[Shadowed Path 02] - Candle in the Storm (38 page)

Soon afterward, the crow led her to a muddy puddle. Yim laid Yaun’s cloak upon it so the cloudy water would seep through the cloth, which filtered out the worst of the silt. After drinking her fill of water, she donned the soaking cloak and followed her feathered guide on a long and erratic route that eventually led to a swamp. By then, morning was approaching, and Yim was in a state of near-total exhaustion. Nevertheless, she followed the bird and entered the black, reed-choked water where deep muck made every step an effort. She advanced far into the swamp before the crow reached a soggy hummock and finally stayed put. There, Yim collapsed and quickly went to sleep unmindful of what terrors might be waiting in her dreams.

*   *   *

Honus gathered his officers in his tent at noon for what he expected to be a contentious meeting. After Cronin and most of his staff had been slain, each clan had demanded representation on the general’s staff. As long as battle seemed imminent, the arrangement had worked well enough. But Bahl’s push into Averen had stalled, and as its threat diminished, so had the unity among the clans. Eager to get on with business, Honus addressed the officers as soon as all had assembled. “Lord Bahl has lost his grip over his peasant troops,” he said. “They’ve deserted him, as well you know.”

“Aye,” said an officer. “And they’re eating our scarce rations.”

“Would you rather they pillage for their food?” asked Honus. “They’re our foes no longer, but want can turn them against us.”

“What of Bahl, General?” asked another officer. “Will he invade?”

“I think not,” replied Honus. “My late Bearer studied him and his line. If he holds true to form, he’ll retreat to the Iron Palace.”

“Then why is he still here?” asked another man.

“I don’t know,” replied Honus, keeping his speculations to himself.

“I think Bahl’s reversal offers a chance to attack him,” said Havren, who had been one of Cronin’s officers.

“It could be done,” said Honus. “But if Bahl remains in place, it’ll require a siege. Most likely a long one.”

“We can na mount a siege,” said an officer. “Winter’s drawing nigh, and we have naught but tents for shelter and na great store of food.”

“But our foe’s weakened,” said Havren. “This is the time to strike!”

“Aye, ‘tis easy for you to say,” said a man from Clan Mucdoi. “Na men have come feuding in 
your 
lands.” He cast a baneful look toward an officer from the Dolbanes.

“Mayhap they had na cause,” shot back the Dolbane man.

Honus silently watched the debate go back and forth. As the words grew more heated, any hope of consensus fell away. At last, he raised his voice. “Clansmen! Pause a moment! You called me to lead you in a desperate defense, and I reluctantly agreed. The trial you feared won’t come to pass. At least, on that you can agree. Thus you have no further need for me. I’m a Sarf, not a general. My fate is to follow my Bearer, and that’s what I’ll do. Fight or go home, whatever you deem best. But if you choose to fight, then you must also choose a new general.”

With those words, Honus strode from the tent. He had walked but a little way when Havren caught up with him. “Honus, please reconsider. Do it in Cronin’s memory.”

“His memory helped spur my decision,” replied Honus. “Remember how Yim told him that fighting wouldn’t defeat Lord Bahl? Well, she has been proven right. Yim earned us this peace, though at what price I cannot tell.”

“How can you claim that Bahl’s reversal is due to her?”

“Because I have faith.”

“But now we can defeat Bahl for good!”

“Then act upon your faith as I shall act on mine. Yim didn’t release me from her service, so I remain her Sarf. My obedience goes to her.”

“How can you obey someone who’s disappeared? You’ve na idea where she is. She could be dead for all you know.”

“Yim lives,” replied Honus. “I’ve tranced and not found her spirit on the Dark Path.”

“Honus, please reconsider.”

Honus regarded the young officer with comradely affection. “Havren, the clans won’t unite, so forsake the sword and go home. A stretch of peace lies before you. Relish this gift.”

“I know those are heartfelt words, Honus, and I’m inclined to heed them. But I suspect you will na do so. What are you planning?”

“To lay siege.”

“Alone?”

“Yes, alone.”

“Then I’ll see that you have provisions,” said Havren.

“I’d appreciate that,” said Honus, “as well as your silence in this matter.”

“But what do you hope to accomplish?”

“If I could read my runes, then perhaps I’d know.”

THIRTY
-
NINE

YIM WOKE
in the afternoon after a sleep filled with bloody dreams. Kwahku remained perched upon a skeletal scrub, so she went to forage for some food. Yim waded only a short way before she encountered a stand of cattails. She pulled up one for its starchy root, which she devoured on the spot. Although she rinsed the muck from it first, it was still a gritty meal that had a swampy taste. Yim ate another before the edge was off her hunger. Then she gathered and rinsed additional roots for a more leisurely meal.

When Yim returned to the hummock, Kwahku was gone. She wasn’t overly concerned, for on their earlier travels together the bird often had flown off to survey the route. Having rest, water, and food gave Yim the energy to wonder for the first time where the bird was leading her. Before, she always had a destination.
 
Now I have none 
, she thought. She questioned whether she should follow the bird, for it meant letting others make choices for her.
 
Probably the Old Ones 
. Thinking of them brought back the bitterness she had felt after leaving Lord Bahl’s bed. Yim still believed that the Old Ones, like Karm, had hidden the truth from her.

Just then, the crow swooped down. He landed by Yim’s foot to peck it in an agitated manner. Then he cawed and took off to perch farther into the swamp. Yim was still hungry and continued to eat until Kwahku fluttered down to peck her again. Irritated, she shooed the bird off. Then she heard men’s voices and understood the reason for the crow’s behavior. The voices didn’t come from a single place, but from a broad area. Yim had heard of hunts where men advanced in line to flush their quarry, and it seemed the best way to search a reed-filled swamp. Yim gazed with dismay at all her footprints on the muddy hummock. Then she heard splashing as a great many feet entered the water.

Kwahku flew off again, and Yim abandoned any hope of hiding her footprints; there wasn’t time. She hurried after the bird, trying hard to leave no trail, for she knew that when her pursuers reached the hummock they’d know that she had been there. Spurred by desperation, she maintained a good pace and traveled swiftly. Gradually, the black water got deeper. In a few places, it nearly reached her neck. One such spot was choked with lily pads. Kwahku flew over it to perch on a clump of reeds. When Yim reached the clump, the water was only waist-deep, and she expected the bird to take off again. He did not. Instead he cawed and gazed down at Yim.

By the crow’s actions, Yim decided that she was supposed to hide at that spot. She was in no state to question why she was obeying a bird; she simply squatted down until only her head was above water. Then she scooped up muck and smeared it on her face and hair. That done, she pulled a blanket of lily pads over her head. Then she waited.

The leeches arrived long before the soldiers. Yim could feel them, a subtle stealthy touch, followed by stillness as they fed. Nevertheless, she remained motionless. The leeches were driven only by hunger and meant no harm. The soldiers were another matter. Yim wondered what drove them so hard to hunt her.
 
Fear? Greed? Duty?
 
She also wondered
 who drove them, since their lord had lost his power. She suspected it was Gorm, not Bahl.

The advance was as noisy as might be expected from armored men walking in line through a swamp. The cursing was loud and abundant, which made Yim realize that the search was counting on thoroughness rather than stealth to catch its prey.
 
A line of men to make a human net 
, she thought.
 
Will I slip through a hole?
 
The sound of splashing grew louder.

“A pox on this place!” said a voice. It sounded close. “It’ll take days to polish my armor.” “Aye, curse that bitch!”

“She’s here somewhere. So mark my words, we’ll be here, too, until we find her.”

The splashing became loud. Yim could hear the armor creak. When the water began to ripple, she gulped air and totally submerged. Yim held her breath until she felt her lungs would burst. When she rose to breathe, the sounds of the searchers came from behind. Gradually, they diminished.

Yim waited until all was quiet before she pushed aside the lily pads. Kwahku briefly alighted on a nearby pad before flying off in the direction from which the soldiers had come. Yim sighed and hurried after him.

Leaving took longer than Honus expected. Other officers besides Havren approached him and pleaded with him to stay. Although he patiently listened to each one, he remained resolved to go. But when Havren brought him a large sack of grain, he told Honus something that further delayed his departure.

“Honus, a deserter named Hendric has seen your Bearer.” Honus froze. “Where is he?”

“In the rear. He just arrived half-dead from thirst. I’ll take you to him.”

Havren led Honus to where the deserters had been
 collected and took him to a haggard and ragged man who was hungrily devouring some cold porridge. Preoccupied by his meal, the man appeared startled when Honus called his name. Suspecting that Hendric had never seen a Sarf before, Honus kept his excitement in check and appeared placid. He bowed politely. “I’m told that you encountered a dark-haired woman recently.”

“Aye, Mirien.”

Honus recognized the name.
 
Gan’s murdered sister!
 
He wondered if there was a message in Yim’s choice of alias. “And she was young with dark eyes and shoulder-length hair?”

“Aye, that beed her.”

“Then know that I serve this woman and am pledged to protect her.”

Hendric regarded Honus suspiciously. “She said no one could help her.”

“Perhaps that was true at the time, but no longer. When did you meet?”

“On the night Lord Bahl lost his hold on me. Mirien said she was fleeing him. We fled together.”

“What happened next?”

“We hid all day in a burnt-out hut with not a drop of water. Last night, we went to look for some. There beed soldiers about, and I ran off to lure them away from her. I think I did, but I can’t say for sure.”

“And that was the last you saw of her?”

“Aye.”

“Where were you?”

“In a grain field a half day to the west.”

“Then you headed east to here. Why?”

“Mirien told me to come this way. She said there’d be help for me.”

“Then why was she headed west?”

“She said she had to find a home. Someplace far away.”

Honus felt stunned, though he hid it. “And was she well?”

“I could see no hurts, although she walked as if something pained her. And she said she had been with Count Yaun. He be hard on women. Exceeding hard.”

Honus fought to control his rage, but his icy voice betrayed his feelings. “I think I know the man.”

“He be dead now. Mirien said so. I beed glad to hear it.”

“So other than her gait, she appeared unharmed?”

“Well, she beed cold. Unnatural cold if ye ask me.” When Honus said nothing, Hendric asked timidly. “Be ye some kind of holy man?”

“No. I only serve a holy one.”

“Be Mirien holy?”

“Yes. Why do you ask?”

“Because she said she knew what I did and forgave me.”

“Then you’ve truly been absolved,” said Honus. He turned to Havren. “When you return to your clan hall, would you take Hendric with you and commend him to Cara? He has done Yim and me a great service.”

“I will, Honus,” replied Havren. “Are you still resolved on your plan?”

“More than ever.”

“But it seems Yim has other plans.”

“She’s alone and in danger. I won’t rest until I find her.”

Hendric looked confused. “Yim? Who be Yim?”

“A holy one oft has several names,” replied Honus. “Yim is one of them. It seems that Mirien is another.”

Yim crouched in a thick stand of reeds at the swamp’s edge. There were bloody spots were the leeches had been, but most had dropped off by the time she had stopped fleeing. After she had plucked off the stragglers, there was nothing to do but wait for darkness. Though Yim suspected that she’d be traveling all night, she was too tense to genuinely rest. Heavy clouds had moved in, and they promised to obscure the moon. If so, it would be harder to follow the crow, but also easier to travel unseen.

After the sun set and light left the sky, Kwahku took off. When Yim had walked awhile, she perceived that they were heading toward the stronghold, and she thought she knew why: As the search for her expanded, a path toward its origin would be safer—at least if one had a sharp-eyed guide that could fly. The day’s close brush with capture had dispelled Yim’s ambivalence about following the crow, even if that meant that the Old Ones would determine her destination.