On the third day, they broke through a patch of tangled underbrush and found the river Bataria spreading out in front of them, wide and frothy brown. Meltwater from upstream had clearly swelled it beyond its usual banks, and they made an early camp in a clear meadow well above the river’s edge. Winter helped Alex and Abraham set up their tent, impressed as usual with the speed and efficiency of the Haeta’s camp skills.
She’d gotten to know a few of them, despite the language barrier. Most of the Haeta understood quite a bit of Murnskai, but didn’t speak it as well as Leti and Vess, and seemed embarrassed to try. When she found herself standing watch or walking beside them, though, she tried to coax them to speak a little, and she tried to at least learn their names. There was Gina, beanpole thin and sharp-eyed; Yath, with her red hair and clever fingers, always working on complicated knots and braids; placid Ulli, with her lazy eye. They couldn’t tell her much about themselves, but she got a vague sense just by watching them at night. She found herself envying the easy camaraderie, the feeling of shared skill and shared danger.
She wondered, sometimes, if she’d have felt less apart if she’d been born among them. No need to put on a disguise to go into the army here. And either the “Tyrant’s Disease”—?the technical term, Cyte had taught her, for when women slept with other women—?was very common among them, or their standards were just... different. It was a pleasant fantasy, which Winter acknowledged was certainly no more than that. No doubt they have their own set of problems. Every one of these girls is going to go home and marry some man her priest has picked out. She was uncomfortably reminded of Jane, sold to Ganhide like a sack of meat. I hope it’s not that bad.
There was guilt there, too. We didn’t call them here. But the Haeta had come because of the Vordanai invasion, along with many others. We didn’t bring the blizzards. We didn’t unleash the Beast. But it was possible none of it would have happened if Janus had stayed south of the Ytolin.
Since they’d set up camp earlier than usual, the scouts had had a chance to range farther afield for food. They’d come back with a deer, assorted smaller game, and clusters of wild onion and mushrooms. The Haeta set to work with a will, skinning and gutting, and Winter left them to it. The best I can manage is army soup. Instead, she stood by the river, staring pensively at the distant far bank and trying to think.
“Winter.” Leti sounded hesitant, as though she didn’t want to intrude.
“It’s all right,” Winter said, beckoning her over. “I’m just trying to figure out what we do next.” She shook her head at the brown, rushing water. “The river isn’t normally this wide, is it?”
“No. In fall it can sometimes be only a trickle. But even in spring I have never seen it so deep.”
“I don’t suppose you know of a convenient ford nearby.”
Leti shook her head. “We crossed at one on the way south, but that was many miles to the east of here.” East was the way they’d come, where the Beast might be following. “In any case, I doubt it is passable with the water so deep.”
“We certainly can’t swim it,” Winter said. “And I wouldn’t trust any boat we could build in that.”
Leti nodded silently. Winter watched her for a moment, then looked back to the water. They always look to me for answers.
“We’ll follow the bank and head west,” she said, trying to sound authoritative. “What we really need is a small ship and someone to sail it. That way we can drop you off on the north bank and get ourselves downriver. There must be towns and villages along here, and we can bargain with them.”
“They are spread thin this far east, but yes,” Leti said.
I hope we find something sooner rather than later. Every day the Beast grew stronger. More immediately, Winter would feel a lot better when she was able to put distance between her and the red-?eyes behind them. Still, we’ve been lucky. We’d never have gotten this far without the Haeta.
“Winter,” Leti said again.
“Something wrong?”
“No.” The girl’s face scrunched up, and she took a deep breath.
Winter cocked her head. “What?”
“I thought...” Leti looked down. “Would you care to share my tent tonight?”
“Your...” That took a moment to sink in. “Oh.”
“I know you don’t share our ways,” Leti said quickly. “But I thought you might... like to try.”
Winter ran a hand through her hair—?it was getting longer than she liked, out here in the wilderness—?and stared at Leti. She was pretty, though Winter hadn’t thought about it much until now. Compact and athletic, with small breasts and lean muscles, dark hair pulled back in a short braid. Her eyes were wide and blue.
There’s no reason I shouldn’t. She and Cyte had never spelled out the parameters of their relationship, after all. And in all probability Winter would never see Cyte again—?even if she made it back to Vordan, she still had to confront the Beast, and one way or another she doubted she was coming back from that. So what’s the harm?
Logical, she supposed. And yet she didn’t find herself tempted. It wasn’t that Leti was too young—?there was only half a decade between them, after all—?or that she didn’t find her attractive, in the abstract, but—
“I’m sorry,” Winter said. “I appreciate the offer, but I can’t.”
“To be with another woman is so terrible for you?” Leti’s eyes shone with tears.
“It’s not that. I’m...” Taken? Married? “Promised. To someone else.”
Leti frowned. “But...” She stopped, shook her head. “Southerners are strange people.”
“I agree,” Winter said. “I hope I haven’t offended you.”
“No.” Leti shrugged, though her expression betrayed her casual tone. “You have every right to refuse. And perhaps it is for the best.”
“Maybe.” Winter looked back up the slope, sniffing the air. She patted Leti on the shoulder. “Come on. I smell dinner.”
*
The evening was a pleasant one, with plenty of food for once and a merry fire. Some of the Haeta danced while others sang and clapped along. Some, Winter couldn’t help but notice, slipped off in pairs to their tents. Leti retired early, alone, and as the sun sank down into the water of the Bataria, the girls who were left at the fire began to drift away to their own pursuits. Abraham had long since gone to sleep, and Alex, sitting in the dirt beside Winter, was yawning.
“I wish we had a better map,” Winter said. The one they’d brought from the Mountain showed only the rivers and a few major cities. “We could be walking for weeks before we find civilization.”
“Probably not weeks,” Alex said. “The Murnskai army has regular garrison posts along these rivers for courier traffic, though I have no idea if they’re still manned.”
“If not, let’s hope they’ve left their boats behind,” Winter said. “Even a sturdy rowboat would be something. We could take the Haeta over the river in shifts.”
“Better than staying on this side,” Alex agreed. She yawned again. “Coming to bed?”
“Not quite yet,” Winter said. “I want to think for a while.”
“Suit yourself.” Alex dug her elbow into Winter’s ribs. “Abraham told me one of the Haeta propositioned him in very unambiguous terms. He asked for my help telling her that she’s, ah, barking up the wrong tree.”