Jonathan smiled broadly. "Virtue is its own reward."
Tereza slapped him on the shoulder. "Don't you believe that."
Konrad came into the kitchen, bundled to the eyes against the winter cold. "Are we ready to go?"
Tereza helped Elaine on with the heavy cloak. She tucked Elaine's pale yellow hair into the hood. "Let's go find Blaine and Thordin."
Elaine felt the smile fade from her face.
"You did your best, Elaine. You warned them."
"I went to the fire as soon as I felt the call."
"I know you did."
Konrad shrugged a small pack over his cloak. It held the healing herbs and bandages.
Tereza wound a multicolored scarf around her black hair. It was very similar to the one Thordin wore. Elaine and Blaine had learned how to knit last year. They had made gifts for everyone.
She had made Tereza's scarf of red and black stripes. Blaine had made Thordin's of every color yarn he could find, perhaps thinking the warrior wouldn't wear it, but he wore it proudly. The joke had ended up on Blaine. He had made matching mittens as a sort of apology, though the mittens were the same awful colors as the scarf.
"Let us be on our way," Jonathan said. His plain knit cap, in his preferred shade of brown, had been Elaine's handiwork. The scarlet cap Blaine had fashioned for Konrad had been eaten by a monster, or so Konrad claimed. He wore a fur hat with a thick, striped tail that curved over his collar.
Mala held out a small pack to Tereza. "Something warm for them. Good food's better than medicine sometimes."
She took the pack with a smile. "Your food, anyway."
Mala blushed at the compliment, and turned back to her stove. The smell of vegetable stew filled the kitchen as she raised the lid and stirred the pot. The back of her neck was still red with the compliment.
The kitchen door opened; snow swirled inward. A gust of icy wind sent the herbs in the rafters swinging. The fire flared, sparks dashing up the chimney. The stableman stumbled in and shook snow from his boots.
"Here, now, you're getting snow all over my clean floor." Mala stalked forward, shaking a spoon that dripped stew on the clean floor.
The stableman gave a loud, braying laugh. "Now, Mala, you know I can't come in through the front door. Where else am I suppose to shake the snow off me boots?"
She pointed the spoon at him, stopping the gravy-covered tip a finger's breadth from his nose. "Harry Fidel, you don't know your place."
"Me place is in this sweet-smelling kitchen as often as I can manage it."
Tereza interrupted, "Are the horses ready, Harry?"
He grinned at her, bringing his nose perilously close to the spoon. "Aye, that's what I come to tell ye."
"Then we can go," Konrad said. They all moved toward the door. The cold air pushed at them like an invisible wall. Elaine drew her cloak as tight about her as she could, shivering in the frigid air. She glanced back as Jonathan closed the door. Harry the stableman was sitting in the straight-backed chair, snowy boots stretched out before the fire.
Mala was dipping out a bowl of stew, her anger apparently gone. She had been widowed for nearly two years. Elaine said the two would be married before the end of the year. Elaine wasn't so sure, but then Blaine was better at guessing about people. He always joked that his hunches were better than her visions about matters of the heart. Her visions tended to be more violent than romantic.
The wind whistled just outside the door, picking up the crystalline snow, flinging it into the air. The icy crystals stung Elaine's face. She jerked away from the wind. The movement threw her hood back, and her hair streamed across her face, blinding her. The cold wind made her gasp. She struggled to pull her hood back in place. Strands of hair clung to her suddenly icy skin.
What warmth the tea and blanket had put back into her body the wind stole. Elaine stood in the snow-swept courtyard, swaying on her feet.
Tereza was suddenly beside her, taking her arm. She didn't ask if Elaine was all right. She just began to lead her toward the stables.
Elaine stumbled; only Tereza's hands kept her upright. "You need to go back inside, Elaine."
She tried to say, no, but no sound came out. She finally shook her head.
Tereza pulled her inside the warmth of the stable and leaned her against the wooden wall. "You can't go like this."
"You said. . you could throw me. . over a horse."
Tereza frowned. "I didn't mean it literally."
Elaine just looked at her, too shaky to do much else.
"What's wrong with her?" Konrad asked. He was already checking the horse's harness. Konrad always checked the horses, even though Harry was never careless. Konrad trusted nothing and no one.
Elaine remembered him before the death of his wife. He had smiled, even laughed. He had trusted others to do their jobs. Now he was a dour man who seemed to believe in nothing. His wife had been killed by an ambush, by betrayal. They never knew who had betrayed them. Blaine said that was what bothered Konrad the most, that someone they had trusted had betrayed them.
Elaine wasn't sure, but she knew something had died in Konrad. Some spark of warmth had gone to the grave with his wife.
Elaine's mare was a large, broad-hipped gray horse. Blaine said the mare looked like a plow horse, but Elaine was not the rider her brother was, so she was glad of the docile mare. A horse that would walk quietly all day, her broad hooves surefooted, her patience endless. It was on her broad back that all the children first rode.
Tereza helped Elaine.mount the mare. She leaned over, hands grasping the stiff mane, cheek pressed against the smooth hair of the neck.
Tereza smoothed back the hood, touching her cheek. "Your skin is cold."
Elaine stayed slumped against the horse. She was so cold. The only warm parts were her eyes, where hot tears were forming. "Lead the horse."
Tereza shook her head but didn't argue. She slipped the reins over the horse's neck and mounted her own horse, reins trailing between.
"Is she well enough to go?" Jonathan asked.
"No," Tereza said, "but she's going."
Konrad made some negative sound, but not too loud. Arguing with Tereza was a time-wasting thing. The outer doors opened, and the horses moved forward. Elaine felt the horse move under her, but the cloak had fallen forward, forming a dim cave round her face. She saw nothing but a small sliver of ground. She closed her eyes, and even that vanished.
The wind slapped against the heavy cloak. Tiny tendrils of frigid air snaked under the fur, icy fingers searching her clothing, seeking her skin. Elaine knew it wasn't that cold. Winter, yes, but not a blizzard, not a killing cold. Even so the cold touched her everywhere and her skin seemed to freeze. Tears froze on her cheeks. It was as if the vision had leeched away all warmth, all protection from the chill. The cold seemed to know and to be hungry for the touch of her skin. Each breath was a painful pull of air.
The horse's hooves shushed through the powdery snow, its swinging gait rolling underneath her. She clung to the warmth and movement as the cold sapped her with invisible mouths. There was nothing left in the world but the cold and the rhythm of the horse. In a small distant part of her mind Elaine wondered if she were freezing to death. No, she was so cold. Didn't you grow warm before you froze to death? The bones of her face and hands were more open to the air; they ached with cold.
She must have fallen asleep because the next she knew, they were struggling up a hillside. If they were in the hills, they had to be close. Elaine raised her head. She felt the wind smack her face, but it wasn't colder. She was already as cold as she could get. She couldn't open her eyes. She tried to raise a hand to touch them, but her hands seemed frozen to the mane. She settled for rubbing her eyelids against the back of her hands. Ice crystals had formed from the tears, gluing her eyelids together.
She blinked painfully into the winter dusk. They were in the forest. Bare, black-limbed trees surrounded them. The horses struggled through the blowing snow on what used to be a wagon track.
Elaine worked to sit up and found she could. The cloak blew backward, exposing one side of her body. It didn't seem to matter. She could see the great tree looming over the lesser trees. They were almost there.