“Then I guess you’ll learn fast.” Stefan hefted her onto the saddle. “Just stay on. I’ll lead your horse.”
She nodded, her heart pounding. This was much higher off the ground than she’d expected. She grabbed the saddle horn.
Stefan mounted his horse, and they moved at a slow trot along the ridge. Brody ran in front of them, then shifted into an eagle and soared into the air. He soon disappeared from view as he went in search of Rupert.
After a while, the path from the valley merged with the path on the ridge. Brigitta glanced back to see the camp in disarray.
As the path curved to the left, she lost all sight of the valley. She was now surrounded by rocks and scraggly trees.
“This is one of the few mountain passes into Norveshka,” Stefan explained as the path grew more steep and narrow.
Soon the horses slowed to a walk as they eased along a cliff. Brigitta glanced to the side and winced. That was a long drop down. She could hear the sound of rushing water in the distance.
“There’s a waterfall ahead,” Stefan called back. “It feeds into the stream close to where you camped.”
“How far to the border?”
“It’s about a mile up from the waterfall. At the highest point of…” Stefan’s voice faded as the sound of rushing water grew louder.
They rounded a bend, and the noise was thunderous. Water shot through a hole in the mountainside, sending mist into the air. Stefan slowed their horses even more, since the path was damp in places. Brigitta was curious how far the water fell before crashing into rocks, but didn’t dare look down into the gorge for fear she would fall.
The path continued its upward climb and became more dangerous, riddled with rocks and boulders, as if nature itself were warning them to turn back. At times, she had to bend completely over, her nose against the horse’s neck, for an outcropping of granite would jut over the path. The wind whistled through the pass, making her shiver in her damp clothes.
Up and up they climbed till finally they reached the top, their horses easing through a narrow gap, surrounded on each side by walls of granite. As they emerged onto a promontory, Brigitta gasped.
It was a world she’d never imagined. A high mountain valley stretched before her with a green pasture surrounded by thick forests and mountain peaks covered with snow. In the distance, the green pasture turned white and barren, and geysers of hot water shot into the air.
Green vibrant life, then the white ash of death. The juxtaposition of beauty and horror was startling.
“Welcome to Norveshka,” Stefan said.
A screech sounded overhead, and Brigitta glanced up. A dragon was circling far above them, its scales gleaming purple and green in the sun.
“They know we’re here,” Stefan muttered. He directed their horses down the path, and they descended into the valley.
The path cut through the middle of the valley with a rushing stream to their right. The air was a bit chilly, but at least the bright sun was drying out her clothes.
Stefan pointed at the stream. “This meets up with another stream at the head of the valley, then goes through the rock wall to become the waterfall we saw earlier.”
She twisted in the saddle, looking around. They seemed to be alone in the valley, except for the dragon watching them overhead. “Why can’t we see Rupert ahead of us? And where did Brody go?”
Stefan slowed to a stop. “Of course.”
“Of course, what?”
“Rupert knows he’s a target. He’ll stay hidden and take to the high ground. This valley is too exposed.” Stefan glanced back at the promontory at the head of the valley. “If One and Two go through the pass, they’ll see us. Come on.”
He led their horses across the stream, then headed for the forested slope along the south side of the valley. As the horses trotted, Brigitta winced as her rump bounced painfully against the saddle.
After they reached the shelter of the forest, Stefan dismounted. “Wait here.”
“Where would I go?” she muttered, shifting her weight.
Stefan snapped off the branch of a bush, then ran back to the stream and erased the tracks left by their horses on the muddy riverbank. When he rejoined her, he tossed the branch to the ground, then remounted.
Brigitta gritted her teeth as they continued on and on down the valley, weaving through the trees. An occasional breeze stirred the trees and ruffled the ferns, and she shivered, since her clothes were still slightly damp. With the leafy canopy blocking most of the sun, a chill began to set in her bones. Every now and then, beneath the shade of a tree, she spotted a small pocket of snow. Brr, no wonder she was cold.
The ground was thick with fallen leaves and pine needles, so their horses made little sound. Far above them, she heard the occasional screech of the dragon. Was it still watching them?
Stefan suddenly stopped and quirked his head, as if straining to listen. Then he dismounted and eased toward the edge of the woods.
Brigitta managed to slip off her horse. Ouch. She hobbled toward him, her legs and rump objecting to being on a horse for several hours. She hunched down next to Stefan and peered around a bush.
Captain Mador and General Tarvis had reached the Norveshki valley, their mounts galloping down the path next to the stream. The dragon screeched overhead, and Mador shouted back, his voice echoing through the valley. Tarvis yelled, too, shaking his spear at the dragon.
“Fools,” Stefan muttered, then motioned for her to follow him back to the horses.
A powerful wind shot down the valley, shaking the trees. Was a storm coming, or was that Rupert? Had he noticed the arrival of One and Two?
Brigitta shivered. “Can we walk for a while?”
“It will slow us down.”
“I think the exercise will help warm me up.”
He sighed. “Fine. I have to admit that I’m starving. It must be past noon now.” He fumbled around in a saddlebag and retrieved a wineskin and two apples.
They ate and drank as they walked the horses through the woods. Luckily, the wind seemed to have died down. They fed two more apples to the horses.
“How is Fallyn doing?” Stefan asked.
“Very well,” Brigitta replied. “Do you think Rupert will actually kill a dragon?”
Stefan shook his head. “I don’t know. It’s not like him to kill for no good reason. I’m sure he couldn’t care less about avenging your brother.”
She thought back to how Gunther had referred to his need for revenge. Had that inflamed Rupert’s own yearning for revenge? “Rupert caused the storm, didn’t he?”
Stefan nodded. “If he gets upset, his emotions can create some powerful winds. But I believe today’s storm was intentional, so he could escape without being ambushed.”
“So there have been times when it wasn’t intentional?”
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