Douglas Niles - The Kinslayer Wars

Now that they had reached this forested valley, Sithas had been able to rig a splint for Kith-Kanan’s wound.

Nevertheless, it galled the leader of the Wildrunners, who had always handled his own problems, to sit here in forced immobility while his brother, the Speaker of the Stars, did the hunting, wood-gathering, and exploration, as well as the simpler jobs like fire-tending and cooking.

“This is truly amazing, Sithas,” Kith said, indicating their rude shelter. “All the comforts of home.”

The cave was shallow, perhaps twenty feet deep, with a ceiling that rose almost five feet. Several dense clumps of pines and cedars grew within easy walking distance.

“Comforts,” Sithas agreed. “And even a palace guard!

One-Tooth looked attentive, sensing that they were talking about him. He grinned again, though the juice dribbling from his huge lips made the effect rather grotesque.

“I have to admit, when you first told me that I was going to ride a giant, I thought the cold had penetrated a little too far between your ears. But it worked!”

They had set up a permanent camp here, agreeing tacitly between them that without Arcuballis they were stuck in these mountains at least for the duration of the winter.

Of course, they were haunted by awareness of the distant war. They had discussed the nature of Sithelbec’s defenses and concluded that the humans probably wouldn’t be able to launch an effective assault before summer. The stout walls ought to stand against a long barrage of catapult attacks, and the hard earth would make tunneling operations difficult and time-consuming. All they could do now was wait and hope.

Sithas had gathered huge piles of pine boughs, which made fairly comfortable beds. A fire built at the mouth of the cave sent its smoke billowing outward, but radiated its impressive heat throughout their shelter. It made the cave into a very pleasant shelter, and—with the presence of One-tooth—Sithas no longer feared for his brother’s safety if he had to be left alone. They both knew that soon enough, Sithas would have to set out on foot to seek the griffons. Now they sat in silence, sharing a sense of well-being that was quite extraordinary, given the circumstances. They had shelter and warmth, and now they even had extra food! Lazily Sithas rose and checked his boots, careful not to singe their fur-covered surface. He turned them slightly to warm a different part of their soggy surface. Immediately steam began to arise from the soaked leather. He returned to his spot and flopped down on his own cloak. He looked at his brother, and Kith-Kanan sensed that he wanted to say something.

“I think you’ve got enough food here to last you for a while,” Sithas began.

“I’m going to search for the griffons.”

Kith nodded. “Despite my frustration with this—” he indicated his leg—“I think that’s the only thing to do.”

“We’re near the heart of the range,” Sithas continued, with a nod. “I figure that I can head out in one direction, make a thorough search, and get back here within a week or ten days. Even with the deep snow, I’ll be able to make some progress. I’ll stop back and check on you and let you know what I’ve found. If it’s nothing, I’ll head out in a different direction after that.”

“Sounds like a reasonable plan,” Kith-Kanan agreed. “You’ll take the scroll from Vedvedsica, of course.”

Sithas had planned on this. “Yes. If I find the griffons, I’ll try to get close enough to use the spell.”

His brother looked at him steadily. Kith-Kanan’s face showed an expression Sithas was not accustomed to. The injured elf spoke. “Let me do something before you go. It might help on your journey.”

“What?”

Kith wouldn’t explain, instead requesting that his brother bring him numerous supple pine branches—still green, unlike the dried sticks they used for firewood.

“The best ones will be about as big around as your thumb and as long as possible.”

“Why? What do you want them for?”

His brother acted mysterious, but Sithas willingly gathered the wood as soon as daylight illuminated the valley. He spent the rest of the day gathering provisions for the first leg of his trek, checking his own equipment, and stealing sidelong glances at his brother. Kith-Kanan pretended to ignore him, instead whittling away at the pine branches, weaving them into a tight pattern, even pulling threads from his woolen cloak to lash the sticks together firmly. Toward sunset, he finally held the finished creations up for Sithas’s inspection. He had made two flat objects, oval in shape and nearly three feet long by a foot wide. The sticks had been woven back and forth into a grid pattern.

“Wonderful, Kith—simply amazing. I’ve never seen anything like them! But ... what are they?”

Kith-Kanan smiled smugly. “I learned about them during that winter I spent in the Wildwood.” For a moment, his smile tightened. He couldn’t remember that time without thinking of Anaya, of the bliss they had shared, and of the strange fate that had claimed her. He blinked and went on. “They’re called ‘snowshoes’.”

Instantly Sithas saw the application. “I lash these to my boots, right?” he guessed. “And then walk around, leaving footprints in the snow like a giant?”

“You’ll be surprised, I promise. They’ll let you walk on top of the snow, even deep powder.”

Indeed, Sithas wasted no time pulling on his boots and affixing the snowshoes to them with several straps Kith had created by tearing a strip from one of their cloaks. He tripped and sprawled headlong as he left the cave but quickly dusted himself off and started into the woods on a test walk. Though the snowshoes felt somewhat awkward on his feet and forced him to walk with an unusually wide-spread gait, he trotted and marched and plodded through the woods for nearly an hour before returning to the cave.

“Big feet!” One-Tooth greeted him outside, where he had left the giant.

“Good feet!” Sithas replied, reaching up to give the giant a friendly clap on the arm.

Kith awaited him expectantly.

“They’re fantastic! I can’t believe the difference they make!” Kith was forced to admit, as he looked at his exhilarated brother, that Sithas no longer seemed to need the assistance of anyone to cope with the rigors of the high mountain winter.

Determined to begin his quest well rested, Sithas tried to force himself to sleep. But though he closed his eyes, his mind remained alert. It leaped from fear to hope to anticipation in a chaotic whirling dance that kept him wide awake as the hours drifted past. He heard One-Tooth snoring at the cave mouth and saw Kith slumbering peacefully on the other side of the fire. Finally, past midnight, Sithas slept. And when he did, his dreams were rich and bright, full of blue skies swarming with griffons. * * * * * Yellow eyes gleamed in the woods, staring at the fading fire in the mouth of the cave. The dire wolf crept closer, suppressing the urge to growl.

The creature saw and smelled the hill giant slumbering at the mouth of the cave. Though the savage canine was huge—the size of a pony, weighing more than three hundred pounds—it feared to attack the larger hill giant. Too, the fire gave it pause. It had been burned once before, and remembered well the terrifying touch of flame.

Silently the wolf slinked back into the woods. When it was safely out of hearing of the cave, it broke into a patient lope, easily moving atop the snow. But there was food in the cave. During the lean winter months, fresh meat was a rare prize in this mountain fastness. The wolf would remember, and as it roamed the valleys, it would meet others of its kind. Finally, when the pack had gathered, they would return.