"Then the Knight-Mage believes there is a chance for victory," Ashaniel said, resting her hand lightly against her stomach.
"One thing Kellen has never done well is evade the truth. It is wholly entertaining to watch him try. The Wild Magic speaks to him. If he believed anything other than what he has said, I would know. And I would not have come to see you at all."
His words caused Ashaniel to go completely still for a moment. Then she smiled the first genuine peaceful smile Jermayan had seen since he had entered her chamber.
"Then fare you well, Jermayan, and a swift and serene journey to you. May our victory come swiftly, and at a price no higher than any of us can bear."
"May Leaf and Star grant that it be so," Jermayan said, getting to his feet.
* * * * *
SANDALON escorted him through the labyrinthine corridors of the Fortress of the Crowned Horns. In contrast to his earlier silence, the boy chattered along now, pointing out landmarks of his games and now talking about friends and playfellows.
"Aralmar is very slow. She is in my group we're the Badgers but she never hides fast enough, and Master Tyrvin says we are not to help each other hide lest we be caught ourselves."
He looked at Jermayan questioningly.
"I suppose if those are Master Tyrvin's orders, you must obey them. He was my master once, and he is very wise. Still, if you can help Aralmar so that she can hide faster, and keep anyone from catching you at it, that would be a very clever thing to do. And since Master Tyrvin is teaching you to be clever, it would be hard for him to object."
Sandalon beamed, and even skipped a few steps. Then he slowed again. "Mama is very sad," he said.
"I think perhaps she will be less sad now," Jermayan said. He only hoped Kellen never found out that he'd told Ashaniel that they were going to win because Kellen said they were going to win. He wasn't entirely certain how Kellen would react.
"Because we're " Sandalon began excitedly, then managed to stop. "I mean, it would be good to know how much longer we'll have to remain here."
"I'm sorry, Sandalon," Jermayan said. "I truly don't know."
* * * * *
SANDALON stopped before a familiar door. "I will leave you here, of your courtesy," he said, with carefully-acquired manners.
"I thank you for your company on the way," Jermayan answered, equally formally. He waited until the boy was out of sight before knocking at Master Tyrvin's door.
After a moment, Tyrvin opened it. "Enter and be welcome," he said, stepping aside to allow Jermayan to pass.
"I will not keep you overlong," Tyrvin said without preamble, "for I am certain Ancaladar will not thank me for it. Yet I will be grateful for all that you wish to tell."
Jermayan bowed in acknowledgment. "You will rejoice, I am certain, to know that you will only see me once more. I fly once from Ysterialpoerin, and then you may seal the Fortress until our victory."
"I do not doubt this to be a matter much upon Ashaniel's mind," Tyrvin commented.
"I hope I brought her comfort. I could say to her only what I have said to you, and what Kellen Knight-Mage has said to Redhelwar: that he believes we may prevail."
"Let our victory come before high summer, then," Tyrvin said bluntly. "We are adequately provisioned, but we cannot hold out past that. And from all you have told me of what roams the land, it will not be possible to resupply us."
Jermayan shook his head in reluctant agreement. "No supply caravan can reach you safely overland, even in the spring. The Coldwarg will retreat with the snows, but They have other creatures who do not fear the warmth. And you will not dare to unbar your doors lest any who come be the Enemy in disguise."
"True enough," Tyrvin said. "You and Ancaladar I know cannot be impersonated by Them. But few others."
There was a long moment of silence, filled with the things neither Knight wished to say aloud.
"You must go now," Tyrvin said at last. "I will walk you to the gate."
* * * * *
"BRIEF, were you?" Ancaladar scoffed. He got to his feet and fanned his wings, shaking nonexistent drifts of snow from them.
"As brief as was suitable," Jermayan said. He brushed crusted snow from the stirrup and vaulted into Ancaladar's saddle, pulling the riding-straps into place with the ease of long practice.
Ancaladar lumbered through the snow, bounding down the long slope that led away from the Fortress, his wings folded tightly against his back as he built up speed. Snow and shards of ice-crust sprayed up around him to either side in wide fans.
When he was running flat-out, he spread his wings with a sudden snap, and was pulled from the ground. For the first few yards, the dragon struggled for height, wings fanning, but then he found the wind he'd been seeking and gained height quickly in a series of sharp zig-zagging motions, until he'd reached what he considered a safe height above the ground.
"And now?" Ancaladar asked, once he was soaring smoothly through the sky.
"Ysterialpoerin," Jermayan answered. "But I wish to go to the camp first, and speak to Redhelwar."
"And Idalia," the dragon said smugly.
* * * * *
KELLEN'S scouts had brought more reports of plague in the days that followed, until he ordered his scouts to stay away from settlements entirely. He dared not risk losing any of his troops to sickness out here in the cold waste, especially with the mountains still to cross.
They lost a fortnight camped at the foot of the Mystrals as a winter storm raged over them. To attempt to ascend the mountains in such weather would be
purest suicide, but though the delay was unavoidable, it gnawed at Kellen's nerves. At least they'd be able to stop at Ondoladeshiron to resupply, and to get out of the weather for a day or so, and from there the journey to Halacira and on to Sentarshadeen should be fairly easy going. The weather should be milder too, at least by comparison.
At last the weather broke, and the army moved on.
When they entered the mountains, Kellen rode far ahead of everyone, for Shalkan, sure-footed as a mountain goat and light-footed as only a unicorn could be, blazed the trail through the passes for the snow-sledge to follow. The unicorn was able to tell where the ice would bear the weight of the carts and horses, and where it would crack and fissure, trapping the heavy, slow-moving oxen. The two of them searched the slopes above for the treacherous, precariously-balanced weights of snow that might at any moment cascade into a deadly snow-spill, crushing men and animals beneath tons of snow and ice.
Most of all, both Knight-Mage and unicorn strained their senses to detect the Enemy's creatures. The high cold realms were their natural habitat, and the narrow mountain passes were the perfect spot for an ambush.
* * * * *
"ARE you sure this is the smartest thing we've ever done?" Kellen asked, trying to keep the uneasiness out of his voice.
It was their seventh day in the mountains, and so far they had encountered no living things at all. Kellen distrusted the quiet; in his time with the army, he had gained the soldier's dislike of too much good fortune. It always seemed to mean that some particularly bad stroke of luck was about to fall.
And so far, they'd been far too lucky. Only a few cases of frost-burn, some snow-dazzle, and a bit of mountain-sickness, all of which the Wildmages all from the High Reaches had warned him to expect. They'd run out of fresh meat during the storm, but they still had enough provisions to make Ondoladeshiron.
Much too easy, Kellen thought grimly. And I know They know we're here. Why aren't They trying to stop us?
He had the sense that Their attention was elsewhere, that They weren't paying attention to him because They felt They didn't need to. Either Their attacks and defenses had been put into place long ago, or They were concentrating Their attentions on something They thought was far more important than destroying a third of the Elven Army.
And if that was the case, Kellen desperately wanted to know what it was.