Karay went next, then Dominic and finally Ben. When they were all safe, Ben held his hand
out and introduced himself and his companions.
The woman shook his hand cheerily—she had a grip like a vise. Ben winced. 'Thank you
very much, marm, we're sorry to put you to any bother.'
She flicked the axe from its fissure. Catching it skilfully, she wound the rope back over her
shoulder.
'My name's Arnela. 'Tis no bother, lad. I've swung crevasses on the rope many a time. Aye,
and with a pair of goats slung across my back. Come on, you'll want feeding. Young'uns
always do, goats or humans.'
When they got off the ledge, Arnela led them on a switchback of a route through secret paths
and over jumbles of rock. She gathered goats along the way, chiding each as she herded them
ahead of her. 'Achilles, where've you been, you badly behaved fellow! Clovis, tell that kid of
yours to stay with the rest! Shame on you, Pantyro, stop acting the goat and lead the herd like
I taught you to!'
Arnela stroked Ned's head absently. 'Hmm, nice dog, aren't ye? I'll wager you've more sense
than all these creatures.'
Ben was not at all surprised when Arnela's dwelling turned out to be a cave, though it was so
well concealed that nobody noticed it until she pointed it out. 'There you go, straight in behind
that little waterfall. See if you can do it without getting wet—lean, watch!' She rounded the
corner of a rift covered with wet moss and mountain plants and vanished behind a small
cataract that flowed into a pool and overspilt into a stream. Arnela patted each one's back as
they came through into the cave, checking to see how wet they had got. 'Ah well, you'll learn.
Ned's the only dry one among ye.'
She ducked outside again. They could hear her calling to the goats. 'No, don't stray too far or
there'll be no fodder for ye. Atlas, stop nibbling those plants, d'ye hear me?' A moment later
she was back inside, waving her hand at immense piles of dried grass heaped everywhere. 'Sit
ye down on the goats' dinner while I get a fire going.'
In a deep crevice at the back of the cave, Arnela kindled a fire from the ashes of a previous
one, chatting away animatedly. 'Always use charcoal, nice red glow, no smoke. This is my
summer and autumn home. Winter and spring I take the herd down to the forest, got my other
place there, hidden, like this one. Here, Karay, do somethin' for your living, girl, bring me that
basket of eggs. You boys fetch the flour an' milk, you'll find some fresh herbs there, too, on
that shelf.'
The eggs were those of mountain birds, some big and speckled, others plain white. Karay
handed Arnela the basket. 'I thought you'd be making a stew of goat meat,' the girl said.
The big woman fixed her with an icy glare. 'Goat? People in their right mind don't eat goat, it
makes them silly. I wouldn't dream of eating my goats, they're my children. I'll make you a
special treat of mine. Mountain bread and herbs with good goat cheese, 'tis my secret recipe,
you'll like it.'
Arnela was right, they did like her secret recipe. The food was homely and delicious. As they
ate, Dominic related their story, from the day of their arrival at the village fair up to their
encounter the previous night with Gizal, the blind woman. Arnela listened intently, showing
great interest whenever Adamo's name was mentioned.
When Dominic finished, the goatherd lady sat staring into the fire. 'So, you have taken on a
mission to save the comte's nephew. 'Tis a brave and courageous thing you do. But let me
warn you, the perils and dangers of going up against the Razan could cost you your lives—
they are an evil brood!'
Ben could not help remarking, 'You live in these mountains, marm, but they don't seem to
bother you. How is that?'
A baby goat wandered into the cavern, bleating piteously. The big woman took it on her lap
and stroked it gently until it fell silent and dozed off in the warmth. Then she began telling the
friends her own history.
'I come from Andorra, high in these mountains, between France and Spain. I knew neither
mother nor father, the only life I had was that of a tavern drudge, even as a very young girl.
The owner said that gypsies left me on his doorstep one night. The townsfolk were scared of
me, they said I was a mountain giant. I was big, you see. Though I was only young, I was
taller, broader and stronger than anybody. By the time I was ten, all the local boys had given
up teasing me, because I had beaten most of them soundly for their cruel taunts and jibes. My
life was not a happy one. I slept in the stables, with donkeys and mules for company. Then
the day came—I must have been nearly twenty years of age. One evening in the tavern, the
mayor's brother, a fat pompous lout who had been drinking overmuch, began making sport of
me. I ignored him, which made his mood turn nasty. As I passed by with a trayful of food and
drink he stuck out his foot, and I tripped and fell heavily— meat, ale, dishes and tankards
were everywhere. The owner came running across the room and started beating me for my
clumsiness. Well, I got up and laid them both out with a blow apiece, the tavern owner and
the mayor's brother. The guards and constables were sent for. I fought them, but they were too
many for me, and I was dragged off and thrown in prison. It was more a kind of outhouse than
a real dungeon. While the mayor and the citizens' committee were meeting to plan some
dreadful punishment for my crimes, I broke through the roof, which was only thatch and old
timber, and escaped!'
Dominic, his parchment and charcoals before him, was drawing Arnela as she sat talking to
them. He chuckled. 'You've certainly led an adventurous life, my friend. What happened after
that?'
Arnela stared at her strong, weather-tanned hands. 'I ran away and went to live among these
mountains and the forests below, knowing the townsfolk wouldn't dare follow me into Razan
territory. Nobody except outlaws dwell in this region.'
Karay sat with her chin cupped in both hands, her eyes shining with admiration for the brave
goatherd. 'But weren't you afraid of the Razan?'
The big woman scoffed. 'They knew I was a fugitive from the law. Their menfolk didn't
bother me, but several of the Razan women tried to intimidate me. Hah! I sent them on their
way nursing bruises and broken limbs, I can tell you. Especially the ones who tried to steal
my goats. The Razan tend to leave me alone these days, and that's the way I like it!'
Picking the baby goat up tenderly, Arnela laid it gently on a stack of dried grass. 'I think I'll
call that one Morpheus, he's done little else but sleep since he was born. Dominic, you
mentioned Adamo before. Let me tell you, I know him.'
Ben was immediately curious. 'Tell us about him, please.' The big woman nodded her head
and sighed. 'Several times over the years I saw the boy, always being hauled back to the
Razan caves after trying to escape. My heart warmed to him at first sight, because he was big
like me, and strong, too. You only had to look at him and you knew even from behind that it
was Adamo, a mountain of a young man!
'Anyhow, let me tell you. One night, about a month ago, it began to storm and rain. So, I
went out to the cliffs to gather my goats in here, out of the weather. That was when I saw him
—he was hiding in the rocks like a hunted animal, hungry and soaked to the skin. I brought
him into this very cave, dried him and gave him food. At first I thought he was a mute
because he sat by my fire half the night without saying a single word, just gazing at me with
those beautiful brown eyes of his. But gradually I got him to talk. Adamo did not know who
his mother or father were, but he could remember a big house where he thought he may once
have lived or stayed. He could recall a kindly old gentleman and a nice old lady, but that was
all. One thing he was sure of, though, he didn't belong with the Razan—their mountain caves
