The Traitor and the Chalice

by Jane Fletcher

  “Maybe some sort of dancing academy. Or do all sorcerers have that innate grace and rhythm?”

  “I’m afraid not. As you’ll discover from my abilities if we get to Lyremouth in time for the midwinter festival.”

  Tevi’s smile became a yawn; she was tired from her sleepless night. She turned to squelch through the muddy puddles dotting the path, saying nothing, but she knew there was no hope of reaching Lyremouth by midwinter. They would be doing well just to get over the Barrodens and back into the Protectorate before bad weather made travel impossible.

  *

  The dwarf road climbed to the head of the valley and down again through groves of spindly trees and boulder-covered slopes. The sky was clear, but the raw wind snapped at their faces. At the bottom of the next valley, the path swung southeast. In her exhaustion, Jemeryl’s eyes were fixed on the ground. She did not notice when another rough track dropped down the hillside. However, Tevi stopped walking.

  “We’ve gone in a circle.”

  “We’ve done what?”

  Tevi pointed to the track. “When we were chasing Levannue, this is where we joined the road to the dwarf mines. I’ve been thinking for the last few minutes that the scenery was looking familiar. I didn’t say, in case it was wishful thinking. But I’m sure this is the way back to the Old West Road.”

  “I think you’re right.” Jemeryl started wearily up the track but Tevi remained standing on the road. “Is there something else?”

  “The mine entrance isn’t far.”

  “And?”

  “Do you think they’ve really eaten the horses? The journey would be so much easier if we had them.”

  “I couldn’t say. Dwarves don’t go in for riding, but horses are valuable. They might be kept to sell. However, we can’t take on the entire clan, certainly not with me in this state.”

  Tevi scowled in the direction of the mines but then turned and followed Jemeryl on the steep track. Mud clung to their shoes. Before they were a third of the way up, Jemeryl was gasping. Yet she stubbornly continued putting one foot in front of the other.

  “Don’t be silly. I’ll carry you,” Tevi said at last.

  Jemeryl was unwilling to accept her own weakness. “You can’t carry me all the way to Lyremouth.”

  “I will if I have to.”

  “I might be all right if we take it slowly.”

  “We don’t have the time.”

  The assertion was undeniable. Jemeryl made no further objections and tried to relax in Tevi’s arms, but she knew tears were close. It was not so much the infirmity. That, she could have tolerated. But not to be a sorcerer, to be confined in the mundane world, was unbearable. Klara’s death was the final bitter wound. Jemeryl closed her eyes and rested her head on Tevi’s shoulder, trying to block out her pain with the comfort of Tevi’s physical presence.

  *

  In the following days, Tevi’s arms were a source of comfort that often felt like the only thing keeping Jemeryl going. The rough terrain that had passed quickly under the horses’ hooves was an arduous slog by foot. The effects of the coma faded and Jemeryl was able to travel farther each day unassisted, but her paranormal senses showed no sign of returning. Except sometimes, as she drifted into sleep, she felt the hint of the world beyond in taunting images that blended into dreams.

  Five days after leaving the hermit’s village, they reached the Old West Road. The climate had grown milder as they dropped in altitude, yet there was no mistaking the wind’s icy bite. The sky was blue, with wisps of cloud, but the sunlight carried no warmth. Winter would soon be sweeping over the forests. With good luck, it might hold off for a month. With bad luck, the next day could see them snowbound.

  “Uzhenek is east; the Protectorate is west. Which way do you want to go?” Jemeryl’s tone left little doubt that she preferred the second option.

  “Which is nearer?”

  “Denbury. But—”

  “We have to get over the Barrodens.” Tevi finished the sentence for her.

  “We won’t go past Graka.”

  “You’ve talked me into it.”

  They set off west.

  *

  Once again, they were following the Old West Road on its remorseless advance across the landscape, but a change had come. The forest was stark; only withered leaves still clung to branches. Birdsong was rare, and few small animals disturbed the leaf litter. The overnight frost turned puddles to ice. One brief flurry of snow fell but did not settle. To the south, the Barrodens dropped in height, although the snow-capped peaks still formed an unbroken barricade.

  After fourteen days, the Old West Road finally deviated from its ruler-straight line. The road swung south and began to climb. The following night, they camped in a wide valley that drove into the heart of the Barrodens.

  “Another three days to Denbury,” Jemeryl estimated.

  “Good job, too. We’re nearly out of food.”

  “It’s enough for a couple of meals.”

  “As long as they’re not big ones. It’s lucky we’re not expecting company.”

  “I don’t suppose it’s worth trying to gather something before we tackle the pass?”

  Tevi shook her head. “There isn’t much around that’s edible. It’s been five nights since the snares caught anything, and I doubt I’d have any more luck hunting—even if we had the time.”

  “We’ve done well.”

  “We have. At least twenty-five miles a day.”

  “From the blisters, I’d have sworn it was twice that.” Jemeryl raised one foot to illustrate.

  “And it will be for nothing if winter closes the pass.”

  “We’re going to make it.”

  “Is that prophecy or wishful thinking?”

  Jemeryl smiled ruefully. “Even if my senses were restored, I probably couldn’t answer that one.”

  They set off just before dawn the next day. The road climbed steadily along the bottom of the valley. Mountains rose above the pine trees on either side. Eventually, the valley ended in a steep escarpment. Here, the ascent began in earnest, zigzagging up the almost-vertical walls. The weather was bitterly cold, numbing their toes and fingers.

  After four hours of hard climbing, they stood on the top of the escarpment. The road ahead ran across rolling moorland, surrounded by jagged peaks. Snow crept down from the heights, encroaching on the plain. Several miles distant, they could see the road rise over another ridge slung between two craggy peaks.

  “With any luck that’s the top of the pass,” Tevi said.

  “It’s more likely just a good viewpoint to see the next part of the climb.”

  Tevi smiled and turned to look back over the valley they had just left. The panorama was breathtaking. Snow-covered mountains stretched off on either side above wooded slopes. The dazzling white contrasted with the green pines in heartbreaking beauty. However, what caught Tevi’s attention were the heavy black clouds piling up on the horizon.

  “How long do you think we have?” Jemeryl asked quietly.

  “Not long enough. Do you think you can outrun a blizzard?”

  “Do I have a choice?”

  “We could find shelter.”

  “Unless you can see something I’m missing, there doesn’t seem to be much on offer.”

  “Maybe over the ridge ahead there might be...something?” Tevi finished uncertainly.

  “Such as?”

  “Ideally, an inn with roaring fires and well-stocked kitchen, but I’d settle for a cave.”

  By the time they had crossed two-thirds of the moor, the storm clouds were blocking out the sun. The wind at their backs picked up sharply. The first of the snow rippled across the ground in rolling, snakelike bands that broke about their knees. A few larger flakes whipped past their faces, and then, as suddenly as if a door had opened, the snow became a hurtling onslaught carried vertically on a screaming wind.

  Jemeryl’s breath was laboured. She staggered under the repeated blasts and eventually slipped to
her knees. For the first time in days, Tevi picked her up and carried her, but it would not be long before even Tevi’s superhuman strength was overwhelmed. The road began to climb while the blizzard gained in force. The raging whiteness blotted out everything. The wind tore the air from Tevi’s lungs and her feet sank past her ankles into banks of snow.

  The road climbed higher. As an act of will, Tevi kept moving forward. Abruptly, a dark shape materialised out of the white chaos. In the space of a dozen footsteps, the shadow became solid, acquiring detail. Tevi found herself standing outside a high wooded stockade. She set Jemeryl down, and the pair edged along the wall until they reached a large gateway.

  Tevi hammered on the door with the pommel of her sword.

  “There’s no point!” Jemeryl screamed in her ear. “They won’t hear us over the wind!”

  A smaller doorway was set into the main gate. Tevi stepped back and then threw all her strength into a kick. The whole gateway rattled, but no shouts came from inside. A second, third and fourth kick followed, by which time the door was hanging off its hinges. Tevi delivered a final blow with her shoulder and the door flew in.

  The two women stepped over the splintered wood into an enclosed courtyard. Low timber buildings lined all sides. It was more sheltered than the hillside, yet the wind still whipped around the yard and sent streamers of snow over the rooftops. Some of the buildings were clearly stables and sheds. The largest hall looked to be the domestic quarters. Tevi led the way forward and lifted the latch. To her relief, it was unbolted. Billowing snow chased them inside until Tevi shut the door. Suddenly, it was very quiet.

  They were in a long room with a stone fireplace and one wall lined with bunks. An ancient table and two benches stood in the middle. The walls were split logs; the floor, beaten earth. The place had clearly been deserted for days, but in the circumstances, it was pure luxury.

  “Do you know what this is?” Jemeryl asked

  “I’d guess it’s a mercenary patrol post. It probably doubles as a shelter for herdsmen and maybe an inn for travellers. Some of my colleagues in Horzt served in places like this.”

  “Where is everyone?”

  “In winter, there are no animals on the high pastures, no wagon trains, and only very stupid bandits.”

  “It’s run by the mercenaries?”

  “If the local guild council is prepared to pay us.”

  “So it must mean we’re at the top of the pass and back in the Protectorate.”

  Tevi smiled ironically. “Welcome home.”

  During a lull in the storm, Tevi checked the other buildings. She found firewood, neatly cut and stacked; clean straw for bedding; and oil lanterns, but little else. When the blizzard returned, the two women sat beside the blazing hearth, listening to the roaring outside. The immediate threat was over. They would not freeze, but Tevi wondered how long they would be pinned down. Their supply of food would not last another day.

  *

  The blizzard abated late the following afternoon, although fitful gusts still made the roof creak. Tevi went to look out over the winter landscape. The patrol post was situated a hundred yards below the top of the ridge. Dark clouds hung overhead, bearing down oppressively. A thick coat of snow covered the moor, softened to grey in the hollows.

  The road was hidden under the snow, but it was not hard to guess its line. Beyond the shelter of the stockade, the wind snapped at Tevi with renewed force, cold and biting. The snow was knee-deep, and the frozen crust broke underfoot. Heather snared her boots when she strayed from the path. Several times, she stumbled into windblown drifts.

  In five minutes she reached the crest of the pass. The wind ripped over the ridge in unrestrained savagery. It roared in Tevi’s ears and flung volleys of stinging ice particles in her face. Through the shield of her fingers, Tevi saw broken hills drop away before her, scored with valleys. On distant lowlands were the distinctive patterns of cultivated land.

  When Tevi returned Jemeryl was waiting by the fire, stirring a pan that’s contents consisted mainly of water. “I’m afraid this is the last of the food. Did you find out anything promising?”

  “We are at the top of the pass.”

  “Good.”

  “I could see farms. They’re at least a day away, and it’s getting dark, but if it’s clear tomorrow, we have to set out.”

  “The snow will be back before sunrise.” Jemeryl continued stirring but then stopped and stared at the pan.

  “Are you all right?”

  “I’m not guessing.”

  “What?”

  “I can see it. I can feel the storm. I’m starting to—” Jemeryl broke off and raised her hands. They were shaking, but then, between her fingers, a blue ball of light shimmered, stuttered, and failed. But it was enough. While Tevi held her, Jemeryl sobbed with relief.

  “Will you recover completely?”

  “I don’t know, but I’m starting to heal. There’s a major ordinance of the Coven at Denbury. Perhaps someone there can help.”

  Hissing announced that the pan was boiling over, reclaiming their attention. Once the food was safely in bowls, they ate the meagre supper and talked of plans while it grew dark outside and then went to bed, still hungry.

  *

  Jemeryl was awoken from deep sleep by a draft of freezing air. Once her eyes adjusted, she saw Tevi standing by the partly open door, sword in hand.

  “What is it?”

  “There’s something moving outside.”

  In an instant, Jemeryl joined her at the doorway. A dark animal shape appeared on the far side of the courtyard. It was black against the white snow, as tall as Tevi’s waist, lean and powerful. It paused, one paw raised, sniffing the air.

  “Wolves. They’ve got in through the broken door,” Tevi said

  Jemeryl’s face contorted in the effort as she probed with her damaged senses. “They’re an ordinary pack. I’m sure of it. Not werewolves.”

  “Probably on the scent of the animals that were kept here.”

  “Shut and bar the door. We’ll be safe.”

  Tevi had other ideas. “Stay here. I won’t be long.”

  Before Jemeryl could respond, Tevi had slipped outside and pulled the door shut.

  Jemeryl opened it again immediately. “Tevi. Come back.”

  “I know what I’m doing,” Tevi whispered from a dark shadow.

  Three more wolves appeared at the entrance to the stockade and padded into the open. Jemeryl stepped back and pulled the door to. Through a finger-wide gap, she watched the pack circle the courtyard.

  Suddenly, the quiet was broken by a burst of snarling mixed with Tevi’s shouts and then a high-pitched yelp. As abruptly as it had started, the noise stopped. Unable to stay back, Jemeryl tore open the door and stepped out in time to see the last wolf skidding in the snow in its panic to flee. From the other direction, Tevi was returning, dragging a limp form that left a dark trail in the snow.

  The wolf seemed smaller and far less intimidating lying dead beside the hearth in the light of a lantern. It was no consolation to Jemeryl, who was furious at the scare she had received.

  “That was stupid. There was no need to take risks.”

  “I was quite safe. I told you I knew what I was doing.”

  “But why?”

  “I had good reasons.”

  “Such as?”

  “Roast wolf, fried wolf, wolf stew.”

  The answer stopped Jemeryl in her tracks. It was several seconds before she said, stunned, “We can’t eat it.”

  “Are your objections moral or culinary? Because the way my stomach feels, you’ll have a hard job talking me out of it.” Tevi grinned and pulled a knife from her pack. “One thing about a good barbarian upbringing. It helps you cope with life’s little emergencies.”

  *

  The blizzard returned before dawn, an invasion of white that engulfed the mountains in bludgeoning chaos. On the fifth night, Tevi and Jemeryl lay snuggled in bed listening to the howling wind. A
blazing fire lit the room. Tevi felt safe, warm, and comfy.

  Jemeryl lay on her back, staring at the ceiling. “We should leave tomorrow,” she announced unexpectedly.

  Tevi raised herself on an elbow. “Are you sure?”

  “I...yes.” Jemeryl looked as if she had surprised herself. “It will be our best chance. The weather will hold for a few days.”

  “You’re recovering, aren’t you?”

  “Slowly. Hopefully, I can be cured completely, so I’ll—” Jemeryl broke off. “Does that bother—”

  “What?”

  “Would you prefer that I stay ungifted?” Jemeryl’s voice was very quiet.

  “No. Why should I?”

  “It’s just...at the moment, we’re both the same. And I wondered if that might be easier for you.”

  Tevi stared at the fire while she sifted through her thoughts. “I admit, sometimes...I don’t like how people react to you...and then how they react to me for being with you. It’s not your being a sorcerer that’s the problem; it’s the rest of the world.” Her eyes returned to meet Jemeryl’s. “But at the moment, we’re not the same, because I’m content with being ungifted, and you’re not and never could be. I can ignore everyone else, but I could never ignore the fact that you’re unhappy.” Tevi dipped her head and kissed Jemeryl, slowly and very softly. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too.”

  Uncertainty still remained in Jemeryl’s eyes. Tevi sensed that actions, rather than words, would most readily push away any doubts—both Jemeryl’s and her own. Maybe it was not quite so easy to ignore the rest of the world as she had implied. Which made the times when the two of them were alone together all the more valuable.

  Tevi stroked her hand over Jemeryl’s shoulder and down her side. Jemeryl’s body had become very familiar to her but was still a source of wonder. Starting at Jemeryl’s hip, Tevi traced a soft line of circles along the junction between body and leg. Immediately, Jemeryl’s breathing quickened, and her eyes half closed. Tevi’s smile grew. By now, they knew each other’s likes and dislikes, and although their lovemaking had become more predictable, it was no less rewarding.