The Temple at Landfall

by Jane Fletcher

  Lynn ducked her head back into the carriage, screaming her words so loudly her voice cracked with the effort. “Smith! Make them stop. They’re driving us into an ambush!” But for once, Smith was speechless, frozen in the corner like a tableau of horror, with Quento and Ubbi as attendant wailers. All Lynn could do was return to watching through the window and pray they could outrun the ambush when it came.

  The carriage was halfway down the valley, hurtling toward the bridge, when Lynn saw the first motion in the undergrowth beside the road, and then the explosion of teeth and claws as the snow lions erupted from the depths of the bushes. Even before there was time to react or change course, the first Guard went down, her horse disemboweled. The Guard following was able to avoid the mound of flailing hooves and claws, but a second lion charged toward her, causing her horse to rear in panic and unseat her. Lynn had a flashed vision of blood spurting onto the pure white snow, a lion with its jaws locked on the throat of a horse, and then the carriage was past, careening on in its desperate race for the bridge. As she looked back, Lynn saw that already four of the Guards had been lost to the first assault. In horror, Lynn watched as three other Guards wheeled about in an attempt to rescue their comrades and deter the lions from chasing after the carriage. They struck out with their swords, slashing wildly while fighting to control their panicked steeds, until they too went down under the onslaught.

  Lynn tore her eyes away from the doomed battle. The bridge was getting nearer, less than three hundred meters. “Please, Celaeno, help us,” she whispered, her gaze fixed on the staging post on the hilltop above, the promise of sanctuary. It seemed too much to hope that they were past the danger, and then she caught sight of motion out of the corner of her eye. Three more lions had burst into view, charging forward over the snow to intercept the path of the carriage.

  The bridge was close, but the lions were closer still. In a state beyond terror, Lynn watched the three huge beasts, seeming to bound in slow motion, yet moving so quickly, converging on the carriage. Then, without warning, another lion appeared from nowhere, rising out of the snow and taking down the Guardswoman in the lead. Now there were only four of the escort left, and the bridge was still a hundred meters away. It was by no means certain they would be safe if they got across, but their deaths were surely inevitable if they did not.

  The lions put on a final spurt, lengthening their gait to swallow more ground with each bound, and Lynn realized the race to the bridge was going to be lost. But one of the Guards peeled away from the carriage, spurring her horse into the path of the charging beasts. Her voice lifted in a shrieked battle cry, claiming the beasts’ attention as her sword lifted high and fell upon the head of the first lion. The animal howled in pain and dropped back, but the other two snow lions leaped onto the woman, tearing her from the saddle. Somehow, the Guard regained her feet, swinging her sword in a desperate two-handed grip until a second attack sent her sprawling. But her action had bought the carriage time, and while the snow lions ripped at the fallen woman, Lynn heard the sound of the wheels change to a hollow rumble as the carriage jolted over the wooden slats of the bridge.

  Lynn looked down. Five meters below, a frozen river glittered at the bottom of the narrow chasm. She had a brief impression of sheer rock walls on either side, the dark shadows obscuring the depths, and then they were across.

  One of the Guards shouted, “Hold the bridge!” and the last three riders spun away from the carriage, circling back to try to defend the crossing against pursuit.

  The carriage did not slow as it swung around a large curve and began its hectic ascent. The gradient was steeper on this side and the road was cut into the hillside, its path a diagonal scar around the valley walls, sweeping upward. As they got higher, Lynn was given a better view of the carnage below, a sight she had no wish to see, yet she could not pull her eyes away. Already the three Guards at the bridge had fallen, but the snow lions had given up the chase and were turning back to investigate the spoils of battle. One of the beasts raised its head to follow the flight of the carriage, its eyes seeming to meet with Lynn’s, then it lowered its jaws to the carcass at its feet.

  Both the junior Sisters were screaming. For the first time since the lions appeared, Lynn became aware of the noise, and then of other sounds—the creaks and groans from the wood around her, the dull knocking of the axles. The carriage had not been intended for this treatment. It had never been built to race over rough roads. The whole frame jumped and shuddered as the wheels thumped from stone to stone.

  “Driver! Slow down!” Lynn hung half out the window, shouting to the woman on the box above her head, but it was doubtful if she was heard, and even more doubtful if there was anything the driver could do. One glance showed that the horses were bolting, fighting for their heads. The driver was as helpless a passenger as those inside.

  Lynn looked back down to the valley floor. The road up the hillside had curved around so they were now directly above the site of the first ambush. The steep slope led down to the brink of the widening ravine, and on the other side were the snow lions, squabbling angrily over their victims. In horror, Lynn realized that not all of the Guards were dead. One blood-soaked woman was trying to crawl away until a lion dragged her back. Lynn averted her eyes and tried to concentrate on the road ahead. The staging post at the top of the hill was less than a half a kilometer away. Safety. If they could make it.

  The carriage seemed about to burst apart from the shaking, but there was nothing Lynn could do. Then a wheel smashed down into a larger pothole and ricocheted up and out. The carriage veered wildly to one side, crashing against the rock face where the road was cut into the hillside. There was the screech of tearing wood. For a second, two wheels left the ground before keeling back and pitching the vehicle, equally violently, against the low embankment that marked the other side of the road. The retort as the rear axle snapped echoed around the hills. The chassis of the carriage hit the ground, sheering sideways and splintering from the force of the impact. It began to topple over, still dragged forward by the panicked horses, but the shock had burst the door open, throwing Lynn clear before the carriage completed its disintegration into a tangle of shattered timber.

  Lynn hit the ground hard; the impact almost knocked her senseless. She was aware of sliding, rolling down the snow-covered slope, out of control. Her braided hair whipped about her face. Frantically, she clawed at the ground, trying to slow her descent, but the snow was powder under her hands. Her sense of up and down was lost in the confusion of white. There was a slap as her leg crashed into a bush and then nothing as she tumbled into free space. She hit ground again, softer this time, the fall cushioned by a deep drift of snow, and was still.

  For a moment, Lynn lay on her back, stunned and breathless, then she opened her eyes and looked up. The sunlight had gone and the blue sky was a ragged-edged band between two black planes of rock. The remains of the small avalanche caused by her slide fluttered down about her in a dancing snowfall. In her shaken state, it took a while for Lynn to realize she had fallen into the ravine.

  Every bone in her body felt jarred, but nothing was broken, of that she was sure, but even serious injury would not have been her main concern. Roars and the screams of women and horses came from immediately overhead. Even as Lynn lay recovering her wits, she saw the head of a snow lion swing into view over the top of the ravine, the white fur of its muzzle stained red with blood. Luckily, the beast was intent on the ruins of the carriage. It appeared to be considering crossing the ravine to investigate and did not notice the woman lying below. The animal was close enough for Lynn to see the heavy, bony ridges over its eyes, the saber-like fangs, and the powerful muscles bunching in its jaws, but after an eternity of dread, the snow lion turned away and withdrew from view.

  Lynn forced herself to move, to creep, one step at a time across the frozen river, and get to the side of the ravine under the lions, searching for an overhang to shield her from view in case another of the beasts should ch
ance to peer down. At last, she found a shallow niche, the best cover available, and flattened herself against the rock. Then she pressed her hands over her ears and tried, desperately, to block out the sounds from above.

  *

  Lieutenant Ramon watched in disbelief as the carriage and its escort crested the ridge and disappeared over.

  “The idiots! The stupid fucking idiots,” Sergeant Coppelli shouted over her shoulder.

  It was an understatement; however, hurling insults would achieve nothing. Ramon looked back down the road. As expected, Captain LeCoup already had the situation well under control. The three snow lions were at bay, snarling at the closing line of Rangers. Even as she watched, one of the beasts leaped forward, claws outstretched. The nearest woman ducked and struck out with her sword, sinking it deep into the vulnerable throat. More Rangers stepped up to assist in dispatching the wounded animal. The other two lions would not be long in following their pack mate.

  “Come on. The Imprinter!” Ramon shouted the order and set off running up the hill, hoping the Guards would have come to their senses and stopped, but by the time she reached the brow, the carriage was far ahead, speeding toward the bridge.

  “Look at them. They haven’t got a brain cell between them.” Again Coppelli expressed her contempt of the Guards.

  Ramon nodded her agreement. Helplessly, the Rangers stood on the hilltop, knowing what was going to happen, but unable to do anything about it. They saw the sudden motion in the bushes and the snow lions charge, and looked on, appalled, as the Guards fell one by one. They saw the carriage’s frantic race for the bridge and the Guard’s suicide attack that paid for the crossing.

  Coppelli sank down to a crouch, staring at the snow and then looking up. “I said they were idiots, not cowards.”

  “As brave a bunch of dead fools as you could hope for,” Ramon agreed, sickened. Her eyes fixed on the carriage as it began to climb the opposite hillside. Against all the odds, it seemed as if the passengers would escape and reach the staging post in safety, as long as the driver could bring the bolting horses under control. But even as she was starting to hope, Ramon saw the crash and Lynn’s tumbling slither into the ravine. A stunned silence claimed the watchers on the hilltop.

  “Was that the Imprinter?” one Ranger asked.

  “Yes.” Ramon had seen the flash of blue as Lynn fell.

  “Do you think she’s okay?”

  “I don’t know. But I’m going to find out. The rest of you stay here until the captain finishes with the ones back there. Tell her where I’ve gone.”

  “Shall I come with you?” Coppelli offered.

  “No. One is enough to see if she’s unharmed. And if not...” Ramon shrugged and did not finish the sentence.

  The bushes were thick on the lower reaches of the valley. The Ranger set off, slipping from cover to cover as she headed straight for the ravine. Within a few minutes, she stood by the jagged edge, her position downstream from the bridge and well away from where the snow lions were congregating around the fallen bodies. At this point, the ravine was wider and deeper. Luckily, the sides were cracked and eroded, giving plenty of footholds. After a last check on the snow lions, Ramon lowered herself over the side and began to climb down to the frozen river.

  *

  Lynn hugged herself against the rock face, eyes squeezed shut, trying to make herself as small as possible. Never had she felt so alone. The noise from above quieted for a moment, and in the silence, she heard the sound of a soft footfall, the faint clink of a stone shifting, no more than five steps away. Her heart leaped to her throat, her eyes flew open, and she saw Lieutenant Ramon, like a gift from the Goddess, cautiously negotiate the last few meters and crouch down beside her.

  “Hi. I thought you might like some company,” Ramon whispered very quietly, smiling.

  In wordless gratitude, Lynn reached out and grabbed her hand.

  “Can I take that as a yes?”

  “Yes, please, thank you.” Lynn was inarticulate with relief.

  “Anything broken?”

  “No...I can walk. Do you know how to get out?”

  Ramon hesitated thoughtfully then said, “I know it’s not easy, but we’re probably best waiting here. Once Captain LeCoup has had a chance to evaluate the lay of the land, she’ll launch an attack. We don’t know what plans she’ll have, and if we move, we run the risk of getting caught up in the middle of something nasty. There’ll be snow lions rushing left, right, and center once it starts. But since she knows we’re here, she’ll try to keep them away from us.”

  The whispered words were confident. Lynn took reassurance just from the impression that the Ranger knew what was happening. The tension in her stomach eased a little and she nodded. “I’m sure you know best. At least I’m not alone.”

  “No, you’re not, and don’t worry, we’ll soon be safe in the fort, Madam Imprinter.”

  Lynn swallowed. “Given the circumstances, I won’t consider it an affront to my dignity if you call me Lynn.” She squeezed the Ranger’s hand as she spoke.

  “Okay. Lynn. My first name’s Kim, by the way. Short for Kimberly.”

  “Kim.” For the first time Lynn managed a weak smile. “Thank you for coming for me.”

  The lieutenant pulled a lopsided grin. “Well, I did promise we’d keep you safe.”

  A sudden burst of enraged snarling broke out above. Lynn shrank closer to the other woman. “You’d think they’d be quiet while they’re eating.” She tried to make her voice light though still keeping to a low whisper.

  “Ah, but they won’t be. Having killed everything, they’ll now be discovering they don’t much like the taste of people or horses. They are probably going from body to body, taking a bite out of everything, trying to find out which one is best and getting very frustrated. If they’re hungry enough, they might force something down. In which case, by tomorrow, their hair will be falling out in clumps, and they’ll have the most horrendous case of diarrhea. And you won’t believe how easy that makes them to track.”

  Abruptly, the sounds changed; high shouts were answered by a renewed frenzy of roars from the snow lions. The Rangers were attacking. Lynn flinched at the sound, scrunching her eyes closed in a grimace of fear. It seemed as if the battle was about to spill over on top of them.

  “It will be finished soon.” Lynn could tell that Ramon was trying to sound as reassuring as possible. After a second’s hesitation, the Ranger’s arm slipped gently around her shoulders. Lynn did not mind admitting that she was terrified, and she leaned into the other woman’s body, trying to draw strength from her. Whatever happened, she did not want to draw attention to their position by screaming.

  The battle raged on above. Ramon was listening intently to the sounds, as if trying to judge the flow of events from them. All Lynn could tell was that the center of the action seemed to be moving down the valley, when a fresh outbreak of shouting erupted. Voices yelled commands, coming closer. Lynn opened her eyes, just as a shadow was cast on the opposite wall of the ravine, and then a snow lion appeared above, gathering itself for a leap.

  The beast sprang. Its front paws landed on the far side, but the jump was not quite enough. Its hindquarters hit the rock wall, and after wild scrabbling, the lion tumbled back and crashed down, landing not thirty meters away from where they stood.

  Wide-eyed, Lynn stared at the unmoving form of the beast. “Please, Celaeno, please. Let it be dead,” she prayed silently. And for long seconds, it seemed as if the Goddess would grant her request. But then a paw twitched, the shoulders jerked around, and the snow lion struggled to its feet. It shook its head, still dazed from the fall, but then its enraged glare fixed on the two women, and with a snarl, the snow lion advanced.

  The Ranger’s sword was drawn in an instant, and Ramon rushed forward, putting herself between Lynn and the lion. A low rumble began in the beast’s throat, growing to a full roar as it surged forward, launching itself into a charge. To Lynn, it looked as if Ramon were frozen
to the spot. What chance did the Ranger stand with no comrades at hand to come to her aid? Lynn took a half step forward just as the lion leaped for the Ranger’s throat. And then Ramon moved in a blur and dived under the deadly claws.

  With lightning-quick reactions, the lion began to twist in midjump, swiping down at its intended prey, but Lynn realized that the Ranger’s aim and timing had been exact. The point of the blade sank between the bones of the lion’s chest. The force of the animal’s momentum drove the sword in to the hilt, slicing through the vital organs encased within. Lynn did not need her knowledge of anatomy to know that the snow lion was already dead as it continued to plunge forward, crashing down and bearing the Ranger to the ground. The large frame shuddered convulsively and then was still, a lifeless heap of white fur on the floor of the ravine.

  Lynn took a hesitant step forward. Then she saw the first signs of movement as the Ranger began to squirm from under the carcass. Lynn hurried to her side, lending a hand to roll the dead lion away. Ramon braced herself up on her elbows, breathing heavily.

  “Are you all right?” Lynn asked.

  Ramon grinned. “Better than the lion.” She made as if to stand, but gasped and fell back.

  Immediately, Lynn placed her hand over the Ranger’s forehead, exerting the healer sense. White-hot fire was shooting up the Ranger’s leg. Gently Lynn swept it away, but her intervention had only eased the pain, not cured its source. Nothing but time would do that.