Edith Pattou - Hero's Song

The weather was cold and overcast, but it stayed dry. Their journey began to take on a sameness as they rode all day and into the night, sleeping for only a few hours before setting out again.

Collun began to feel an increasing sense of urgency. Though he dreaded reaching their destination, he pushed forward relentlessly.

On the morning of the fifth day of their journey, Collun awoke from an uneasy sleep. Brie had already risen and kindled a fire. They had taken shelter in a deserted Scathian village. Collun's eyes nervously scanned the dark shapes of the buildings, indistinct and eerie in the dim light of dawn. He could see his breath. He held his hands over the fire Brie had made. They had not yet begun using the fur-lined cloaks Mealladh had given him, but Collun could tell the time was fast coming.

Brie poured him a cup of hot chicory sweetened with a splinter of chocolate Mordu had supplied. Collun took it from her gratefully, breathing in the steam that rose from it. As he took his first sip, Collun heard the call of a bird. Then he realized what it was that had awakened him. His body tensed. A scald-crow.

TWENTY-THREE

The Blizzard

There was only one bird, but it had spotted them. It circled several times, with each circle dipping lower and tighter. Collun reached for his dagger, while Brie silently lifted her bow to her shoulder and notched an arrow to the string. Then, unexpectedly, the scald-crow spun off, winging away at high speed in an easterly direction. Collun watched until it had disappeared. Without a word, Brie doused the fire with the leftover chicory. They hurriedly packed up and mounted Fiain. The Ellyl horse sensed their urgency at once and set off at a gallop.

"I wonder how long it will take the bird to reach Medb's dun," Collun said, his heart pounding.

He scanned the sky. Outlined as they were against the stark landscape, he and Brie were easy to spot from above. He shuddered, remembering the ice-dark feeling of the scald-crow feather that had brushed his forehead months ago.

Brie pointed to the clouds. "Look. Snow blossoms," she said.

Collun looked up. Indeed the clouds had changed, taking on the shape of gigantic white flowers with streaks of gray radiating from their centers.

"A storm is coming," Brie said.

"Will it hide us?" Collun asked with a flicker of hope.

"Perhaps," answered Brie, but she sounded worried.

The first of the white flakes began to fall by late afternoon. They brought out Mealladh's fur-lined cloaks and put them on. The snowflakes were thick, and they clung stubbornly to eyelashes and hair before melting.

Their cloaks were soon damp, though they kept the rest of their clothing mostly dry. Brie and Collun snuggled into the hoods gratefully. The snow was piling up.

They came upon a dense bank of red-berry juniper shrubs and decided to stop there for the night. They dug out a small shelter beside the bushes, and though it was difficult to kindle a fire, they finally managed to get a small blaze going. Except for the apple Mealladh had given Collun, they were close to the end of their provisions. Brie was able to find little game in the snow.

Holding the map up to the flickering light of the fire, Collun and Brie estimated they were well over halfway to the Isle of Thule. But Brie was worried about the snow. There was danger in traveling through a blizzard, especially in a hostile land with little hope of shelter and food. She showed Collun how to make coverings for their hands by cutting up an old jersey and securing it at the wrist with twine.

They slept huddled together under the prickly juniper branches. Collun occasionally heard Fiain snort and stamp his feet to keep warm.

When they woke to the dim light of the winter sun, the snow was still falling lightly. The countryside around them was swathed in white, an undulating series of curves, broken only by the knob of an occasional tree.

With fingers made clumsy by the cold, they rekindled the fire and melted snow to drink. They carefully portioned out the last of their food, saving the rest of the dried fruit for Fiain. Collun gave the horse a vigorous rubdown, dusting the snow from his mane.

Soon they were under way. The snow, which had been falling only lightly when they awoke, began coming down more heavily as the afternoon progressed. The wind blew harder from the north, swirling snow into their faces. Fiain walked slowly, his head bowed low. The whirling whiteness became so thick that Collun could barely see beyond Fiain's ears.

There was no way to tell in which direction they were going. Despite the Ellyl horse's keen sense of direction, Collun did not think it possible that he would be able to hold to their course. It took all the animal's energy simply to keep moving through the blizzard.

"Collun." He could just hear Brie's voice over the whistling sound of the wind.

"Yes?"

"Try not to fall asleep. There is danger in sleep when you are cold."

They lapsed into silence. Collun shut his eyes and listened to the whishing of the wind and to the muffled sound of Fiain's hooves plodding through the deep drifts of snow. The fur of his hood was rimmed with tiny icicles that pricked his face. The large flakes of the day before had turned into small, fierce pellets of ice that hammered relentlessly at their bodies.

Collun began to lose all sense of time. There was only the stinging snow, the sound of the wind, and the movement of the horse beneath them. On and on they went through the blizzard.

Collun suddenly felt something clasp him around the waist. He looked down and saw Brie's hands with their makeshift mittens. She was squeezing him tightly. Then he realized with horror that he had fallen asleep.

"Collun?" Brie's voice was insistent and worried. "Collun, can you hear me?"

"Yes. I'm sorry. I was sleeping."

"I thought so." Brie sounded tired herself, but she was patient. "Please try to stay awake. They say freezing is an easy way to die, because it steals over you like sleep. But I do not think it is our time for dying. Not yet." She paused. The sound of the wind filled their ears. "What will you do, Collun, when this is over? Will you return with Nessa to Inkberrow?"

"No." Brie didn't seem to hear him at first, so he said it again, louder. "No. I will not return to Inkberrow."

"Why not?"

"There is no home for me there." Collun thought of Goban's dark face with its perpetual frown. He shivered.

Brie sensed his mood and quickly said, "Where, then?"

"I do not know."

There was silence. Then Brie said, "There will be a garden, wherever it is."

Collun smiled slightly. "I hope so."

"Tell me what you will plant in the garden."

Collun paused, thinking.

"Well?" she prodded him gently.

"It would depend on how much land there was." Talking was difficult, but it was better than the constant sound of the wind.

"Say there is much land, as much as you could ever want."

"Then it would depend on the soil. If it is heavy or light, too much clay or sand, which would depend on where the land was..."

"Put the land where you like."

"Very well. I will have it by the sea because the moisture in the air is good for growing. First, I will sow heliotrope seeds because the flowers are brightly colored. They are also sweet smelling and will attract bees. I would like a hive near my garden. Next to the heliotrope I will plant red valerian because the two grow well side by side. Then a small patch of paggle. It smells as good as it looks and makes a delicious pudding with cream, eggs, and rosewater."

Brie let out a muffled groan. "Please, no talk of food. What about a bit of wild hyacinth or harebell? The juice from the stalk makes a glue I use to attach feathers to my arrows."

"Then there shall certainly be harebell," said Collun. "And some blue clownrie; though it's an ugly, squat thing with nettles on its leaves, it is good for healing wounds and fever. And next to that perhaps some peppergrass for seasoning..." Collun's voice became increasingly animated as he warmed to his theme.