Viper's Kiss - Lisa Smedman [67]
A while later, something poked Arvin's side, Karrell's hand. Instantly, he was awake. "What is it?" he asked.
Karrell pointed at something ahead. Arvin tried to peer past the centaur but could see only the dark line of the woods, drawing steadily closer. Between the forest and wagon was a flat expanse of snow-covered ground that sparkled in the moonlight.
"I don't see anything."
"Was it the movement near the woods you spotted?" Dunnald asked Karrell. "It's just a herd of wild centaurs, out for a moonlit trot. There's nothing to be frightened of."
Burrian called out to the centaur who drew the wagon. "Some of your old pals, Tanglemane?"
The centaur ignored him.
"I did not mean the centaurs," Karrell told the sergeant, an indignant edge in her voice. "And I am not frightened." She stood and pointed. "There is something up ahead. A dark line on the ground."
Dunnald continued to smile indulgently. "That's nothing to fret about, either," he told her. "Just the trail left by the centaurs through the snow."
Karrell sat down again and turned to Arvin. "Do they always travel in such complicated paths?"
Arvin stood and peered ahead. The line in the snow Karrell had spotted ran in a broad arc from left to right, paralleling the curve of the woods at a more or less constant distance from the forest. But instead of following a direct path, the centaurs seemed to have paused at several points along their journey to loop back upon their own trail. "Looks like they doubled back the way they came, crisscrossing their path," Arvin told Dunnald, who obviously didn't take anything a woman said seriously. "Several times. What would make them do that?"
Burrian looked to his sergeant for an answer, but
Dunnald only shrugged. "Who knows? Maybe they were playing follow the leader."
"Tanglemane?" Arvin asked. "What do you think?"
The centaur shook his head. "It is unusual," he said in a voice as low as the wagon's rumble.
As the wagon drew closer to a spot where the hoof- prints formed a loop, Arvin's frown deepened. Now that they were about to cross the trail through the snow, its complicated meanderings reminded him of something.
"Stop the wagon!" he shouted.
Startled, the centaur skidded to a stop, his four legs stiff and ears erect. The wagon jerked to an abrupt halt, jostling its passengers and causing Dunnald to drop his crossbow.
"What are you doing?" Dunnald snapped, picking up the weapon. "Why did you order the beast to halt?"
Arvin glanced over the side. He had called out a moment too late; the wagon was already inside one of the loops that had been stamped into the snow. "Don't move, Tanglemane," he instructed, reaching for his pack.
"What is wrong?" Karrell asked.
Burrian scanned the open ground around them, his crossbow at the ready. "Yes, what's the matter?" he echoed. "I don't see anything."
Arvin pulled a sylph-hair rope out of his pack. Soft as braided silk, it shimmered in the moonlight. "I'll know in a moment." He tossed the rope into the air, and smiled at the faint intake of breath he heard from Burrian as the rope streaked upward then hung, motionless, as if attached to thin air. He passed the lower end of it to Karrell. "Hold this, will you?"
Karrell took the rope, a curious look in her eye.
Arvin climbed. As he did, the meandering trail through the snow came increasingly into view. From a height, it was possible to see the intricate loops that had been stamped into the snow. The centaurs had not been wandering randomly; there was a design below-one that had been deliberately done. The wagon had halted inside one of its loops.
"The centaurs weren't playing follow the leader," he called out to the others. "They were making an arcane symbol in the snow."
The soldiers, Karrell, and the centaur all stared up at him.
"What kind of symbol?" Dunnald asked.
Arvin, studying the design below, shook his head grimly. "I think it's a death symbol."
Dunnald scowled. "You think? You're not sure?" Beside him, Burrian looked nervous. "So that's what got our patrols."