Fool’s Quest

“It’s easier for the horses to get up the bank down here.” Kerf was the one who answered me. And he was right. The cut banks eased down to a gentler slope, and we rode behind him in the tracks he’d probably made the night before. Once we were on level ground again, he began following his own tracks back.

“You’re taking us back the way we came!” Shun accused him.

“You were going in the wrong direction,” he responded calmly.

“How do I know that you’re not just taking us back to your camp, back to the other soldiers?”

“Because I’m not. I’m taking you back to your own people.”

For a time, we rode behind him in silence. It was discouraging to see how easily the horses moved through the snow that had so hampered us yesterday. A light wind had begun to blow, pushing a bank of gray clouds across the blue sky toward us. Midmorning, he cast a glance at the sky and turned the horses away from the trodden path. “Is this right?” I whispered to Shun. My heart sank when she replied, “I’m not sure. I’m turned around.”

Kerf glanced back at us. “I promise I’m taking you back to your people. I know it must be hard for you to trust me. But I am.”

The horses moved more slowly through the unbroken snow. We crossed the face of a hill to gain the top of it, and when we did, we looked down on a lightly forested meadow. In the distance, I saw a road, and beyond it, a small farmstead. Pale smoke was rising from the chimney and dispersing in the wind. I longed to go there, to beg to come inside and be warm and still for a time. As if he had heard my thought, Kerf said, “We have to avoid the roads and we cannot go through towns or stop at houses. Chalcedeans are not welcome in your land.” Again he turned his horse’s head, and we now followed him along the spine of the gently rolling range of hills.

The sun passed overhead and the clouds began to darken as the afternoon passed. Shun spoke aloud. “I don’t think we want to be on these hills if it starts to snow. And we’ve been riding all day. We should look for a place to stop soon, rather than ride until dark.”

He gave a sigh. “I’ve been soldiering for two years now. Trust me. I’ll find a good place for us to overnight. Remember, I’m taking you back to your people. You’ll be safe with them.” He pointed ahead of us and said, “Just there, where the evergreens are? We’ll go down into that valley for the night.” I looked at a forested hillside where rough stones jutted out of the snow among the trees. I finally grasped what had bothered me earlier.

I tugged at Shun’s coat and hitched myself closer to speak by her ear. “That night, everyone was screaming and fighting and running away. Why does he have two horses and everything he needs?”

“Not everything,” Shun muttered back. “No food supplies, no pans for cooking. I think he was just lucky to catch these two horses.”

“Maybe,” I agreed reluctantly. It began to snow, big flakes that clung to our coats and flew into my face. I put my face against Shun’s back. My face grew warmer, and the steady rhythm of the plodding horse tried to lull me to sleep. I felt a change in that rhythm and lifted my head. We were riding downhill now, threading our way between the trunks of big spruce trees. Here and there, stones stood up. It came to me that they were worked stone, as if walls and even buildings had once stood here. Our path meandered between the tumbled stones and the down-sweeping limbs of the trees. The snow was shallower here, but sometimes we brushed against one of the drooping branches and triggered a slide of snow.

“Not much farther now,” Kerf called back to us, and I felt grateful. I was so tired and sleepy. The trees were blocking most of what remained of the day’s light.

Then Shun stiffened in the saddle. “Not much farther to what?” she demanded.

He glanced back at us. “Your people,” he said.

I had one glimpse of firelight through the trees and then Shun pulled the horse around hard. I clung to her coat, nearly sliding off, as she kicked the horse and shouted, “Go, go, go!”

But it was too late. Their white coats had been almost invisible against the snow in the dimming light, but there they were. Two abruptly blocked the trail behind us and when Shun tried to rein the horse aside, Reppin jumped and seized its bridle. Shun tried to ride her down but the brown snorted and half-reared and then I was torn free of my grip on Shun’s coat as another White seized me and pulled me from the horse. “I have him! I have the shaysim!” Alaria shouted.

“Don’t hurt him!” Dwalia commanded, coming toward us. Shun was screaming and kicking at the lurik who held the brown horse’s head, and Kerf was shouting at her, “Be calm! You’re safe now! I’ve brought you back to your people!”

“You bastard!” she shouted at him. “You treacherous wretch! I hate you! I hate all of you!” She tried once more to stir the horse, but Kerf had dismounted and was tugging at her, saying, “What is the matter? You’re back with your people, you’re safe now!”