The Winter Prince (The Lion Hunters:01)(53)

“We are vulnerable,” Agravain said sullenly, “to any beast or man that might choose to attack us.”

Lleu laughed again. “Oh, the bears are all asleep. We are safe enough by firelight, don’t you think, Medraut? I am no faultless marksman, but I have a steady hand. As to men, who were you expecting to meet in this wild wood, in dead of winter?”

“What do you mean to do now?” I asked quietly.

Lleu pulled up his hood and wrapped his cloak about him, the heat of his rebelt ofy"lion wearing thin. He propped his chin on his fists, with his elbows resting on his knees, and stared at the fire. “I don’t know where we are. You know that.” He spoke slowly, thinking. “I want you to guide me back across the moor we crossed today, back to Shivering Mountain, where I can find my own way. From there we will return to Camlan, and my father can charge you or forgive you as he sees fit.”

“You will need a better plan than that,” I said. “I am not turning back.”

“You are. You will.”

“Why? Will you kill me if I refuse your command?”

Lleu narrowed his eyes, staring at the fire as he realized his dilemma. He said slowly, “I can’t. Without you I am lost.”

I turned to Agravain sardonically. “You must admire his honesty.”

“Don’t mock me, Medraut!” Lleu cried. “You are at my mercy!”

I looked at him directly, shaking my head. “Not entirely. You are at mine, as well.”

This was so clear, so indisputable, that he did not argue. He sat in glaring silence for a few moments and presently asked, “What then? What will you do instead?”

“Two or three days south of here lies the road that runs to Ratae Coritanorum. If you follow it north it will lead you toward Shining Ridge, near Camlan. We will continue southward; and when we reach the road, if you are still free, you can turn home yourself. If not, we will take the road south.”

“If I am still free!” Lleu repeated. “Why shouldn’t I be?”

“How will you keep us from seizing you in your sleep; how will you remain in control of two who are stronger than you, by yourself, for as many days as it takes to reach your destination?”

Lleu turned from one to the other of us, his expression caught between a puzzled frown and a mask of mounting dismay at the thought of the ordeal that lay before him. “I will not sleep. I will guard you.”

“Your own strength may fail you by the time we reach the road,” I warned him.

“I see no other course,” he admitted.

He kept awake all night. Agravain slept soundly; but I woke every few hours, watching for a slip in Lleu’s guard, a flaw in his defense. That first night, there was none. He talked to the horses and sang to himself, and toward dawn he walked the perimeter of our campsite in thoughtful silence. There will be time, I told myself. Be patient with him. He will break himself before we reach the road.

It was gray again in the morning. While Agravain and I struck camp, Lleu stormed idly back and forth beneath the trees, driven with nervous energy. Once he tripped over a root hidden beneath the snow, and I dropped a pile of furs thinking to catch him off-guard. But he was on his feet before I could reach him: bruised and annoyed at his clumsiness, who was so light, so agile by nature. His eyes were bright and weary at the same time, alert and bloodshot. He kicked at the remains of the fire till the ashes flew about his feet like soft gray moths.

There was no sign that any other man or woman had ever set foot in this place. We still followed the same little river as it wound farther and farther south, but throughout the day we did not see a single cottage distant among the bare trees, or any kind of track through the forest. Lleu would not eat food that I prepared, wary lestredougho I try to poison him again. Determination made him bold; he shot two rabbits before evening fell, and skinned and dressed them himself. We had plenty to eat that night. But I was fast in the grip of fever and ate only toasted bread and dried fruit. I had no appetite for meat.

We camped in a little clearing and brushed aside the snow until we had an area large enough to spread our blankets and build a fire. After we had eaten we sat about the fire as we had the night before. Lleu set aside his bow and ceased to watch me as he cleaned his hunting knife; and so without warning I snatched for the dagger.

He slashed the knife beyond my reach, holding it away from his body like a torch. He held steady, not moving, eyeing me distrustfully. He knew that resistance kept him alert; he did not consider how it drained him.