An Apprentice to Elves by Elizabeth Bear

Author:Elizabeth Bear
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781429948128
Publisher: Tom Doherty Associates

ELEVEN

Fargrimr and his people walked and camped, and left as little trail as possible. They knew through the pack-sense from Viradechtis that the Northern army was still gathering. They suspected from experience—and had discussed through many long nights of strategizing over the past years—that the Rheans would not follow them into the wolf-haunted woods. Skjaldwulf Marsbrother had learned all too vividly of the superstitious dread with which the Rheans regarded their own ancestral wolf-goddess. That, and their belief that men who kept company with wolves were witches, would have sufficed even if no other reasons presented themselves.

And there were, as Otter had been at pains to point out from the wisdom of her cruel experience, so many other reasons. The trees broke up the Rheans’ nigh-impenetrable shield-wall turtles. Forests rendered their close-marching tactics untenable. And the taiga gave the Northmen every advantage of ground.

Regrettably, Otter had also been at pains to point out—also from her own experience—that the depths of the taiga would not protect the Northmen forever. You couldn’t farm in deep forest, and you couldn’t eat pinecones and live on the run for season upon season. Forest could be cut down or burned, and roads built to pierce it.

Still, Fargrimr knew, the forest and the winter were the Northmen’s allies as sure as were the wolves. (He was almost moved to regret the loss of trolls. Leading a trellwarren down on the Rheans would have been a neat and satisfying use of natural resources.) His best hope currently was that perhaps the Rheans would decide to salvage Freyasheall—all the wood, he hoped, would have burned, but the stone was still sound—and that the rebuilding operation would delay them through the summer. If they were not in too much of a hurry, if they were willing to consolidate gains rather than pursuing a fleeing enemy into a wilderness that was friendly to that enemy and inimical to them.…

Fargrimr kept company with that hope right until the first Rhean found them.

And found them in a most peculiar fashion, from what Fargrimr could gather as he was being roughly woken to deal with the matter. While he rubbed sleep from his eyes, a wolfcarl messenger told Fargrimr that the captured Rhean had walked right up to a sentry with the green boughs tokening peace in his hands and surrendered himself, saying he wished to parley with Fargrimr Fastarrson.

He must be a messenger from Iunarius, Fargrimr thought, heaving himself to his feet. He tightened his breast band and pulled on his trews while he tried to think through this new problem. By the time he’d laced his boots, an earthenware mug of hot mint and willow infusion laced with honey had appeared at his side, placed there by a crop-haired, self-effacing thrall. No more fires, Fargrimr reminded himself. He must pass the order tonight.

He didn’t quite have the strength of character to pour the tisane out, however. Before he drank it down—the warmth of the mug took the morning chill from his

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