roared with laughter. ‘Oh, a fine tale this’ll make if we make it back home!’ he crowed, nearly choking. ‘A tale to top ’em all!’

‘Just try to keep up,’ scowled Erlan, cantering off along the trail. ‘We’ve wasted enough time as it is.’

‘Of course, my master! Onward to glory!’ cried Kai, kicking on his mount after him.

And as he followed Erlan under the trees, the first flakes of snow began to fall.

All that afternoon, the sky darkened and the snow fell thicker, until their hands and feet throbbed with the cold. And all the while the trail grew ever fainter.

When they saw the snow would continue, they made markers for the scouts following behind: broken branches or cuts in the bark showing the way they’d come.

‘I hope they’re better trackers than we are,’ said Erlan.

‘That wouldn’t be hard,’ observed Kai.

The woodland opened out into empty plains of windswept drifts, where only the hardiest bushes and stunted trees stood, leaning bleak and bare against the northern winds. A weird kind of a sunfall filtered across the horizon like a bloodstain, and then receded into darkness.

The bird was now leading them far more than the footsteps vanishing under the snow, until at last they reached the shelter of the trees again. They made camp with hardly a word, little doubting it would be a miserable night.

Later that night Erlan watched the eyes of his friend close in sleep. The bird was nestled in the crook of Kai’s chest, lured there by a few morsels of bread. Erlan wondered where Lilla was that night. Maybe somewhere in this white world, wretched and cold. He gazed out from under their shelter at the flurries of snow settling on the ground. Soon all hope for her – like the tracks they had followed – would vanish for ever.

Far away, a wolf called.

He pulled his covers close, and let his eyes fall shut.

A few hours later, he started awake.

He looked over at Kai, eyes still blurred with sleep, and saw the boy was sitting bolt upright and looking like he was awaiting an answer.

‘Did you say something?’

‘I said, today is the day,’ replied Kai. ‘I know it.’

Erlan sniffed. ‘Oh, aye – here’s hoping. Anything’s better than another night like that.’

‘No – you don’t understand. I saw Grimnar.’

At the seidman’s name, Erlan sat up. ‘You did? Where?’

‘In a dream.’

‘Oh,’ sighed Erlan, settling back onto his sheepskin with a yawn. ‘A dream, huh?’

‘I saw him. He was grinning with that black mouth of his. Like he had a joke on us. . . or something. Least, that’s how I remember it. And he said, “Today. The end of your road. Today.”’

Erlan grunted, turning his gaze to the forest. The snow had ceased in the night. The air was still as a grave and a soft mist clung about the trees. Everything was bowed with fresh powder. ‘It’s the end of the road, all right. Unless we really believe this bird can help us find the way.’ He nodded at the jay, perched on a nearby branch and looking a sight less cheerful than the day before. ‘You see anything else in this dream?’

‘The whole world was white. And he stood before a massive wall. It was huge – bigger than anything I ever saw. Seemed there was no way round it.’

‘Did he point to it or anything?’

‘No, it was just there.’

Erlan considered this a while. ‘Reminds me of stories I once heard. You must know them – of the different worlds. The edge of Midgard, the world of men. Isn’t there supposed to be a huge wall that separates our world from the land of the giants? Or else the land of the gods?’

‘The giants, I think.’

‘Then maybe we’ve come to the end of the world.’

‘Bloody small world, if that’s true.’

‘No doubt. Anyhow, we have little choice.’

‘Then let’s get started,’ said Kai, climbing to his feet with weary determination.

The horses were soon ready. Meanwhile, the bird flitted from tree to tree impatiently. At last, Erlan pulled himself onto the bay’s back.

He looked at Kai with a shrug and then said to the bird, ‘Lead on.’

At once, the jay set off through the forest, alighting, returning, chivvying along the riders. With the fresh snow, the going was much heavier, and often they had to jump down and lead the horses through the deeper drifts.

But their little guide kept them working all morning.

Soon they heard the sound of running water, and came to a river of jagged rocks slick with ice, swirling eddies and lingering mist. They followed the western bank of this into the afternoon, while the land to the west climbed higher and higher into the mist.

At a certain bend, the bird fluttered around them and made a show of flying off to the west, away from the river. By now, the companions had surrendered themselves wholeheartedly to following wherever their little friend led them, so they turned west obediently.

The path led upwards through an old, old forest of dead trees. The ground grew steeper, the snow deeper, the horses struggling on.

At last the trees thinned, and they emerged onto a slope that dropped away to the south. Ahead were two spruce trees, grown tall and thin, standing like silent sentinels, guarding their path. Beyond them, a tangle of frosted branches in a crystal scrubland of bushes and stunted trees, and still further ahead, something. . . Some vast shadow looming indistinct, yet immense. As they drew closer, the mist began to thin, and suddenly the travellers halted.

In front of them rose a massive wall of rock.

‘I’ve seen this place,’ whispered Kai.

‘The dream?’

Kai nodded slowly. ‘The end of the road.’

‘Or the end of the world.’

‘Could be the same thing for us,’ said Erlan, gazing up.

It stood high as fifty men. His eye followed the line of its summit as far as it could, but the wall disappeared in each direction into fog. Its sheer face was dusted white, but much of the cliff was so steep that vast black rocks jagged out from the enshrouding whiteness, like the features of some giant of the earth. At its base, the snow had drifted deep.

The bird was perched patiently on a nearby bush covered in hoarfrost.

‘Onwards. To the end.’ Erlan led on through the snow, past the ice-bound shrubs. As they approached the cliff, he saw there was something else, at once weird, yet very beautiful.

The icefall shone brightly, glistening even in the dreary light, its smooth curves and jagged points cascading down over one another from the towering summit, down and down to the ground where they stood. They gazed, fascinated at the ice, which fell in a torrent of mad shapes.

Kai was first to notice the bird had settled.

‘Look!’ he said, pointing to a gap on one side where the falling ice had separated from the rock. There was space enough for a man to enter there. A void that seemed to beckon.

The jay sat on a splinter of rock beside the fissure, squawking hard enough to burst a lung.

‘Take a look,’ said Erlan.

Kai leaped down from his mare and struggled the last few strides through the snow to the hole. Cautiously he put his head inside, and then immediately recoiled.

‘Urgh! It stinks like rotten meat.’

Erlan jumped down and joined him. They peered into the gloom, hands covering their mouths.

‘It seems to go down,’ said Erlan.

‘We’ll need torches. Unless you fancy groping your way to Lady Lilla.’ Kai couldn’t resist a smile.

But Erlan didn’t smile. Instead he put a hand on Kai’s shoulder. ‘Listen to me. This is where our path together must end. At least, for a time.’

‘What the Hel are you talking about?’

‘I’m sorry, Kai. But I must go on alone.’

‘You can’t mean that!’

‘I know you won’t like it – but you can’t come any further. If this leads to their stronghold, in some foul hole down there, someone has to stay alive to guide Sviggar and his men to it. Without us, he’ll never find this place.’

Kai looked suddenly very young. ‘But. . . but you’ll need my help. . .’

‘Your time will come, my brother. But you must stay here. What use is it to come this far, if we both of us disappear into an abyss down there and no one ever hears another thing? Maybe Lilla is dead. But I must try to find her. And if we don’t come back, then Sviggar wants a red day – for his daughter and for his murdered people. Aye – and his murdered son.’

‘But—’ Kai began to protest, but seeing Erlan’s mind was made up, he screwed up his face and swore. ‘You are the master,’ he said, in a brittle voice. ‘What would you have me do?’

‘Wait here. If I’m not back by sundown tomorrow, ride for Sviggar’s host. They’ll only be two, maybe three days back by then. You know the way – down to the river, then south and follow our tracks to the lake where the trail split. When you find them, bring them here. And meantime, pray to the Thunder God that it doesn’t snow.’

‘Snow or not – I’ll find the way. What about you?’

‘Me?’ Erlan frowned. ‘You can pray for me, too.’

A short while later, they had fashioned a torch: a pine branch, stripped, split into four, and stuffed with birch bark and a few strips from a blanket for kindling.

‘Should last a while,’ said Kai.

‘A while – aye. Then what?’

For once, the boy had no answer.

Erlan took out his flint, his firesteel and a char-cloth from his pouch. He crouched down and the sparks flew in little arcs from the circle of metal until the cloth started to smoulder. He held it to the torch and soon the kindling began to smoke and crackle.

‘Here,’ he said, pressing the tools into Kai’s hand as the flames caught.

Last of all, Erlan drew his sword. The ice-cracks echoed with the rasp of steel. Wrathling shone like a comet as he held it aloft.

He was ready.

‘The gods go with you, brother.’ Kai’s face was pale.

‘And with you.’

His dark eyes held the boy’s for but a moment.

Then he plunged into the darkness.