Across the Face of the World (34 page)

The Thraell was a noisy river, leaping energetically from bank to bank as it rushed towards lower lands. The Company, however, could not keep pace with it. Hal's withered leg pained him, and he and the Haufuth alternated on the aurochs' back while the others trudged wearily along beside them. Leith walked on leaden legs, and his back ached from the weight of his pack. Their food ran low, and they could not eat grass like Wisent. How much further can we go? Leith wondered.

Eventually they came to a nameless creek which descended from the left, pouring its water into the Thraell. Beyond this creek lay the fourth and last of The Brethren, and ahead Leith could make out the treeline well below where they stood. In the hazy distance the Great North Woods stretched away forever. The Thraell dropped down into the forest in a series of steep rapids and water¬falls, a narrow throat through which it had proved impossible to build a road. So the Westway turned here to the left, following the creek on its course between the lower slopes of the third and fourth Brethren.

The travellers spent a further four days stumbling up the boulder-strewn valley. They seemed consistently to be a day behind their enemies: tantalisingly close, but not close enough to set eyes on them. Each night they camped at the site of the Bhrudwans' hearth of the previous night. The weather took a turn for the worse, with first rain and then snow falling mercilessly upon them. The wind blew hard out of the east, cold and cruel. Numb fingers fumbled with cloaks and clasps. Furs were drawn close around faces and hands. Farr brought out his distinctive hat to keep his ears warm. Wira, who did not seem to feel the cold, remained hatless.

Stella's injury, sustained in the skirmish in the Valley of Respite, began to ache with the cold.

At first the pain was dull, but it grad¬ually became unbearable and she withdrew within herself. Thoughts of what awaited her on her return home drove her on up the mist-wreathed slopes, while her shoulder ached and her legs trembled with the effort of walking, head down, one foot in front of the other. The repetition numbed her mind, so that at times she couldn't remember why she walked up this valley. Tramp, tramp, tramp. She thought of the hot summer days, two years ago now, sitting in the shade under the Common Oak with her friends, chewing grass, not a care in the world, idling the hours away with inconsequential gossip. Tramp, tramp. Bustling in the kitchen, indoors on a cold northerly winter evening, warming her freezing hands by the skillet. Tramp, tramp, tramp. Waking up in the morning this last terrible summer with that familiar hollow feeling in her stomach as she realised that the weather was fine and Druin was going to come calling. Lying in bed, imagining with dread the knock at the door, the simpering of her parents, the moment when she could delay no longer and had to emerge from her room. Tramp, tramp, tramp, tramp. Held in that vice-like grip, paraded up and down in front of his friends like some new toy .. . Oh Lord Most High, why couldn't it be Wira? Ow! Stella turned her ankle on a boulder and collapsed in a heap. Strong hands from behind gently raised her up. She turned, grateful: it was Farr. She thanked him as she brushed herself off, then closed her eyes and imagined that it had been his younger brother.

Again her world narrowed down to the grey path in front of her, but not for much longer.

Suddenly she ran into the back of Leith. Everyone had stopped. She lifted her eyes.

They had reached the head of the stone'Strewn valley, a wide bowl with steep sides and a level floor. The walls were smooth, except for huge scratch marks that must have been made by some giant with a piece of flint. Rocks were heaped everywhere, like toys discarded when the sun comes out. In the middle of the bowl lay a lake filled with cloudy grey-green water, in which icebergs floated. Some distance behind the lake, at the far end of a wide boulder field, rose a wall of ice. It was the snout of Styggesbreen, the Iskeklva, famed ice river of the east.

Up, up Stella gazed, following Styggesbreen back to its source, past icefall and moraine into the cloudy distance. There the afternoon mists veiled her view; but as she watched, the clouds parted and for a moment Stella beheld great snow-covered pinnacles, peaks soaring in the air, seemingly detached from the earth: the towering bastions of the Jawbone Mountains. Then the mists swirled again and the majestic sight was hidden.

'I never thought we would come this far,' Kurr said dreamily, to no one in particular. 'Here is the heart of Firanes; here are her bones. But what has happened? I don't remember it like this!

In former times Styggesbreen filled this dakn, this bowl; he sat right up against the Westway, but now he has withdrawn up the valley and left a lake in his place.'

The Haufuth, eyes full of questions, came over to where the old farmer stood. 'What do you mean, you don't remember this? Have you been this way before?'

Startled out of his thoughts by his headman's voice, Kurr dropped his eyes. 'Actually, I have been this way once before.'

'Then why didn't you tell us?'

'I didn't think it would be of any use. It was only once, when I was a young man - more than fifty years ago. I travelled from east to west, from Plonya into Firanes. And it was in the middle of summer, so conditions were much different.'

'But you could have said something! Why keep it secret?'

'It has no bearing on our journey, I tell you!' the old man snapped. 'Don't you think I would have told you if I thought it important?'

By now the whole party had gathered around the two men.

'Yes, but - but here we are, in the middle of nowhere, no one knowing anything about what we have to face - and then we find out that you have been here before! Even if you had told us how many days it takes to travel through this accursed valley, we could have planned our rests and maybe— I don't know,' the Haufuth blustered. 'Kurr, I don't understand!'

'Some things are private,' the old man replied. 'In any case, I can't remember how long it took us to come down this valley in summer - no doubt it was much quicker than climbing up it in the middle of winter. Why the fuss? Don't you trust me?'

'No, it's not that - oh, I don't know! Maybe we've been walking too long. Perhaps it is because I feel responsible for you all, and here we are in the middle of a wasteland, hundreds of miles from home, and I feel useless. I can't protect you. I can't feed you. I can't ease your aches and pains. I can't promise you a successful end to our journey. All I can promise you is a bitter struggle, a violent death and an early grave!'

He sat down on a large boulder and rested his head in his hands.

'Perhaps you should lead the Company,' the Haufuth moaned. He looked up at the old farmer.

'You do, anyway. You know the road, you're quick to think. Take the others with you, go and rescue Mahnum and Indrett. I'll be waiting here when you return.'

Kurr sat down beside his Haufuth, waving the others away with his hand.

'Come on, now. I've known you for years. No one else could lead this group. Look at me!' he laughed harshly. 'I just have to open my mouth to offend someone. I tell you, if you wait here for us, someone will be carrying Farr Storrsen's body back to Mjolkbridge, because I won't be answerable for my actions. You got us over Alvaspan, through Windrise and the Torrelstrommen valley, over Breidhan Moor and past the Fenni. I'll be honest with you. I would have handled each of those incidents differently, and in each case I would have been proved wrong. People would have died. We started this journey because of you, we're here because of you, we will continue because of you, and Mahnum and Indrett will be rescued and Faltha warned of her peril because of you. So take heart! Remember why you became our Haufuth in the first place.'

The big man smiled wanly. 'Thank you,' he said. 'I'm glad you came on this journey. I wouldn't have come without you.'

Kurr grunted, then stood up and walked slowly away.

The travellers were forced to make camp by the grey-green lake that night. The next section of the Westway, Kurr told them, was a steep climb, then down a long slope to the mighty Kljufa River, a greater river than any they had yet seen. 'By then,' he said encouragingly, 'we should have overtaken our quarry.'

The next morning Leith awoke early, well before dawn. It was time for the final push, the great effort they would need to catch the Bhrudwans. The camp was broken with haste and the Company well on its way as the sun began to suffuse the sky with a pale pink light.

'Red sky in the morning, farmer's warning,' intoned Kurr.

From behind him Farr laughed. 'I've seen many a red morning lead into a fine, clear day.'

'No doubt,' the farmer retorted, 'but on days such as these the wise farmer keeps his stock close to shelter.'

Up out of the bowl-shaped valley they climbed. Kurr and Perdu went first, with Perdu leading Wisent, on whom the majority of the load was placed. Behind them came Leith, Hal and Stella, followed by the Haufuth. Protecting the rear were the Storrsen brothers, each brandishing his long stave. Presently the Company reached the rim of the bowl, and immediately ahead the land levelled out for a space. There they halted involuntarily, awestruck, as the glory of Firanes unfolded around them.

The mountains that had been hidden the day before were now revealed. The red dawn set fire to peak after peak, stretching unin¬terrupted across the horizon. Snow and rock alike glowed with the rising sun. Above, the sky was dark purple, merging into black; below, the foothills of the mountains were shrouded in deep blue shadow, serving only to highlight the power of the great peaks. These were the Grossbergen, the front range of the Jawbone Mountains, the most spectacular if not the highest. To the left towered Thyrtinden Massif, the Cloudpiercer with three peaks taller than any other of the Grossbergen. Directly in front of the Company, a little nearer than the others, rose the upthrust, sheer-sided pinnacle of Manimeria, a single razor-sharp peak that seemed to puncture the very sky, called Moonraker in modern rendering. And stretching away to the right were the flanks of Stravanter, the Stormbringer, its rounded dome burning with a fierce red flame. On either side of these great peaks the Jawbone Mountains marched, summit after summit soaring into the sky. On such a morning as this the First Men had first sighted these mountains and had called this land Firanes, the Cape of Fire.

Each member of the Company stood transfixed as the morning glory slowly faded from the mighty peaks, as blue and white replaced the dawn fire. Already the mists of morning gathered in the valleys, and the rightmost peak of Thyrtinden wrapped itself in a wispy scarf.

Soon the sun would suck moisture from the cold valleys and drape it on the mountaintops. It was time to be moving.

The road now turned to the southeast. Across their path lay a range of snow-capped hills, low outliers of the mountains now strung out to their left. When finally the sun rose high enough to shine on their faces, the travellers had negotiated a few boggy miles and found themselves at the feet of the hills. Ahead, just to the left of the road that wound its way up the slope, they could make out a dark vertical line.

'The Chute,' Kurr announced. 'Up there, over the horizon, is a lake. It drains out to the river over there, to the right.' He pointed to a chattering stream some distance away. 'The Westway used to run up the valley of that stream to the lake. You can still get to the lake that way, but the road is in disrepair and it takes you many miles out of your way. A long time ago there was a big earth' quake in these parts and a rockslide blocked the outlet to the lake. The water swelled to many times its original size, until finally it found the point of least resistance - the top of the notch you can see in the distance. Then, in a mighty torrent, it came pouring down this hillside and in one afternoon carved a chasm in the rock. For a while afterwards the lake outlet flowed through the Chute, but latterly it has returned to its original riverbed. Now we can walk directly up the Chute to the lake, as long as the weather is fine. When it rains, the Chute becomes an impassable torrent of water once again.'

Farr laughed. 'How old were you when they told you that one? It would have taken years to cut a notch like this, not one after¬noon!' He dissolved into laughter.

Kurr clenched and unclenched his fists helplessly. The Haufuth reached out and put a steadying hand on his shoulder. Their eyes made contact. With a supreme effort, Kurr rounded on the elder Storrsen and smiled.

'Yes, you're right,' he said, forcing laughter through unwilling teeth. 'I was a young man when I heard that tale. Still, you never know in the mountains.' The Haufuth sighed with relief and removed his hand.

'That's why you have mountain men with you,' Farr remarked.

All that day and all of the next the Company travelled, trying to go as fast as they could, but though they knew they must be close behind the Bhrudwans, they never caught sight of their quarry. The road ran mostly downwards and to the left, winding down the flanks of the hills, drawing ever closer to the mountains which remained hidden. Here the Westway was broad and travel was easy. During the afternoon of the second day Wisent picked up a stone in his hoof and had to be tended, delaying them somewhat. Now evening drew in around them.

'Should we continue into the night?' the Haufuth asked the old farmer.

'No, I don't think so. We could walk right into their camp without knowing it. A new moon and low cloud means we won't even have starlight by which to see our way.'

The road rounded the flank of a hill on their left. As the Company followed the road, a broad river came into view. At least six hundred yards from bank to bank it stretched, and although the water was low it filled its channel with ease. The water was a deep blue, and moved swiftly and with great force away to their right. Near the banks the water swirled and eddied.

'The Kljufa,' Kurr announced, 'the great river of Firanes. We follow it through the mountains, if indeed we need to go that far.'

Surely not, thought Leith. Surely it will be over soon.

They travelled only a little further that day, making their camp some distance away from the road, in a hollow in the side of a low hill. From the camp they could see the river flowing away from them, flowing on its journey out of the mountains, flowing down through the Great North Woods, passing by the vast empti' ness of the Lankangas, watering the fertile plains of southern Firanes and emptying into the Wodhaitic Sea near Derkskogen Forest and the port of Nordviken five hundred miles away to the south.