Shadow's master

out of balance for a moment too long, and then the Northman would cut him down. Caim hefted his knives. He could throw the suete in a flicker of an eyelash, but would Malig thank him for interfering?

Caim tensed as Malig's foot slipped out from under him. The Northman moved quick as a cat, swinging his sword for the kill, but Malig planted on his “slipped” foot, twisted away, and plowed the edge of his broadaxe into the Northman's side. Before the barbarian could recover, Malig's axe split his face from forehead to chin, splattering his brains across the snow.

“Bear tribe,” Dray said, kicking his dead foe. “Could be more of them out there.”

Snow crunched as Hoek trudged up to them. Blood covered his hands and forearms up to his elbows. His face was a white mask, showing no thought or emotion. Shikari walked behind him.

“What happened back here?” Caim asked. The fire was dying down, leaving behind charred stumps and a strong smell of spirits.

“She fucking threw away our last bottle of hooch,” Malig grumbled.

“A diversion,” Shikari said. “While Hoek and I went to make sure there were no other enemies lurking.”

Dray jerked his spear from the corpse. “And?”

“There was another man with a bow, but he is dead.”

Caim went over to Egil. The guide was unconscious, which was probably a blessing for him. His breathing was labored. Caim cut away the guide's clothing. The arrow was sunk deep. The steady stream of blood leaking from the wound was bright red. Tiny bubbles formed around the mouth of the entry site. The arrow would be damned difficult to get out without shredding Egil's lung. Pushing it all the way through was the safer option, but that wouldn't stop blood from filling his lungs and eventually drowning him.

Malig came over to them. “He don't look good.”

“What are we going to do?” Dray asked.

Caim sat back on his heels, trying not to look at the blood or listen to the tiny voices chittering in his ears. Egil needed a chirurgeon, and the last inhabited town was days behind them. He'd never make it. Caim considered what he would want if he were the one dying. A quick knife to the brainstem to end it? “Let me have some water.”

Dray went to his horse and came back with a sloshing water skin. Caim popped the cork and held the skin to Egil's mouth. Most of it poured down the guide's chin, but he swallowed a little. His chest rose and fell with little shudders.

“Get some blankets,” Caim said. “We'll make a sling to carry him.”

“He's done for,” Malig muttered. “We need to get away from here before more company shows up.”

“Just do it.”

Malig and Dray did as he told them. Then he led them in the direction of the fires on the hill.

“Caim!” Malig hissed from the back of the stretcher. “You're going in the wrong direction!”

But Caim kept walking. With each step the settlement on the hill's summit became clearer. The bonfires were enclosed inside a stout wooden palisade. Caim approached from the south where there was a gate in the fence. It was closed, of course, and he saw several holes in the wooden ramparts, presumably to allow for arrow fire. He stopped a hundred paces from the wall. Singing and shouting-chanting maybe-and the rapid beat of drums could be heard from inside. A pair of bear skulls perched above the gate. Caim studied these things, searching for something to tell him if he was wrong or right. Would these people kill Egil out of hand?

“You sure about this, Caim?” Malig whispered as he set down his end of the burden.

“No, but it's his best chance. I'll take him from here.”

“I'll go,” Dray offered.

“No, I'll go alone. If anything happens, run hard.”

Malig gave a short laugh. “You can count on that.”

Just then, Egil coughed and tried to sit up, only to fall back on the blanket sling with a moan. Caim hunched over him. “We're here.”

“Hurts,” Egil whispered. “Arrow?”

Caim reached out to stop him from moving. “Through the lung. We can't do anything for you, but we can take you someplace nearby.”

Egil craned his head toward the fires, and then settled back on the litter. “At least there's”-he gasped as a shudder shook his body-“no feud between them and my people. Anymore.”

Caim bent down lower. “We have to keep moving. What do you want? I can take you inside, or…”

Egil moved his hand down to his hunting knife. His fingers wrapped around the bone handle. “I'll take the chance.”

Caim took up the end of the litter and dragged Egil as smoothly and quietly as he could. While the drums inside continued to pound, he set his burden down by the gate and paused at Egil's side. “We'll try to stop on our way back.” Do you really believe that? Don't insult him.

But Egil nodded. “I'll be all right. By the time you get back, I'll be married with a pack of little warriors running around.” He coughed and winced. “Oh! Don't tell Jenna I said that.”

Caim squeezed the guide's shoulder and pressed a pouch into his hand. It held all the money he had left, a handful of copper coins with a few silver in the mix. Then he whistled three notes out loud and ran.

When he reached his companions, Dray and Malig were huddled together, discussing something. Shikari and her guardian crouched farther back. Caim looked back to the compound as the gate opened. Two men appeared with spears in hand. When they found Egil, they shouted in their harsh language, and the drums ceased. Caim gripped his knife hilts as more people appeared at the gate. Was he willing to risk his life if they harmed Egil? But his conviction was not tested as two burly men took up the litter and carried it inside. Egil was too far away to see the expression on his face. At least now he's got a chance.

Caim started down the hillside, and the others hustled to catch up. “What are we going to do now?” Dray asked.

“We're going to die out here is what,” Malig grumbled. “A thousand shit-suffering miles from home. We're almost out of victuals, and we don't even know where we're going without Egil-”

“I know,” Caim said with a calmness he hardly felt inside.

“How can you? The sky's as black as a witch's cunny. We got no guide, no map, nothing!”

Caim pointed along the invisible line that was pulling him north. “That's the way. I can't tell you how far Erebus is, but it's in that direction.”

Malig snorted. “Yeah? Well, I think we've been wasting our fucking time out here. Now Aemon's gone. Egil's probably dead. When's it going to be enough?”

Caim winced like he'd been punched to the jaw. “I can't bring Dray's brother back and I can't heal Egil. And I can't promise any of us will survive this. I told you before. If you want to leave, then go.”

“Where are we supposed to go?” Malig said, too loudly. “We're stuck in the middle of nowhere. You ever think about the trip back home when you were planning this shit, Caim? Or maybe you figured we'd be happy to just follow you anywhere and give no second thought about it?”

They reached the horses, and Caim took up his steed's frayed reins. “I never claimed to have a grand scheme. All I've got is a cold trail and an itch in my brain that won't go away.”

“You and your fucking quest.” Malig spat on the ground, some of it catching in his beard as he yammered. “You know what I think? I think you're batshit crazy. How about that? And we're crazy for following you. Your ma's dead and gone, but you can't face that.”

“Mal,” Dray said.

“No! He needs to hear this from somebody, because he sure as shit can't figure it out for himself. We've heard you, Caim. Talking to yourself when you think no one can hear. I've seen the way you look out into the dark like there's answers out there. You're on a death trip and you're dragging us to the grave with you.”

Caim sucked in a deep breath and turned around. Malig stared back with an angry frown. This was the moment. In his younger, wilder days this was when Caim would have drawn and attacked. Kill or be killed. The urge was still there, but he kept both hands at his sides. Malig wasn't saying anything the others weren't thinking. Maybe this was a fool's errand, but he'd come this far. “I don't have any answers. But I'm going to keep following this feeling until I find out where it ends, or someone ends me. If you're coming along, you need to shut up and start riding.”

Caim mounted up and steered his steed to the north.