[Shadowed Path 02] - Candle in the Storm (10 page)

“It is.”

“I assume we won’t use the road to get there.”

“Our path is yours to choose,” replied Honus.

“But the easiest route to Cara’s won’t be the safest.”

“I think not.”

“Then we’ll go another way,” said Yim. “Can you get us through the mountains?”

“Yes.”

“Then find the path that’s most likely to lose our pursuer.”

When Yim and Honus finished eating, they climbed the cliff and continued their journey. Honus led, walking in a meticulous way to prevent leaving a trail. He avoided soft ground and took care not to snap sticks, tread on plants, or dislodge stones. He also chose the least likely route. That usually meant selecting the hardest one. Although daylight made it easier for Yim to mimic Honus, she lacked his long-honed skill. Moreover, fatigue and the heavy pack made her clumsy. Every time she made a misstep and crushed a plant or left a footprint, she envisioned Gatt discovering her error and hurrying after them.

Noon found Yim and Honus on the mountain they had viewed in the morning. Because its slopes were forested, they seldom had a commanding view. It usually seemed that they were walking in a wood where the stony ground tilted sharply. Yet every once in a while they encountered a stretch of bare limestone and looked out from a lofty viewpoint. Then Yim saw that the country ahead consisted of a series of mountainous ridges, their forms softened by trees. Only the most distant peaks were bare at their tops. Honus pointed into the hazy distance. “That valley belongs to Cara’s clan.”

Try as she might, Yim couldn’t distinguish the place Honus was pointing out. “Is it far?” she asked.

“If we were taking the direct path, I’d say a five-day journey.”

“But you plan to climb every mountain on the way.”

“That won’t be necessary,” said Honus, “but there’ll be hard walking.”

Yim sighed. “I thought as much.” She glanced at Honus and caught an expression of tender concern before he could hide it. She forced a smile. “We’ll have such grand tales when we greet Cara and Cronin.”

By afternoon, Honus and Yim had circumvented the mountaintop and begun the descent down its southern side. Honus seemed familiar with the terrain, for he never hesitated when choosing the route. Halfway down to the valley below, they traversed an immense field of bare rock. Yim had the impression that a giant had carved soil and trees from the mountainside as one might slice into the breast of a roasted fowl to expose a slab of white meat. Honus chose a route that crossed the center of the incline. The slope was steep, but the stone was rough and provided sure footing. They had nearly crossed the open expanse and reached a wooded slope when Yim made a disconcerting discovery.

“Honus! I’m leaving a trail!”

Honus turned and immediately spotted a line of small bloody spots on the pale rock. “How long have your feet been bleeding?”

“I don’t know,” replied Yim. “They’ve been sore awhile.”

“This is my fault!” said Honus, his voice bitter.

“Oh, so it was you who lost my sandals. I thought I kicked them off in the river.”

“I should have chosen a softer path.”

“Then we would have left prints of a different kind. Honus, there’s such a thing as fate. If it’s Karm’s will, we’ll escape.”

“Your right, Karmamatus. I should have more faith.”

“But let’s try not to leave a trail. The goddess doesn’t favor fools.”

Honus grinned. “That was Theodus’s favorite saying.”

The field of barren rock afforded a good view of the valley between the mountain and the next peak. A narrow river meandered through its center. It was so shallow that its bottom was clearly visible. Honus pointed to it. “When we reach the valley, that river will be our pathway. There we’ll needn’t worry about leaving footprints.”

When Honus started off again, Yim detected a change in his tactics. He set a more rapid pace, avoided stony ground, and chose an easy route down to the valley. As a consequence, they soon reached the valley floor and then the river. Unlike the Yorvern, it had a lazy current and was never more than knee-deep. Honus removed his sandals, entered the water, and began to wade downstream. Yim followed. The cool water and sandy riverbed felt good to her sore feet. They progressed westward for a way until they had a good view of the mountainside and the expanse of bare rock that they had traversed only a short while before. Then Honus left the river and sat amid a clump of bushes.

Yim joined him. “Why are we stopping?”

“If Gatt’s on our trail, we’ll see him when he crosses that open place above.”

“Do you think he’s following us?”

“I’m certain he’s trying. I need to know if he’s succeeding.”

Yim gazed apprehensively at the mountainside. “I don’t see him.”

“We had a long head start. Rest. I’ll keep watch.”

Yim stared at the mountainside briefly before lying down. Soon she slept.

Yim felt Honus’s hand gently shake her shoulder. She opened her eyes. It was dusk. “Look at the mountainside,” said Honus.

The field of bare rock appeared gray in the failing light. At first, Yim saw nothing. Then a dark speck caught her eye. It resembled a spider scrambling across a rock. Her heart sank. “Gatt!”

“We’ll wait until he enters the forest,” said Honus. “Then we’ll head downstream. We’ll be safe, Yim. Even a Sarf can’t follow a trail at night.”

“Yes. We’ll be safe,” said Yim in the desperate hope that uttering those words would make them true.

ELEVEN

YIM AND
Honus waded downstream as quickly as they could. There was no need to proceed cautiously; the current would erase any trace of their passage. They progressed this way until the moon rose. Then Honus began looking for side streams. When he found one that seemed suitable, he began to walk up it. Yim followed, trying her best to leave no trail. After a while, the ground began to rise. Soon they were climbing the slope of another mountain and Honus abandoned the stream as a path. “There’s no point in trying to hide our trail from here on,” said Honus. “Our best hope is that Gatt won’t spot where we left the river.”

The two climbed awhile longer, then stopped for the night at a pile of boulders at the base of a cliff. Yim and Honus nestled between two massive blocks of stone and had their first meal since morning. It was what Honus called “battle porridge,” uncooked grain and water. After they ate their gritty meal, they slept huddled together.

The next morning they rose at first light, and Honus led
 the way up the mountain and down into the adjacent valley. It was heavily wooded. When Honus encountered a wide brook, it became their pathway. Yim had no idea if it headed toward Cara’s lands. By that point, she didn’t care, for she was far more concerned with escaping Gatt. When they camped that night, dining again on battle porridge, she prayed that they had succeeded.

When the sun rose, Yim and Honus moved onward without pausing to eat. Throughout the morning they continued wading in the brook, which gradually widened and deepened until the water often reached Yim’s calves. As the brook increased in size, the mountain to the north that formed one of the valley’s walls diminished in height until it was no more that a chain of low hills. Around noon, the hills ended at the conjunction of the brook and a river. “Is that the river from the first valley?” asked Yim.

“Yes,” said Honus, “and beyond this point it heads for the Yorvern. We’ll leave it to turn west and slightly northward.” He gave Yim a concerned look. “The way will be rugged.”

“That’s not a problem,” replied Yim. “My feet are better.”

The land between the two waterways ended in a narrow point that appeared to have been scoured by recent floods. Most of its vegetation had been swept away and only a few scruffy bushes remained. Those grew amid piles of boulders and tangled driftwood. As Yim and Honus neared the point, a blue-faced man rose from the debris. Honus whipped out his sword. “Run, Yim!”

“Where?”

“Back to the campsite. I’ll fight him off and join you there.”

“Honus …”

“Run! Run now!”

Yim saw Gatt splashing through the shallow water and felt a wave of panic. She dashed off. By the time she reached the bank, she heard the clang of swords and turned to see the two Sarfs fighting in knee-deep water. It seemed to her
 that both fought with less grace and more ferocity than before. Honus gripped his sword hilt with both hands and hewed at Gatt as if he were trying to fell a tree. Gatt attacked with equal energy. The savage desperation of the struggle made it unbearable to watch. Yim turned her eyes from the sight and fled along the bank, heedless of the trail she made.
 
All our care was pointless 
, she thought, wondering how Gatt had found them. She considered abandoning the pack, but it contained all their food, clothes, and essential gear.
 
Speed won’t save me. Only Honus’s sword will do that 
.

When Yim realized the futility of flight, she slowed to a walk. She didn’t even know if she could find the campsite again or where to go if Honus didn’t join her. Nevertheless, she continued walking, for she was too anxious to remain still. Yim was considering returning to see how the fight had turned out when she heard the sound of someone running through the woods. Yim halted and waited to learn her fate. It felt like she waited for a long time. At last, someone came into view. It was Honus. As he rushed toward her, Yim noticed that his left hand was bloody.

“You’re wounded!”

“Just a nick,” said Honus. He reached Yim but didn’t halt or even slow his pace. “Follow me. Hurry!”

Yim sped after him. Though she feared that she already knew the answer, she asked anyway. “What of Gatt?”

“He retreated.”

So it’s not over 
, thought Yim. Honus’s reckless pace and brusque manner were out of character, and it worried her. Moreover, he exercised none of his customary care as he moved among the trees and climbed a rise close to the brook. When he reached a clearing, he halted. “Take off the pack.”

Yim slipped it off, and Honus opened it to rummage through its contents. He removed his chain-mail shirt and set it on the ground. At first, Yim thought that he planned to don it in preparation for another battle, but then Honus also removed all his clothing from the pack.

“Honus, what are you doing?”

“Making the pack lighter.” Honus grabbed a small stick and squatted over a bare patch of ground. “Come. I must show you this.”

As Yim watched, Honus sketched shapes in the dirt. It took a moment for her to realize that the shapes were mountains and he was drawing a map. She was about to ask him why when she glanced at his left hand again. It hung limply and had taken on a grayish hue. Yim peered into Honus’s eyes. “You’re dying.” There was no uncertainty in her voice, only grief and fear.

“My wound is poisoned,” replied Honus. “I have but little time.”

“So that’s why Gatt retreated,” said Yim. “To wait for you to die.”

“I don’t think he’ll come after you until he’s certain I’m dead. That delay and this map will be my last services to you. I pray to Karm they’ll provide you safety.”

“Honus, I can’t…”

“You must try, Karmamatus!
 
Please 
, you must!”

Yim gazed into Honus’s moist eyes and saw that he didn’t fear his death, only hers. “Of course I will,” she said for Honus’s benefit. “Tell me what to do.”

Using his crude map, Honus showed Yim a route to Cara’s. It involved backtracking to deceive Gatt. “Proceed slowly, so you leave no trail,” Honus said. “Stealth may save you, but not speed. You can’t outrun a Sarf any more than you can outfight him.” He grasped Yim’s hand with his right one. Its grip was weak and the fingers were cold. “Fly, Karmamatus. I’ll die in peace if I know you’re heading for safety.”

Yim softly stroked Honus’s cheek. Then, after a moment’s hesitation, she kissed him. Yim had never kissed anyone before, and when her lips pressed Honus’s, she felt uncertain what to do next. For a long, awkward moment, she remained virtually still. Then she pulled back. Honus gazed at her sadly,
 as if he were already missing her. Yim’s vision blurred with tears. “Thank you, Honus.”

“Go. Don’t waste time.”