before next rest.”
Caim tried to look through Kit. She kissed him and disappeared. “Is that a settlement?”
“Yes, somewhat. It's a meeting place. The tribes stop there when passing through following the herds. It can get a bit wild, which is why the hunters like it. It's also a good place to restock.”
Caim nodded. They needed supplies, especially oil for the lanterns. He hadn't thought much of it until they were on the road, surrounded by darkness and leagues of ice and snow.
Malig called out from the back of the line. “They got girls there, right?”
Egil grinned through his short beard. “Aye, northern women with hearty appetites. Don't say I didn't warn you.”
“Bring them on!” Malig laughed. “I've got a big appetite myself.”
“What else can you tell us about this area?” Caim asked.
Egil pointed along the path they followed. “This is Luca's Run, and it goes all the way to Grippenheimr, which is about as far north as anybody wants to go.”
Caim gazed ahead, trying to imagine what lay beyond the horizon. “Who controls it?”
“No one anymore. It used to be Snow Owl land, but they moved out west some years back.”
“What?” Dray looked around like he was just seeing the wastes for the first time. “And leave all
“It's the Bear tribe,” Egil said. “They've been expanding their territories. None of the other tribes can stand against them.”
Malig ran gloved fingers through his frozen beard, breaking off small icicles. “Then you should all band together. That's what we did in Eregoth. Kicked that Eviskine bastard and his witch-”
“Malig.” Caim raised his voice. “Take the point for a while.”
Malig glared at him, but then clucked his horse and cantered ahead. Everyone else fell quiet, and Caim was glad for it.
The leagues passed by with awful monotony. The wastes were awash in shades of gray and black. Even the few streams and creeks they crossed were gray, with pale fish darting in their currents. An ache developed behind Caim's temples, dull at first, but it grew in strength as the day stretched on. With his hood pulled down and his eyes half-closed, he didn't see the town until they were almost upon it. Egil's whistle made him look up. Cloaked in snow, the town's outer houses were all but invisible against the wastes. There was no outer wall, not even a palisade. Huge, humpbacked animals wandered outside the town without shepherds or watchers, grazing on the pale grass. They looked like buffalo, but with pale, silver fleece and curled horns.
As they passed through the outskirts, the door of a longhouse swung open, and five men spilled out in a pool of orange light. They rolled around on the ground like a pack of dogs, punching and kicking each other. Eventually, one of the Northmen rose to his feet. Wobbling, with blood running from his mouth and snow in his beard, he growled something at them and staggered back inside the house. A moment later, shouts and sounds of breakage could be heard within.
Traffic increased as they rode deeper into the town. Unlike the trade settlement where they'd left Teromich, there were no southerners to be seen. Caim kept his hood up, but the Eregoths fit in better, all being large and rawboned themselves. Inside the town proper, there were torches and bowls of burning dung to light the way. The streets teemed with Northmen, powerful warriors dressed in furs and hides, running children, old men, and yellow- haired women who watched the Eregoths with frank, curious gazes. Dogs roamed among the people. Not skinny curs like the ones found in southern cities, but shaggy mastiffs with thick shoulders and long fangs.
Caim steered clear of both men and wolf-dogs, finally stopping in front of a tall building sporting a rack of antlers over its door. Across the way, an old Northman pounded on a piece of iron with a massive hammer, the light from the forge reflecting off his huge, sweaty shoulders.
“Where can we hole up?” Caim asked as the others gathered around. The noise and the smells were making his headache worse. All he wanted to do was get off the street.
“There's places that hire out rooms.” Egil pointed farther down the street, toward the town center.
“Is there some sort of market area?”
“Just follow the hollering. You can't miss it.”
Caim looked to Dray. “I'll find a place to stay while you three go with Egil. Get everything we'll need for an extended journey.”
“For how many days?”
“Extended,” Caim repeated. “I'll find you at the market. Try to stay out of trouble.”
Aemon kneed his steed closer to Caim. “I'll go with you.”
“No-”
But the others were already following Egil through the crowd, and Caim was too tired to argue. His head felt ripe to explode. He clucked to his mount and headed down the street. At least Aemon rode quietly without asking questions.
Kit appeared above him, hanging upside down. “There's a nice place up ahead. The rooms are a little small, but the beds look comfortable and cleaner than most places. Oh, and the owner's wife makes fresh bread all day long. It smells incredible.”
Caim looked at her, trying to figure out if she was serious. What the hell did she care if the bread was fresh? With Kit floating by his shoulder, he guided his horse past a knot of Northmen with cloaks made from long, white feathers. They had just entered a narrow street flanked by narrow wooden houses when a sharp pain punched through the center of Caim's chest. He bent forward, unable to breathe. It felt like an arrow had rammed right through him. He looked down expecting to see blood spilled down his front, but there was nothing.
Kit hovered in front of him. “Caim? What's wrong? Caim?”
He couldn't help wheezing as fresh air dribbled into his lungs. Shivers racked his body, and he felt light- headed.
“You all right, Caim?” Aemon asked. “You don't look so good.”
The clansman took the reins and guided both their mounts out of the flow of people. Caim shook and gasped for breath under a wooden archway hung with icicles while Aemon watched with a concerned gaze. Kit's fingers ran up and down his arm.
“I'm okay,” Caim finally managed to say when he could breathe again. But he felt wrung out. “Caught a touch of something.”
“You need to get out of this cold,” Kit said.
At the same time, Aemon said, “You should get someplace warm.”
Caim nodded. “First place we see.”
Aemon returned his reins but took the lead, pushing through the crowd. They stopped at a boarding house sandwiched between two alehouses. Caim slid out of his saddle and managed to stay upright even as the rest of the world swayed. He didn't complain as Aemon tied up the horses.
“Come on, Caim,” Kit whispered in his ear. “Just a few more steps to the door.”
Caim pushed off from his horse. Putting one foot in front of the other, he passed Aemon, who held open the door, and staggered inside. His boots scuffed along the bare floor of a tight hallway. The air was stuffy with warmth and woodsmoke, clogging in his throat. Shaggy cloaks hung from pegs on the wall. Caim heard Aemon's voice, followed by a woman's, and then the Eregoth was beside him again. “Got us a couple rooms upstairs, Caim. You think you can make it?”
Caim let himself be helped up a flight of high steps and around a couple turns. A door opened, and then Aemon was lowering him onto a bed. The mattress was lumpy and stiff, but Caim collapsed without bothering with his boots or clothes and shut his eyes. The light dimmed as footsteps receded. There was talking, but it was miles and miles away in the fog that had set up in his head.
Then a soft voice whispered to him. “Rest easy, Caim. I'm here.”
He smiled as Kit rubbed his shoulders with a touch that felt almost real.
Caim woke up feeling a world better. He had slept all night and through most of the next day. Sitting up, his head didn't hurt as much, and the hollow pain in his chest was gone, but mainly he was famished.
“See who's finally awake.” Kit settled down on the mattress beside him. “You look better. I guess you really needed a rest. You've been pushing yourself too hard.”
