'I figure that I got a better chance of having food in me belly staying with you than trying my luck in Magilnada.'
'Good man, good man,' said Anglhan, squeezing Gelthius ever harder. The debtor-now-freeman twisted his head away as his face was forced towards the debt guardian's flabby chest and odorous armpit. Much to Gelthius' relief, Anglhan relinquished his grip and turned towards another victim.
Gelthius felt a slap on the back. Fearing another crushing, he stepped away as he turned, but it was Lepiris. The two looked at each other, smiles cracking. Lepiris grabbed the back of Gelthius' head and pulled him forwards, planting a big kiss on his brow.
'Freedom, friend,' Lepiris said, his voice breaking. They stood head-to-head, gripping each other's shoulders.
'Freedom,' echoed Gelthius. 'Spirit-blessed freedom!'
III
The landship creaked and groaned along the dusty track as the turnsmen — all but six had chosen to stay with Anglhan — laboured at their cranks. Anglhan stood on the aft deck in his most expensive clothes — bright red shirt, cloak of black wool, red-and-blue checked trousers held by a belt fastened with a gold buckle cast in the shape of an eagle's head, black boots with the tops turned down to reveal their fur lining. Around his head he wore a green scarf embroidered with a leaf design, ending in knotted tassels that hung to his waist.
He felt magnificent. The sky was blue from horizon to horizon. The air was fresh and clear. As the landship crawled slowly up the hillside, he looked to larboard and saw the great plain of Free Country stretching between the Lidean and Minean Mountains. He fancied he could see, beneath a white cliff, the city of Magilnada, though it was no more than a smudge of black against the white, and perhaps was not the city at all.
A shout from the mast top directed his attention past the bow. A large group of armed men stood across the road ahead, bows and slings in hand. As the landship approached, Anglhan recognised Reifan, one of the rebels he had set free. The tall, lean man signalled for them to stop, but Anglhan waved for the rebel to come aboard, not wishing to stop and lose momentum whilst still on the slope.
'I was not sure you would come,' confessed Reifan as Anglhan helped him over the rail. He was a gangling fellow with a mop of red hair and sunburnt skin, his cheeks darkly freckled. The rest of the rebel group fell in beside the landship, walking in lines to either side, their weapons ready.
'I don't blame you for such distrust, lesser men than I might have second thoughts about this enterprise,' replied Anglhan. He returned to the aft deck with Reifan beside him. 'So, where are we headed?'
'Thunder Pass,' said the rebel, pointing ahead where the mountains rose higher. 'There are old mines there, near Litheis.'
Anglhan turned to the steersman and gave instructions to bear to larboard, leaving the road. The man called to his two mates, and all three leaned heavily down on the tiller and hauled it to the side, teeth gritted. Slowly axles turned and the landship swung in the desired direction. The tillerman and his assistants ducked beneath the boom and reversed the manoeuvre, straightening the wheels.
'We should be there a little after midday,' said Reifan, shading his eyes against the sun. 'Aroisius the Free is waiting for you.'
'And I am eager to see him as well,' said Anglhan, clasping his hands behind his back. He grinned at Reifan. 'Very eager.'
IV
Thunder Pass was a steep-sided valley, the walls pitted with caves and disused mine workings. Reifan guided the landship into an immense cavern not far from the entrance to the pass. Inside were hundreds of men and women, children also. Smoke from dozens of fires filled the cavern before seeping out of a fissure that ran halfway along the roof. The floor was littered with ash and other detritus. Rolls of blankets, barrels, boxes, bundles of staves, stacks of arrows and other equipment lined the uneven walls. The chamber echoed with ringing hammers and the rasp of saws, fiery crackling and shouts.
To Anglhan, who was a stickler for a neat and orderly vessel, it was quite a mess and the rebels' ragtag appearance dented his optimism a little. Reifan and his companions had led Anglhan to believe that Aroisius was well-prepared and organised. From here his 'army' looked no different from the dozens of other dissident bands that had populated the mountains.
Anglhan tried to keep his smile, but Reifan must have noticed something in his demeanour.
'Don't be fooled,' said the rebel. 'This is just the workshop and families. Up top, it's a different story.'
'Up top?'
'Don't worry,' Reifan replied with a grin. 'It's only a short climb.'
While the crew made fast the landship, Anglhan and Furlthia disembarked with Reifan. The crew lowered blocks on ropes to chock beneath the landship's wheels and began bringing down the sail boom.
'Back to work,' snapped Reifan as a considerable crowd gathered. He shoved a few of the most reluctant, and sent the children scurrying with a snarl. 'You all have things to do!'
Outside, the valley was beginning to fall into shadow, while the sun shone from the almost sheer wall opposite. The dipping valley floor was broken by scrub and rocks. Piles of boulders and scree extended out from the sides from past landslides.
'They had to give up mining because of all the cave-ins,' explained Reifan as he led them up the valley. 'Even slaves cost money. It's called Thunder Pass for a reason. In winter, storms sweep right down here from coldward. Really bad blizzards and avalanches.'
'And you stay here during that?' asked Furlthia.
'Safest place to be,' said Reifan with a wink.
The way 'up top' was a winding path just wide enough for two men to walk abreast, sometimes so steep that steps had been carved into the bare stone. There was no fence or guide rope and Anglhan was happy to follow behind his guide, keeping as close to the cliff as possible. Here and there a frayed rope or bent bronze hook showed where the ore had been lowered from the higher mine workings, but most had been scavenged over the years. Occasionally Anglhan's foot scraped over ancient nails and he stubbed his toe on a thick plank jutting from under the roots of a twisted, stunted tree.
He was lathered with sweat by the time the path reached the top of the cliff, and his knees were trembling from the exertion. Heaving in painful breaths, Anglhan forced himself up the last turn of the path, Furlthia giving him encouragement from behind. With a few more panting gasps, he came to the top. Reifan extended a hand and helped him up a last steep step.
They had come to a shoulder of Mount Litheis, which stood like a sky-piercing guardian at the head of the valley. The shoulder sloped gently to coldwards and duskwards, layered with thick soil and sparse patches of grass. The plateau was easily five or six bowshots deep and extended for more than twice that length, narrowing gradually and steepening as it progressed along the valley, until it merged with the steep sides of the mountain. A ridge jutted out two-thirds of the way along, providing a natural wind barrier, and it was in the lee of this that there were pitched dozens of tents. Several hundred, guessed Anglhan, each large enough to house twenty men. The camp was strangely quiet, the wind and snap of canvas the only sounds.
'Where is everyone?' Anglhan asked.
'Hunting, getting firewood, keeping watch,' said Reifan. 'Some old hill tribes have villages coldwards of here, far enough from Ersua that the Askhans haven't bothered coming after them. They've always hated Salphoria too, since their ancestors were driven up here by King Arnassin. We've trading parties that go to them throughout the summer, with crops, wool and other lowland stuff they can't get hold of any way. In return, they let us stay here and give us food, wood, rope, even some of their women.'
'How long have you been here?' asked Furlthia. He looked around at the camp with incredulity. 'I'm surprised
