Just then, the crow swooped down. He landed by Yim’s foot to peck it in an agitated manner. Then he cawed and took off to perch farther into the swamp. Yim was still hungry and continued to eat until Kwahku fluttered down to peck her again. Irritated, she shooed the bird off. Then she heard men’s voices and understood the reason for the crow’s behavior. The voices didn’t come from a single place, but from a broad area. Yim had heard of hunts where men advanced in line to flush their quarry, and it seemed the best way to search a reed-filled swamp. Yim gazed with dismay at all her footprints on the muddy hummock. Then she heard splashing as a great many feet entered the water.
Kwahku flew off again, and Yim abandoned any hope of hiding her footprints; there wasn’t time. She hurried after the bird, trying hard to leave no trail, for she knew that when her pursuers reached the hummock they’d know that she had been there. Spurred by desperation, she maintained a good pace and traveled swiftly. Gradually, the black water got deeper. In a few places, it nearly reached her neck. One such spot was choked with lily pads. Kwahku flew over it to perch on a clump of reeds. When Yim reached the clump, the water was only waist-deep, and she expected the bird to take off again. He did not. Instead he cawed and gazed down at Yim.
By the crow’s actions, Yim decided that she was supposed to hide at that spot. She was in no state to question why she was obeying a bird; she simply squatted down until only her head was above water. Then she scooped up muck and smeared it on her face and hair. That done, she pulled a blanket of lily pads over her head. Then she waited.
The leeches arrived long before the soldiers. Yim could feel them, a subtle stealthy touch, followed by stillness as they fed. Nevertheless, she remained motionless. The leeches were driven only by hunger and meant no harm. The soldiers were another matter. Yim wondered what drove them so hard to hunt her. Fear? Greed? Duty? She also wondered who drove them, since their lord had lost his power. She suspected it was Gorm, not Bahl.
The advance was as noisy as might be expected from armored men walking in line through a swamp. The cursing was loud and abundant, which made Yim realize that the search was counting on thoroughness rather than stealth to catch its prey. A line of men to make a human net , she thought. Will I slip through a hole? The sound of splashing grew louder.
“A pox on this place!” said a voice. It sounded close. “It’ll take days to polish my armor.” “Aye, curse that bitch!”
“She’s here somewhere. So mark my words, we’ll be here, too, until we find her.”
The splashing became loud. Yim could hear the armor creak. When the water began to ripple, she gulped air and totally submerged. Yim held her breath until she felt her lungs would burst. When she rose to breathe, the sounds of the searchers came from behind. Gradually, they diminished.
Yim waited until all was quiet before she pushed aside the lily pads. Kwahku briefly alighted on a nearby pad before flying off in the direction from which the soldiers had come. Yim sighed and hurried after him.
Leaving took longer than Honus expected. Other officers besides Havren approached him and pleaded with him to stay. Although he patiently listened to each one, he remained resolved to go. But when Havren brought him a large sack of grain, he told Honus something that further delayed his departure.
“Honus, a deserter named Hendric has seen your Bearer.” Honus froze. “Where is he?”
“In the rear. He just arrived half-dead from thirst. I’ll take you to him.”
Havren led Honus to where the deserters had been collected and took him to a haggard and ragged man who was hungrily devouring some cold porridge. Preoccupied by his meal, the man appeared startled when Honus called his name. Suspecting that Hendric had never seen a Sarf before, Honus kept his excitement in check and appeared placid. He bowed politely. “I’m told that you encountered a dark-haired woman recently.”
“Aye, Mirien.”
Honus recognized the name. Gan’s murdered sister! He wondered if there was a message in Yim’s choice of alias. “And she was young with dark eyes and shoulder-length hair?”
“Aye, that beed her.”
“Then know that I serve this woman and am pledged to protect her.”
Hendric regarded Honus suspiciously. “She said no one could help her.”
“Perhaps that was true at the time, but no longer. When did you meet?”
“On the night Lord Bahl lost his hold on me. Mirien said she was fleeing him. We fled together.”
“What happened next?”
“We hid all day in a burnt-out hut with not a drop of water. Last night, we went to look for some. There beed soldiers about, and I ran off to lure them away from her. I think I did, but I can’t say for sure.”
“And that was the last you saw of her?”
“Aye.”
“Where were you?”
“In a grain field a half day to the west.”
“Then you headed east to here. Why?”
“Mirien told me to come this way. She said there’d be help for me.”
“Then why was she headed west?”
“She said she had to find a home. Someplace far away.”
Honus felt stunned, though he hid it. “And was she well?”
“I could see no hurts, although she walked as if something pained her. And she said she had been with Count Yaun. He be hard on women. Exceeding hard.”
Honus fought to control his rage, but his icy voice betrayed his feelings. “I think I know the man.”
“He be dead now. Mirien said so. I beed glad to hear it.”
“So other than her gait, she appeared unharmed?”
“Well, she beed cold. Unnatural cold if ye ask me.” When Honus said nothing, Hendric asked timidly. “Be ye some kind of holy man?”
“No. I only serve a holy one.”
“Be Mirien holy?”
“Yes. Why do you ask?”
“Because she said she knew what I did and forgave me.”
“Then you’ve truly been absolved,” said Honus. He turned to Havren. “When you return to your clan hall, would you take Hendric with you and commend him to Cara? He has done Yim and me a great service.”
“I will, Honus,” replied Havren. “Are you still resolved on your plan?”
“More than ever.”
“But it seems Yim has other plans.”
“She’s alone and in danger. I won’t rest until I find her.”
Hendric looked confused. “Yim? Who be Yim?”
“A holy one oft has several names,” replied Honus. “Yim is one of them. It seems that Mirien is another.”
Yim crouched in a thick stand of reeds at the swamp’s edge. There were bloody spots were the leeches had been, but most had dropped off by the time she had stopped fleeing. After she had plucked off the stragglers, there was nothing to do but wait for darkness. Though Yim suspected that she’d be traveling all night, she was too tense to genuinely rest. Heavy clouds had moved in, and they promised to obscure the moon. If so, it would be harder to follow the crow, but also easier to travel unseen.
After the sun set and light left the sky, Kwahku took off. When Yim had walked awhile, she perceived that they were heading toward the stronghold, and she thought she knew why: As the search for her expanded, a path toward its origin would be safer—at least if one had a sharp-eyed guide that could fly. The day’s close brush with capture had dispelled Yim’s ambivalence about following the crow, even if that meant that the Old Ones would determine her destination.
The journey that night was as difficult as Yim had feared, for the crow did not let up. The closer Yim got to the stronghold, the more imperative it was to move past it. Long after midnight, the ground began to slope upward. By then, Yim was so close to the fortress she could see the dim light from hidden fires reflected off the keep’s stone walls. The mountain behind the stronghold rose ahead. Yim climbed it until the sky began to lighten. Then Kwahku led her to a narrow crevice in the mountain’s rocky side. A film of water flowed down a po
rtion of its wall, and Yim licked it until her thirst was quenched. Then she tumbled into sleep where the Devourer waited to trouble her dreams.
The sun had nearly set when Yim awoke. She found Kwahku standing near the opening of the crevice. Before him was a sizable mound of nuts, berries, and edible seeds. Yim had no idea whether it was the bird or other creatures that had gathered the food, but she ate with relish. Afterward, she licked more water from the wall.
“Well, Kwahku, where will you take me tonight?”
The bird cocked his head eastward.
“How about I fly tonight, and you walk? It’s not easy climbing barefoot.”
Kwahku cawed.
“No?” Yim rubbed her sore feet. “Oh well, at least you haven’t given me your pack to carry.” Yim scooped up a handful of berries, and the crow ate them from her extended palm.
Yim’s quip about the pack made her think of Honus, and the thought of him awoke longing. Love for Honus had motivated Yim’s sacrifice, and she was convinced that was the reason why Karm had bestowed her “gift.” But the goddess hadn’t reclaimed that gift, even after it had fulfilled its function. Yim still loved Honus deeply, although her love had become hopeless. I must never see him again . Her reason went beyond her defilement and even the fact that she bore Lord Bahl’s child. Yim felt that she had become a host to evil and would endanger anyone she loved.
As Yim resumed climbing the mountain slope, she took solace in her belief that Honus would never face Lord Bahl’s army nor endanger himself for her sake. “Karm,” she said, “I pray for Honus, not myself. Please grant his heart peace. Let him forget me and find happiness with another. Do this for one who sacrificed all for you.”
The night wind blew Yim’s words aloft as it dried her tears. It was a chill wind, for autumn already gripped the mountain’s upper slopes. Even on the plain below, Yim had seen the first signs of approaching winter, which came early and stayed long in Averen. The higher Yim climbed, the more distant seemed the prospect of capture. That focused her mind on her next dilemma. She was with child, and the only resources she possessed were a cloak, a torn shift, and a torn blouse. She had no means to make fire, nor any of the basics for surviving alone—no knife, no pot, and no water skin. In a land gripped by feuding and roamed by the Devourer’s priests, she dared not seek help from anyone. It occurred to her that her destiny might be to die and take Bahl’s unborn heir to the Dark Path. Perhaps Kwahku’s leading me to some precipice where he’ll soar into the void and beckon me to follow . At the moment, the prospect didn’t seem so bad.
Kwahku did not take Yim to a precipice; neither did he guide her throughout the night. Instead, he flew a route that took Yim over a fold in the mountain that enclosed a high, wooded valley. Sheltered from the wind, the trees grew tall. The crow flew among them, guiding Yim to a spot beside an alpine stream. Yim drank its clear, cold water, which worked like an elixir on her. For the first time in many days, she felt a measure of peace. Coupled with it was the promise of dreamless sleep. Without even glancing toward the crow, Yim knew that he intended her to rest. Already drowsy, she found a pile of dry leaves. There, she wrapped herself in her stolen cloak to slumber, completely unaware that a huge bear sat nearby in the dark and watched her intently.
FORTY
AS YIM slept in the hidden alpine valley, Honus began the second stage of his solitary campaign. The first stage had commenced while Yim was still hiding in the swamp. That was when Honus left the army bearing his pack for the first time. Haunted by longing for the woman who last bore it, Honus focused all his thought and energy on finding her. His first task had been to conduct a stealthy and lengthy reconnaissance. He did it in the guise of a peasant, hiding his face in a hooded cloak so as not to alert Bahl’s soldiers that a Sarf shadowed them.
Honus’s observations led him to several deductions. The first was that the Iron Guard was no longer searching for deserters. As a test, Honus had shown himself several times to Bahl’s men while wearing peasant garb. Only once did it provoke a halfhearted pursuit. Thus Honus surmised that the search was solely for Yim and she was still at liberty. Since Honus could detect no preparations for a retreat, he assumed that Bahl planned to remain in the fortress until Yim was found.
As long as Yim was at large, Honus planned to harass Lord Bahl’s soldiers. By that means, he hoped to protect her. With luck, he might even find Yim while on one of his forays. Furthermore, if Bahl’s men captured her, he could attempt a rescue. Having formulated this strategy, he put it into action.
It was past midnight when Honus silently crept toward three of Bahl’s sentries. Moving from shadow to shadow, his dark blue clothes and face made him nearly invisible. Meanwhile, his quarry showed the carelessness of armed men who believed they had nothing to fear. When Honus reached them, he quickly killed two before they could draw their weapons, and he easily disarmed the third. Holding his blade against the man’s throat, Honus said, “Be still, and you may yet grow old. Why are you standing watch so far afield?”
“Because I was ordered to.”
“You’re looking for someone. Why?”
“I don’t know what ye’re talking about.”
“You’ve one more chance to talk. Why this search?”
The man said nothing, so Honus cut his throat. Afterward, he donned enough of the slain Guardsman’s equipment to pass for one of them in the dark. Then he disposed of the sentries’ bodies in a nearby well. By the time dawn approached, the well contained eighteen more Guardsmen, but Honus was none the wiser about their mission.
None of the soldiers he had interrogated revealed anything. Honus speculated on whether this was due to discipline, fear of Lord Bahl, or disbelief in the possibility of mercy. Whatever the reason, by the end of the night Honus had given up asking questions and simply slew all the sentries he surprised. He briefly had considered using torture to learn what he wanted, but rejected the idea. Yim wouldn’t approve, and he was resolved to be guided by her wisdom. He retreated into hiding only when dawn approached, satisfied that he had embodied Karm’s wrath and that twenty-one fewer men would be hunting Yim that morning.
A sniffing muzzle woke Yim. She opened her eyes to gaze on sunlight and a huge furry face. Yim had never been so close to a bear before, and she froze with terror. “Fear not,” said a voice. “She’s your friend.” As Yim turned her head, the bear licked her face. Rupeenla sat on the ground a few paces away. She bowed her head respectfully. “Greetings, Beloved Mother.”
At the sight of the faerie, Yim ignored the bear and sat up. “Beloved?” she said. “You’ve a strange way of showing it.”
“You’re angry,” said the Old One.
“Does that surprise you? You knew, didn’t you? You knew, and yet you sent me on my way believing I was going to my love.”
“You were.”
“But I had no idea what awaited me, and you did! I’m certain of it!”
“Knowledge isn’t wisdom.”
“Don’t hide behind words!”
“I knew neither what path you’d choose, nor the ends of every choice. Should I have told you that you’d suffer or that you’d save your beloved from gruesome death? Both have come to pass.”
“You could have told me something.”
“I was constrained to silence,” said Rupeenla. “I still am.”
“Constrained by whom?”
The faerie bowed so low that her forehead nearly touched the ground. “Constrained, Most Honored Mother.” When she raised her head, Rupeenla’s large cat eyes were filled with such empathy that Yim was moved. “What you suffered! What you suffer still! I’m humbled by the depth of your love.”
“That love was but Karm’s ploy to lure me to Lord Bahl.”
“Was your love for Mirien and her mother a ploy? For Hendric, Cara, Hommy, and Hamin? For all the ragged children and their worn parents? For the slain in Karm’s temple? Love has always been your strength.”
“I was speaking of my love for Honus.”
> When the Old One didn’t respond, Yim gazed into her eyes and probed her thoughts. Some were veiled even from her, but Yim found no guile, only sympathy, love, and sadness. She looked away and sighed. “I forgive you. I hurt, and I’m discouraged. But you’re right; what I did was my choice.”
Rupeenla bowed again. “And I honor you for it.”
“But that doesn’t explain why you’re here.”
“To aid you.”
“How?”
“Winter approaches, and foes search for you. You need a refuge.”
“So you’ll take me to Faerie?”
“No. What’s in your womb must never enter the Timeless Realm,” said Rupeenla. “This is a refuge of a different sort.” She gestured to the bear. “This is Gruwff,” she said, pronouncing the name like a short, hoarse cough. “Gruwff will take you as her cub and nurse you through your long sleep.”
“My long sleep?”
“One that lasts till spring, like that of Gruwff’s kindred. With a kiss, I can bestow that gift.”
It seemed a perfect solution, for it would allow Yim to disappear for moons, perhaps long enough for Bahl to abandon his search. Nevertheless, Yim had a special reason to be daunted by the prospect of so long a sleep. “My dreams are no longer wholly mine,” she said. “You know of the thing with which I struggle.”
“I do,” replied Rupeenla. “It’s terrible and strong. It overpowered every woman who ever bore the child, but it hasn’t mastered you.”
“Not yet.”
“Nor will it. That much I can say.”
“So I might hibernate till spring, evade Lord Bahl, and find someplace to have this child,” said Yim. “Then what?”
“Do what’s necessary.”
“Well, that’s easy advice to give,” said Yim. “It applies to every occasion.”
“But you know what’s necessary,” replied Rupeenla. “Follow your instincts. Though the child will harbor the dark spirit that made his father so feared, he’ll be your son as well. Care for him as your heart guides you, and good may result.”
[Shadowed Path 02] - Candle in the Storm Page 29