by Mary Corran
Turning back to see how far they had come, Mallory was dismayed to see a slim figure moving back from the end of the bridge across the valley the way they had come.
‘Asher, she’s running off!’ he called, shouting above the noise of the torrent, pointing frantically back.
‘You go on, I’ll go after her.’ Mallory shouted: ‘No!’ but Asher was already edging round the wagon and striding rapidly back across the bridge, not daring to run for fear of startling the horses. Once on solid ground, however, she took to her heels in pursuit, gaining rapidly as the girl moved much more slowly in her still-weakened condition.
She must have been awake and heard what I said to Mallory about Avorian being so close. Asher cursed herself for being so gullible.
‘Menna!’ she called, seeing the girl hesitate at the start of the pass; she enjoyed a fair start. ‘Come back!’
Menna must have heard her, but still she moved off into the shadows of the pass; Asher ran on, already envisioning disaster. Warnings of danger throbbed in her mind, but she would not turn back, not when she was within only a hundred feet of her prey.
She called again, hoping against hope, for the girl had slowed her pace, then stopped altogether beside a pile of boulders.
‘Menna!’
The girl did not move; she seemed mesmerized by something hidden from sight by the rocks. Asher covered the remaining ground between them at a run, but still Menna neither turned her head nor tried to run.
‘Get away.’
She spoke so softly Asher thought she was crying, until she looked where Menna was looking and saw what held her motionless.
A hissing snarl greeted her arrival, and a glimpse of long off-white teeth as the creature widened its jaws in a defiant growl. Angry eyes of gold-green flared as the sleek body tensed to spring, the tip of the tail lashing furiously, the hind-quarters quivering in readiness. The silvery-white fur was dotted with a design of pale spots, but underneath the ribs were too prominent, and one of the large forepaws had an ugly gash which looked new and sore; it was a snow-leopard, but an old beast, strayed down from the high hills in search of food.
And this time there was no Bull with a net. Nor was this a trained Asiri watch-cat, but a wild creature close to starvation.
Even without using her gift, Asher’s dilemma was plain; the beast was going to attack Menna or herself. This, then, was the meaning of the warning she had seen, the moment of decision which was, at the same time, already past. Asher tensed at the same moment the beast gave warning of intent to spring; as the leopard leaped, so did she, pushing Menna, who was right in its path, roughly aside as the animal’s full weight landed on her, knocking her to her back to the ground, holding up her arms in a desperate attempt to protect her throat.
The leopard’s claws pierced her right shoulder and left arm, sharp pain following moments later. The beast’s breath was rank as its head nuzzled at her arms, trying to push them aside to get a clear path to her throat; when that failed, it fixed long teeth round her right forearm and bit down hard through the thick wool of her jacket. Asher heard herself scream as her own blood began to drip on to her face, appalling pain spreading up her arm, and she struggled to breathe against the pressure of the leopard’s weight full on her chest and stomach. The shadowy patterns in her mind dizzied her as she fought for her life, seeing her own death and life fuse together as the number of choices was reduced to three, then two ...
The locked jaws about her forearm gave suddenly. She heard someone let out a sob, and felt more agony as the claws were unhooked from her arm and shoulder and the heavy weight of the leopard was rolled off her chest. Blood had dripped into her eyes, and she could not see through the haze of pain, but someone was kneeling beside her, wiping her face with a piece of cloth.
‘Asher? Are you alive? Asher?’
Menna bent over her, her hands already busy tearing her skirts for makeshift bandages with which to staunch the flow of blood. Her touch was light but nonetheless an agony, and Asher wished, for the first time in her life, that she could faint and not be forced to bear it.
‘How?’
‘I hit it with a rock while it attacked you.’ Menna finished winding a strip of her skirt round Asher’s forearm, then sat back on her heels; the leopard lay unheeded, senseless or dead, at her side, its skull a mass of blood. The smell reached Asher, mingled with her own, and she retched. ‘Do you think you can stand? I’m not strong enough to carry you.’
The pain made her light-headed. Asher allowed Menna to help her sit up, then, sweating, to kneel; she had not considered how difficult it was to move without the use of her arms, but any movement at all set her muscles aching and the blood flowing.
Rapid footsteps heralded Mallory’s arrival; he took in the scene at a glance, then looked at Menna.
‘Will you help? Or must I take the time to bind you?’
Menna straightened in unconscious dignity. ‘She saved my life. I give my word I will stay with her until she is somewhere she can be cared for.’
‘If I take Asher, you’ll not run?’
‘No. Not even if my guardian were to appear this instant.’
‘If Avorian catches us, she has no hope.’ Mallory watched her carefully. ‘He must be close by.’
‘I owe him a great deal, but not so much as this.’ Menna put out a tentative hand to Asher. ‘I was its prey, not she; if I doubted your intent, she has proved it must be for my good. I only wish I understood the reason.’
Mallory bent and lifted Asher in his arms, anxious at the amount of blood still flowing from the wounds in her shoulder. ‘So do we all, Menna.’ He knew a stab of pain as he looked down at Asher’s thin face, saw the effort not to cry out, even now, and wondered what his choice would have been if it had lain between saving her or Menna. To be with Asher was to be in a constant state of apprehension; yet she had added a new dimension to his existence, a companionship on a deeper level than he had ever imagined possible, and to contemplate life without her now was to lose that which gave him purpose. He had no direct stake in the future, no children, no creative impulse; the trading empire of his clan would go on whether he lived or died, in one way or another. Asher was the only woman he had ever known — or man, if it came to that — he could ever trust, without reserve, because she was loyal to whatever she believed; it was an echo of his own sense of duty, of obligation.
‘If you feel like that,’ Menna said softly at his side, ‘then why don’t you tell her so?’
It was not the first time he had been caught unawares by her intuitive understanding, but it startled him nonetheless. ‘I wish it were so simple,’ he answered truthfully.
‘Can you not ask her to become your wife?’
‘I could ask, but would she agree? And would it be for the best?’ He could tell Asher was conscious and listening, but she made no sign she had heard.
They laid her in the rear of the wagon; Menna bathed her wounds a second time with water from the river while Mallory set about firing the bridge. A light wind had got up, easing his task, and the flames spread with satisfying speed along the hempen ropes, soon engulfing the wooden boards. Menna gave a small sigh from her place at Asher’s side.
‘How hard it is to do the right thing,’ she murmured. ‘Or even to know what is right.’
Mallory nodded, his respect for her increasing. ‘I think, from what I’ve seen, you will find it less hard than most, mistress.’
She made an impatient gesture, but he saw she was pleased by the compliment. ‘We must find someone to apply salve to these wounds; the cat’s claws were filthy, and they may fester.’
‘Indeed.’ He climbed up to the driver’s seat and urged the horses into motion once more, knowing Asher would feel each bump and every pothole along the trail. She had mentioned a farmhouse further on where they could spend the night; he hoped they would reach it quickly.
*
‘This is ridiculous!’ Jerr said acidly, surveying the ruin of the bridge. ‘Maste
r, your diviner has lost his gift. He should have foreseen this, at least.’
All eyes turned to Lassar, who answered composedly; ‘The man and woman between them have a way of disrupting what is most probable, turning the least likely outcome into the most. There is still no doubt we shall take them before they reach the border; the woman is wounded, and they cannot travel far.’
‘You are certain it is she, not Menna?’ demanded Avorian irritably.
‘There is no doubt.’
Jerr’s mount reared, kicking out, and he struggled with the reins. ‘Why don’t we cross here, all the same? The current’s strong, but the water’s none too deep. We’d save much time.’
Lassar turned and gave him an oddly disconcerting stare. ‘Try, if you wish for death.’
‘Why should I believe you, when you’ve been wrong so often these past days?’ Jerr challenged, his temper rising. ‘Perhaps this is all a trick, and you’re in the pay of this man?’ He made the accusation in anger, not because he believed it. ‘I’ll try the river, and I will reach them first!’
Avorian, whose expression had displayed a fleeting and quite unfamiliar doubt, nodded his encouragement. Lassar opened his mouth to speak, but at a sign shut it again, understanding Avorian’s intent: this was to be another test of his own skills.
‘Go, then,’ Avorian ordered. ‘If you succeed, we will follow.’
Jerr hesitated briefly, staring at the fast-flowing river where he could see chunks of ice amid the current; but the water was clear, and the river bed seemed flat and manageable. He walked his horse down the shallow rocky bank and into the water. Moving slowly, he went further out, towards the main current, feeling the surge of power against his thighs as the water level rose higher, and his horse stumbled on a rock; it recovered, and Jerr turned back to wave encouragement to the party on the bank.
As he did so, his mount put a foot in a deep hole, throwing both itself and Jerr off balance; the current thundered at man and beast, buffeting them with cruel force until the poor animal lost its footing entirely. Jerr could feel the moment when its foreleg snapped and the horse collapsed, submerging him in midstream. He tried to hold on, but the next moment a lump of ice smacked into his side, winding him and breaking at least one of his ribs; the water was too cold, and his hands could no longer grip. With a despairing cry he slipped sideways, and the current, as if sensing no further resistance, took him and his horse, tossing them contemptuously against submerged rocks as if they were no more than driftwood.
Avorian, watching from the shore, inclined his head towards Lassar. ‘As ever, you see rightly,’ he observed with a faint smile.
Lassar received the compliment with some complacency. ‘As you say, Councillor. Jerr was a man who always chose to be blind.’
‘Then we go south, to the other bridge. Holla!’ he called to the waiting men, wheeling his horse, his good humour thoroughly restored.
Chapter Eighteen
Asher roused, blurred vision coming to focus on two candles flickering in an otherwise dark space. Around her was the scent of damp earth. She lay still on her back on a hard wooden cot, but there was nothing else to be seen in the room; it looked familiar, and she was not alarmed. She was distantly aware of the passage of time since her encounter with the leopard, but it was more like a dream than a remembrance. She blinked, bringing Menna instantly to her side.
‘You’re awake. Good,’ she whispered. ‘Keep still, and speak low.’
‘Where are we?’
‘The farmhouse, with Bran and Soraya. Do you remember?’
‘Yes.’ Warily, Asher raised herself from her prone position, finding her right arm neatly bandaged. ‘Thank you for this.’
‘The cuts will heal, as long as no infection sets in, and no bones are broken. You were very lucky.’
‘Where’s Mallory?’ Asher knew a momentary panic. ‘He’s safe?’
‘As much as any of us.’ His voice came from the darkness, away from the light of the candles. ‘I’ve been checking the other way out from this cellar. Soraya said it came up behind the lean-to at the side of the house, but to make sure it was clear. We can use it if necessary.’
‘They’re coming.’ The calm certainty she experienced told her it was already too late to effect an escape. ‘They’ll find us.’
‘We know.’ It was Menna who answered her. ‘Bran warned us; he saw them in the distance with a telescope. But at least we’ll be able to hear what’s going on in the house upstairs when they get here — there’s an opening in the roof just by the hearth, see?’
‘I remember — ’ Asher broke off, hearing Soraya’s low voice say: ‘What shall we do?’ and Bran answer: ‘Let them in. We can’t lock the door against so many.’
‘I could leave you here. You’d be safe if my guardian believed you’d gone on without me,’ Menna offered.
‘He’ll know we’re here.’ Asher looked at Menna. ‘Lassar will tell him.’
‘Then I’ll stay with you. Perhaps — ’
‘Hush!’ Mallory gestured towards the cellar roof. ‘Listen.’
Above, a door crashed open and something heavy was overturned. Asher tried to recall the layout of the upstairs room from her last visit. It was a long rectangle covering the entire ground floor of the farmhouse, with a sleeping gallery above the end by the open hearth which was used in the summer; during the long, cold border winters, Bran and Soraya used the cupboard beds lining the walls to either side of the fireplace. She had slept in one herself on her first journey north, and one was also the entrance to the cellar where they were hidden.
‘Where is the girl?’ Avorian’s commanding voice carried clearly to their shelter. ‘And the man and woman who were with her?’
‘What girl?’ Bran protested. ‘We’re alone here. Who are you, and by what right do you force your way into our house, with a small army at your back?’
‘You — search the outbuildings. You four go through this room. They must be here.’ There were sounds of movement and more slamming of doors, and for a while it became difficult to hear what was being said.
‘What do we do?’ Asher whispered to Mallory. ‘Stay, or make a bolt for it?’
He shook his head. ‘Stay.’ He turned to Menna. ‘You?’
She would look at neither of them. ‘I should go to him. He must be frantic with worry after so many days,’ she said, but did not leave her place beside Asher.
‘Lassar, is she here?’ Avorian sounded coldly furious. ‘You said she would be here!’
‘She is here.’ Lassar’s voice was easily recognized. ‘Close by.’
‘Then where?’ There was the sound of a woman’s cry, and Menna clenched her fists. ‘Where have you hidden them?’
‘Leave her be — ’ But Bran’s protest was abruptly stayed.
‘Show me, if you value your wife!’ Soraya cried out again. ‘Or your farm.’
‘There’s no one here but yourselves,’ Bran said loudly. ‘Keep your hands off her!’
There came the sound of a blow, then an uneasy silence overhead. Menna hid her face in her hands.
‘Mallory — ’ Asher began, but was again interrupted by a resumption of conversation upstairs.
‘They’re not in the barn nor the stable, Councillor, but I found their wagon and team.’
‘Good.’ There was a short intermission, then Avorian spoke again, they guessed to Bran. ‘You will tell me where the girl is, or I shall fire your farm.’ A gasp of shock came from Menna, as if she had not wanted to believe her guardian capable of such conduct. Neither Bran nor Soraya spoke.
‘Very well.’ Avorian’s voice held no hint of softening. ‘You four, tear this place apart, timber by timber, and burn the wreckage; outside, for the moment, in case Menna is hidden here.’
‘No — ’ Soraya’s plea was cut off.
‘I cannot allow this to continue.’ Menna rose to her feet; her borrowed clothes were torn, and there was blood on her skirts where Asher’s arm had lain. A whisker of smoke
drifted down to the cellar. Menna paused, then took a pace forward. She seemed to trip then recovered herself, but her hands were trembling, and she was very pale.
‘Menna?’ Mallory ventured, but she took a violent step back.
‘Leave me be!’
‘Help me up, Mallory,’ Asher said softly. ‘I can walk, if you’ll give me your arm.’
‘Can you see, Ash? What’s going to happen?’
She wished she could lie to him, but he deserved better from her than false assurances. ‘Nothing good, I think,’ she said steadily.
He pulled her to her feet, holding her close for a moment. ‘We must hope, then, that in showing Menna Avorian’s true nature we’ve done the best we could. Asher ... ’ He hesitated. ‘Will you stay down here, or leave by the other door and get away? I’m afraid to have to watch him hurt you.’
For once she did not try to back away, experiencing a bitter pleasure in the contact; his touch was welcome, not constricting. ‘I feel the same, Mallory. Or did you believe you had the monopoly on such things?’ A dull ache in her heart brought back images of Mylla’s death, memories of guilt, of powerlessness. ‘For once I wish you could be a coward.’
‘Ah, Ash!’ He managed a laugh. ‘We’re too much alike, and I am a coward, for I know what fear is.’ His arms tightened round her.
‘I will lead the way.’
Menna took hold of one of the candles and lit the steps leading to the main room above, from whence came further sounds of rending. Her expression was fiercely determined as she moved aside the planks making up the base of the cupboard bed that hid the entrance to the cellar and climbed up. The doors to the main room were shut as Mallory and Asher joined her. She placed the palms of her hands against the wood, nerving herself.
‘Now.’ She pushed at the doors, which opened out to crash back against the wall.
The effect of the sound on the inhabitants of the room beyond was remarkable; all activity ceased on the instant, and, as they watched, Avorian’s angry expression changed to gratified recognition. Asher saw his pleasure at the sight of his adopted daughter was genuine; the affection she had noted in his manner to her in the past was still there, and her heart sank at the thought Menna might feel the same.