"I'm fine," he said unconvincingly.
"You're hurt," Isinwen said, sounding worried.
"No," Kellen protested. But a deep breath brought a sudden soreness in his right side, and when he reached down, his fingers encountered roughness instead of the glassy smoothness of his armor's enameled surface.
He looked down. There were three long furrows across his ribs, where one of the Shadewalker's blows had come a little too close. He would have an excellent set of bruises to show for this encounter.
"Nothing that Allheal won't cure," Kellen said, feeling stronger now.
"You take too many chances," Isinwen said, a note of exasperation and relief in his voice.
Kellen nodded. There was nothing to say. He knew it was wrong to hazard himself this way when he was responsible for the lives of his entire force. But he also knew that no one else could do what he had done, and if he had not done it, his command would have perished.
"Go back to the convoy and bring them up. Pass the word that we will stop here long enough to drink tea. I could do with a cup myself," he added. He felt thirsty unusually so. Undoubtedly it was more of the aftermath of Water Mind. The floating state was a potent tool, but just like his own sword or dagger, it did not care what it harmed, and could destroy him as easily as an enemy.
Isinwen sent the others went back to their waiting destriers, and, with a last glance around the snowfield to make sure that no other danger lay in wait, followed. A few moments later six of the Knights mounted up and headed back toward the rest of the convoy. The rest settled down, spreading their cloaks to form a windbreak, and prepared to brew tea.
When they were thoroughly engaged in the activity, Shalkan trotted back to Kellen's side.
"Not that I had any doubts, of course, but it was interesting to watch," the unicorn said.
"Even more interesting to do," Kellen said, stretching tentatively.
He realized that the blood from the kill had frozen along the surface of his blade and sighed. It would take warm water and oil, then a session with a sharpening stone, before the blade was at its best again.
It took him three tries to summon Fire into the small block of charcoal that he laid inside his shield he could have gone and gotten Fire from Isinwen but it would have meant leaving Shalkan alone but once it was burning, it gave off enough heat to melt the ice beneath it sufficiently that he could begin to clean his sword. Once it was clean enough to sheath, Kellen tipped the charcoal out onto the ice and set the shield aside.
"There's something here you should see," Shalkan said, prodding at the body of the Shadewalker.
"What?" Kellen asked.
"Figure it out for yourself," Shalkan said, twitching his tail. "I'll be around."
Kellen sighed. It was awkward having to divide his time between Shalkan and the army, but there really wasn't any way for him to have specified that all members of his command be chaste virgins. It simply wasn't practical.
Keirasti and her troop rode out onto the ice-field, passing Isinwen and the others with a casual salute. She swung down off Orata's back and walked over to the body of the Shadewalker.
"That is a very ugly bear," she announced.
Kellen walked over to join her. "Shalkan said it was something called a Shadewalker."
"And it seems we are not the first to try its mettle recently," Keirasti continued. "It bears wounds of recent fighting sword wounds less than a sennight old, I judge."
She pointed.
"But… those are mine," Kellen said, dumbfounded.
He realized suddenly just how lucky he'd been to strike the fatal blow-that he had. The Shadewalker's earlier injuries had already partly healed by the time he'd struck the blow that killed it in fact, the first wound he'd given it was entirely gone. Even the deep cut to its foreleg was more than half healed.
The wounds Shalkan had given it were still raw and fresh, however, which made Kellen wonder. He knelt down beside it and investigated the body carefully, parting the fur to inspect the hide, and found several more wounds, these old enough to have healed over into angry raised knots in the Shadewalker's black skin.
"The scouts Redhelwar sent to Sentarshadeen came this way," he said.
"It is the main road to the King's city, and the fastest way," Keirasti said, puzzled at the seeming change of subject. "It is the way I would have gone, were I sent."
"Then they met this… thing," Kellen said. "And from the look of these wounds, they didn't get farther than this, either."
Fighting against an enemy who could heal anything but a mortal wound a hundred times faster than normal, the messengers must have been unable to kill it. And it had undoubtedly made sure to catch them in a place where their unicorn mounts couldn't simply outrun it. That trick would have worked again, on Kellen, if he and Shalkan had been a few seconds slower reaching the icefield.
Keirasti made a quick gesture over her heart. "Gone to Leaf and Star," she said quietly.
"But never again," Kellen said grimly.
THEY saw no further evidence of the Enemy in their descent from the Mystrals, which made Kellen brood over their continuing good fortune. Their losses continued to be light, but descending a mountain presented more hazards than going up one they lost wagons and teams of oxen down the sides of cliffs, along with supplies they could ill-afford to lose. It was up to Kellen to make the decisions that had to be made with the loss of supplies, and he chose to divert the remaining food, as much as possible, to the horses and oxen. The Knights could manage on shorter rations than their animals could, and Ondoladeshiron was less than a moonturn away now, depending on the weather.
But if the Enemy left them alone, the winter weather nearly made up for Their absence. Just after the army crossed the top of the peaks, the weather turned unexpectedly bad, making their descent through the mountains slow and miserable. Kellen and his Seconds pushed everyone as hard and as fast as they dared they had to get down out of the mountains before they froze, starved, or were simply buried in snow.
* * * * *
THAT'S it, Kellen thought, patting Firareth's neck. Leather glove met padded crinet-cover with a dull wet sound, but Firareth seemed pleased. I'm not going over those again not even at high summer.
It was early morning, barely light enough to tide. For a few hours, the Wildmages had promised them a break in the weather, and Kellen meant to take full advantage of it. For the last several days the army had been making its way through a series of mountain valleys, each indistinguishable from the last or the next. But now they could fairly say that the mountains were behind them at last.
And if Redhelwar was to follow them, the Army's General would have to take the same route and Redhelwar had most of the army's heavy equipment the large tents, the main horse herds and remounts, the Centaur cavalry. And half again as many souls to move.
But he'll have to move south to Ondoladeshiron. Five of the six Elven Cities that remain if Deskethomaynel and Windalorianan were evacuated are south of the Mystrals, and he has to be in a position to defend them if that's what Andoreniel decides to do. The only one north of the Mystrals is Ysterialpoerin, and the Elves won't leave that.
But that makes it such a perfect target…
Kellen sighed. He knew there was no point in worrying about that now. His job was to scout Halacira as a refuge for the families of the Elven Allies, and then go on to Sentarshadeen. And then, yes, report back to Redhelwar, which would probably mean crossing the Mystrals again though fortunately not with a full army this time. Fortunately, they didn't need the snow-sledge here on the plains, and their progress would be faster.
* * * * *
BUT after the first sennight, Kellen realized he had no choice but to send an advance party ahead to the city. They'd simply lost too much of their supplies crossing the mountains.
It was the hardest thing he'd ever had to do. He wanted to lead the advance party himself, and knew that as the commander he had to stay with the main force.
But to send them off alone, knowing that the relative peace of their journey so far might simply be a subtle trap of the Enemy, knowing the advance party might never reach Ondoladeshiron at all… who, could he send?
He agonized over his choice, knowing it was obvious. The party should be made up of Knights from the skirmishing units, used to traveling light and fast and fighting independently. Keirasti should be in command; he knew she'd lead them well. They'd need Reyezeyt, who was one of the best trackers he had.
No matter who he sent, he'd be sending friends.
But that's the problem, isn't it?
He was alone in his tent, looking down at the scroll that carried the tally of his command. Outside the wind howled, making the heavy fabric of the tent shudder. He huddled next to a single brazier, using a ball of Coldfire for light. Charcoal and lamp oil were only two of the things they were running out of, and everybody was sleeping four and five to a pavilion for warmth, but he'd needed to be alone right now. There was nobody he could really talk to about this, nobody who could make these decisions for him. Tomorrow he had to make the selections and send an advance party to Ondoladeshiron in hopes they could bring back supplies. He probably should have done it yesterday.