74
There are disadvantages to traveling wet. You get a lot of chafing, for example. By the time I caught up with Blade I had blisters on my feet and a raw spot inside my right thigh that burned awfully. And I still had to go back the other way.
Thai Dei was no happier than I was. None of the guys tagging along were cheerful. They had to take turns carrying One-Eye. The runt’s most ambitious effort yet had been to roll onto his side to puke over the edge of his litter.
I had had a notion about sneaking on up to peek into Soulcatcher’s ravine. It was a notion that died stillborn about the time we left the road for the forest. A few hundred yards of slip sliding around in the mud and pine needles and, in the shady places, snow, on steepening hillsides, quickly convinced me that this was no day to demonstrate individual initiative.
One thing I could be sure of. Soulcatcher would be around later.
I flopped down beside Blade. “Have a good trip down?” I asked Mather. “Sorry we couldn’t reserve better weather for you.”
Blade chuckled. So did Willow Swan, who observed, “This is about as good as it gets, Cordy. We did save the best for you.”
“I knew you were my pals.”
I asked, “Where’s our boy Howler?” None of this country looked the same as it had during the night, from the air.
Swan pointed uphill, southward, toward where some tall evergreens held on to a thick clot of shadow. “Buried in some snow up there.”
The guys with me dropped One-Eye’s litter. The little wizard moaned but did not yet have enough ambition to curse or threaten anyone.
I asked, “What did you guys do to convince Lady she could let you run around loose?”
Blade chuckled. “She convinced him. By pointing out that anybody who doesn’t stay close and friendly won’t have any protection from the shadows.”
I grunted. “It’s a realization that’s going around as people begin to examine their consciences.” It was the kind of question that has led many men to select options for which they may be excoriated later, by people with full bellies sitting in front of cozy fires. “Anybody got any grease? Even anything that will pass for grease?”
My old pal Thai Dei was lugging a glob of lard. In case we had to do some cooking. Nyueng Bao never ceased to amaze. Though their religion had to be an offshoot of the Gunni, somehow they did eat meat and, unlike the Vehdna, that did include pork. The swamp did not allow them to become too picky. Thai Dei must have lugged that lard for years, using it over and over . . . No matter. Lard was exactly what I needed.
I dropped my trousers, treated the insides of my thighs to a generous spread. “This’ll keep me going for a while.”
One-Eye began thrashing on his litter, fighting his blanket and complaining about being wet. His problem was trivial. It was not raining anymore.
He threw up over the side again, hacking and gagging, then settled down to sleep.
“That looks pretty raw already,” Swan told me.
“Kiss it better,” Mather suggested.
“Some reunion. Our old pal Cordy got above himself since he’s been hobnobbing with the Woman—”
I said, “Let’s go do our wizard mining.”
Blade said, “I really don’t want to do this.”
“No shit. Me neither. Tell you what. Why don’t we let Swan and Mather get him? We’ll stay right here so somebody can get word back to camp in case anything goes wrong.”
Mather said, “This guy is definitely starting to sound like an officer. You get a couple field promotions during the campaign?”
“I’m a god.” I let Thai Dei help me up. He had not sprawled on the ground. His muscles were still loose. He started heading the direction Swan had indicated earlier.
Blade asked, “What about your pet?” He chucked a pinecone at One-Eye. One-Eye barely twitched.
“He’s got liabilities enough.” Let sleeping sorcerers lie.
One-Eye sat up. He slurred, “I heard that, Kid.” Then he collapsed again.
I said, “I think I’ll leave him here and take the other one back on the stretcher.” An idea which proved popular immediately. Not even One-Eye came out against it. He was busy snoring again.
There was no evidence that Howler had moved an inch since his fall. There was just the hole where he had gone into the snow and at its bottom, about eight feet deep, a bundle of dark rags. A light dust of loose snow had blown in on top of him.
“Hey! Lookit here!” a soldier called from maybe thirty feet away, up the slope past Howler.
“What you got?” I asked. I was not walking ten feet if I did not have to.
“Looks like a dead wolf.”
I worked my way up there. “Sumbitch, guys! He found a dead wolf.” I knelt. “Looks like it got caught by a shadow.” Evidence on the slope suggested that it had been sneaking toward Howler when bad luck got in its way. Then it had tried to run. It had not been alone, of course, but the tracks indicated a very small pack.
“I didn’t know they had wolves down here,” somebody said.
“Now you do.” The death of the wolf did not seem critical.
Except to tell us that a shadow had been around here last night and might still be hiding somewhere nearby. “Be careful if you’re anywhere that’s dark.”
I went back down to check Howler. He had not moved. Of course.
“He alive?” Swan asked.
Blade suggested, “Get a long stick and poke him.”
I said, “Let’s dig him out.”
“That smart?”
“He won’t do anything till we get him out of the hole.” I would not have in his position. Always let some other fool do the work if he insists.
The snow was old snow. Its surface had melted and refrozen numerous times. It was hard and heavy. Luckily, Howler was not really eight feet under. He had passed through eight feet of snow but that snow lay on a steep hillside and was only about four feet thick going in at the most direct angle.
I had a notion. “Don’t scatter that stuff too far. We might want to use some.”
“There ain’t exactly a shortage,” Swan grumbled.
Thai Dei, I noted, never offered to help. He stood back with his hand on his sword, alert, one eye cocked toward One-Eye. Perhaps his impulses were evil.
His vigilance proved unnecessary. As the more daring men brushed snow off Howler one of them announced, “He’s froze solid.”
A huge sigh of relief ripped through the crowd.
“Excellent!” I observed. “Here’s what we’ll do, then.”
An hour later we had the little wizard tied to a carrying pole, packed inside a layer of snow six inches thick. “Just to keep him from spoiling on the way,” I told the guys, some of whom had had to give up ragged bits of clothing to help keep the snow around Howler. They all whined and groaned and groused and wanted to know why we could not just pack him in with the other one.
They were going to break One-Eye’s heart. They did not love him anymore.