“In good weather? Ten hours, once we cross Ravensmark. In this? Your guess is as good as mine. A day, ten days, never. If we hit avalanches, we might not make it at all.”
“Avalanches?” Cholayna craned her neck up toward the pass, invisible in the flying snow. “How high is Ravensmark?”
“Eleven thousand forty.”
“Meters? Good God! You can’t call that a pass! That’s a mountain all by itself.”
“No, eleven thousand forty feet—”
“What’s that in civilized numbers?” Vanessa demanded.
“I can’t be bothered to figure all these numbers for you,” Jaelle snapped, “I have important things to worry about, such as how in the names of all the goddesses we’re going to get these horses across here if the road’s been washed out from the summer floods! There’s a long stretch where the road has never been good for more than one pony’s width, a washout there could mean losing half our baggage. Do you want to hike through the Kilghards in a backpack and no spare boots? I don’t.”
“I’ve probably climbed worse,” Vanessa said. “Believe it or not, Jaelle, there are other planets with snow and high mountains in the Empire. If you’re not able to get over a pass without your mystical psychic powers—”
“Now listen here—” Jaelle began.
“Hold it! Both of you,” Camilla ordered. “If we’re going to stand here arguing about what we’re going to do, let’s use the time for something practical while we wait. Vanessa, hunt out the grain. We’ll feed the animals. Then if we decide to start over the pass, they at least will be well fed and in good shape. Jaelle, have you been over Ravensmark before this?”
“Twice. It’s easier this way. Coming down from the North, you’re more exposed to the wind. But this direction isn’t exactly a picnic. I really am worried about washouts, and with snow in the pass—if Vanessa is really as experienced as she claims, she wouldn’t take it lightly either.”
“I never said I was taking it lightly,” Vanessa quibbled, “but I do feel, the worse it is, the more sense it makes to get over it before the snow gets any deeper. If Jaelle doesn’t feel comfortable leading the way, I’ll try.”
“I know the way, and you don’t,” Jaelle said. “If it can be led at all, I’ll lead it. I’m not worried about getting across myself, on foot. The chervines can make it, it’s their kind of country, after all. And I think the ponies probably can. But I tell you, those ledges are narrow. Even at the best, you don’t cross Ravensmark on horseback. It makes Scaravel look like the Great Northern Road. Even with washouts, I’d try it in decent weather. But if we get a hard freeze, and there’s glare ice—I’m not actively suicidal, and I don’t imagine you are.”
“That bad, huh?” Vanessa looked at Jaelle in silence for a minute. When at last she spoke, to Magda’s relief, there was not a trace of argumentativeness in her voice.
“What are our options, then? If the risk is that great—what alternatives do we have?”
Jaelle considered this for a moment. She looked at the thickening snow, and said, “If we don’t cross it tonight, it probably can’t be crossed at all until after next spring-thaw. That’s why it’s the least traveled pass in the Kilghard Hills. Once there’s glare ice on those ledges, I wouldn’t cross it for all the copper in Zandru’s tomb. We’d have no choice except to go back, and go round by Hammerfell.”
“Can we cross it tonight?”
“I think I could get across in daylight,” Jaelle mused, “though I might have to lead the horses across one by one. If you’re used to mountain-style ice-climbing, you probably could. And I’d bet on Camilla. I’m not sure about Magda, but she did get across Scaravel in the dead of winter, and I wasn’t any help even when the banshees found us. But—” She turned and looked at the one remaining woman.
Cholayna looked straight into Jaelle’s eyes. “I’m not afraid.”
“That has nothing to do with it. It’s not your courage I question. It’s your balance, your skill, your head for heights. Magda has no head for heights at all, but she knows I do, and she’ll take orders. What about you? Ravensmark is about the worst trail you can imagine, and then some. Vanessa has done some climbing for the fun of it, so I know she won’t panic when the going gets rough—and believe me, it’s rough enough that I get scared myself, and I don’t usually scare. If you lose your nerve when we’re in the neck of the pass, along those ledges—what then? We won’t be able to turn around and go back, not at that point. Once we’re halfway over, it’s too late. I think we’re going to have to go around. I honestly can’t be sure you’ll make it, and I don’t want to risk all our lives on your nerves.”
Cholayna opened her mouth to protest, and shut it again. At last she said, “Fair enough. I’m the weak link. Do you want me to turn back, and let the rest of you go on? Because what you’re saying is, the rest of you can make it without me. And if you turn back and go around—there wouldn’t be much chance of catching up with them in time—right?”
“If we go round by Hammerfell,” Camilla said, “I doubt we’d catch up with them this side of Nevarsin.”
“And if we—or you—go on, you have a good chance?”
“A chance,” Jaelle said. “Not a good chance. There’s that, too. I could risk all our lives and push across Ravensmark, and we might still lose them. I don’t know if it’s worth pushing you all this way for such a bare chance. I’m no gambler—never have been.”
“Forget about me,” Cholayna said. “What do you want to do?”
Jaelle turned on her angrily. “That’s not a fair question! How can I forget about you? You’re here! Do you think I want your death on my conscience?”
“I shouldn’t have come, should I?”
“Too late to worry about that now,” Camilla said, while Jaelle hesitated, too polite to answer. “Done is done. I can see why you wanted to come, why you had to. Sending you back alone would be just as dangerous as trying to drag you across Ravensmark, so forget about it. Just shut up and let Jaelle think what’s right to do.”
Cholayna shut up. It must, Magda thought, have been the first time in twenty years that Cholayna had been treated like a nuisance, a liability. It was Jaelle who must make the final decision. Quietly she went to the saddlebags, dug out rations and shared out handfuls of dried fruit and meat bars.
“Whether we cross or go back, we won’t have time for a meal in the neck of the pass. We fed the horses, which makes sense. Eat.” She handed Jaelle some of the meat-and-dried-fruit mixture, and Jaelle put some of the stuff, absentmindedly, into her mouth and chewed.
Cholayna nibbled on a raisin, and Camilla said, “Eat some of the meat, too. Whatever we do, in this cold you need something solid.”
Cholayna sighed, put the dried meat into her mouth with visible distaste. What Camilla had said was right, and Cholayna knew it, but Magda, watching her struggle to keep from spitting out the detested and unfamiliar food, felt considerable sympathy for her. Cholayna Ares was used to giving orders, not taking them; and while she might be willing to take them on important things which were obviously a question of all their lives, she would, sooner or later, refuse to take orders about personal matters.
Vanessa looked at the sky, from which the color was already beginning to fade as the snow thickened. “So what are we going to do? If we’re going to try to cross, we’d better not waste any more time. And if we’re not, shouldn’t we get under cover?”
Magda knew that Jaelle had no taste for making such decisions. Yet they were all turning to her, demanding it. She wished she could shelter her friend in her arms and protect her. But for better or for worse, the decision was Jaelle’s.
Jaelle finished the mouthful of dried meat and fruit, swallowed once or twice, and sighed. “I don’t know what to say. I swear I don’t! Vanessa, what do you think?”
“I’m not as familiar as you are with the place. I’m not familiar with it at all. If you want to try, I’ll follow. We can give it a good try.”
“M
agda, what do you say?”
“I’m willing to take the risk, if you think it can be done.”
“I know that,” Jaelle said, and now she sounded irritable. “I’m asking what you think Cholayna’s chances are of making it, and whether it’s worth pushing on, with the risks what they are; or if we should play it safe, turn around and head for Hammerfell. Or would you take her round by Hammerfell, and Van and I go over, try to catch up, and wait for you at Barrensclae?”
“Maybe you should ask Vanessa,” Magda temporized, half joking. “Personnel is her job. I think we should all go ahead, or all go back together and go round. If she goes back, I shall have to go with her. What about it, Cholayna? Do you want to try? I see no point losing three days or so, but only you know if you’re willing to risk it. But if Jaelle thinks I can make it, you probably can.”
“I’ll try,” Cholayna said, with the ghost of a smile. “And I promise not to lose my nerve. Or, if I do, I’ll keep my mouth shut about it.”
Jaelle shrugged. “All right. Let’s go before the snow gets any thicker and has a chance to freeze. If we can get through before there’s ice on the ledges, it will be a lot more workable. One word of advice—and this goes for you too, Magda. Keep your eyes on the trail and don’t look down.”
* * *
CHAPTER ELEVEN
« ^ »
At first the road led upward between hills, steep but not yet menacing. The snowflakes had grown smaller, no longer hand-sized, but the smaller flakes came down thickly, and Magda knew this meant the snow would continue to fall. There were still a few hours of grayish daylight.
Jaelle led the way, muffled in cloak and hood, thick scarf tied over her face; Camilla came after, with two chervines broken to a tandem rein; then Cholayna, at the center, on the smallest and most-sure-footed of the mountain ponies. Magda came behind her, riding a horse and leading one of the chervines. Vanessa, mountain-wise but unfamiliar with the trail, brought up the rear.
As the trail led upward, it grew fainter and steeper. Parts of it were trodden deeply into old mud, rocks lining the path underfoot, and patches of last winter’s snow clinging beneath the thick tree-hedges that lined the road. It was very silent, even the animal’s hooves sounding muffled underfoot, and the snow continued to fall. Upward and still upward; now there were places where the trail all but disappeared between trees and rocks. The chervines did not like it, and whickered uneasily as they picked their way. After an hour’s riding—-though it seemed like more—Camilla signaled a halt, got down and took the two tethered-together pack animals off the tandem rein.
“They won’t be able to make it like this. Cholayna, you take the lead rein on this one. He’ll follow the other, she’s his mother and they’ve worked together for years. He won’t run off and get lost, but he needs a rein to follow.” She climbed back into her saddle. Her face was muffled in a scarf and heavily smeared with cream against the burning of the wind. Cholayna had the same cream on her face; it looked grotesque against the darkness of her skin, as if she were checkerboarded black and white.
When they started upward again, the path was so steep and so narrow that the chervines were lurching upward as if they were climbing steps. Magda kept feeling that she would slip backward off her horse as the animal’s quarters strained up under her saddle. She thought, We’ll never make it. A few minutes later, Jaelle signaled a halt. Her figure was blurred through the thickening snow, which was no longer melting as it fell but sticking to the ground, still no more than a thin white sifting; rocks and mud showed patchy black through snowy lace.
Jaelle slid to the ground, hanging the reins on the saddle; she came back, picking her way down over the rocks in the narrow space between the trail’s edge against the mountain, and the horses and pack animals. She spoke to Camilla as she edged past, and Camilla dismounted and came after her. Magda heard her say to Cholayna: “It’s too steep even for your pony. You’ll have to get down. Walk close to your horse and hold his bridle. He’ll find the way better than you can.” She steadied the older woman as she clambered out of the saddle. “Is the altitude bothering you?”
“Not yet, just a little short of breath.”
“Well, take it easy. There’s no point hurrying. There’s bad going ahead, but no danger here. Are you all right, Magda?”
Magda could feel her heart pounding with the altitude, but so far she was in no trouble. She was not so sure about Cholayna, but so far the Terran woman was keeping the pace well enough, and they were gaining height so slowly that there was time to adjust to the altitude. Her ears felt tight, and she yawned, feeling them pop.
“How are you doing, Vanessa?” Jaelle faced the younger woman at the back of the line.
“So far, so good. What are we? About halfway up?”
“Close enough. The hard going starts up there.” Jaelle pointed and Magda sighted up along the path to where a crag hung over the narrow path and, as far as she could tell, the road disappeared and dropped off to nowhere.
Vanessa surveyed it, frowning. Jaelle said, “There are steps. Broad enough and low enough, the horses and chervines can make them if the snow doesn’t get any more slippery. It’s one of the bad spots. I’m going on ahead; let my horse follow if she will, but wait till I signal if it’s all right. I want to be sure there are no nasty surprises up here, while it’s still light enough to see.” She turned and went upward along the narrow trail, half disappearing from sight as the pathway dipped; they could see her red cap bobbing along, then nothing. Camilla said tensely, “I should have gone up with her.”
“She knows what she’s doing,” Magda said. After a minute or two, Jaelle reappeared and beckoned them forward. Camilla took the lead reins of one chervine, letting her horse follow as he would; Cholayna the other. Magda dismounted, taking the reins of horse and chervine, one in either hand, until the trail grew so narrow that she was forced to go ahead, leading her horse and letting the mountain-bred chervine pick his way as he could. Once she found herself edging a tight curb, looking over a dizzy cliff into gulfs of space. The trunks of tall trees thrust up below at crazy angles on the mountainside, and she looked down into their topmost branches. She clutched the lead rein tight and was careful not to look down again.
Ahead of her, where the trail made its sharpest turn, she saw Camilla holding out her hand to Cholayna.
“Hang on. Let the horse go. She’ll find her way all right. Don’t look down. It’s a little steep here. One long step up. That’s right. Fine.” Cholayna’s legs disappeared around the corner. Camilla’s voice came, reassuring her.
“It’s a bit slippery, Margali. Careful.”
She set her boots down with extra care, scrambling for a hold; rounded the blind corner and found herself on broad, low rock steps. One of them crumbled away perilously close to a sheer drop of at least fifty feet and then vanished into blurred snowy treetops. A little dizzy, her ears ringing, she heaved herself to her feet, scrambled up another step and found herself on firm ground, her horse lunging upward after her. She came up on the broad rock plate above, where the wind of the heights tore at her hair. She struggled to re-tie her hood, hearing Cholayna’s harsh breaths close behind her. Vanessa pulled herself nimbly up beside them.
“Whew! That’s a mean one. And you say it gets worse?”
“Unless there are bad washouts, we can probably handle it,” Jaelle said, “but let’s get along. There’s not more than an hour of daylight left, and the snow’s beginning to stick. There are some places we couldn’t possibly manage in the dark.”
The upward path was less steep now, but wound close to the side of the mountain, just wide enough for a woman or a pony. Cholayna, at Camilla’s advice, walked on the inside of the trail, hugging the rock cliff and clinging to the pony’s bridle. Magda would have liked to do the same; she edged as close to the cliff as she dared and did not look down. Once she heard a kyorebni scream, and the great carrion-bird loomed close to them; the pony lunged with fright and Magda struggled with the
rein, trying to quiet the animal, herself terrified by the huge beating wings, the evil glinting eye which looked for a moment straight into hers, and then was gone; she saw the bird careening off into the wind below her and quickly turned her head and stared at the solid rock of the cliff.
Vanessa, behind her so close that Magda could feel her body’s warmth, muttered, “What in hell was that?”
Magda said briefly, in Terran Standard, “Lammergeier. Near as makes no difference.”
They bent their heads against the wind. It was strong now, whirling the snow in stinging, biting needles. Every step now strained the muscles of Magda’s thighs painfully against the upward slope, and the snow, half an inch thick now under her boot soles, was wet enough to slip underfoot. She could hear the animals panting hard, their breath like hers, coming in white clouds against the white snow.
Upward and upward; then she heard Jaelle’s shout:
“Washout ahead. Hug the cliff and let the horses find their own way!”
Ahead, she saw Cholayna inching her way past a giant’s bite taken out of the edge of the roadway, so that the path narrowed to a few inches. Trying to steady her breathing, Magda flattened herself against the cliff and placed each footstep with extra caution, closing her eyes against the temptation to look down into the dizzying expanse of snow beneath, blotting out the valley below. She felt Vanessa’s hand on her elbow, steadying her.
“All right, Miss Lorne?”
How absurd that sounded, in these wilderness surroundings. She thought, I’ll have to speak to her about that, and concentrated on placing her feet with care. The chervine picked its way carefully along, shaking its antlers against the thick snow.
Her heart was thumping now. No more than thirty-four hundred meters, that’s not all that high, I must be in worse condition than I thought. And we’re not even near the top yet. Her world had narrowed, the precarious rocky road under her feet, the soft snorting of her horse, the soft clicking of the chervine’s hooves muffled by snow. Somewhere above them a rock rattled loose and bounced over the trail ahead and Camilla called back softly, “Careful. Look out for falling rocks along here.”