Learning to Dharn by Ann Somerville

Author:Ann Somerville [Somerville, Ann]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Amazon: B004Y05I4A
Published: 2013-01-17T09:13:47+00:00

Chapter 9

They rode for another hour before Dharn called a halt. Kelten at first couldn’t understand why he’d chosen this place. It looked exactly the same as the rest of the forest, and no different from what lay before them. But as they began to put up the tent—no need to communicate over such a task when they had worked in harmony for weeks—the moonlight faded. Kelten looked up. Clouds were sweeping fast across the night sky and across Nodos, the larger moon. Dharn must have known they would lose the light, and indeed, they had barely finished setting up before the first fat flakes of snow fell. With no fire, it was horribly cold inside the tent even with Dog huddling with them for warmth. Angry as he was, Kelten had no choice but to cling to Dharn’s bulk to preserve body heat, and since he had slept little the night before from worry, his anger could not keep him awake tonight.

They woke to a world of white, and Dharn had to dig them out. Still no time for a fire, apparently. After offering Kelten water from a flask inside his coat and some jerky, Dharn mounted up. They didn’t stop again for some hours, and only because the horses needed grain and melted snow, which meant a fire.

The snow continued on and off, and made the journey miserable. Harnig had given Dharn a coat to replace the one Kelten had surrendered as belonging to Bern, but it wasn’t quite as warm, nor was the borrowed scarf a substitute for the snug woollen cap Kelten had left behind in the train compartment. Ice clung to Kelten’s face without the protection of his beard, and the scarf exposed his neck to the sting and wet of snowflakes if he forgot to stay huddled inside his coat and collar.

Dharn, as always, seemed quite unperturbed by the cold. He set them a punishing pace, travelling as long as there was light of any kind to ride by, setting a fire only long enough to melt snow to drink and cook griddle cakes for supper. The rest of the time they moved silently, leaving little trace of their passing on the winter landscape, and only exchanging grunts and hand signals when absolutely necessary. Kelten wanted nothing more. Dharn seemed to, though. On the second night, as they hunched by the fire, Dharn had raised his hand to stroke Kelten’s face. Kelten glared at him, made a chopping gesture, and Dharn desisted immediately. He hadn’t attempted to touch him again, and the nights held no affection from him either. Kelten regretted that, but he could not forgive what Dharn and Harnig had done. What could not be undone.

At noon on the sixth day, they passed by a farm. Not long after, Kelten saw two small cottages set close by each other in the snow. And then another, then three more. Not long after that, a whole group of cottages and barns appeared, dark shapes in the white.

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