Chasers of the Wind (35 page)

The horses were walking very slowly. I looked around, standing up in my stirrups, but it wasn’t possible to make out anything farther than ten yards away. After another twenty minutes I could barely see five paces in front of me. We were riding in a thick, syrupy, milky, cold fog.

“We’re going to be wandering about here for more than an hour. More like three.” My voice seemed unpleasantly muffled.

“Don’t be afraid.” The courier stroked his mustache. “We’re in no rush.”

I frowned, but said nothing. He might not be in a rush, but some of us were in a hurry to get to Al’sgara. After four days of traveling, I was entirely burned out. My attempts to call Layen had come to nothing. She still hadn’t regained her power after the fight in Dog Green. I didn’t know where my sun was, who was with her, or whether she’d made it to Al’sgara. What if something had happened along the road? The uncertainty was driving me mad. If I could have, I would have ridden day and night, but I wouldn’t get very far without a change of horses, so I had to conserve Stallion’s strength. Without him, I’d be traveling even longer. By my count, the city was three, maybe four days’ ride away. We just needed to get out of these damned fields onto a regular road. Then it would get easier.

The only thing that warmed my heart was the thought that Layen had managed to escape Bald Hollow.

“Are you thinking about your wife?”

I scowled at Gis.

“Don’t get mad.” He smiled disarmingly, as if he hadn’t noticed my disgruntled look. “I’d also be thinking about her. You’re a lucky man, my friend.”

“I know.”

“Everything will be all right.”

“All I can do is hope you’re right.”

“I never dared to tie the knot with any woman,” he said, apropos of nothing.

“Why?”

Gis thought for a bit and then shrugged.

“Probably because I just didn’t have the time. The life of a courier, if you know what I mean. One day here, the next day there. What kind of woman would agree to that?”

“You didn’t look all that hard. Believe me, there are such women.… We need to stop and wait.” I could not help it. “I can’t see anything.”

“Nonsense,” replied the courier. “We won’t lose our way, I’m telling you. Hey, I meant to ask you about what Luk said about Layen.…”

“No. She’s not a Walker or an Ember,” I replied in a steady voice.

“Then why’d he call her that?”

“I don’t know. Ask him.”

For some time we rode in silence, trying to catch a glimpse of the road through the fog. It was no use.

“Do you hear that?” Gis asked suddenly. “There! Again! It sounds like a bell ringing. Do you hear it?”

From afar, muffled by the distance, came a barely audible “ommm.”

“You’re right. Is there a village nearby?”

“I don’t know, I don’t know.” He looked worried. “It seems we headed too far to the west. If it’s Psar’ki … It’s too early, don’t you think?”

“Too early for what?”

“For services to Melot. Why is the bell tolling?”

“Ommm” was the response.

“Or for whom,” I said, grinning crookedly. “I don’t have a lot of arrows left.”

Gis glanced at my full quiver. “You think it’s the dead again?”

“And you don’t? If they were in Bald Hollow, why wouldn’t they be here, too? It’s a really bad idea to get into that mess again.”

“We have very little food left. And I’m a courier. I’m required to find out what’s happening there so I can report it.”

“Who requires it?”

He remained unfazed. “First of all myself.”

“As you will. It’s your own head on your shoulders. If you can’t stand not knowing, stick your nose in there. I won’t object. But I’m not going. And definitely not in such a fog.”

It would be great fun when a dozen of the undead popped up out of nowhere. Why should I risk my own neck for nothing?

“Are you really that frightened of the ringing of bells?” He was astonished.

“Just imagine. I’ve been a coward since I was young,” I replied coldly.

“Don’t talk nonsense. I saw how you carried yourself in the city. Most so-called brave men couldn’t handle something like that. I don’t understand your fears. There are many reasons why they might have decided to sound the alarm.”

“And I don’t understand your lack of understanding. You yourself said it might be dangerous there. I have no need of it. Plus, the bell is ringing strangely, don’t you think? Sometimes more than a minute passes between the strikes. And sometimes it rings one after another, with no time for the peals to stop. I wouldn’t go there for all the sorens in the Empire. And I’d advise you against it.”

“So our paths diverge.”

My companion said this without malice, accepting my refusal as a matter of course.

“Hold to the west. After a quarter of a league turn north and you’ll get to the road beyond the village. After about three hours you’ll get to the Al’sgara road. I hope you find Layen, my friend.”

“Good luck. If you change your mind, chase after me. I’ll ride slowly.”

The courier waved his hand, and after several seconds the fog swallowed both him and his horse. I listened to the random ringing of the bell a few more times; then I commanded Stallion, “Onward.”

For some reason I recalled Shen at this moment. Did he survive? Why did he fall behind? Did he manage to escape Bald Hollow? He was an impudent pup, but I didn’t want him to be dead.

Ommm.

Even if everything was all right in the village and they were just getting drunk over someone’s wedding or funeral, I saw no reason to tarry. Gis was an utter fool. What came over him?

The sound of the bell and the density of the fog twisted into a nightmarish specter, and I was glad that I don’t have a healthy imagination. That would be really bad. I’d be expecting something to jump out at me every second.

I’d been riding for quite a while, but I knew that I hadn’t traveled very far. Every now and then we came across wide ditches and irrigation canals, and then the peasants’ fields began. I had to circle around, holding to the right, and twice double back in order to avoid a shallow but long ravine. While I was bobbing and weaving, a light wind sprang up from the south, and the fog began to thin out. It no longer hung in a dense veil; gaps began appearing and the visibility improved. Now I could easily make out what was located fifteen yards away from me.

BOMMM!

The sound was so distinct that I flinched. I looked to the right. A dark spot stood out through the snow-white haze. Without realizing it, I had come far closer to the village than I wanted. I could see the houses on the outskirts.

BOMMM!

Damn that bell-ringer! Why didn’t his kin drag him out of the bell tower? Did they really enjoy it? Cursing under my breath, I directed Stallion back into the field, away from the village. Every now and then I looked over my shoulder; then I couldn’t take it anymore so I paused and strung my bow. Regardless of how large and unwieldy my weapon was for shooting from the saddle, I’d have to manage.

After a few minutes Stallion stopped abruptly and snorted irritably. Our path was blocked by a high fence. Right beyond it I could see some buildings.

BOMMM!

What bad luck! I still contrived to lose my way and once again enter the village. Turns out I was going in circles.

BOMMM!

It seemed I couldn’t avoid Psar’ki.

“Shall we go through the village, my friend?” I asked Stallion.

He made no objection and peaceably jerked his ears.

“Well, so it’s decided,” I muttered and gently squeezed with my knees (my hands were occupied by the bow and I couldn’t be distracted by the reins), causing the animal to move along the fence.

To the right and the left neat rows of low peasant houses appeared out of the fog. The doors were shut, the windows whole; there were no signs of destruction. Not even the flower beds were trampled. The street was empty. No children, no chickens, no cats, no dogs. It was as if everyone disappeared at once. A loaded wagon was abandoned on the dusty road near a particularly nice house. Not even the smallest waft of smoke could be seen over the chimneys.

The gate that led into one of the houses was wide open. I cast a quick glance at the rickety shack, old and untidy, which seemed completely out of place on such a prosperous street. The door was torn from its hinges. The dark gap of the doorway yawned like the wide-open jaws of a demon. I quickly rode away. Just in case.

The fog thinned out more, the visibility improved, and I spied a wooden House of Melot and a bell tower, whose top was lost in the white haze.

BOMMM!

Amidst the deafening silence, the ringing of the bell was unexpectedly piercing. Wrong. Blasphemous. It was like screaming raucous tavern songs in a cemetery. I looked around but didn’t see anything suspicious. I led Stallion to a fence and tied him up. I had to find out who was up there. My hands were itching with a burning desire to throw the idiotic bell ringer from the very top of the tower. So that he’d land face-first on the ground.

The door of the bell tower was wide open.

BOMMM!

“Hold on, you louse,” I hissed. I put my bow in my left hand, as it would be useless in such a cramped space, pulled the axe from my belt, and began to climb the narrow spiral staircase. The boards under my feet creaked treacherously, and I winced, annoyed at the old building. Whoever was on the bell platform could probably hear me.

All that remained was one flight of stairs. I scaled it in three jumps, burst out onto the landing, and nearly crashed into the bell ringer. Or more precisely, his legs.

Some clever prankster had hung the unfortunate man by a rope attached to the clapper of the small bell. Gentle breezes caused the body to sway slightly. That’s where the ringing of the bell was coming from.

It was all so much worse than I had thought. If you go around hanging bell ringers in Melot’s House, then you are a very daring and fearless person indeed. What had they done with the others?

I had to tinker about before I could cut the rope from his scrawny neck. The corpse thudded down onto the boards below and the bell finally fell silent.

I stood on the platform, visible to all. Unfortunately, below the railing the fog was thick and I couldn’t get a good look around. I’d have to ride onward blindly, but I had to get to the road as soon as possible. The people who so thirsted to hear the ringing of the bell might show up here at any moment to find out why it had been silenced. I needed to get back to the fields to avoid the people who hanged that poor soul. I started to make my way down, hoping that Gis was still safe and sound. While I was fooling around up top, nothing had changed on the village street. Stallion was waiting for me where I’d left him. The horse trod lightly, the fog muffling the sounds of his hooves so well I had no fear of being overheard.

A saddled horse suddenly jumped out from behind the tall fence and almost flew right by me, but at the last moment I managed to grab it by the halter. The beast belonged to Gis. Melot! What had befallen the courier? Fly could have escaped if she was poorly tied up. But there was a worse possibility; Gis could have been killed. The whole question was, who or what did it? The courier had clearly fallen on some bad luck, but he had only himself to blame for it. I wouldn’t search for him to find out what happened. He had his own concerns, and I had mine. I didn’t need to lay another’s idiocy on my own head.

I had almost exited the village when I spotted figures in the fog. I sharply reined in Stallion and slipped from the saddle.

Had I been seen?

I led the animals backward, praying to Melot that they wouldn’t inadvertently start neighing. Now the sound of their hooves didn’t seem as quiet as before. Leaving the horses in the care of the nearest fence, I armed myself with my bow and, not taking my eyes off the foggy veil, walked forward.

There were six of them. Swarthy, with black mustaches and shaved heads. Wearing saffron-colored robes and turbans. Costly, wide belts, curved sabers, small composite bows. I hadn’t expected an encounter with Sdisian warriors in the heartland of the Empire. There was no time to think about how they came to be here or what they wanted. I saw Gis in the midst of the six soldiers. He was lying on the ground, bound hand and foot, and the bald men were standing over him, apparently having a lively debate in their guttural, melodious language about the best way to finish him off. The men were so engrossed in their conversation that they didn’t notice me in the slightest. It would be a sin to throw away such a chance.

Before they came to their senses and realized where the arrows were flying from, I killed one and seriously wounded another. Two of them rushed toward their horses, and while a third reached for his bow, the fourth drew his sword, clearly intending to finish Gis off. I had to hurry.

My cheek felt the momentary brush of feathers and a soldier dressed in saffron fell to the ground next to the courier.

One less.

I outpaced the archer by a second. He had just about completed taking his aim at me, but my arrow caught him in the chest and he didn’t get me. His short bow, which was no match for mine, trembled in his enfeebled hands.

Meanwhile, the two horsemen were rushing at me, howling and waving their sabers. It was useless to run, too late to shoot. At the last moment, right before I was crushed by a charging horse, I jumped to the side and ducked to avoid a blade. Both my opponents flew by me and disappeared into the fog before I had a chance to take aim.

Of course, they did return.

As soon as a dark splotch appeared in the white shroud, I shot and a Sdisian fell from his horse. The last of this bizarre company was a cunning fellow. He did not rush right at me, but dismounted and almost got me, leaping out from a completely unexpected direction. Only Gis’s outcry warned me of the danger. I didn’t have time to use my bow. I had to scamper away from the saber of the dark-skinned freak in the most comical manner. He charged after me, bellowing challengingly, but I have to say that the bandy-legged klutz didn’t run nearly as fast as he should have. As soon as there was enough distance between us, I shot the man easily.