'Are you asleep?' Tillu asked softly.
'Mmm? Oh. No. Thinking. I'm too cold to sleep yet. No. Kerlew didn't leave much of a trail. All I could do was guess which tracks were his. They seemed to follow the trail.
Then I came to where a laden rajd had left the caravan and stood for awhile. Their tracks were sunk deep in the moss. And a big man had been leading them. His sign was plain, also.'
'Joboam.' Tillu wasn't asking.
'So I guessed, and so Kerlew told me when I found him. He had been hurrying up the caravan, and had come to Joboam relieving himself. And he told Kerlew that if he was looking for you, he was going the wrong way. He said you and Kari were off the trail looking for plants. So Kerlew looked where he pointed, and set off that way. To nowhere.'
Tillu felt cold. 'Maybe Joboam had seen us off the trail. Kari and I walk well to either side of it, to get plants that have not been grazed or trampled.' Her voice faltered to a halt. She glanced over at Heckram. He lay on his side, staring at her with red-rimmed eyes.
'You, too,' he said in soft accusation. 'I don't know why everyone refuses the truth about Joboam. He tried to kill your son, Tillu. Just as surely as if he had beaten him to death.'
She dipped a spoon into the soup and tested it against her lip. It was warm enough.
She scooped up a mugful and crossed softly among the sleeping folk. Heckram leaned up on one elbow to take it from her. He wrapped his cold fingers around the mug, glad of the warmth, and drank it down as if it were not hot at all. He set the empty mug off the spread skins, and then rolled back to face Tillu. She knelt between him and Kerlew, one hand resting on the boy as he slept. It was so good to touch him, to know where and how he was. Heckram gave a sudden shudder of cold. Without thinking about it, she took a hide from the floor and tucked it closely around him. She sat between the two, touching her boy and staring at the man.
'Perhaps,' she said, 'we are all afraid that if we believe these things about Joboam, we will have to do something about him. And what we might do might make us no better than he.'
'Capiam should act,' Heckram muttered. 'We call him herdlord. Why doesn't he behave as one?'
'Perhaps he doesn't want to believe he could have a man like that among his folk.'
'Whether he wants to believe it or not, it's true. I told him what I knew when Elsa was killed. Instead of looking into it, he became angry with me. As if I were the cause of it. Joboam could not stand that Elsa had chosen me over him. He hamstrung Bruk. He battered Elsa. And now he has tried to do away with Kerlew. What will it take to convince Capiam?'
Tillu had no answer. Despite his anger, Heckram's eyes were sagging shut. 'I'm so tired,' he muttered. 'I wanted to get here sooner. When Kerlew gave out, I carried him until he could walk again. He's a game little man. He never complained of being cold or hungry.' His eyes were closed now, his words slurred so that she could barely understand them. 'When I found him,' he said, and she leaned close to hear, 'he was hunkered down in a little hollow, like an abandoned nestling. He wasn't looking for the trail or calling or crying. He was just sitting with his legs folded and his arms wrapped around himself. He was shaking with cold. He looked up and saw me and said, 'I knew you'd come for me, brother wolf.' He wasn't surprised at all.'
'Thank you.' The words seemed small. She wanted to say more, but didn't know what it was she needed to say. He was sleeping now, anyway. Wasn't he? 'Heckram?'
His eyes didn't open. But he lifted the edge of the sleeping hide and held it open for her. She hesitated. But he did not clutch at her. He only held it up and waited. Every muscle in her body was tense as she crawled in beside him. His heavy arm fell across her, drawing her close until she rested against him. He seemed not to notice her stiffness. 'I've been so cold,' he said. His beard was against her forehead. 'I thought I'd never feel warm again.'
She drew in a deep breath, and found she could relax. He smelled of sweat and reindeer and life. 'Me, too,' she said quietly. She settled against him and put her hand on his chest, feeling the steady movement of his breathing. Behind her, Kerlew muttered in his sleep and twitched deeper into his covers. He was safe, and she could rest now. They were all safe. She felt her eyes sagging shut and let them. Beside her, Heckram slept.
Tillu awoke to spring rain drumming on the shelter roof, and someone tugging her arm. Pirtsi had her elbow and was shaking it like a dog worrying a rabbit. She jerked her arm free of him and sat up groggily. She didn't want to be awake. Sleep had been a warm, deep place without problems. She was comfortable, her son was safe, and it was early yet. There was time to sleep a little longer, to savor the warmth of Heckram's body close to hers, to enjoy the peace of knowing Kerlew was safe.
'Ketla's sick!' Pirtsi hissed frantically. 'You've got to come right away. Now!'
Tillu rubbed her face, feeling her skin come alive again. She gazed around sleepily.
Everyone else still slept. Why was he bothering her? Pirtsi crouched by her. His eyes darted from Heckram to Kerlew, but his curiosity could not match his mission's importance. He only repeated, 'Ketla's sick!'
The meaning finally penetrated her mind. 'I'm coming,' she hissed back. It wasn't even dawn, only the long dark-gray false dawn of spring and summer. Heckram stirred as she took the warmth of her body from his. She had been pressed against the length of his side, and he muttered grumpily at the touch of cold. She pushed the cover down snugly to take her place and touched Kerlew briefly as she stepped over him. He slept deeply, unaware of her passage.
'Hurry!' Pirtsi whisper-screeched.
'Calm down!' Tillu commanded in a low voice. 'And tell me what's wrong so I know what to bring.'
'Capiam awoke me. Her moaning had wakened him. Her skin is hot, but she complains she is cold, no matter how we wrap her. She says her head aches; she weeps from the pain, and cries out if we make the least sound.'
Tillu sloshed water over her hands and face. She smoothed her damp hair away from her face. 'Does she vomit? Is her stomach tender?'
'No ... I don't think so. I don't know! I came away as quickly as I could to fetch you.'
'I will want a bucket of fresh, cold water. Run and fetch it and bring it to Capiam's shelter.'
She did not watch him race away. The boy was more human in his fear than she had ever seen him before. But even as she selected willow bark and root, and reindeer moss, dried goldenrod and yarrow, burdock roots from the dwindling supply gathered last autumn, and long dandelion roots still crisp and fresh, she wondered at Capiam's blindness. Who could look at that boy and see him as a mate for Kari? Kari would as soon take a dog. She shook her head and sighed as she stood. Half the problems she treated were brought on by the victim's own foolishness. Ketla had probably eaten too much, or perhaps eaten spoiled meat. The willow bark, and perhaps—she paused to dig through her herbs—some of the inner bark of the black spruce would take care of the fever and headache. A tonic of some of the other herbs would wash out whatever was troubling her. Or so Tillu hoped.
She arrived at Capiam's shelter just as Pirtsi did, his bare legs splashed with water where his hurry had sloshed it from his buckets. The panting boy followed her in.
The domed tent looked as if it had never been moved. The same rich hides coated the floor, the same tools and cheeses hung from the arching tent supports. The shelter was warm, but Capiam was putting more fuel on the fire. In one shadowed area, Rolke slept on, unmindful of his mother's distress. Tillu had no doubt of her discomfort. The smell of her labored sweat stained the air, and her low moans came and went with every breath. Blankets had been heaped atop her until her form was barely discernible.
Capiam rose as Tillu entered, and stepped hastily out of her way to allow her to kneel by the woman's side.
Setting down her pack, she asked abruptly, 'How long has she been this way?'
'I ... ' Capiam made a helpless gesture. 'At first, last night, when we lay down to sleep, she complained of the cold. So I covered her with an extra hide. But her body was giving off so much heat, I could not sleep beside her. And still she said she was cold, so I brought her more hides. And then she slept, for most of the night. I woke up, not long ago, when she started moaning. Her skin is so hot, but she keeps on shivering. ...' His words mired down in his helplessness, and he fixed Tillu with a pleading glance. She turned from him to Ketla.
She placed her chilled hand against the woman's hot, dry forehead. Ketla's eyes flickered open. 'My head hurts so,' she said weakly. Over her shoulder, Tillu ordered Pirtsi, 'Put some water to heat.' Turning back to Ketla, she firmly pressed the woman's temples. 'Does this help?' she asked.
'Aah. Yes. Some. But I'm still so cold.' She opened her eyes again, and recognized Tillu. Sympathy wandered
