We waited around our fire, cold in a way that the flames could not warn. Eventually, our hunters came back with two thin winter rabbits and drawn faces. They had not been assaulted, but the soldiers had followed them, speaking about what they might do to them in whispers just loud enough to reach their ears. Thrice they had scared off game just as the hunters let their arrows fly.
I waited as long as I could, but eventually I had to relieve myself. I went to Shun, who was very annoyed but in just as desperate a circumstance. We went together, looking over our shoulders, until we found a slightly more private spot. I still pantomimed pissing standing up before joining her and crouching in the snow. I was getting better at it. I no longer peed on the backs of my boots. We had both finished and were refastening our clothing when a shadow moved. Shun sucked in her breath to scream.
“Don’t,” he said softly, more a plea than a command. He came a step closer and I could make out in the gathering dusk that he was the young soldier who had been making cow eyes at Shun since we had left Withywoods. He spoke quickly, softly. “I just wanted to tell you, I’ll protect you. I’ll die before I let anyone hurt you. Or her.”
“Thank you,” I said as softly, preferring to believe he spoke to me rather than Shun.
I could not read his eyes in the dimness but I saw a smile twitch his mouth. “Nor will I betray your secret,” he said, and then he stepped back into the shadow of the evergreens. We stayed where we were for some time, before we both cautiously approached that grove of trees. No one was there.
“He’s spoken to me before,” Shun admitted. I looked at her wide-eyed. “Several of the soldiers have spoken to me. Just as they whisper vile things to the pale people when they take them food or gather their dishes.” She stared off into the darkness where he might have gone. “He is the only one who has said anything kind.”
“Do you believe him? What he said?”
She looked at me. “That he will protect us? One against so many? He can’t. But knowing that he thinks he might have to protect us from his fellows tells me that he knows something bad is coming.”
“We all knew that,” I said quietly. We walked back to the camp. I wanted to take her hand, to hold on to someone, but I knew she wouldn’t welcome it.
Dusk was falling when Ellik and his men returned. Dwalia gave a wild gasp of relief when she saw that Vindeliar was with them and appeared intact. The saddle-packs on all the horses were bulging, and Ellik’s companions were laughing and shouting to their fellows before they reached the fire. “We’ve plundered a town in daylight, and not a soul the wiser!” one called, and that brought the men around the fires scrambling to see what they had.
From their packs they took bottles of wine and rich foods, hams and loaves of bread studded with currants and swirled with spices, smoked fish and winter apples. “In broad daylight!” I heard one man say, and another, as he swirled a homespun dress in the air, “Took it right off her and she stood like a cow waiting to be milked! Had a feel or two, but no time for anything more! And when we walked away, her husband took her arm and they walked off through the town without a backward glance!”
Dwalia’s jaw dropped open in horror. I thought it was at what the man had said but then I followed her gaze. Vindeliar still sat his horse beside a grinning Ellik. The fog man wore an uncertain half-smile, a necklace of pearls, and a fur hat. A brightly figured scarf swathed his neck, and his hands were gloved in red leather with tassels. As we watched, one of the men who had ridden with him slapped him on the thigh and told him, “This is just the beginning!” Vindeliar’s smile broadened and became more certain.
That broke Dwalia’s resolve, I think. “Vindeliar! Remember the path! Do not stray from what has been seen!” she shouted at him.
Ellik wheeled his horse and rode it right up to her, pushing her back until she stumbled and nearly fell into the fire.
“He’s mine now! Don’t speak to him!”
But the smile had faded from Vindeliar’s plump face and he watched in dismay as Ellik leaned down to backhand Dwalia. She did not move but accepted the blow. Courage, or did she fear worse if she avoided it?
Ellik stared down at her for a moment until she lowered her eyes. Then he rode back to his own fire, announcing, “Tonight we feast! And tomorrow, another test of our fine friend’s abilities!”
Some of the Servants were staring hungrily and longingly at the soldiers’ camp. As Ellik dismounted, his men offered him the best of the loot. For a time, a stricken Vindeliar looked toward our camp like a dog that longs to return to its familiar kennel. Then Ellik’s men surrounded him, handing him an opened bottle of wine and a sweet cake. A moment later he was down and one of his riding companions had thrown a familiar arm across his shoulders and drawn him into the thick of their comradeship. I recalled a dream I had had, of a beggar sucked down and drowned in a whirlpool of jewels and food.