The Riddle - Alison Croggon [190]
We have come at last to the parting, said Ka. May you travel well, and blessing travel with you.
Maerad stared at him, momentarily bewildered. She realized she no longer needed the pack to guide her and that it would be dangerous for the wolves to travel into Annar, but she felt a sharp pang at the thought of leaving them, a wolfish dislike of being alone. She gathered herself and replied, with the dignity she had learned was befitting of a wolf.
I sorrow to leave you, she said. Henceforth my heart will be dark. I thank you for your guidance and protection.
We have done what was asked, Ka replied. Now we return home.
May you travel safely, said Maerad. Then she was surrounded by noses and tails, as the pack crowded around her to say goodbye. She touched each wolf on the nose, farewelling Ka and Neka last of all. Then, without looking back, the pack turned and trotted away.
Forlornly, Maerad watched them until they vanished among the trees. She sat on her haunches for a few moments after they had gone, lifting her snout to catch their dwindling scents, and then she turned and loped toward the pass.
THE Loden Pass was neither as high nor as long as the Gwalhain. It took Maerad two days to reach the other side. She went as swiftly as she could, a lone wolf moving faster than a pack. She feared that she would be hungry before she reached Annar; she knew already that she had few skills as a hunter, and she did not fancy hunting in the mountains. She avoided the road, using it only when she had no other choice, preferring to run alongside it on the snowy slopes of the mountains.
It was a melancholy journey. She missed the company of the pack, especially at night, when the cold pierced her for the first time since she had been a wolf, and she felt vulnerable without them. She saw no humans and very few animals apart from the birds, although she could smell the presence of other beasts. No doubt they were keeping out of her way.
The sun was already high as she passed through the standing stones on the Annar side of the pass. The highlands of North Annar, covered in a thin snow, stretched below her in gentle undulations, with bare winter trees black against the white, and she felt a momentary leap of delight. This was not the place of wide skies and endless flat plains that she had left, but a landscape familiar and dear to her. But she did not pause to savor the moment; she felt little triumph in coming so far, against such odds. Instead she pressed on southward, wondering what she should do next.
She kept her wolf shape, mindful of Ardina’s warning that the Winterking might sense her if she were a Bard. She was not yet sure enough of her feelings about the Winterking to risk changing back. It could be that her desire to see him would outweigh her longing for freedom, and would betray her. And it was easier to travel as a wolf, despite her lack of skill in hunting, which was much more difficult than the other wolves made it appear. After a few unsuccessful attempts to track rabbits and a farcical moment when she leaped on a surprised squirrel, only to see it dart with a panicked shriek from underneath her forepaws, scratching her nose and then vanishing with a flick up into a tree, she was beginning to feel very hungry.
The following day she came across an isolated hamlet. She waited on its outskirts until nightfall, hiding in a ditch, her nose alive to the smell of sheep and cattle and chickens, pangs of hunger ripping her stomach.
It was thick with the more disturbing smell of human beings, and she prickled with wariness as she crept toward the houses. There were only three, clustered together with their shutters tightly fastened. She discovered that the animals were shut inside large barns attached to the sides of the houses, no doubt to keep them safe from marauders