I opened my eyes. It was deep night. Through the droop of my hood and the screen of the roots, I saw flames. I blinked and it was a little campfire by the edge of the stream. A spitted bird carcass was propped over the flames. I had never smelled anything so delectable. Then the silhouette of a man passed between me and the flames. A Chalcedean soldier. They’d found us.
I could have slipped quietly from our den and very slowly crept away but instead I put my hand into Shun’s hood and softly patted her lips, and then covered her mouth more fully as she came awake. She struggled for an instant and then abruptly stilled. I made no sound as she pushed her hood back from her face. The firelight reached to paint stripes of shadow on her face as she stared. She leaned over and put her mouth to my ear. “It’s Kerf. The one that said he would help us.”
Caution, Wolf-Father warned.
“I don’t trust him,” I breathed back.
“Nor I. But he has food.”
She tried to be quiet as she pushed her feet out of her coat, but Kerf turned toward us. “I know you’re there. Don’t be scared. I’ve come to take you home. Back to your family. Come out and eat something.”
His voice was deep and gentle, despite his accent. Oh, how I wanted to believe him. But Shun gave me a small push to show that she could go first. She pushed past our root curtain and then stood straight. “I’ve a knife,” she lied. “If you even try to touch me, I’ll kill you.”
“I’m not like that,” he assured her. “I don’t rape women.”
She gave a short, ugly laugh. “You’re saying you’re not a Chalcedean? Or that you’re not a man?” Her words were edged. Oh, I didn’t want her to make him angry. Couldn’t we pretend we trusted him until after we’d eaten that bird?
“I am both,” he admitted. His laugh was uglier, bitter, and old. “Though my father might agree with you. He says I stayed too long with my mother, that I should have been removed from her care when I was seven, like his other sons. But he was away at the wars, and so she kept me until I was fourteen. Neither she nor I was happy to see him come home.” He was quiet for a time. He went down on one knee by the spit and turned it a bit. “For five years, I have shamed and disappointed him. He sent me off with my brother, on this raid, to make a man of me.” Kerf shook his head.
He was not looking at us, and Shun made a small motion, bidding me come out of the den. I did, moving softly, and stood well back in the shadows. “I’m going to fetch more wood and build up the fire,” he told us, and walked away into the night. We heard a horse snort and stomp. He spoke to it and walked on. Shun made a brief run and leapt the stream. I followed her immediately.
She knelt by the fire. “I don’t think it’s cooked yet.”
“I don’t care,” I replied.
She took the spit off the fire and waved the bird about to cool it a bit. It flew off the spit and into the snow. I sprang on it, picked it up, and tore it in half. Some parts were too hot, some were cold from the snow, and some were raw. We ate it standing, making small huffing noises as we hit the hot places. I could hear Shun swallow, and the cartilage crackling in her teeth as she ate the ends off the bones. It was not a large bird and was too soon gone but I found myself panting with relief at the easing of my hunger. “The horse,” Shun said. I didn’t want to leave the fire but I knew she was right. I felt not a morsel of shame for eating his food and stealing his horse. I followed Shun to where we had heard the animals. After the firelight, it took a moment for my eyes to adjust. Two horses. A brown one and a white one, both hobbled. Their saddles were stacked nearby. I looked at Shun. I’d never saddled a horse before. Nor removed hobbles.
“Be careful,” I whispered as she crouched down by the white horse’s front legs. I saw her groping for the straps.
“I can’t feel how they come off.”
“Take off your mittens.” I was struggling with one of the saddles. I could barely lift it to drag it. How would I get it up on the horse’s back?
“Do they tie?”
“No. They buckle.” Kerf spoke from just behind us. “Let me put the wood by the fire and I’ll unhobble them. If you truly want to go riding off into the dark.”
We froze as we were. I felt only a little ashamed. Shun straightened up. “I won’t be in your debt. You were in league with those who stole us. So we owe you nothing for your righting the wrong done to us.”
“I know that.” He walked to the fire and dropped the wood. He crouched and carefully added a stick. He appeared not to notice that we’d eaten the bird he’d been cooking. “I’m here for one reason. To take you back to your people.”
“And you expect no favors from me for your ‘kindness’?” Shun asked sarcastically.