The wind was a constant, swooping across the plains unchecked, unchallenged, and without mercy. Its biting cold numbed the riders’ hands and faces and, when it began to snow in earnest, drove flakes into their eyes and noses.
They were forced to slow their pace during the storm, despite Janis’ impatience. He had hoped to reach Reoth in a day and a half of hard riding. Now though, it looked as though they would be lucky to reach the village in the next two days. Khollo was also worried about what the storm could be concealing. In this weather, there could be vertaga twenty meters away and no one would be the wiser.
When at last Janis gave up and called a halt, the storm was still raging fiercely, whipping great drifts of snow about. Khollo dismounted and was immediately knee deep in snow.
“Pull the horses into a circle!” Janis shouted. “We’ll shelter behind them.”
Khollo tugged at Arle’s lead rope, urging the sturdy little horse between Gray Wind and Gale. Arle was being uncooperative though, rolling her eyes in alarm, snorting and stamping.
The storm is setting everybody on edge, Khollo realized. Normally, Arle would be the calmest of the horses, but she was the only one panicking right now. Sermas, Hern, and Janis had succeeded in hobbling the others in a U shape to block the worst of the wind and were busy digging out a shelter in the center of the ring of horseflesh.
“Khollo, hurry up!” Janis called. “Or we’ll all freeze.”
Khollo tugged more insistently at Arle’s lead rope. The little horse snorted and stamped again, ducking her head and flicking her ears, then reluctantly followed Khollo towards the others. Khollo slid Arle into position, then hobbled her and joined in digging out the snow to form a low dugout. Before long, the four travelers had achieved a low wall three feet in height. More snow was piling on all the time, making the barrier more and more substantial. After an hour of hard, cold labor, the walls were five feet high and curved slightly inwards, forming a partial dome.
Janis sat back, panting from exertion. “That will have to do. With any luck, the storm will blow itself out by morning.”
Khollo looked up at the circle of dark gray clouds and swirling snow. “We could be here for a while,” he countered. “This storm doesn’t appear to be going anywhere.”
“The good news is, nobody else is either,” Sermas remarked. “No one with any sense at least.”
“We’re in a bit of a tight spot,” Hern said to no one in particular. “No fire, limited food, in a shelter made of snow. The horses are outside freezing – ”
“They’ll be fine for a day or more,” Janis interjected. “Horses are tougher than humans in this situation.”
“ – and we’ve only covered, what, a third of the distance to Reoth?” Hern continued.
“Maybe a little more,” Khollo replied. “But you’re right, we didn’t cover much ground and this storm isn’t helping matters.” He paused. “Thing is, we can’t do much about it. We’ll just have to wait, rest, and hope it all blows over.”
“And that the vertaga don’t stumble over us,” Sermas muttered.
“That’s the sort of thinking that doesn’t help,” Janis growled. “Eat something and get to sleep. No sense in setting a watch tonight. We’ll all get a full night’s rest and see what the situation is in the morning.”
By the time they had finished another disappointing dinner of dried meat and bread, washed down with water, the air in their improvised shelter was warming up. Still cold, but bearable. Khollo curled up with his blankets wrapped around him. He was surprised to find that the snow beneath him was not only comfortable, despite the cold, but also reasonably dry. Snores emanated from at least two of his companions, and Khollo closed his eyes, trying to ignore the storm howling outside.
Sleep did not come easy. And throughout the rest of the night, Khollo woke repeatedly. Twice he thought he heard movement outside, then decided that it must have been the horses and fell asleep again. Each time Khollo woke, he grew more and more uneasy. He was not normally such a light sleeper.
When faint gray light filtered through the hole in the ceiling above, Khollo was already awake, though the others were not. He sat up and looked around. There was a light dusting of snow over everything in the shelter, but the worst of the weather had been kept out. Khollo quietly rolled his blankets up and rummaged in his pack for food. As he was doing this, the others slowly came awake and followed his example.
“Well, you were right, Janis,” Khollo observed. “The storm has stopped.”
“Finally,” Sermas murmured, shivering. “Does this mean we can finish riding to Reoth today?”
“Maybe,” Janis said with a shrug. “Depends on how fast we can move. There will be a lot of snow on the ground to fight through. We may have to help the horses.”
As though on cue, Khollo heard Arle whinny and stamp the snow agitatedly. What’s gotten into her now? Khollo wondered, standing and poking his head up through the hole in the roof.
The world outside had been transformed. An even white blanket coated everything, wiping out hill and hollow, burying rocks and grass and bushes. Khollo could see Gray Wind and Gale with their backsides to the wind, manes and tails stirring with the gentle breeze.
Arle whinnied again, more insistently, and Khollo turned around. “Hey, girl,” he murmured as he did. “I’m right here.” He found himself looking at the sharp head of an arrow, held less than a meter from his
