Winter Witch by Elaine Cunningham

Author:Elaine Cunningham
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Fantasy
ISBN: 9781601252869
Publisher: Paizo Publishing, LLC
Published: 2010-09-15T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Ten

The Stalkers in the Pines

Declan had always thought of the Lands of the Linnorm Kings as a snowy wasteland, but in summer it was greener than the pastures surrounding Korvosa.

It was also a rugged land, but even across its stony hills, bright patches of lichen and brilliant wildflowers made it appear more like a faerie land than the forbidding territory of the dreaded Ulfen raiders. In just a few days he had come to realize the Ulfen were far more diverse than the reputation of their pillagers would suggest. Since their narrow escape at Brinewall, the surviving members of the caravan had passed farms tended by men and women who, while big and hardy, resembled the seafaring marauders of their country as much as Korvosan stable boys resemble Hellknights.

When Balev sent Camillor ahead to ask permission to approach a dairy farm in hopes of camping nearby, the man of the house welcomed the entire caravan to water their beasts at his troughs. The grateful Balev haggled only halfheartedly while trading Taldan linen and skeins of embroidery thread from the bazaars of distant Katapesh for chickens, milk, flour, and a pig that the Varisians roasted that night to share with their hosts. Gisanto’s mother told a fortune of marriage and many children for the farmer’s daughter, but no one danced, and no one sang. There had been no music since Timoteo died.

Balev had wept openly when Gisanto’s mother led the women in sewing a gray shroud around the bard’s gusli. Declan felt himself choke up, but he was surprised to see Ellasif wiping away tears before she fled the ceremony. While she had rarely chatted with the bard, she seemed to grieve as deeply as any of his kin since his passing.

The men dug a shallow grave, and Gisanto’s sister Nadej placed the instrument inside. Balev praised Timoteo’s talent and courage before saying a prayer to Desna, imploring the goddess to send happy dreams of their lost friend to all who loved him. Then Gisanto’s mother prayed to Pharasma to speed him to his final rest, and tossed a handful of earth lightly upon the “body.”

Declan was relieved to see that, after all others walked away from the grave, the men assigned to fill it gently removed the shrouded instrument before closing the hole. Later he spied one of them placing the gusli inside one of the Varisian wagons, where Declan guessed it would remain until one of the children demonstrated a talent for music.

Later, as Declan peered through his sextant to find a bearing on their current position, Ellasif approached. “Is that where your magic comes from?” she asked. “The stars?”

He jotted down the figures he had gained before she could distract him further. “No, this isn’t magic at all.”

“How does it work?”

He hesitated, wondering how much a warrior bred in the Land of the Linnorm Kings would comprehend basic arithmetic, much less the calculations required to determine longitude and latitude. “Basically, I measure the height of the stars from the horizon, and that tells me where we are.

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