had to do was wait for the bog boar to die. This could take hours, or, if the throw was really bad, days. One unfortunate hunter had hooked a bog boar's hind leg, and the enraged beast had kept him trapped in the tree for three days until a wolf pack chanced along and dispatched it.
Borak's throw had killed the beast in less than an hour, and they dragged the carcass home to freeze on the roof. It would provide food for several weeks.
Talsy had kissed and hugged her father goodbye with such effusion that he had raised his brows in surprise, and her heart ached. If her plan worked, she might never see him again. As soon as the cart rattled away down the frozen road and vanished behind a belt of forest, she approached the Mujar. Talsy loosened the rope with shaking hands, excitement and nervousness vying within her. She had decided to release him even if he left her behind. He did not deserve to be thrown into a Pit.
As the rope fell away, the Mujar raised his head and inhaled. He opened his eyes and shoved her away, leaping up. Talsy sprawled with a yelp of surprise and pain. He headed for the door, crossing the room in a few long strides, and Talsy thought she had lost him. Then he slowed and turned. His pale eyes swept the cabin and settled upon her, a frown tugging at his brows.
Talsy held her breath, wondering what he would do. He could call up the wind and turn into a bird, or blast his way through the door. Instead, he walked back to her, looking curious and puzzled. She scrambled to her feet, her heart hammering. His glance raked her, and she was acutely aware of her tousled hair, scuffed sheepskin boots and coarse woollen shirt stuffed into worn brown leather leggings. When his eyes returned to hers, his expression remained perplexed, as if his inspection had told him nothing about her.
'Gratitude.'
She knew the ritual now. 'Wish.'
He inclined his head. 'Wish.'
Talsy licked her lips, hoping she would choose the right words. 'I… I want clan bond with you.'
He frowned. 'What clan?'
'Me. I – I want to serve you, give you comfort… I can hunt, provide food, build shelter, cook…'
The Mujar held up a hand. 'One person is not a clan.'
'Two people… you and me. I – I can provide all the comfort you require. Anything. Just take me with you!' The last words came from her heart in a desperate plea.
He regarded her with flat, blazing eyes. 'And in return?'
'Er…' Talsy hesitated, uncertain. 'Help? Transport?'
He appeared to consider, turning away. His eyes scanned the room again, lingering on the fire. 'Do you understand clan bond?'
'Yes. You're free. If you want to leave you will.'
He nodded, then turned and pinned her with a hard stare. 'That is not a Wish.'
'It isn't?'
'No. It is an offer of bargain, of service.'
Talsy racked her brains for a suitable Wish. She did not want to waste this valuable favour he was bound to grant in return for freeing him. 'Um… protection?'
He glanced around. 'From what?'
'Anything. Whatever comes along.'
'If I accept clan bond with you.'
'Yes.'
'And if I don't?'
Talsy bit her lip. 'Then I'll make a different Wish.'
Chanter approached the fire, holding his hands out to it. The flames leapt, tickling his fingers. It was good to be free of the collar. The Powers answered his call, filling him with their comforting presence. He considered the Lowman girl's bargain. Normally he would not have accepted, for one person was not a clan, nor was two. The comforts she offered were tempting, but he could manage without them. That her Wish was part of the bargain made it hard to refuse. He owed her a lot of gratitude for freeing him, but he had another Wish to fulfil, and she would slow him down. There was no time limit on the first Wish, however, so what difference did it make? Turning, he found her watching him, wringing her hands.
He inclined his head. 'I accept clan bond, and your Wish protects you.'
The girl sagged, apparently relieved and happy, judging by her broad grin. He shook his head in confusion at her odd emotional response and raised a hand, holding it out, palm up.
'No harm.'
'What – what does that mean?'
'It means I shall not harm you.'
'Oh.' She looked puzzled. 'But I thought Mujar couldn't harm anyone.'
'We don't like to hurt people, but we can.'
'I see.'
'And you?' he enquired.
'What?'
'What is your answer?'
Talsy stared at him in confusion, then it dawned on her, and she cursed her stupidity. 'Oh, no, I wouldn't try to harm you.'
He hesitated. Evidently her reply was wrong, or at least, badly phrased. He seemed to come to a decision. 'I am called Chanter.'
Talsy had the impression that his name was not something he gave to just anyone, and remembered his refusal to give it to her before.
She smiled. 'I – my name's Talsy.'
Chanter studied her as if he tried to plumb the depths of her soul with his brilliant eyes, and she shivered. When he seemed satisfied with what he saw, he turned to scan the room again. He walked over to the water jug and filled a cup, sipping it. Talsy rushed to gather provisions, stuffing a tent and cooking utensils into a bag. Donning her best fur coat, sturdy boots and gloves, she picked up her hunting bow and quiver. Staggering under the bag's weight, she went to the door and dumped it.
He raised his brows. 'You're going to carry that?'
She nodded.
'How far?'
Talsy frowned. How far would she get in the snow with such a heavy bag? Without it, however, she could not provide the comforts she had promised.
Struck by a thought, she asked, 'Are you hungry?'
Chanter inclined his head, and Talsy gave herself a mental kick. Of course he was hungry after not eating for three weeks. She took the pot of last night's stew from the window ledge and set it on the fire. Several hours remained before her father returned, so she had time. Chanter wandered around the room, fingered the steel teeth of her father's wolf traps and gazed at the collection of hunting spears propped up in a corner. He then sat at the table and watched her, making her face grow warm.
When the stew was hot, he ate a copious amount with great relish, scraping the bowl clean. She led the way outside and turned to him as she closed the door.
'Which way?' she asked with a smile.
He regarded her, then gestured. 'That way.'
Talsy slogged away in the direction he had indicated, her feet sinking into deep snow. The course he had chosen led away from the village in the next valley, and would take them deep into wild forests. The bag dug into her shoulder, but then it was lifted off her and she turned in surprise to find Chanter shouldering it with obvious ease.
He met her eyes. 'Transport.'
Talsy grinned and preceded him along the trail, her heart buoyant. She had never been so happy in her life. All eighteen winters of it.
Although her spirits remained high, by late afternoon her legs ached and her throat and lungs burnt from gasping frigid air. Chanter set a gruelling pace she found hard to match, and he often had to wait for her to catch
