Pool of Twilight - James M. Ward [52]
Kern's armor was cold against his skin as he rode, but he ignored it as best he could. He rested his hand on the warhammer at his hip. Already its weight at his side was growing comfortable. Slung over his left shoulder was the shield Miltiades had borne when he appeared in the crypt. The undead paladin had presented it to Kern last night, a gift from the god Tyr himself. Kern was so dumbfounded he would have completely forgotten to voice his thanks if Listle hadn't elbowed him hard in the ribs. The silver shield was without adornment-as befit a paladin-aspirant. Kern would be granted an emblem of his own on the day he became a true paladin. If that day ever came, he thought with a sigh.
They had been riding perhaps an hour when Sirana guided her mount close to Kern's.
"There's a storm coming in off the Moonsea."
Kern couldn't help but marvel at the beautiful mage's voice. It was rich and smoky. Even simple words seemed musical when she spoke them.
"How do you know?"
"Can't you feel it?" A look of surprise crossed her face. Then she laughed. "I'm sorry. Of course you can't. Sometimes I forget that not everyone grew up a wizard in the wilderness." She scanned the placid surface of the Moonsea. The water and the sky were the same dull shade of gray, so that it was impossible to tell where the two met on the horizon. "I can sense the storm approaching. It's like…" She searched for the right words. "It's like a power in the air." She turned her gaze on Kern. "An energy I can feel tingling against my skin. Right now a few snowflakes whirl by, but by evening snow will blanket the land. However, the storm will be less severe farther from the Moonsea. We may care to ride a few leagues inland."
"If you think we should," Kern agreed. "Let's confer with Miltiades."
"It is your quest, Kern," the undead paladin said from the back of his white mount. "We will do as you see fit."
Kern swallowed hard. He had naturally assumed that Miltiades would act as the group's leader. Apparently that was not to be so. He drew a deep breath. He hadn't expected to be giving orders to a legendary hero like the paladin.
Sirana turned toward Listle, who was riding bareback nearby. "What do think?" the wild mage asked the elf. "As a sorceress, I'm certain you can feel the storm coming as well as I."
"Of course," Listle lied, gritting her teeth. Oh, she wished she could wipe that smug look off the wild mage's pretty face. They weren't even halfway through the first day, and Sirana already had Kern wrapped neatly around her little finger.
"Good," Sirana smiled. "Shall we ride inland then?"
"Oh, I don't know," Listle replied, her voice dripping honey. "I'm rather fond of getting caught in blizzards, sinking into deep snowdrifts, and freezing perfectly solid. Aren't you?"
"Well, I'm not certain now," Sirana said without a trace of sarcasm. "You make it sound so pleasant."
Listle glared at her, then wheeled her horse away from the frozen edge of the Moonsea, heading inland.
Kern shook his head as he rode after the elf and the wild mage. "Something tells me this is going to be a long journey," he muttered to no one in particular.
* * * * *
"Look at this." Daile knelt in the leafy litter of the forest floor. She brushed away bits of dry, crackling bracken to reveal a single hoofprint pressed into a small patch of cold mud.
Gamaliel crouched beside her. The great cat had assumed his barbarian form this morning, as he usually did when he traveled with humans other than just Evaine.
"There was a hard frost last night," Daile went on. "This damp spot couldn't have melted until well after dawn. I'd say this track is no more than a quarter hour old."
Gamaliel nodded, his chiseled face intent. "Red deer. A young buck, I would