The pillars of creation

It was exhausting traveling in such conditions and it seemed like the foul weather would never relent, but then it did. Late in the afternoon, as the wind finally died, allowing the quiet of winter to settle back in, they came across a woman struggling along one of the roads. As they rode up behind her, Jennsen saw that the woman was carrying something heavy.

Even though the weather had begun to break, fat snowflakes still drifted in the air. Sun shone through an orange slash in the clouds, lending the gray day a peculiar gilding.

The woman heard them coming and stepped aside. As they reached her, she held one arm up.

"Help me, please?"

It looked to Jennsen like the woman was carrying a small child all bundled up in blankets.

By the look on Sebastian's face, Jermsen feared that he intended to pass on by. He would say that they couldn't stop when they had killers and maybe even Wizard Rahl at their heels. Jennsen felt confident that, for the time being at least, they had succeeded in slipping away from their hunters.

When Sebastian cast her a sidelong glance, she spoke softly before he had a chance to say anything. "Looks like the Creator has provided for this needy woman by sending us to help her."

Whether Sebastian was convinced by her words, or dared not challenge the Creator's intentions, Jennsen didn't know, but he drew his horse around to a halt. As he dismounted and took the reins to both horses, Jennsen slid down off Rusty. She struggled through heavy knee-deep snow to reach the woman.

She held out her bundle, apparently hoping it would explain everything. She looked as if she were ready to accept help from the Keeper himself. Jennsen drew back the flap of bleached wool blanket and saw a boy, maybe three or four, with a blotchy red face. He was still. His eyes were closed. He was burning up with fever.

Jennsen lifted the burden from the woman's arms. The woman, about Jermsen's age, looked exhausted. She hovered close, worry creasing her face.

"I don't know what's taken him," the woman said, on the verge of tears. "He just came down sick."

"Why are you out here in the weather?" Sebastian asked.

"My husband went off hunting two days ago. I don't expect him back for several days more. I couldn't just wait there with no help."

"But what are you doing out here?" Jennsen asked. "Where are you going?"

"To the Raug'Moss."

"The what?" Sebastian asked at Jennsen's back.

"Healers," Jennsen whispered to him.

The woman's fingers traced their way along her boy's cheek. Her eyes rarely left his little face, but she finally looked up.

"Can you help me get him there? I fear he's getting worse."

"I don't know if we-"

"How far are they?" Jennsen asked, cutting Sebastian off.

The woman pointed down the road. "That way, the way you're going. Not far."

"How far?" Sebastian asked.

The woman, for the first time, began to weep. "I don't know. I had hoped to make it by tonight, but it will be dark before long. I fear it's farther than I can manage. Please, help me?"

Jennsen rocked the sleeping boy in her arms as she smiled at the woman. "Of course we'll help you."

The woman's fingers clutched Jennsen's ann. "I'm sorry to trouble you.»

"Hush, now. A ride is no trouble."

"We can't leave you out here with a sick child," Sebastian agreed. "We'll take you to the healers."

"Let me get up on my horse, and then hand your boy up to me," Jennsen said as she returned the child to his mother's arms.

Once mounted, Jennsen stretched her arms down. The woman hesitated, fearing to part with her child, but then quickly handed him up. Jennsen settled the sleeping boy in her lap, making sure he was well balanced and secure, as Sebastian clasped arms with the woman and helped lift her up behind him. As they started out, the woman held Sebastian tight around the waist, but her eyes were on Jennsen and the boy.

Jennsen took the lead to give the woman the assurance of being able to see the stranger who now held her baby, and her hopes. She urged Rusty ahead through the deep snow, worried that the child was not really sleeping, but unconscious with fever.

The wind billowed snow around them as they raced along the road in the fading light. Concern for the boy, wanting to get him to help, made the road seemed endless. Each rise revealed only more forest ahead, each curve in the road yet another sweep of empty woods. Jennsen was concerned, too, that their horses couldn't be pushed so hard through deep snow without a rest or they would drop. Sooner or later, despite the fading light, they would have to slow to give the struggling horses a rest.

Jennsen looked back over her shoulder when Sebastian whistled.

"That way," the woman called, gesturing toward a cutoff to a smaller trail.