Douglas Niles - First Quest 02 by Suitors Duel

Author:Suitors Duel
Format: epub
Published: 2013-06-28T16:00:00+00:00

13

Search in the Snow

Night settled in with a vengeance, the darkening assault aided by heavy clouds and the increasingly thick flurries of large, wet snowflakes. The horses stomped their feet and shook their hindquarters, sending the snow cascading to the ground as the placid creatures prepared to weather the storm.

Within the cave, the mood was not so tranquil. Holt rose and paced, as much as the cramped shelter would allow. Gallarath sat and glowered, honing the blade of his battle-axe as his face reflected the variety of emotions, all unpleasant, that stormed through his mind.

“D’you think he went to find the goat himself?” the Son of Rochester finally asked, his voice a plaintive plea for reassurance.

Holt had considered the same possibility some hours earlier, and discarded it. “I don’t think so. The weather’s too bad to do much in the way of exploration, and we’re a long way below those three peaks—even if they’re the Three Hags the yetis talked about. No, I think he got lost on his search for wood. I hope he finds some way to get out of the storm.”

“I think he will,” Danis said. “Sir Erik seems well able to take care of himself.”

Holt felt a flash of jealousy—he had noted no such competence in the knight! Danis’s statement seemed to indicate that she had been paying considerable attention to Sir Erik. At the same time, he was slightly comforted by the fact that there was little warmth in her observance. His irritation was further quenched when he considered the miserable night that Sir Erik would no doubt spend— if he was still alive.

Without a fire, the three companions suffered terribly from the icy temperatures of the long, snowy night. They huddled together under every blanket and furskin they had, and though comfort was minimal, they all lived until the dawn. Holt slept for a few minutes at a time, until sharp edges of rock caused such pain that he was forced to shift his position for another brief respite.

Finally a dirty gray illumination penetrated the gloom beyond their cave. It was not sunrise by any stretch of the imagination, but Holt knew that daylight had again returned to Karawenn. The wind had died sometime after midnight, and though it had snowed for many more hours, the storm seemed to have lost its fury. Now, in the harsh light, the Daryman looked outward at a scene of placidly descending flakes.

“It’s light,” he told his companions as they stirred beneath the communal pile of blankets. “I’ll go look for Erik.” Only after he had spoken did he realize he had omitted the ‘sir’. Such concerns, he told himself, meant less than nothing in the severe climate—their stakes were no less than survival itself.

“Shouldn’t we stick together?” Danis asked, shivering as she emerged from the furry cover.

“We’re already separated,” Holt pointed out. “If I can find Erik and bring him back here, we’ll be together again. If not, you . . . and the prince will still be able to continue with the quest.

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