The change in her breathing told him that the girl was awake, though she kept her body limp so that it lolled with the ground-covering gait of the ride-beast.

Her feigning would have fooled most others. It only impressed Felin Kathak.

Much about this Idasha impressed him. Her striking beauty, to be sure ... but more than that, she'd fought with the strength and fearlessness of a she-wolf. His mount held one foreleg gingerly thanks to her.

The Westreach sharp-pick she'd driven into its side had gone so far through the layers of saddle-leather that it would be stuck there still had not the increasing complaints of the ride-beast prompted Felin to dismount and investigate. The razored tip of the weapon had worked its way through to dig at the beast's hide, scratching a furrow in the scales.

Idasha remained motionless, but he could read the lines of tension in her neck and shoulders. His knee still smarted from where she'd bitten him, and his chest and stomach throbbed from her punches.

Yes, a handful of a female indeed. Most impressive.

Her arms shifted, a subtle movement that could have been mistaken for one caused by the jouncing of their steed, but Felin wasn't fooled by that either.

"The cords are twenty-weight twine," he said conversationally. "The knots are the same used by the hunters of Kathan to snare wild great-wolves."

She did not reply, or give any sign that she'd heard.

"And if you're wondering where we are," he continued, "we're some twenty miles north of Hothar Castle, in the region the locals refer to as Middenwood. Several years ago, it was first swept by forest fire and then flooded out. The flood changed the course of a river, leaving a village and a mill abandoned. That is where we're bound, where my men are awaiting us."

"If I wished a guided tour of northern Hothar, I'd have chosen a different mode of transportation," she muttered. "And a different guide."

Felin laughed. "Your voice is as tough as the rest of you, I see. All bronze and leather and blackmetal. I'd offer to let you ride upright, but I suspect you'd try and unseat me, or strangle me with the very bindings I myself affixed 'round your wrists."

The wood closed about them, scrubby stands of trees and tangles of bushes. The ride-beast wove its way through them to find a clear path, tireless long legs clearing the low growth and fallen logs effortlessly.

"You'd be right," Idasha admitted.

"It's good to be taking action again," Felin said. "I was weary of waiting and hiding. Weary already, when I'd planned to wait out the whole winter. You changed my plans, Idasha, and I'm grateful."

"Quite a trick, when I don't even know who you are or why you've seized me."

"I am Felin Kathak."

"Alive after all."

"That's right."

"Good for you."

"As for why I've seized you, there will be time for explanations later. The mill is just ahead."

He urged the ride-beast on, and soon the ruins of the village came into view. Not much was left but for some roofless stone walls, home now only to small wildlife that scattered in terror when they caught the scent of the large, monstrous reptile.

The mill stood beside the sunken trench of the old riverbed. Its walls were still mostly intact but the huge wooden wheel had rotted away and collapsed in chunks to the silty mud below.

As they approached, Belorva came out to meet them. He looked like a rugged hermit, with his unkempt hair and beard and his shabby clothes, but his bearing was that of a soldier for all that his only weapons were a knife and a stout length of wood, and that his left arm ended just above the elbow.

"Welcome back, Commander," he said. "Edaran and Cooky had you spotted a half-mile out."

"How is Cooky progressing with that bow?" Felin asked, reining in the snarling ride-beast before it could lunge at Belorva.

"Edaran despairs, but that's more because he itches to just grab it away and do it right, and knowing he can't makes him livid." Belorva looked appraisingly at what he could see of Idasha. "Good hunting, I take it?"

"Fairly good." Felin dismounted, still holding tight to the reins. "Bring her inside while I find a place to tether this fellow, but be mindful. She's a regular she-wolf."

"Har ... just how the Red Wolf should like them! Have you established an order of turns yet?" Belorva reached for Idasha.

With ankles bound, she drove her heels into his face. Belorva reeled and fell. The ride-beast went for the downed man, ripping the reins out of Felin's hands. If not for his gloves, the skin would have been seared from his palms.

"No! Leave off!" Felin clouted the beast on the head.

Idasha threw herself headfirst from its back, tucked and rolled, and landed on her shoulder. While Felin was wrestling with the ride-beast and Belorva was cursing and trying to avoid its snapping jaws, she pulled a tiny hidden knife from the buckle of her belt and bent to saw at the cords wrapping her ankles.

Tunok rushed from the mill holding a woodcutter's axe high above his head. Urdevik appeared behind him, his head no longer bandaged but his expression muddled and confused.

"The girl, stop the girl!" Felin yelled.

Belorva howled as the ride-beast's front claws skidded along his defensively-upraised forearm. The splash of blood further excited and enraged the beast.

An arrow impaled itself in the ground less than six inches from Idasha. She glanced at it, startled, but kept sawing vigorously.

"Don't hurt her, a pox on you!" Felin yanked on the ride-beast's bridle. It first swung its heavy head at him, then wheeled to strike him with its tail. Buffeted bruisingly back and forth, he stumbled and went to one knee.

Tunok was a short, thickset man. When he charged at the girl, he did so with all the ground-shaking gracelessness of an ox.

Seeing him coming, Idasha flung herself to the side, snatched up the arrow in still-bound hands, and thrust it at him just as he attempted to pick her up. The arrowhead missed his eye and laid his cheek open.

Belorva screamed like a woman as the ride-beast latched onto his side. Swearing, Felin drew his sword and plunged it deep into the berserk creature's ribs.

That only brought its full attention instantly from Belorva to him. He parried its claws, briefly but fervently thankful that it only had the use of one forelimb, and ducked a vicious bite.

Another arrow embedded itself in the fatty pad at the base of the ride-beast's tail. It spun to face this new threat. While it was distracted, Felin leap-scrambled onto its back and tugged hard on the reins.

Belorva had gotten out of the way, and with no one immediately present to attack, the ride-beast settled to a growling, prancing unrest.

Felin spared a look around, and could scarce believe his eyes when he saw Tunok measuring his height facedown.

"Where is the girl?!?"

Nerrar's voice burst agonizingly into his mind. Toward the woods ... Findersniff is on her!

He urged the ride-beast about and spurred it on. Its loping strides were slowed, and he heard the patter of its blood raining on the earth from the wound he'd inflicted.

But there she was, fleet-footed Idasha, hands still tied before her. She'd freed her legs, and was headed for the densest part of the forest where the ride-beast could not follow. She didn't see, as Felin did, the furry shape streaking along the branches over her.

Findersniff jumped, his full weight hitting Idasha in the shoulderblades. He clung to her as she fell, but when she landed the jolt flipped him over her head. They ended up nose to nose, woman and rat.

Her bound hands shot out and caught Findersniff by the throat.

Stop her! Nerrar thundered in Felin's mind. Stop the viper-sow; she's killing him!

Felin vaulted from the faltering ride-beast and covered the rest of the distance on foot. The laboring beast uttered a gasping wheeze and collapsed, sides bellowsing weakly.

Idasha heard him coming and convulsed her body around so that her momentum hurled Findersniff at him. He came too close to slicing the rat out of the air, earning a disbelieving and nigh skull-splitting blast of outrage from Nerrar.

"Enough," he said, leveling the blade at her as she came to her knees.

She tossed her tangled, leaf-stuck mass of hair out of her face. Her eyes were a stormy sea, her jaw iron-hard.

"Enough, woman," Felin said again. "It is done."

"Not while both of us live."

"My aim is not to kill you."

"That's all you'll get from me."

He sheathed his sword as Cooky and Edaran forced their way through the brush. Cooky had his bow, an arrow trained on Idasha. Even Urdevik appeared, uncertainly holding a clublike stick.

"Your courage is commendable, your will astonishing, but you have lost." He pulled her up by the wrists, mindful lest she come at him kicking or biting.

The truth of his words and the bleakness of her situation seemed to have sunk in; she made no such reckless action. Nor did she speak, though he knew that her thoughts must be abuzz.

They led her, well-guarded, back to the mill. Shentha had come out to tend Belorva, whose right side was scarlet from armpit to knee. Tunok had heaved himself over onto his back and was groaning as he rubbed an egg-sized knot on his temple.

Nerrar glowered impatiently from the door of the mill, Whiskertwitch and Quickbite beside him and Curdnibbler, who must have evacuated the ride-beast's saddlepack at some point during the hectic proceedings, in the crook of his elbow. Findersniff, making hacking sounds, tottered to join them.

I was wrong ... she's too dangerous. Best to finish her now.

"No," Felin said. Idasha looked at him in surprise but the rest were by now accustomed to their leader's one-ended conversations. "She is strong and spirited."

"We can break that from her," Edaran suggested, running his gaze over the girl.

"Order of turns," Belorva said through clenched jaw. Shentha had gotten his ruined clothes off, and he had a double row of freely-bleeding tooth marks in two semi-circles, one on his abdomen and one on his back. "I should be second after Felin, for what she did. This is her fault! Her doing!"

"And Tunok next, then?" Edaran smirked at Nerrar. "What about your rat, then, Rat-Master? Or will you take his place?"

"If this is Nerrar," scoffed Idasha, "by the gossip of Hothar's chambermaids, I'd have had little to fear from him in that regard ... even before King Jherion had out his stones and held them before him in a gauntleted fist."

Nerrar went dead-white. He fixed his eyes on Idasha.

Felin felt the air change the way it did when Nerrar 'spoke.' Idasha's legs buckled and she clapped her bound hands to her head as well as she was able, moaning.

"Nerrar, stop before you damage her!"

Although she was ashen with the effects, Idasha managed a weak chuckle. "No, ratling, I do not lie ... I had the truth of it from Jherion himself. Shall I tell them what else he did to you?"

Edaran looked at Nerrar with a sneering, pitying scorn. "Wellnow, don't fret it ... I'll take your turn as well as mine if you want."

"No turns," Felin said sharply. "There will be none of that."

"The she-wolf has hurt us!" Belorva protested. "We demand compensation-price!"

"I say you, no. She is of royal blood, and she has fought better than many men I've known. Yes, she is our prisoner, but no, she is not our prize."

That's your game, is it? Nerrar asked hotly. Keep the wench for yourself? Go to it if you dare, but when she gets done with you, you'll be worse off than I!

"And you call yourself Kathani?" Edaran grumbled.

Felin slowly turned to him. "I am Kathani, but that does not make me cruel. I was a boy, page to my father Avar, when my uncle Oldered led his army to take Hothar. I saw, and I remember, the fate of the ladies in that castle. It was an ugliness I wish to never see again, and I will not see it here in my own camp. Whoso disagrees can discuss it with me, letting steel be our speech."

His eyes moved from one man to the next, and one by one they dropped theirs first.

"Cooky ... there are several hundred pounds of ride-beast awaiting your cleaver," Felin said. "We'll eat well tonight. Edaran -- sentry. I did my best to leave no trail for the hounds, but we'll take no chances. Urdevik ... you look well, how do you fare?"

Urdevik looked blankly at him, then gave a sudden twitch. "G'day, Commander."

"He's better, sir, but n'well," Shentha murmured. "The spirit-man did as you wanted and mended his hurts, but ever since he's still been not right."

I did what I could, Nerrar bespoke peevishly. A man's brain is more difficult to affect than a rat's, the wounds had been inflicted weeks before, and he's hardly any Kathani blood in him to help him bear the touch of my mind.

"All the same, thank you, Nerrar. We'll need every loyal man we can get. See to Belorva; he is half-Kathani at least." Felin glanced at Idasha, who had been standing quietly since her barbed taunts of Nerrar. "This way, princess. For all of our safety, I mean to chain you to the millstone."

Idasha sat awake in the darkness, knees drawn up and arms locked around them. Her only binding now was the chain that ran from her ankle to the millstone, where it looped through the hole at the center.

She gave some passing thought to wondering why the villagers, in abandoning their homes and mill, hadn't taken the stone with them. Surely it was of value, being carefully shaped to just the right roundness. But it was heavy, as she well knew. So heavy that two men could not have carried it, and maybe they'd needed their pack-beasts and wagons for more life-sustaining goods.

Nearby, around the banked coals of a fire, her band of captors slept off the gluttony of their feast. The one called Cooky had butchered the dead ride-beast and they had gorged on its pale meat as if they'd not had a proper meal in weeks.

She had eaten as well, knowing there was nothing to be gained by refusing. Better to keep her strength up, her health fit, so that she might make good on her next chance at escape. The flavor was rich and not unfamiliar, reminding her of the special dish served each year in honor of the day the first king of Westreach had slain the Black Snake.

During the meal, she had listened in silence to their conversation and now understood that they had come here from the city, raiding a few farmhouses along the way to supply themselves. Then, as the rest remained hidden out in the mill, Felin Kathak had gone back with only the small brown rat for company -- the same rat, Idasha realized, that she and Alkath had seen in the loft only a short time before she'd been captured.

She also understood that from here, they meant to continue north, through the great pine forests and over the mountains, to cold Kathan itself. Taking her with them.

What she didn't understand was why.

Belorva glanced sullenly at her as he left his post to wake the next man on watch. He moved with slow care, slightly bent over to favor his wounded side. But that he should be up and walking at all was a miracle.

Idasha still could scarcely credit what she had witnessed with her own eyes. Had she not felt for herself the bludgeoning invasive force of Nerrar's mind, she never would have believed it. He had somehow gone into Belorva, and bade the man's body knit up its own rent tissues.

Add to that Nerrar's control of the rats, and it was a frightening prospect. True magic ... true power ... in the hands of a crazed and evil youth.

Felin rose at a word from Belorva to take his own turn on watch. He bundled himself in a woolly pack-beast hide as he left the fire, taking position at the window that overlooked the hillside approach to the mill.

He was just a few paces beyond the furthest reach of her chain, which was long enough to let her go behind a wooden screen they'd put up to allow her some privacy.

"Are you warm enough?" he asked, low so as not to disturb the others.

She had been given a similar hide, and tucked it more tightly around her shoulders without answering.

"You may speak, you know," he said with a half-smile. When she still gave no response, he left the window and hunkered down near her. "Very well, then I shall. You must be filled with worries and concerns. I know I would be, in your place. But too stoic to voice them. Admirable. Though needless. I would think no less of you for asking."

Idasha only looked at him. With his eyes glinting in the dim light, his hair tousled from sleep, and a shadow on his chin, he had a dark and dangerous aspect about him for all his tone was not unkind.

"I tell you this ... no one here will hurt you, unless you drive them to self-defense. You're much more important to us alive and well. It is a long journey to Kathan, and I'd prefer not to have you led the entire way in chains. If there is any means by which I can earn a promise from you that you'll neither seek to run or harm my men, I'd like to know of it."

"What would you do, in my place?" she said bitterly.

Felin grinned ruefully. "Probably be a stubborn and ill-tempered prisoner myself. We've that in common."

"Then you'll see why I can make so promises of good conduct. I do not know why you've done this, but I don't mean to make it any easier for you."

"Don't you?"

"No. If you sought ransom or to strike at the king, there are others of far more value than myself. If you wanted vengeance, you had opportunities for that --"

"Yes, your lover killed my father; that makes us practically family."

"And yet Alkath was right there; you could have fought him. To carry me away because I have been his bedmate ... that does not seem the choice of the sort of man you are."

"Agreed," he said. "Were I more like Nerrar, that might well have been my aim, but I am not. The time will come when I will face Alkath Halan, and my abduction of you is likely to hasten that day, but such was not my intent."

"Hence my confusion. It makes no sense to keep me as your prisoner."

"So it is true," Felin mused, looking oddly at her. "You do not know. You do not know who you are."

"I know who I am," she said firmly. "If you think to enlighten me with the news that I am sister-in-raising-only to the king of Westreach, this is nothing I've not been aware of for my entire life."

"Idasha ... sooner or later you must be told, and it's best you hear it now. The woman you call Mother has lied to you. Lied to you since the very day you were born."

She drew her head back and regarded him suspiciously.

"I come by this knowledge through Nerrar, which may make it of dubious worth to you ... but he has it through the ears of his rat spies from the very lips of Queen Chian herself. She confessed all to Magician Ephes and his wife, two nights before the coronation."

"Even if I am her daughter by birth --"

"No." He leaned forward and looked forthrightly into her eyes. "You are the Lendrin heir. 'Twas Jherion born to the chambermaid, and you to the princess Meryve."

"That ... cannot be."

"Meryve was certain she would bear a son who would grow to take back Hothar, and went mad when her child was a girl. You, Idasha. So the queen, fearing for your life, switched the babes. She gave Meryve the orphaned commonborn boy. Jherion."

Idasha shook her head. "She would not. This is some trickery of yours --"

"Why would I spin you such a lie?"

She cast about fervently but could think of no good reason, leaving her with only the terrible conclusion that he was in earnest.

He saw it in her face, and nodded.

"That means Jherion ..."

"Jherion is a pretender-king," Felin said. "Though only a handful of people in all Ilgrath know it yet. When the truth is made plain, he will be driven out in shame. Those who brought him to power will be suspect, although they did it unawares. The people shall lose trust, and Hothar will be kingless."

"And with the true heir --" she nearly choked on the words, "-- out of the way, the path is clear for another Kathani invasion. That is why you've done this. That is why you mean to bring me to Kathan, where I can be executed or locked away forever, while you take Hothar."

"There is another option. You and I both have claim to the throne. A marriage --"

Idasha shot to her feet in a jangle-clank of chain. "Marriage!"

He stood as well. "Better than execution or imprisonment."

"Opinions may be divided. I have spent years being openly thankful that I was not a princess by blood, and thus free from being bartered off for title and dynasty!"

"But you are."

Their raised voices had alerted all but Shentha and Urdevik. Idasha burned with rage under amused and snide eyes.

Felin smiled wryly. "Think on it, Idasha. As I said, it is a long journey to Kathan."

"Alkath! The spirit-talker was right!" Seric of Westreach called. "Stagnant water, fallen stone, blood of a beast, all of it! His every prediction, come to pass!"

"Where?" Alkath raced toward him, beating low-hanging branches out of his way.

"There ... look! On the hill beyond what's left of that village, the mill! And one of my men found the remains of a ride-beast, by the pebbling of its hide the same one stolen from the stables!"

"And Idasha?"

"My sister was here, I am sure of it. Look." He showed Alkath several strands of hair that gleamed with their own brightness despite the leaden-clouded day. "This is what I surmise -- the rider had Idasha bound, and brought her here where they met up with some others. But there was a struggle, which must have been her seeking to escape. We found an arrowhead stuck in the earth, pieces of cut cord. The ride-beast must have been injured, forcing them to slay it; after, they cooked and ate of it. There are fresh scrapes on the millstone, which tells me Idasha was chained there."

"But they are gone now ... where? How long ago?"

"They would not have risked staying here long. Mayhap they left as early as the next morning. The ashes from their fire are dead-cold."

Alkath reached the door of the mill and went inside. Seric's men, some of the best hunters and trackers Westreach had to offer, were slowly fanning out from the building. The Hotharan group followed alertly, but behind so as not to tread over any tracks or clues.

"So we're still ten days behind them?" he asked, agonized. "Tell me she's all right, Seric!"

Seric squeezed his shoulder. "I would if I knew, friend Alkath! We will find her. If we have to search all of Ilgrath, we will find her."

"Stragest!" One of the Westreacher men hurried over. "You said to mention anything?"

"Yes, Carum. What have you found?"

"I recall there being some talk in the city about rats --"

"What of rats?" Alkath whirled from the millstone, where he'd been running his fingers over the scrapes and trying to imagine his dear Idasha bound there, frightened and alone.

"Droppings, sir, but only a few."

"The rats ... Nerrar is among them!"

"But it was not him who stole her away," Seric said.

"No. That man was a warrior. And familiar. I feel I should have recognized him!" He slammed his fist into his other hand in anguish. "Somehow, he and Nerrar and who knows how many others are in this together. But why? Why Idasha, Seric? Forgive me, but --"

"If kidnapping for ransom was their aim, your sister Olinne would have been a better target than mine," Seric finished. "I share your puzzlement, believe me!"

Another Westreacher came in. "My lord Stragest, my lord High Commander, we've found their trail. They took pains to conceal it, but Idasha left us a marker." He held up a tuft of fur. "This is from a kammis bear, which are not found in Hothar."

"She wore a vest trimmed with such fur," Alkath said, plucking it from the man's hand and trying not to reveal that he was miffed by the casual manner this tracker saw fit to use her untitled name.

"It was caught in the bark of a tree, as if she'd purposefully stumbled against it. With that, we were able to find their covered trail."

"Well done, Eyran!" Seric said. "How many of them?"

"More than seven, less than ten, is all I can say you now. Unarmored, and possibly with wounded among them. Their tracks were northerly-bound."

"We shall follow," Alkath declared. "I will send a runner back to the city to inform the king."

"If we're to follow," Eyran said, "we'd best be quick, for the snow will do a better job of hiding their trail than they did."

"Snow?" scoffed Alkath. "It's still far too early for snow."

Idasha blew into her hands and rubbed them together. They were turning from white to red, and tingling as if her skin was being pricked by a thousand tiny thorns. "It's very trusting of you to let me so close to the fire," she said to Felin. "Aren't you worried I might grab up a blazing bough to strike you?"

"No," he said frankly. "You're not so foolish. If you slew me, you'd have the rest to deal with, and they are far less mannerly than I."

Of 'the rest,' only Shentha and Nerrar were near enough to hear that, and Nerrar was sleeping the deep sleep of utter exhaustion though they'd stopped for the day less than an hour before. The rats were snuggled around him in the folds of his blanket. Tunok was on watch just outside the cave, and the other four were gathering wood and seeing what foodstuffs could be found on the frozen mountainside.

Shentha just bobbed her grey head in agreement. "The Red Wolf, he never 'llowed the pillage and debaucheries what his father and uncle did. Was a point of contention when he took the mantle, it was. Men howling that they were being denied their soldierly rights. Why, there were some as feared he'd even send the camp-girls packing."

"I could deal with the rest, mannerly or not," Idasha said.

Felin offered her a chunk of dried ride-beast. "Possibly you could. But what then, she-wolf? Woods-wise and tough as you are, even you wouldn't be able to make it back to Hothar on your own."

She glared at him, but took the piece of meat and tore at its leathery texture with her teeth. "You've been taking the easiest route, what with an old woman and crippled or injured men to lead. I could manage."

"If you believed that, you'd have tried 'ere now. The snows of the north are not like what you see in Westreach. The mountains here are harsher."

The wind howled and blew a skirl of snow in the mouth of the cave just then, as if to prove his point.

Shentha cackled. "Send away the camp-girls? Why, then, who'd be to keep the men warm on those bitter-cold nights in Dolga? We'd bundle three or four to a tent sometimes for the heat. Ah ... I remember that ... you should have seen me, that you should, when I still had my prettiness! I had the High Commander's own attentions, so I did! And I was lovely as a spring morn, hair like sunshine all down to my hips ... oh, Avar ..."

Felin looked askance at her, then tapped his temple. "My father never kept the company of camp-girls."

Idasha raised an eyebrow and said nothing.

"Although ..." Felin mused, resting his chin on his fist, "there's something to be said for bundling together for warmth."

"Like father like son, then." She jerked her head toward Shentha. "Sleep well, High Commander."

"Not what I was thinking."

"I know what you were thinking."

"And is it such a horrible thought?"

"You're my enemy."

"I'd like not to be."

"And some would like the world-belt to be made of diamonds."

He smiled, then sobered. "Is it Halan?"

"What?"

"Alkath Halan. Are you sworn to him?"

"I'm sworn to no one. I am my own."

"Because he's not the man for you."

Idasha rolled her eyes in disgust. "My hands are warm enough. I'll leave you to your fire."

"He isn't," Felin said as she retreated to the spot where they'd placed her blanket. "I knew him when he was a squire and I doubt he's grown up much since. He may claim to like your willful spirit and warrior-woman ways, but deep down he'll always be seeking to mold you into a proper lady."

She turned on her side and pulled the blanket with her, folding herself up in it.

"You may think you fight side by side, but he'll always try to put himself before you to protect you, never really believing in his heart that you can fend for yourself ... probably far better than him."

"You do dote on the sound of your own voice, don't you?" she asked scathingly.

"I'm saying what your soul tells itself, but you try not to hear." He moved to crouch beside her, pitching his words low but carrying. "Whereas I, Idasha ... am coming to love you for who you are."

An unbidden tremor quavered through her, but she clenched her hands into fists so tight that her nails nearly drew blood. She turned just enough to look at him, the mismatch of dyed-black hair and the foxbrush-red beard he no longer bothered to shave, the eyes dark as the pine forest through which they'd traveled.

Measuring scorn by the cupful, she replied, "Sweet seduction-talk will work no better than the threat of execution as ploys to wed me, Felin Kathak."

"No ploy, Idasha. I mean what I say. I admire you, your courage and your strength, your defiance and your determination." He extended a hand as if to touch her shoulder, but stopped while it was yet several inches away. He brought it back to himself with a rueful laugh.

"Not that you're apt to believe me."

"She's in such danger, Seric, I know she is."

"Alkath ... sleep. We can't go on tonight."

"Sleep? It eludes me, or fills me with dreams of him! We matched blades, we met eyes ... I have seen him before, I'm sure of it!"

Carum cleared his throat. "There's no good time to say something like this ... but with the weather worsening, we may have to turn back."

"Turn back?" Alkath sat up fast, nearly rapping his head on the pole supporting the small tent. "And leave Idasha to her fate? We have a duty --"

"To lead men to their freezing deaths in these mountains?"

"Carum!" Seric said sharply. "Idasha is my sister, and Alkath's lover. We must do all possible to see her safely back to us."

"But this heads beyond the possible! The snow has already made it so that we can't be certain we're on the right trail."

"I cannot forsake her, Seric!" Alkath said fervently. "I have to save her!"

"We will not forsake her."

"Then we will all die out here," Carum said.

Alkath deliberately set his back to the doomsaying Westreacher and closed his eyes. Over and over again, his mind re-saw the fateful events of that morning. If only he'd been a touch quicker! If only the rest of the ride-beasts hadn't been so stirred up by the incident! It had taken so long to settle them down that the rider was long gone by the time anyone else was able to begin a pursuit.

He could still see Idasha as his last glimpse of her had been. Unconscious, head lolling, slung over the front of the rider's saddle like a sack of grain, limbs dangling.

Idasha ... fair Idasha ... where was she now? Alkath was sundered with anguish at the thought of what might have been done to her. A man such as that rider, a dishonorable creature who would abduct a lady in that fashion ... his purpose could only be the most atrocious!

Overtaxed and emotionally wrought by the strain of the past several days, Alkath felt himself inexorably sliding toward sleep. The face of the rider filled his sight, lips twisted in a pitiless sneer, eyes as savage as those of an animal ...

An animal ... Alkath's drifting mind latched onto that idea, and in his half-dreaming state the rider began to change like a fright-monster from a children's tale. Jaw elongating into a muzzle, thick hair sprouting, only those eyes unchanging ... until the eyes were set in the visage of a wolf that Alkath's dreaming had for some reason covered in a pelt redder than the sunset.

Red ... the red wolf ...

"The Red Wolf!" he shouted, bolting upright.

This time he did rap his head, hard enough to see stars and bring the tent collapsing atop himself, Seric, and Carum. Curses and cries of alarm rang throughout their small camp as everyone woke and came rushing to see what was the matter.

Alkath fought his way free, and moments later Seric joined him.

"What is it? Alkath, what?"

"I know who he is," Alkath said. "Felin Kathak. He lives, and he took Idasha."

"A cub of Kathan has returned to the den!" the king announced. "Give welcome to your kinsman, my brother's son, who has come home to us!"

Lusty cheers rocked the hall, the voices of men and women mingled with the eerie full-throated howl of great-wolves. The hilts of eating knives were hammered on tabletops, rattling crockery.

Idasha stood tall, chin raised, vowing not to show a single sign of nervousness. Her hands were bound before her in leather straps woven with fine chain so that she could not have cut through them with anything smaller than an axe, but she was otherwise unfettered.

Felin approached the throne, which was a massive construction of peeled logs piled high with furs. He went to one knee and pressed his closed fist to his forehead in homage to the man seated there.

"Uncle, mighty king, it warms me to be home."

The king was the oldest living being Idasha had ever seen. He was so thin that his back seemed likely to break beneath the weight of his wolfskin mantle, held in place by a chain of thick gold. His skin was brittle parchment, his hair a cloud of frost beneath a crown that sparkled with barbarically large jewels. A similarly frosty beard flowed over his chest like an apron.

Only his eyes were vibrant, being a brilliant emerald green undimmed by age or mental infirmity. When they came to rest on Idasha, she felt their cold weight and was glad when they moved on to inspect Nerrar, Tunok, and Belorva.

The castle of the Kathani king was not what she'd been expecting. Rather than stones, it was a fortress of logs, each taken entire from the vast pine forests and coated with a fireproofing sap. The outer wall was octagonal, topped with platforms for archers. Within the courtyard were several long, low wooden buildings around another octagonal structure -- the great hall. It was topped by a tower of crisscrossed and notched logs.

The great hall was thrice the size of Westreach's, twice the size of Hothar's. The floor was inches deep in rushes mixed with evergreen needles, so that every step crushed and released a rich piney scent.

Instead of separate fire-pits, a long and deep fire-trench ran the length of the room. The sides of it were walled in brick, blackened with soot. It was spanned by four wide bridges of sap-sealed planks.

The twenty or more tables were all round, each one a slice from an enormous log. They were low to the floor so that the Kathani used stuffed hides for cushions rather than chairs. Torches lined the walls and greasy tallow-lamps guttered in the middle of each table. A thick pall of smoke filled the upper recesses before being swept out through one of the chimney-holes.

What most unnerved Idasha was the wolves. Nearly the size of pack-beasts, they sat shoulder to shoulder and hip to hip with the men and women of Kathan, and ate from the tables as humans did. Their coats were thick and pale in shades of white and grey, their eyes keenly alert and intelligent.

"We've had dark news from Hothar," King Deveran said to Felin. "It told us that you were dead."

Felin bowed his head. At the first Kathani way-house they'd come to, he had cleansed the dye from his hair. It shone russet touched with gold in the firelight. Idasha could easily see the resemblance between him and the king, and also to many others in the hall.

"As you can see, worthy uncle, that news at least was in error. I survived, as did one other. This is Nerrar, brother to Beris who was wife to my cousin Davore." As Nerrar took an uncomfortable step forward, Felin added, "He was sorely ill-treated by the one who now calls himself king of Hothar."

They made no mention of Nerrar's uncanny magics, nor did Idasha detect the strange weightening of the air she felt whenever Nerrar used his power to touch another's mind.

Felin told briefly how his father had died at the Battle of Trevale, and how he himself had escaped with a few other loyal followers. The rest had been left behind at the wayhouse, because Shentha and Urdevik were too exhausted from their journey to continue. Edaran and Cooky had remained to watch over them. He introduced Tunok and Belorva, and came to stand before Idasha.

"Brought me a gift of a woman, have you?" the king chuckled. "That old custom has long since died out, Felin, as has my spark! But if you insist, one of your cousins might be willing to accept her in my stead."

Idasha's spine stiffened as she found herself confronted with the leers of men whose age ranged from greybeard to stripling.

"Peerless uncle, I bring this woman not as a gift but as a valued prisoner," Felin said swiftly. "She is the Lendrin heir, not the false king Jherion."

The king's voice sliced through the subsequent uproar. "Explain, nephew!"

He did, and when they questioned how the mute Nerrar had been able to tell him these things, Nerrar demonstrated. His magic reached out to humans and wolves alike, all of them Kathani-bred and able to hear him. When he finished, Idasha's head throbbed though she'd heard none of it, and the aged king was convinced.

"So Hothar is in the hands of a pretender! And we hold the last Lendrin! This is some news that you bring, Felin!"

"As it please you, mighty king, Hothar's position now is weak. When the people learn that they have been duped, Jherion's support will vanish like nightmist before the sun. Lend me an army, and I will re-take that land."

Deveran stroked his beard with a hand so frail it was nearly translucent. "But if Hothar is up for grabs, nephew, why should it be yours?"

Felin drew himself straighter. "Avar-your-brother was my father, and I his only child. Of Oldered's issue, both died without heirs. Thus, I am next in line."

"Felin ... my father sired seven sons and five daughters, though it took him three wives to do it. I was the eldest of them. I have seen more than eighty winters come and go, in which I've outlived the rest. I wed when I was fifteen and my own sons numbered four, my daughters six ... I have outlived all of them as well, but between them, they managed to provide me with eighteen grandsons and eleven granddaughters. They have worked diligently to breed great-grandchildren for me."

"A large family indeed," Felin said.

"As you may be able to imagine, this puts a certain strain on my resources. Only one of them can be king of Kathan after I go to join the spirits. I cannot divide my lands further to please the rest. Yet there is Hothar ... a large and prosperous kingdom ... if I am to support the claiming of it, why should I support you?"

"Avar-your-brother --"

"Yes, yes ... and you are his only child. What happened to my brothers? Did the strength of our sire's seed dwindle with each passing one of us? Oldered had two sons ... Avar, who was youngest, had but one! How old are you, Felin? Nearly thirty, unwed and childless? While I and mine have spawned a fertile dynasty!"

Another man, of dark red hair and beard, jumped up. "I would have Hothar, honored grandsire!"

As if his was the wave that burst the dam, at once the hall was clamoring with competing shouts as each of the kinsman and not a few of the kinswomen pushed his or her own cause. They seemed to Idasha like beasts, like wolves, squabbling over the same prey.

"We should have foreseen this," Felin snarled to Nerrar. The air grew heavy between them as Nerrar spoke in his fashion, but Felin shook his head. "Uncle!" he called sharply, above the din.

King Deveran motioned for quiet and finally attained it. "Something more to add, nephew?"

"Great ruler, I appeal to you on behalf of your brothers' memory. I lived twenty years in Hothar. I am best suited for it." He paused, glanced at Idasha, and met the king's gaze evenly. "And would marry this woman, adding my claim to hers."

Idasha drew a hot breath meaning to retort, but before she could the old king laughed.

"Cub, do you think your intentions matter a snowflake in the flames? The girl is in my court now, and I will wed her to whosoever I please!"

"Hear me, you grizzled white wolf!" Idasha snapped. "My blood may be Hotharan, but my soul is Westreacher, and we marry where we will! You can force me at sword's point through a mockery of a wedding, but soon thereafter, I will be a widow." She turned to look venom at each of the Kathak men, finally coming to rest once more on the king. She shrugged. "You have so many grandsons that I'm sure it won't trouble you to lose one."

"So, you do more than just glare!" Deveran said approvingly. "I'm partly of a mind to give you an army, little girl, and see what you'd do. You remind me of my cousin Verana, Oldered's wife. What a warrior-queen you'd make! Were I forty years younger, even thirty, I'd take you for my own!"

"Uncle, do not do this!" Felin strode angrily at the throne but was stopped by a huge slavering great-wolf that blocked his way. "I came to you as a kinsman, asking only your help and offering my loyalty, and instead you would take from me the inheritance and wife that should be mine? Where is the wisdom and justice in that?"

"You dare question me in my own hall, insolent cub?"

"I am of your own flesh and blood!"

"And you've brought me a formidable lever in the form of this Lendrin girl, for which you have my gratitude. But neither of those give you the right, nephew, to come and demand armies of me to re-take the land you were foolish enough to lose."

"But, Uncle --!"

"Silence, Felin! You have come home through much hardship, but I will only brook so much presumption from you. Obey me as a dutiful nephew should, and you will be welcomed here as family. Challenge me again, and I will have you put from this castle. Understood?"

Felin bowed his head, his shoulders tense with rage. "Understood, mighty king."

"Good." Deveran sat back on his throne and smiled ferally at Idasha. "And you, Idasha Lendrin, heir to Hothar ... despite your threats of wedding-night murder, I am undaunted. You will marry one of my grandsons or great-grandsons. Mayhap the first few weeks you'll both sleep with armed guard at hand, but I'm sure that once you've kindled with child -- and given my bloodline, it won't take long! -- you'll lose interest in killing your husband."

"Easy for you to discount my threats," Idasha said, trying not to let her voice tremble. "It's not your life at stake."

"Worthy one," a blond-braided woman politely cut in, "I hope you're choosing only from among your unwed kinsmen?"

"What, Jeyana, you'd not be displaced by an heiress second-wife?"

She shook her head vehemently, and was joined by several other women. Some of the men protested, while others, the unmarried ones, voiced their agreement.

The king chuckled indulgently. "Very well ... those of you unwed or widowed shall each have the chance to state his case. I shall choose the most likely among you."

"Please, brother-of-my-father," Felin said. "Let it be forgotten that I ever presumed to ask for an army ... just allow me to beg you to reconsider this marriage."

"Naralna?" Deveran queried.

A tall, willowy girl with hair like the sunset rose at his summons. "Here, great-grandsire."

"Naralna, this is your distant cousin Felin. Be a dear and help him to divert his mind from the Lendrin heiress, would you?"

"Gladly, great-grandsire." She gave Idasha a smug look and swayed over to stand close to Felin.

"Uncle --"

"Another word and I shall deem it a challenge."

Felin subsided into a fuming silence. He glanced at Nerrar as if to say do something! but the rat-master only spread his malformed hands helplessly.

"I tell you, I will not do this," Idasha stated.

"Oh, but you will," the king said. "You will. When it comes to a choice between the arms of a husband or the jaws of a wolf, I find they always opt for the former."

Continued in Vol. IX -- Winterscape

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