[Shadowed Path 02] - Candle in the Storm (39 page)

The journey that night was as difficult as Yim had feared, for the crow did not let up. The closer Yim got to the stronghold, the more imperative it was to move past it. Long after midnight, the ground began to slope upward. By then, Yim was so close to the fortress she could see the dim light from hidden fires reflected off the keep’s stone walls. The mountain behind the stronghold rose ahead. Yim climbed it until the sky began to lighten. Then Kwahku led her to a narrow crevice in the mountain’s rocky side. A film of water flowed down a portion of its wall, and Yim licked it until her thirst was quenched. Then she tumbled into sleep where the Devourer waited to trouble her dreams.

The sun had nearly set when Yim awoke. She found Kwahku standing near the opening of the crevice. Before him was a sizable mound of nuts, berries, and edible seeds. Yim had no idea whether it was the bird or other creatures that had gathered the food, but she ate with relish. Afterward, she licked more water from the wall.

“Well, Kwahku, where will you take me tonight?”

The bird cocked his head eastward.

“How about I fly tonight, and you walk? It’s not easy climbing barefoot.”

Kwahku cawed.

“No?” Yim rubbed her sore feet. “Oh well, at least you haven’t given me your pack to carry.” Yim scooped up a handful of berries, and the crow ate them from her extended palm.

Yim’s quip about the pack made her think of Honus, and the thought of him awoke longing. Love for Honus had motivated Yim’s sacrifice, and she was convinced that was the reason why Karm had bestowed her “gift.” But the goddess hadn’t reclaimed that gift, even after it had fulfilled its function. Yim still loved Honus deeply, although her love had become hopeless.
 
I must never see him again 
. Her reason went beyond her defilement and even the fact that she bore Lord Bahl’s child. Yim felt that she had become a host to evil and would endanger anyone she loved.

As Yim resumed climbing the mountain slope, she took solace in her belief that Honus would never face Lord Bahl’s army nor endanger himself for her sake. “Karm,” she said, “I pray for Honus, not myself. Please grant his heart peace. Let him forget me and find happiness with another. Do this for one who sacrificed all for you.”

The night wind blew Yim’s words aloft as it dried her tears. It was a chill wind, for autumn already gripped the mountain’s upper slopes. Even on the plain below, Yim had seen the first signs of approaching winter, which came early and stayed long in Averen. The higher Yim climbed, the more distant seemed the prospect of capture. That focused her mind on her next dilemma. She was with child, and the only resources she possessed were a cloak, a torn shift, and a torn blouse. She had no means to make fire, nor any of the basics for surviving alone—no knife, no pot, and no water skin. In a land gripped by feuding and roamed by the Devourer’s priests, she dared not seek help from anyone. It occurred to her that her destiny might be to die and take Bahl’s unborn heir to the Dark Path.
 
Perhaps Kwahku’s leading me to some precipice where he’ll soar into the void and beckon me to follow 
. At the moment, the prospect didn’t seem so bad.

Kwahku did not take Yim to a precipice; neither did he guide her throughout the night. Instead, he flew a route that took Yim over a fold in the mountain that enclosed a high,
 wooded valley. Sheltered from the wind, the trees grew tall. The crow flew among them, guiding Yim to a spot beside an alpine stream. Yim drank its clear, cold water, which worked like an elixir on her. For the first time in many days, she felt a measure of peace. Coupled with it was the promise of dreamless sleep. Without even glancing toward the crow, Yim knew that he intended her to rest. Already drowsy, she found a pile of dry leaves. There, she wrapped herself in her stolen cloak to slumber, completely unaware that a huge bear sat nearby in the dark and watched her intently.

FORTY

AS
YIM
slept in the hidden alpine valley, Honus began the second stage of his solitary campaign. The first stage had commenced while Yim was still hiding in the swamp. That was when Honus left the army bearing his pack for the first time. Haunted by longing for the woman who last bore it, Honus focused all his thought and energy on finding her. His first task had been to conduct a stealthy and lengthy reconnaissance. He did it in the guise of a peasant, hiding his face in a hooded cloak so as not to alert Bahl’s soldiers that a Sarf shadowed them.

Honus’s observations led him to several deductions. The first was that the Iron Guard was no longer searching for deserters. As a test, Honus had shown himself several times to Bahl’s men while wearing peasant garb. Only once did it provoke a halfhearted pursuit. Thus Honus surmised that
 the search was solely for Yim and she was still at liberty. Since Honus could detect no preparations for a retreat, he assumed that Bahl planned to remain in the fortress until Yim was found.

As long as Yim was at large, Honus planned to harass Lord Bahl’s soldiers. By that means, he hoped to protect her. With luck, he might even find Yim while on one of his forays. Furthermore, if Bahl’s men captured her, he could attempt a rescue. Having formulated this strategy, he put it into action.

It was past midnight when Honus silently crept toward three of Bahl’s sentries. Moving from shadow to shadow, his dark blue clothes and face made him nearly invisible. Meanwhile, his quarry showed the carelessness of armed men who believed they had nothing to fear. When Honus reached them, he quickly killed two before they could draw their weapons, and he easily disarmed the third. Holding his blade against the man’s throat, Honus said, “Be still, and you may yet grow old. Why are you standing watch so far afield?”

“Because I was ordered to.”

“You’re looking for someone. Why?”

“I don’t know what ye’re talking about.”

“You’ve one more chance to talk. Why this search?”

The man said nothing, so Honus cut his throat. Afterward, he donned enough of the slain Guardsman’s equipment to pass for one of them in the dark. Then he disposed of the sentries’ bodies in a nearby well. By the time dawn approached, the well contained eighteen more Guardsmen, but Honus was none the wiser about their mission.

None of the soldiers he had interrogated revealed anything. Honus speculated on whether this was due to discipline, fear of Lord Bahl, or disbelief in the possibility of mercy. Whatever the reason, by the end of the night Honus had given up asking questions and simply slew all the sentries
 he surprised. He briefly had considered using torture to learn what he wanted, but rejected the idea. Yim wouldn’t approve, and he was resolved to be guided by her wisdom. He retreated into hiding only when dawn approached, satisfied that he had embodied Karm’s wrath and that twenty-one fewer men would be hunting Yim that morning.

A sniffing muzzle woke Yim. She opened her eyes to gaze on sunlight and a huge furry face. Yim had never been so close to a bear before, and she froze with terror. “Fear not,” said a voice. “She’s your friend.” As Yim turned her head, the bear licked her face. Rupeenla sat on the ground a few paces away. She bowed her head respectfully. “Greetings, Beloved Mother.”

At the sight of the faerie, Yim ignored the bear and sat up. “Beloved?” she said. “You’ve a strange way of showing it.”

“You’re angry,” said the Old One.

“Does that surprise you? You knew, didn’t you? You knew, and yet you sent me on my way believing I was going to my love.”

“You were.”

“But I had no idea what awaited me, and you did! I’m certain of it!”

“Knowledge isn’t wisdom.”

“Don’t hide behind words!”

“I knew neither what path you’d choose, nor the ends of every choice. Should I have told you that you’d suffer or that you’d save your beloved from gruesome death? Both have come to pass.”

“You could have told me something.”

“I was constrained to silence,” said Rupeenla. “I still am.”

“Constrained by whom?”

The faerie bowed so low that her forehead nearly touched the ground. “Constrained, Most Honored Mother.” When
 she raised her head, Rupeenla’s large cat eyes were filled with such empathy that Yim was moved. “What you suffered! What you suffer still! I’m humbled by the depth of your love.”

“That love was but Karm’s ploy to lure me to Lord Bahl.”

“Was your love for Mirien and her mother a ploy? For Hendric, Cara, Hommy, and Hamin? For all the ragged children and their worn parents? For the slain in Karm’s temple? Love has always been your strength.”

“I was speaking of my love for Honus.”

When the Old One didn’t respond, Yim gazed into her eyes and probed her thoughts. Some were veiled even from her, but Yim found no guile, only sympathy, love, and sadness. She looked away and sighed. “I forgive you. I hurt, and I’m discouraged. But you’re right; what I did was my choice.”

Rupeenla bowed again. “And I honor you for it.”

“But that doesn’t explain why you’re here.”

“To aid you.”

“How?”

“Winter approaches, and foes search for you. You need a refuge.”

“So you’ll take me to Faerie?”

“No. What’s in your womb must never enter the Timeless Realm,” said Rupeenla. “This is a refuge of a different sort.” She gestured to the bear. “This is Gruwff,” she said, pronouncing the name like a short, hoarse cough. “Gruwff will take you as her cub and nurse you through your long sleep.”

“My long sleep?”

“One that lasts till spring, like that of Gruwff’s kindred. With a kiss, I can bestow that gift.”

It seemed a perfect solution, for it would allow Yim to disappear for moons, perhaps long enough for Bahl to abandon his search. Nevertheless, Yim had a special reason to be daunted by the prospect of so long a sleep. “My dreams
 are no longer wholly mine,” she said. “You know of the thing with which I struggle.”

“I do,” replied Rupeenla. “It’s terrible and strong. It overpowered every woman who ever bore the child, but it hasn’t mastered you.”

“Not yet.”

“Nor will it. That much I can say.”

“So I might hibernate till spring, evade Lord Bahl, and find someplace to have this child,” said Yim. “Then what?”

“Do what’s necessary.”

“Well,
 
that’s 
easy advice to give,” said Yim. “It applies to every occasion.”

“But you know what’s necessary,” replied Rupeenla. “Follow your instincts. Though the child will harbor the dark spirit that made his father so feared, he’ll be your son as well. Care for him as your heart guides you, and good may result.”

It had never occurred to Yim that she would regard a child who had been so traumatically conceived as her own, much less love it. But upon considering the possibility, she realized that she could.
 
He’s innocent 
, Yim thought,
 
although he’ll be afflicted by what afflicts me now 
. Yim thought how she might help her son overcome his inner foe, and thus vanquish it from the world. The idea gave rise to hope, the first she had felt since Karm’s last visitation. Then Yim saw the truth in Rupeenla’s words and perceived how love would be her strength.

Yim regarded the faerie. When she saw Rupeenla’s serene but exultant expression, she knew that the Old One understood her thoughts. Yim smiled, and Rupeenla smiled back.

Hope was a tonic to Yim’s spirit as she leisurely strolled about the sheltered forest. It was a relief not to fear pursuit, and she relished it. The high valley seemed like a lofty island of calm in a turbulent world, a place above mankind’s dark deeds. The maples had put on festive gold, while the oaks
 were adorned in subtle reddish brown. The bright morning sunlight even took the edge off her permanent chill. In all, it seemed an idyllic place, and Yim drank in its peacefulness.

When Yim returned to the stream, she saw Rupeenla and Gruwff waiting for her, though Kwahku was gone. The Old One sat cross-legged on the ground before a large, flat rock that was piled high with nuts, berries, mushrooms, seeds, and honeycombs. There was even a plump hare. Then Rupeenla rose and pressed her lips to Yim’s in a long and loving kiss. The faerie tasted of growing plants, long-weathered rock, still waters, and ancient earth. Yim didn’t want the kiss to end, but it eventually did.

“Before you can sleep, Mother, you must fatten yourself.”

Rupeenla smiled in response to Yim’s thoughts. “Yes, I’ll linger with you awhile. I’m honored that you desire my company.”

Then Yim, Rupeenla, and Gruwff ate together, with Yim gorging herself at the Old One’s urging. She even devoured part of the hare, though she had to eat it uncooked and tear its flesh with her teeth. It didn’t feel unnatural in the presence of Gruwff, and the bear finished what she didn’t. Then the three lazed in the sunshine. Yim enjoyed feeling stuffed, and even dozed a bit. While sleeping, she kept the Devourer at bay and dreamed she was brushing her hands over Honus’s back as his runes spoke to her. “Someday you’ll understand,” they said. “Then all your trials will make sense.”

When Yim awoke, she was surprised that she was hungry again, and pleased to see that the pile of food had been renewed. At this meal, Rupeenla only tasted a few berries, while Yim and the bear stuffed themselves again. This began a routine of eating and sleeping that persisted for days. It was a lazy life, for Yim had no need to forage. The ongoing feast was produced by a stream of animal helpers. Mice and squirrels brought the seeds, nuts, and berries. Skunks
 gathered mushrooms and roots. Owls and hawks delivered freshly killed hares. To Yim’s special delight, woodpeckers flew in ample servings of wood grubs. The more she ate, the more she was able to eat.