Above the Snowline (23 page)
Jant poured another beer and gave it to the Rhydanne, although I would have thought cheap spirits would suffice for her. And sure enough she drank it without savouring it and brandished the glass for more. He said, ‘No one will see a hunter if they aren’t deliberately seeking them. And anyway, they’re nomadic. Dellin hunts towards the top of the mountains in summer and moves down in winter.’
‘So she doesn’t actually
live
here? She could just return to other grounds? What’s the fuss about?’ I laughed, and motioned the butler to pour the last of the beer.
live
here? She could just return to other grounds? What’s the fuss about?’ I laughed, and motioned the butler to pour the last of the beer.
‘She said she needs the whole area. You can’t just shunt them together!’
‘Why not? I thought they ignored each other?’
‘She needs wide grounds and lots of game to survive. There are other hunters up-slope so Dellin needs this space. Rhydanne range widely but if food is hard to find and she competes with another hunter he’ll attack her.’
‘Like wolves?’
‘Not like wolves,’ Comet said levelly. ‘Like Rhydanne.’
‘I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘I wasn’t aware you were on their side.’
‘I am simply here to negotiate.’
‘The Castle always excels at remaining neutral,’ I said, and Snipe smirked.
The Messenger glared. ‘Raven, you can deal with me, or you can deal with the Emperor . . . if you really prefer.’ I said nothing and he continued, ‘Have you ever met the Emperor? Would you like to?’
‘I’m sure it won’t be necessary.’
The savage sprang up and paced hyperactively around the table. She ran up into the window seat and stood gazing at the view. Jant gave me another look, then went and joined her. ‘Come up,’ he said.
‘I’d rather not. It’s cold.’
We fell silent. I knew how obstinate immortals could be. They act as if they own any place they happen to visit. Now, to talk to him I would have to sit with the draught clinging to my legs, in sight of the fangs of Capercaillie. ‘Come on, Snipe,’ I said, and we joined them in the triple bow window. I could feel the chill radiating from the glass, so tangible I could almost push my hand against its smooth flow. Snow had caught in the corners of each pane, lying like hammocks on the leads, and frost crystals had formed here and there in minute stars or thin networks as if spun by a spider made of ice.
He tapped the glass. ‘Quite a feat, bringing up so much.’
‘Thank you. Assembling it was the hardest part.’
‘You can see everything from here.’
‘Yes, but have you noticed the window faces away from Awia?’
‘Towards the mountains?’
‘Towards the mountains. I have no option, Jant. Rhydanne may not want me in Carniss but I don’t want to be here either. If I had a choice I’d still be in Rachiswater. But I must make the best out of misfortune and do my utmost with what little I have. Do you know, Rhydanne have caused damage other than killing our livestock. They cut into our water pipes last summer. We were pumping drinking water from the glacier torrent, and my scheme was working perfectly until a Rhydanne or maybe several chopped holes in the pipes - a deliberate act of sabotage!’
‘They were probably drinking from them.’
‘As if we were providing water for their benefit!’
‘They’re used to taking whatever they can from the land. They’ll take what you leave lying about as if nature had provided it.’
‘Our property isn’t “lying about”.’
Jant picked up the book I had left on the cushion, flicked through it carelessly and splayed it face down on his thigh, cracking its spine.
I bit my teeth hard together. ‘So you agree they are causing the problem?’ I asked. ‘First, they raid our traps, eat the animals and sell the pelts. Second, they vandalise my water supply. My colonists work extremely hard but the natives cream off what they can.’
‘I’ll talk to them, don’t you worry. I’ll make sure any forays cease. But there can’t be many Rhydanne in Carniss. I think it’s strange that they could cause so much havoc. Nevertheless I will visit them and tell you what they say. Our talks might take longer than I thought . . .’ He paused. ‘Why are you looking frustrated?’
‘Oh, nothing. It doesn’t matter. I was thinking that of course we’ll provide a feast tonight, as lavish as we can manage, as befits the honour of your visit. Snipe will show you your room, upstairs.’
He shook his head. ‘No. I should stay somewhere neutral.’
‘But there isn’t anywhere else! You can’t sleep out in the drifts.’
‘Maybe down in Eyrie village?’
‘You’ll hear many tales against the Rhydanne there, I’m sure.’
Snipe ventured, ‘My lord, may I make a suggestion?’
‘Of course. Comet - Snipe, my steward, one of the many who is finding his Carniss life more rewarding than drudgery in Rachiswater.’
Snipe hesitated, frowning, then said, ‘There
is
a hostel that isn’t partial to natives or pioneers, but it isn’t the sort of place an Eszai would stay.’
is
a hostel that isn’t partial to natives or pioneers, but it isn’t the sort of place an Eszai would stay.’
‘I’m not your usual Eszai.’
‘Well . . . it’s a trading post, called the Frozen Hound Hotel.’
‘The Frozen Hound! Yes!’ Dellin burst out with a torrent of chatter so fast it’s a wonder her pinched cheeks could encompass such rapid words.
Jant listened and laughed. ‘She said she’ll show me the way. She prefers it to my staying here.’
I thought she’d used stronger terms than that. ‘If you insist. I have never been to the Hound, but my steward goes there - don’t you, Snipe?’
‘Yes, my lord. To trade with Ouzel. She only has a few rooms but she rents them to anybody.’
‘Does she trade with Rhydanne?’ Jant asked.
‘Yes, Comet. She barters their silver and furs for hardware and the food they can’t make themselves. Ouzel’s a formidable woman. Very eccentric, but what do you expect? She’s lived there for years!’
‘Dellin said the Hound is half an hour away.’
Snipe looked doubtful and wiped a drop of beer from the corner of his mouth. ‘I’d make it two or more . . . Ha! Well, it’d take us two, but yes, half an hour for a Rhydanne and even less for you, Comet. It’s a few kilometres west, on the cliffs this side of the glacier.’
‘Thank you.’ Jant nodded. He picked up
Myths and Legends of Ancient Awia
, which rested like a moth on his thigh, and glanced at the cover. ‘By Lightning Saker Micawater.’
Myths and Legends of Ancient Awia
, which rested like a moth on his thigh, and glanced at the cover. ‘By Lightning Saker Micawater.’
‘Yes, one of many,’ I said eagerly. ‘Have you read it?’
‘Huh. Life’s too short.’
‘Even for an immortal?’
‘Especially for an immortal.’
‘I read factual books too,’ I said. ‘The sort you prefer. But Snipe only salvaged five books out of the whole library before Tarmigan stopped him. See how dog-eared it is? I’ve read it so many times I’ve practically worn it out. I miss my library . . .’
‘That’s between you and your brother,’ he said abruptly, as if he had suddenly recalled the reason why I was exiled. I wanted to steer his thoughts away from Tarmigan, back to the Rhydanne, and not onto books either; any new publications Jant may enthuse about will only serve to rub salt in my wounds.
I stood up. ‘Would you like to see the settlement?’ Dellin, who had been fidgeting with her bangles as if she thought their jingling would intimidate me, bounded to her feet and down past the arras. ‘Her too. There’s half an hour before dinner. And Snipe, accompany us.’
My gloves and scarf were warming on the mantelpiece. I avoid going outside as much as possible; the grasping cold permeates every inch of my being. I wrapped myself in my overcoat, cloth-of-gold scarf, sable fur hat and fur-lined boots, which took some time, and while I did so Jant examined the huge panels of carved limewood forming the chimney breast. ‘What’s this?’ he asked suspiciously, pointing to my coat of arms in the centre. It was a large shield with no features whatsoever, topped by my prince’s coronet rather than a plain governor’s circlet, and supported by two Rachiswater eagles with their wings closed and beaks agape. But instead of holding blue roses in their free claws, with thorn branches entwining to form the mantle - as in my brother’s shield - they held wolf pelts draped into an ornate mantle around the crest.
‘It’s my coat of arms,’ I said.
‘But there’s nothing on it.’
‘I left the escutcheon above the gateway smooth as well.’
‘I noticed. What does it mean?’
‘I’m deciding what emblem to adopt,’ I said, lightly in response to his grimness. ‘Since my brother expelled me I no longer wish to use the family’s coat of arms, but I’m entitled to one. So I’ll keep those shields blank until I think of a heraldic cognisance for Carniss I can pass down the generations. A pair of frozen feet, perhaps, on a field blue with cold.’
He laughed, relieved. ‘I see, I see. Or a tankard of this excellent beer?’ He poured himself the last of it and, as he turned back to me, the edge of his wing caught a stack of letters and sent them all cascading to the floor.
‘Damn!’ He stepped back and put his mug down, but Snipe quickly knelt and scooped them all up.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said.
‘Never mind,’ said Snipe, who reached up and deposited a handful haphazardly on the table.
‘I really am sorry.’
‘It’s all right,’ I said, polite but infuriated. I collected the rest and tapped them into some semblance of the original pile. The sooner I am free from him the better. I led on and he followed, bearing his cumbersome wings at a greater distance from the table but perilously close to the fireplace. We went to the hall and I swung the door wide so he could see the empty room with folded tables resting against the walls. Two servants were up on stepladders fixing holly garlands to the beams. Then we descended to the floor below, down the spiral stairs, and Jant swept his hand along the wall, trailing his fingertips over the cold, rough stone. The blocks were neatly squared black granite, which is difficult to cut, and I could tell he was impressed.
We stopped on the landing beside a barred gate. The savage sniffed the air for some reason, but I pretended not to notice and addressed Jant. ‘This is my treasury. Like the rest of the settlement, it’s open to your view.’ I selected my largest key and unlocked the grille, then a chrome-covered key opened the inside door. I pocketed the bunch and lifted a heavy lantern from its niche.
Its light flickered on stacks and stacks of neatly folded pelts, receding into the darkness. Each pile was fastened with a cardboard tag, grading them according to species, colour and quality. Dellin cried out, ‘What have you done?’ She pushed past us and walked between the pelts, into the gloom, then turned to us and we saw tears running down her face. ‘Such waste! Such terrible waste!’
Jant snatched the lantern and went to inspect the furs. I followed him in and sat down on my chest of silver and gems, surrounded by the warm smell of fur and suede, the white tang of camphor.
The nearest were pure white wolf pelts, then subtly patched ibex skins, stacked flat like playing cards. There was chamois tan and beige, blue-white vair from squirrels, dark-chocolate zibeline from martens, and luxuriant ermine: long milky strips with black-tipped tails. There was velvety snow leopard, clouded mountain cat, the glossy sheen of mink and the silvery fluff of fox. Horns tied together in pairs hung from hooks along the walls: the black prongs of chamois, ibex knobbly and bowed, surprisingly gigantic for the size of the beast. There were smooth red deer tines and palmate elk. There was also a mound of the natives’ woven rugs, which some customers in Awia will buy, even though their retarded designs are no more than broad stripes and most have no designs at all.
The savage strode up to me and demanded, ‘How can animals replenish their numbers if you kill them all at once?’
‘Don’t be surprised if our hunting is more efficient than yours.’
‘Answer her question!’ said Jant.
‘Comet, what she said is meaningless. This is just a fraction of the tremendous plenty. There is so much game that our trapping could never make any impact, even if we hunted a thousand times more thoroughly than we do. The mountains teem with game of all kinds. We could never have any effect on their numbers, because obviously more animals will roam in from further afield to take the place of the few we harvest.’
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