Masques (Sianim #1)(37)

His curiosity satisfied, Myr changed the subject. "I wish I knew how long this weather was going to last. We need to get some food, and I can't send the hunters out in this. They don't have the skills to hunt in the snow. Only two or three of them have the skills to hunt at all, and none are experienced with northern weather." As he spoke he paced back and forth restlessly.

"Don't worry so." Aralorn's tone was brisk. "If we starve, there is nothing that you can do about it. However, Sheen's not been getting much exercise lately and I'm not too bad with a bow. I also know how to set traps if we need to. Keep your hunters home, and I'll see what I can do for our larder."

Myr's face cleared. "If you would, I can put the hunting party to work hunting wood instead."

She hadn't intended to leave just then, but the relief on his face kept her from putting it off until afternoon. She recovered her gear from the storage tent, commandeered a pair of boots, and borrowed a crossbow and arrows from one of the erstwhile hunters.

* * *

SHEEN SNORTED AND DANCED WHILE SHE SADDLED HIM AND took off at a dead run when she was only half in the saddle, a dramatic departure that was met with ragged cheers and good-natured laughter. When she was able to pull him up and scold him, they were already headed up the main trail out of the valley.

It wasn't as difficult to navigate the mountain once they were out of the valley, as the harsh winds had swept the snow away from many places. The deep snow was usually avoidable, and when it wasn't, the heavy horse had little trouble forcing a way through.

There were few tracks in the snow. Aralorn wasn't familiar enough with the northern animals to know if they were waiting in shelter for the snow to melt - or if something else was keeping them away. Several miles away from the valley she stumbled upon tracks that she'd never seen before. The prints were several hours old and smeared hopelessly by the melting snow. Whatever it was, it was big - she found a branch as big around as her leg that the animal had snapped off a tree. She looked at the branch a minute and guided her nervous mount away from the thing's trail.

"Anything that big, Sheen, is bound to be too tough and stringy to make good eating. Besides, it would be a pain to drag the body back to camp." The big horse snorted at her and increased his speed.

Several hours later Aralorn wiped a gloved hand across her nose and squinted against the glare of the sunny, snow-covered meadow. The oiled boots that she'd found in the storage shed worked well to keep out the water. She appreciated them all the more for the fact that all of the rest of her was wet. The brush was laden with the heavy, wet snow, so that even riding she got drenched. There was a lot of undergrowth on the steep slope behind them. The sun had melted enough of the snow that water ran down everywhere to make the ground muddy and slick. To make matters worse, the light sneezes of this morning had turned into a full-blown, plaguing cold.

"You know, Sheen" - she patted his glossy neck, also somewhat damp - "I think that I would prefer it if it were really cold. At least that way we would be just chilly and not wet too."

She pushed a soggy strand of hair out of her face with a sigh. The sun was starting the trek toward its evening rest, and they hadn't seen so much as a rabbit. It was unusually bad luck. The camp was far enough away from commonly hunted areas that the game animals were unafraid of people. Just on the walk from the camp to the caves, Aralorn generally saw several deer. Today even the birds were scarce.

Maybe whatever large beastie that left its traces for her to find had scared off all of the prey. She hoped not. That would mean that it was probably something that people should be running from, too. She wished Wolf were here to tell her what it was. A grin caught her lip as she thought about what his response to being viewed as a rescuer of ladies in distress would be. The picture of herself as a lady in distress caused her smile to widen a bit. She still wished for his comforting presence.

Absently she looked at the meadow and admired the pristine beauty of the untouched snow that gleamed subtly with all the colors of a rainbow, more startling because of the dark, dense forest surrounding it. She was deciding whether it was worth crossing the meadow to the river that ran on the other side or if she ought to head back up the steep muddy path and start back to camp when she noticed that there was something odd about the peaceful meadow.

She stiffened at the same time that Sheen noticed them. "Yawan!" The filthy word described exactly the way she felt. Stupid, stupid to have missed them when in front of her, the whole meadow was moving slowly. The covering of deep snow completely masked their scent, or maybe the cold kept them from rolling. Whatever the case, not two feet in front of her a Uriah rose from its snowy bed. It wasn't the only one. There must have been at least a hundred of the defiled things, and though none of them were on their feet, their heads were turning toward her.

The path behind was no escape. The slick mud would slow Sheen much more than it would the Uriah. Cold slowed them, but not enough. The best ways to stop them were fire and running water. There were no fires around that she could see, but running water there was aplenty.

All this took less than a second to run through her head. She squeezed Sheen with her knees, and bless his warrior's heart he plowed right into the meadow filled with moving mounds of snow. The Uriah howled and Sheen redoubled his speed, leaping and dodging the creatures. One of them stood up, reaching for the reins. Aralorn shot it in the eye with a bolt from the crossbow; it reeled back but recovered enough to catch Aralorn's stirrup. Desperately she hit it hard with the butt of the crossbow, breaking the arm off the body at the shoulder. Sheen struck it with his hind feet as it fell.