Chapter 5

"Where do you think we are?" Jewel sat down suddenly on a nearby rock, looking shaken.

"We've just come too far east and north, crossing the trail without seeing it." Mak knelt by her side, reassuring her with words that he tried to make sound more confident than he felt.

"These have to be the same mountains we've been heading for, the last half a moon. There sure aren't any others around that big. All that we have to do is to head west and south. We're bound to come out into level country, sooner or later. We'll find the caravan, or at least stumble on a village and get directions from them."

Jewel and Lyssa agreed, and they started back down the mountain. They kept the noonday sun on their left now as they cut across the little valley they'd been following and started up the next ridge.

"Keep an eye out for anything edible," Mak warned. "We don't know how long it'll be before we meet up with the caravan."

In a little meadow a couple of valleys farther on, several unwary rabbits fell to their accurately thrown pebbles. Lyssa didn't have any luck, but Mak brought down three while Jewel knocked over two rabbits from even farther away than his best throw. Their success didn't make him feel much better. It was food, all right, but it was also a sign that nobody had done much hunting through here, and that was about the only thing he was already sure of anyway. They also picked up a few handfuls of edible roots and berries as they crossed over into the next canyon. Mak kept an eye out as they walked, looking more worried as the sun dropped lower.

"What are you looking for?" Jewel asked. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong." Nothing that wasn't already wrong, anyway, he thought to himself. "I've just been hoping to spot some kind of cave where we can spend the night."

They finally had to settle for a dry hollow under a fallen tree. They had lost everything but their clothes to the Krostens, but Mak had picked up some poorquality fragments of flint in a stream bed. He quickly flaked a rough cutting edge on a couple of them, sharp enough at least to skin and gut the rabbits. They had neither fire nor salt, but hunger was enough of a sauce to make the raw meat taste like a banquet. Fire they could do without for one night, though they would have to take turns watching and hope that no large predators came their way.

The next afternoon Mak was scouting ahead for an easier path while the women rested, when a familiar scent caught his attention. That, and a rustling in the brush that wasn't caused by the light breeze! He dropped to all fours and crept forward, clutching a jagged fragment of rock in one hand. More rustling noises, and out from behind a bush stepped a plump yearling doe, not a dozen paces away.

The wind was toward him. He made no sound that could carry to the deer's sensitive ears as it moved slowly toward him. When it was close enough he sprang to his feet, hurling his missile!

The deer tried to escape, but too late. The rock caught it on the side of the head and it fell, stunned. Mak was on it in a single bound, and before it could recover he snapped its neck. A jubilant shout brought Jewel and Lyssa to his side.

While they cleaned and skinned the deer, Mak made a small bow from a willow twig and a strip of sinew. With a couple of chunks of wood salvaged from a downed tree, this made a crude but serviceable fire drill.

Soon his efforts were rewarded by a thin trickle of smoke, and he fed wisps of dry moss to the glowing coal. By the time the meat was ready to cook they had a brisk fire in a circle of rocks. Soon the smell of roasting venison had their mouths watering. They ate all that they could hold, washing the meat down with water from a nearby stream.

"We'll stay here the rest of the day and take care of this meat," Mak told them, setting to work cutting the rest of the venison into strips with flakes of chipped flint. "I have no idea how long it'll take us to find our way back, but we can travel faster if we don't have to stop and hunt for food all of the time."

While the meat was drying on a framework of green twigs by the fire, he used a larger chunk of flint to hack off some slender saplings. Charring the thicker ends in the fire, he scraped away at the burned wood, making them into spears with firehardened tips. With these and a fire to protect them at night they would have little to fear, since the hunting this time of year was good enough to keep any wolves or bears that lived nearby well fed. Whatever meat didn't get eaten each day would continue to dry by their evening fires.

The next few days they were able to travel from dawn till dusk, pausing only when they had to rest, sleeping wherever night caught them. The country gradually became flatter, more open. They watched for signs of people, but found only animal trails.

"I don't see any smoke from village fires," Mak admitted after one of his detours to the top of a nearby hill. "There must not be any people living around here."

"Maybe we had better swing back to the south and see if we cross the trail the caravan followed," Jewel suggested. "We must be north of your country, Mak."

"We could be. I've never been very far to the north. We weren't on very good terms with most of the villages on that side of us." He looked puzzled. "We must have angled too much to the right as we came west. It's hard to follow a straight course through these hills."

"Let's get going, then." Jewel started down the hill.

"Don't mind her," Lyssa told him. "She gets this way when she's away from Nurm for too long."

"Just be glad there's no one with the caravan that you're really attached to," Jewel answered over her shoulder. "We don't know who might have been hurt or even killed in the Krosten's attack."

Sobered by her comment, Lyssa followed her down the south side of the hill through heavy trees. When the going became more open, Mak moved up to walk at Lyssa's side.

"You have no one special with the caravan? You must be much sought after."

"No one person." Her glance was challenging, almost hostile. "There never has been. My father blames it on my red hair, but travelling to far places has always interested me more than the thought of a house and garden, and raising a bunch of children. When I heard that Nurm would hire women for his caravan I signed on right away, and talked several of my friends into following along. Mother was horrified, but Father just laughed like it was some kind of a big joke. I may be small but I'm good with a spear and bow, so I was hired as a guard, not a packer."

"What is your town like? Is it very big?"

"A whole lot larger than Wallen or Arlund, by two or three times. But it, too is closing in on itself. It seems like fewer children are being born every year, and too many of them die before they are even a year old. Nurm could only get a few men to sign on for the caravan. If it hadn't been for some of us girls shaming them by signing on, he might not have been able to find enough hands and weapons to brave the wilderness."

"Nurm isn't from your town? I thought he seemed to talk different."

"No, and neither are Amy or Jewel. I don't know where they come from. Maybe from a larger trading center to the south of us, though I didn't think there were any. I didn't pay too much attention when the three of them came to our town about a year ago. They led several small caravans around to local villages, doing well enough. Then Nurm announced that he would explore beyond the high mountains to the east. The City Fathers tried to stop him, of course, them and the priests. They said that those lands were empty. That no one lived there any more, and nobody should go there. Nurm answered that he was willing to risk his goods if men would follow him. Then they said that he could take anyone he wanted to, but they passed the word that nobody was to work for him."