were a prison to him. The old one, Maguda Razan, kept telling Adamo that she was his
grandmother and the only kin he had living in the world. Poor Adamo, he begged her to let
him go free, but Maguda refused. His hatred of being made to live in the company of robbers
and murderers drove him to try to escape. He never got far—Razan men hunted him down and
brought him back to the caves. Adamo was normally a quiet, lonely boy, but after he was first
recaptured he refused to speak with any Razan, particularly Maguda. Many times as he grew
he tried to escape and break away over the years. Each time he was brought back. Maguda
threatened him with all manner of horrible things, but this did not stop Adamo.
'He told me all this that night I hid him in my cave. Came the dawn, I awoke to find he had
gone. Soon after, a band of Razan came here and searched the area. Ligran Razan was their
leader. He's worse than all his brothers put together, that one. A big mastiff dog he brought
with him picked up Adamo's scent, and away they went, a pack of wild animals led by a wild
animal! I haven't seen Adamo since, pray heaven and all the saints that the poor boy escaped
this time. I haven't seem them dragging him back either, so at least that's something to keep
my hopes up. Though you can never tell with the Razan—maybe they captured him and took
him back by another route.'
Ben felt enormous sympathy for Arnela. 'Don't worry, marm, when we get to their hideout
we'll find him, if he's there. If not, we'll scour all of France and Spain until we can return
Adamo to his uncle in Veron.'
Dominic presented her with his finished picture. 'Thanks for your help, Arnela. I hope you
like this, I did it for you in thanks for your help and hospitality.'
The facemaker had portrayed Arnela in profile, sitting with the baby goat on her lap by the
fire. Beauty and simplicity of heart radiated from the parchment. Every line and weather mark
on the big goatherd's ruddy features caught her kindliness and strength of humanity.
Her voice was husky with reverence for the artist's skill. 'Dominic, I have never seen anything
like this, 'tis a wondrous thing. I will keep it on my driest wall. It will always remind me of
you, my good friends. Now, is there anything I can do to help you? Just ask. Anything?'
Ned leaned his chin on Arnela's knee and gazed up at her. 'This wonderful person would
come with us, I know she would. But the goats are her children—what would become of them
if she left the herd to go off adventuring with us?'
Ben caught Ned's thought and spoke his answer aloud. 'Oh, don't trouble yourself, marm,
we'll be alright. Though I'd like you to keep watch for us on our return. We may need to get
out of these mountains pretty fast.'
Arnela stroked behind Ned's ears. 'I'll watch night and day for a sign of you. Now you must
rest, it's safer to travel by night if you want to avoid discovery. Lie down now, children.'
They lay warm and cosy on the dried grass, Ned with his eyes half closed, watching Arnela
mending their torn cloaks with goat-hair twine and a large bone needle.
Just before the Labrador dropped off, he heard her gathering grass and murmuring to the goats
who had strayed inside. 'Hush now, Ajax, and you too, Pantyro, let the young 'uns sleep.
They've got enough to contend with, or they will have soon. Come on, now, outside, all of
you, have dinner out in the fresh air. Clovis, can't you do something about that kid of yours,
I've never seen such bad manners. Out with you!'
Lulled by the safety of the cave and its flickering firelit shadows, Ned sent Ben a message. 'I
wouldn't mind being one of Arnela's goats, they certainly get the best of treatment and care
from her. Hmm, maybe not, though. Goats are a pretty thick lot, I'd never be able to put up
with all that maaahing and baaaing, would you, mate?'
But his thoughts fell on deaf ears. Ben, Dominic and Karay were already soundly slumbering.
Ben had the feeling that it was evening outside when Arnela wakened them. She had bowls of
vegetable soup and some bread and honey prepared for them.
'Eat plenty now, young 'uns, it might be some time before you get another good meal. Here,
I've fixed up your cloaks as best as I could—needlework was never my strong point. I've
packed a little food for you, and I've thrown in one of my extra ropes and an ice axe, you'll
need them.'
Having eaten, the four companions went outside to take their farewells of their newfound
friend. It was cold. Frost glittered on the rocks, and the sky above was a vault of dark velvet,
pierced by a million pinpoints of bright starlight and a pale lemon-rind slice of moon.
Arnela's formidable arms encircled their shoulders. 'Go now, and take all my fondest wishes
with you. Stay to the right winding paths—avoid the left ones, or you'll finish up stranded on
some ledge. Lead them off, Ned, you good dog. Go on, don't look back, and tread carefully.'
They trudged away with Arnela's voice fading behind them. 'Come out of that water, Theseus,
d'you want your hair to freeze? Narcissus, stop looking at yourself in the pool. Clovis, don't
act silly, I've got your kid here with me. Come on, all inside now, that means you, too,
Pantyro!'
22
NIGHT IN THE high mountains was like being stranded on some strange planet. Silence
reigned. In the clear air, every sound was magnified and echoed. The travellers walked
gingerly onward, keeping their voices to hushed whispers lest they betray their position to
anyone in the vicinity. It was hard going, all upward, and each pace had to be made carefully
across the eerie expanses of white snow and ice and black pockets of shadow.
They had been going for two hours or more when Karay's breath plumed out like steam as she
whispered to Dominic, 'Hadn't we better rest awhile and catch our breath?'
Ben heard her and called a halt. He chose a spot in the deep shadows of a crag to one side of
the path. No sooner had they installed themselves there than voices were heard.
Ned's ears rose as he contacted Ben. 'Sounds like two men. Good job we got in here out of
the way.'
It was the fat rogue Cutpurse and a weaselly-looking older fellow called Abrit. They shuffled
by within twenty feet of where the friends were hiding. Cutpurse stopped, leaning on a staff
he was using as a crutch, and scanned the ground suspiciously. 'Look, there's tracks here!'
There was obviously no love lost between the two men, for Abrit treated Cutpurse as if he
were a half-wit. It showed in his voice. 'Of course there's tracks, lard gut, they're the tracks
we made on the way up. Look, there's the dog's paw prints out in front. Come on, stop slowin'
me down or we'll never find Rouge an' Domba, or the dog. Now what's the matter?'
Cutpurse lowered himself painfully and sat down on the snow. 'My ankle's killin' me, it's
agony to walk any further. Listen, why don't we find someplace where we can lay up for the
night? Then tomorrow we can catch up with the rest an' tell 'em there was no sign of Rouge,
Domba or Gurz. We're just killin' ourselves, blunderin' round in the dark!'
Abrit scoffed at the idea. 'Hah! Alright, we'll do that. But when we get back, I ain't sayin'
nothin'. You tell Ligran Razan you couldn't find 'em. How does that sound to ye, eh?'
Cutpurse pouted childishly and nursed his injured ankle. 'That Ligran's got it in for me—he'd
slay me as soon as look at me. Cruel, that's what it is. Sendin' a man out on a search with a
broken foot. Huh, just wants t'be rid of me, Ligran does!'
Abrit nodded. 'Me too. I've never got on well with Ligran. So, all the more reason for findin'
Rouge an' Domba. We'll be savin' our own lives by doin' the job. On your feet, fatty!'
Cutpurse began to rise. Then a thought occurred to him. 'I think we're goin' the wrong way.
Look, there's only tracks goin' upward. Where's the tracks Rouge an' Domba left when they
came down? I can't see any.'
Abrit scratched his head. 'Y'could be right there. They must've been searchin' on another path.
