How long? I asked her.

Three days. She replied.

Will you need rest?

When we get home.

Until then?

That’s what’s keeping me going, and the others as well.

Well all right.

We traveled on, mostly in a determined silence, not wanting to waste excess energy. Because of our silence I began to miss my conversations with Unlikely, like the time she explained to me all the Gods and Goddesses worshipped by the Old Religions from Zevine to Lorc and how because of Telné’s rule everyone could only legally worship the one God. Though people did still worship the others. Marta, the Goddess Unlikely was so fond of, was the Goddess of travelers and innkeepers. Niev would always get mad at me for asking questions, never at Unlikely for explaining, and she did the majority of the talking. So after Unlikely listed off all the Deities she could think of I would ask what about the God of fire if there is a Goddess for water, and Niev would tell me to be quiet and then we would get into a very long argument on who had the right to tell who to do what. Was I that wretched that I missed bickering with Niev?

Yes. Éile commented.

And I laughed in spite of myself. I was.

We continued to follow Éile’s lead as the day went on. No true path existed, we stuck with shallow valleys that with the coming of the Light season would be filled with water as parts of the Mountains thawed. Often I walked alongside the horses for it was too treacherous to ride even the healthiest of them.

The sun warmed our backs, but did not overheat us because as we climbed higher, the air became cooler, something I gladly welcomed after so much time in the South Countries. When the sun began to set, indicating our first full day of continuous travel we rested to drink. We began again with Éile leading and myself trying to keep the herd together, for it was night and we were in unknown territory for the majority of them, and they were skittish. As I could see the best it was my job to make sure they did not stray too far.

The sun rose on our second day bringing with it a violent wind storm, blowing even the horses around as it wished. With the wind came a biting cold rain that froze the horses’ hair into an assortment of unfriendly spikes, and despite the increasing want to stop, we had to keep moving.

Éile, who continued to lead us, suddenly slipped and fell. The rain was so cold it froze as it fell, making the path we traveled one large sheet of ice. Horses possess sleek hooves that dig into the dirt, but that is all, they cannot grip ice. I helped Éile to recover trying to determine if she was injured.

“Should we continue?” I asked.

She gave her consent but asked to rest.

I obliged, taking the time to eat and to watch Éile gingerly test her footing. “You’re going to be lame if you keep testing it like that.”

Maybe, she stated, but we cannot waste time.

“Why not?”

Surely Rasul knows that you would head in this direction. He will send men after you if he hasn’t already, not soldiers, but trained killers. We must get home so we can get situated and defend our position.

“There is something else.” I commented. Éile did well at withholding information, but I could read it on her now.

Yes. But we will talk of it later. We must keep moving.

I stayed with Éile at the head of the pack. The terrain was tough and I did not want her to fall again, even though I knew I could not support her against a fall I would at least be able to identify the spot to try to prevent another mishap. With the ground as it was, it was near impossible to talk, mainly because I would not have enough breath to talk and walk. And I imagine we could have communicated by other means, but we both needed to focus on the matter at hand, my curiosity could be held at bay a little longer.

By the morning of the third day we were all thoroughly exhausted, but could feel the altitude change, my ears popped, Éile told me we were close. We traveled on hidden trails now, high above the rest of the land, through meadows, between peaks, and following small streams. After a time most everything looked the same, but Nadejda had been right, the wild untamed beauty that dwelled among the mountain peaks was unmatched by any other landscape I had seen on my journey. But, in all its distinctness I could not safely say where I was headed or where I had come from.

We paused to watch the sun set, and Éile took that as a signal to rush underneath a waterfall nearby. The other horses followed suit until I was the only one left in the meadow. I was not partial to getting wet in this season at this high an altitude, but did anyway, Éile was smart she would not have done something random and foolish. Running through I looked around. The cavern revealed by stepping across the water barrier was unlike any I had ever expected to see. It was carved in a circle almost, but the horses were not here, even though the lot them would have easily fit inside.

A whinny answered my question. The worn cavern walls on closer inspection showed protrusions, shaped exactly like the part of wall they hid. Behind one of these many features where I had heard the whinny was a dark passage. In the tunnel I saw the last horse turn the corner and was out of sight. Afraid of being left behind I ran after them. As I rounded the corner myself, I found a knife at my throat, and it bit sharply into me as I was suddenly jerked to a halt.

“Who are you?” Asked the owner of the knife, a sketchy dark-haired character in Norch.

“Yezebel Torrelyn.” I replied.

“Do you have proof?” The whiskered man questioned, pressing the knife harder against my tender neck.

“Dobhailen!” A young redhead in a worn dress came running up.

“She claims to be Yezebel Torrelyn, but I’ve never laid eyes on her before.” The man explained.

“But she has her horse…” The girl tried.

“What is the name of your horse?” He growled.

“Éile.” I responded.

The man with the knife spared a moment to look among the herd. “And which one---?”

“She’s the red one, as her name would imply.” I replied tartly. “Éile!”

The red mare spotted me, and seeing I was having troubles trotted over.

“Name some of the others.” He commanded.

Líadan, Ciarda, and Céin all came over.

“You’ve proved you’re good with horses, but so are most Norchii. Have you got any other tricks up your sleeve to prove you are who you say?”

“There are so few Norchii,” I commented, “and yet you threaten to kill one of your own because you lack trust in your own people. Why is that?”

“Yora betrayed us all.” He said. “I used to believe that all Norchii would unite under their hatred for Rasul and what he had done to us, but I was wrong. So now I am especially suspicious of Norchii women.”

With a laugh I quickly moved to disarm him, and because he was not prepared for such an attack, found his own dagger staring him down. “You are right to be suspicious of me Dobhailen, since the young woman you speak ill of is my own sister. But I remember you son of Sgeuliaiche, when my father, Ciareach Lunahai left to see my mother, Gobha Torrelyn, and I was left in charge of the herd, you were forever playing tricks on me. Until the Dark Season came and I melted snow and put it all through your bedroll.”

Dobhailen, who despite his whiskers, was not too much older than myself, dropped his jaw. “So it is really you Yeza?”

“It is.” I replied returning his knife to him.

“You look different.”

“Being held in captivity can do that to a person. How are you?”

“Can’t complain. You?”

“I’ve been better.” I remembered the redhead. “Sorry, I’ve neglected my manners, I don’t think we’ve met.” I said turning to her.

“We have,” she smiled in a forgiving way. “I am Tirzah, you saved my brother and I a few years ago when Rasul sent men to our castle. They killed my father.”