Hunting (15 page)

"At last!" Hawkmarten said, as a shout
rose above the noise. "That's not far from us."

A short enough distance that Ash didn't
bother to remount, following Carlyon through the trees to a split
in the southern edge of the hill which provided a deep-cut channel
for a waterfall.

The tumble of water to her left
descended to a rocky stream at least eighty feet below. The gap
wasn't more than ten or fifteen feet across at top. Three men on
the opposite side were staring at a ledge nearly thirty feet down
an otherwise sheer drop.

The Veirhoi lay tangled in a largish
tree branch, as much off the ledge as on it. As they watched, the
breeze blowing along the split gusted a little harder, whipping
through the leaves of the fallen branch, and sending it rocking
back and forth, perceptibly moving the otherwise motionless
boy.

The Rhoi, emerging from the trees in
time to see this, said: "Oh, Astenar, you mock me," in a horrified
undertone, just as one of the men on the far side yelled something
that sounded like 'hope'.

"The lad must have come off as his
animal avoided plunging into the gap," Hawkmarten said. "He would
have grabbed at the branch on the way down and it broke his fall,
swung him in to the side."

"I can't tell if he's breathing," was
the Rhoi's distracted reply. "Does anyone have any rope?"

On a hunting trip? The keepers had less
than fifteen feet between them, brought along to tie the carcass.
More people arrived, someone suggested vines. The edges of the
split became crowded. Heran swayed again.

Ash studied the crevice wall directly
below her. Unlike its fellow opposite, it was rough and had plenty
of footholds, though it wasn't the driest prospect she'd ever seen.
Her gaze went from a projecting spur of rock to her left, to the
kyola tree growing directly out of the rocky side about ten feet
down. Source of the Veirhoi's leafy tangle, it looked firmly
rooted, and there were other, thicker branches.

Quietly she removed her tabard, slung
it across Cloud Cat's neck, and handed the nearest person the
mare's reins. Working through the gathering crowd to the best
starting place, she knelt and slipped over the edge before anyone
could notice and waste precious time arguing. The Veirhoi had
spent...how long on the ledge already? It was obviously not so
unstable a position as it looked, but waiting was too much
risk.

Ignoring the exclamations above her,
Ash did not allow herself to rush. This was difficult. There should
be nothing in her mind, just now, but the slow progress of
handhold, foothold, handhold, foothold. Her fingers chilled
immediately, and her boots felt huge, even though this would be an
easy enough climb in other circumstances. But it was slippery and
windy and high. Why did that height make so much difference?

She reached the spur of rock, maybe
twenty feet down, a little above the branch of the tree she had
thought most suitable, pointing along the chasm as it did. With
unhurried care she reversed herself, facing out over the drop, feet
on two different angles, bracing against the surface behind her for
a brief rest. Not a good place to jump, but she could hardly do it
from the top – that would only break the branch, as had happened
with the Veirhoi.

"Ash!"

It was Thornaster's voice, so she
cautiously tilted her head back, and saw a great many faces peering
down at her. Finding the Visel, she gave him an enquiring look.
They looked a long way up, distances magnified by a bright sky over
the shadow of rock.

"Can you swim?" the man called, dimly
audible.

"No!" Ash felt her face split into an
involuntary grin. "But the fall would kill me, don't you think?"
Then she banished him as distracting, studying the branch, which
was not as close as she had thought.

"Ash Cat," she said, softly. "Why are
you doing this?"

If Ash Cat answered, the words were
lost in the falls, so she took a deep breath, and leapt.

ooOoo

Grabbing the branch wasn't difficult.
Ash hadn't expected it to bend so dramatically, though, and, for a
terrifying moment, she was convinced the wretched thing was going
to break. Then it steadied and she was dangling in the middle of
the chasm, breathing the watery mist rising off the falls.

"You're doing this because you like to
show off, aren't you?" she said, waiting for her pulse to steady.
"He's not going anywhere. He's been there for a decem. You just had
to be the centre of attention."

To give lie to her words, the wind
gusted hard, and the Veirhoi came within a whisker of rolling off
the ledge. Ash swayed in the wind, wincing as the branch made a
nerve-raking noise. Then, not wasting any more time, she began to
swing back and forth, fixing her attention on the ledge. The
problem here was judging a feet-first leap exactly. Too short and
she would have an opportunity to learn to swim, too long and she'd
bounce off the cliff-face and be in the same situation, but with a
broken nose.

She swung once more, released her
hands, and arced neatly to the ledge, took a tiny, gasping breath,
then curled sideways so that she was almost laying on the foot and
a half wide shelf.

Solid. Safe.

She lifted her head, and for a
horrified moment couldn't see the Veirhoi at all, then realised
that his black clothing was blending in with the growing afternoon
shadow and his blond head was out of sight, hanging over the edge.
At least he was on a wider part of the ledge. Quickly she moved
forward, pulled him in, and tossed the branch into the darkness
below. At first she thought she'd rescued a corpse, his skin was so
cold and clammy. But he stirred, and groaned faintly in pain.

Pulling the boy securely against the
cliff-face, she looked up, blinking at the blue, blue sky. It was
dark down in this rip in Luin's skin. "He's alive!" she yelled, as
loudly as she could manage.

Ignoring the resulting babble of
voices, transmuted by the roar of the falls into something
completely incomprehensible, she knelt beside the Veirhoi, testing
his body for injury. Lots of scratches, but no arrows, thank Luin
and Astenar both, and no wound to the skull, as she'd thought
possible. He flinched when she pressed his left side, just about
where he'd been hanging over the ledge, but there was little she
could do than shift him to a better position for breathing, and
check his lips for blood.

"Broken ribs!" she yelled.

Several people answered, to her
exasperation. She made out a few words, but figured they couldn't
be telling her anything interesting. "Anyone got a cloak?" she
called, her throat protesting the yelling as she did so. "He's cold
as..." She decided not to say 'death'.

There was a pause, then someone,
Vendarri she thought from this difficult angle, pointed to a spot
just above her. She cautiously looked directly upwards. A dark
shape dropped down, wafting away from the wall, and she had to lean
precariously out over nothing to catch it. Not the thickest cloth,
but it would have to do. She wrapped it around Heran's upper body,
then sat down, holding the boy's head on her lap.

Feet dangling over the edge, Ash
settled in for a wait.

Chapter Fifteen

"Am I dead?" asked a faint voice, just
as the sky was fading into a strip of grey above them. Sunsets came
early in Montmoth's mountains.

"Would you be in this much pain if you
were dead?" Ash asked. "Speaking of which, what, other than that
broken rib, hurts most?"

"Broken rib? Where
are
we?"

"Well, if you'd woken earlier, you'd
have seen the loud but unimpressive waterfall just behind us. It's
really in a bad position for viewing, tucked in a crevice on the
flat hill we were crossing. You remember the hill?"

"Yes. Oh, Luin's Heart, that's right.
Per threw me and there was a branch. It must have broken."

"Well, you landed on a ledge and now
we're waiting for someone to show up with some rope." She looked
upwards. "I think most of the hunt's been sent home. Either that or
they've found something more interesting to stare at. I felt like
we were the main exhibit in a menagerie for a while."

The Veirhoi moved, struggled to sit
upright, gasped in pain and subsided.

"Hurts, doesn't it?" Ash said. "I had
cracked ribs once and it was like knives, but with a constant ache
thrown in. You wouldn't think cracks would hurt so much, would
you?"

"Is Per all right?" said the Veirhoi,
after a moment. "I couldn't stop him, he was going like a
bull."

"He'll recover. Bruised hoof,
scratches, no real damage. Do you remember what set him off?" She
aimed for a casual tone, but, really, subtleties were lost in the
roar of the falls.

"No. He just ran mad, took off. I was
trying to catch up with Lauren, then Per leapt sideways on me and
went headlong." The boy sighed. "I thought maybe he'd been bitten
by a snake. You're sure he's not badly injured?"

"Better than you, I think," Ash
replied, electing not to worry Heran with talk of arrows. "Can you
remember who you were with at the time? Who was behind you?"

"Behind me? I wasn't looking behind me.
Why?" Suspicion in his voice now. "What aren't you telling me?"

Ash was silent, looking up at the sky,
and he shifted irritably on her legs. "Damn it, Lenthard. I'll
order you to tell me if I must."

She laughed. "I'm not all that good at
obeying orders, you know," she said. "But, yes, I'll tell you after
all. I don't think I'd like to have it kept from me and you'll need
to know to be quiet about it." She stroked his brow absently, then
recalled herself. The Veirhoi would probably resent such
familiarities. "Um. We think Per was shot, that an arrow set him
off. So, can you remember who was behind you?"

"
Shot
?!" Incredulity, much like
his brother's. "He's...!"

"He'll survive. It was just a graze,
though it'll scar. You going to answer my question now?"

"I don't think there
was
anyone
behind me," Heran said, after a pause. "Not directly. I was
following Lauren, but I went around the wrong side of a rock."

"Can you remember the noise of a
follower? The sound of an arrow, maybe?"

"No." The Veirhoi shivered. "How long
have I been down here?"

"A couple of decems."

He tried to sit up again, lapsed back
with a groan, and passed out. Ash frowned down at him, and explored
his skull minutely, wondering if that was a slight swelling behind
his left ear. Her mouth was dry and she thought about yelling up
for some water or hot food or something. A flask of brandy if they
had it: the damp and chill were making her ache. But that would
mean standing up and disturbing the unconscious Veirhoi.

"How did you get down here,
Lenthard?"

"Awake again, are you? I climbed."

"Truly?"

"Riding and climbing – it's what I do.
My friends call me Ash Cat."

"You–" The Veirhoi fell silent, perhaps
pondering the idea of the gutter seruilis having friends.

Something fell on her head, and Ash
gasped and flinched as it piled on one shoulder then snaked down
her back.

"They finally found some rope," she
said, when her heart had started once more. Another fell to her
left and this one began to jerk and wriggle. "Someone's coming
down."

"Good. I'm starving."

She laughed. "Now that's a sign of a
healthy constitution. I've been thinking I can smell something
cooking, but that could be wishful thinking. Or they might have
roasted us some venison. A little food and a good long drink and I
think I might enjoy a moonlight ride back. I don't often get to
ride under the stars."

"Oh, Astenar, it's forever back to the
palace."

"About three decems of travel, since we
won't be going at a pace worth mentioning, not at night with you in
a stretcher."

Someone reached the ledge. "Hello," Ash
said. "He's got one broken rib and a couple cracked, I think. Dark
down here, isn't it?"

There was a pause, then light flared,
rather to Ash's surprise. The Rhoi's man, Farpatten, stood looking
down at them, an eerie blue glow outlining one hand. Were all
Montmoth's mages in the Rhoi's Guard?

"Now for the fun bit," Ash said. "Being
hauled up a cliff-side with broken ribs. I'd pass out now, if I
were you."

The Guardsman knelt awkwardly and
checked the Veirhoi over, then produced a small flask.

"Drink this, Ser Veirhoi."

The Veirhoi hesitated, then sighed and
accepted the liquid poured into his mouth. "I want to talk to you
again, Lenthard," he said. "Don't forget."

"I won't."

Ash watched as his lids lowered and
lifted, lowered and stayed shut. She looked suspiciously at
Farpatten: nothing ordinary would have acted so immediately after
being swallowed. It must have had some sort of magic-touched
ingredient.

"Hold him upright," the Guardsman said,
lifting Heran into a sitting position. Ash steadied him there as
the Guardsman looped and knotted a sturdy-looking harness about the
boy's upper body, working to create something that would distress
the ribs as little as possible.

The harness completed, the Guardsman
tugged on the first rope three times and steadied the boy's
unconscious form as he was pulled upwards, climbing along the other
rope as the Veirhoi rose into the air. Ash watched them go, lit
only by that bluely glowing hand. She wished she had mage ability.
It would be handy to be able to conjure light like that.

As they rose, Ash began rubbing her
calves, then levered herself into a standing position. She was
stiff from staying in the same position for so long, but feeling
soon returned and she shook off the chill as she waited for the
Guardsman's rope to stop moving about. When it did, she started up
herself. It was an easy enough climb, since the rope was nice and
thick, but she was grateful all the same for Thornaster's hand as
she reached the lip.