The Ring Оf Fire. The Wolf Bell

The path was rough, blocked by jagged outcroppings, narrow and uncertain; they climbed northward up over the rim of Scar Mountain, and as night came the wind blew wild and cold as if icy hands pushed at their backs. Ram trudged on silently, leading the willing pony. Tayba shivered, chilled through, aching from the long climb. She missed Gredillon’s warm hearth. Near dark they found a shallow cave for shelter and built a little fire from brush and twigs, to half cook the rock hare Gredillon had tied to the pack. This would be their last fire for some time. For on the following evening they stood well down the mountain’s north slope staring out over the black plain, both afraid to build a fire that would be seen by someone—something—that might be watching unexpectedly from that desolate expanse. The wind bit through their clothes bitter cold, the blackened plain swept away alien and immense. Ram pushed on, saying little, but Tayba stared out at the gathering dusk over that empty plain and knew, suddenly and painfully, that they could not go there. They would die there. They must turn back in the morning, while still they could.

“We will go on,” Ram said, looking at her coldly. “And we will go on tonight for a little while. It looks—it looks more sheltered there, farther down.” He frowned and looked away, then forced the mare on, holding her head so she wouldn’t stumble among the shadowed rocks. Mamen puzzled him. Why was she so reluctant? He could feel nothing but her hesitancy, her fear. Below them on the plain, dark boulders rose twisting into nightmare shapes, seemed to grow larger as the light faded.

Tayba followed him reluctantly, thinking they had too little food to cross that immense expanse, thinking of a hundred excuses. What if the mare should break a leg? The plain was wrought with malevolence, she could sense it. Perhaps an evil had been laid upon it by the gods to protect the ruined city that lay ahead in the black mountains. Surely the gods would prevent them from crossing to that place.

Ram turned, scowling at her, then stopped abruptly, turned to stare behind them not toward Zandour, but in the direction of Pelli. Fear touched him, cold and hard. EnDwyl and an apprentice Seer had left Pelli this hour. “They are following us, Mamen. They ride big, rough horses that can cover many more miles than we can. The Seer knows my fear. He knows, Mamen, he makes in your mind the fear you feel. It is hard to—I cannot block him. He is too strong.” He took the mare’s bridle and pulled her on down the slope so fast she nearly fell, then turned to steady her. Behind him, Tayba stared back at the darkening mountain they had crossed and felt the vast emptiness and their utter aloneness here and tried to put down her fear and could not.

They kept on until it was too dark to see, then crouched behind a shallow outcropping, made a cold meal of mountain meat, and wrapped in their blankets. The mare grazed as best she could on the sparse grass. They slept little, and Ram tossed restlessly, feeling the Seer’s cold presence, trying to strengthen his own forces against the man’s power. They were awake at first light. Ram watched Tayba stare out toward the far mountains, nearly lost in low cloud, and felt her increased conviction that they could never reach those peaks.

“We can’t go on, Ram. We will . . . we will die out there. Would it be so bad to be a Pellian Seer?”

He flung the saddle on the mare irritably and secured the packs. “We won’t die. Come on. Walking will warm you. You’ll feel better when we’re moving.” He watched her share out the meager meal, ate quickly, then set out. She followed him sullenly. They came down onto the plain at last between monster-shaped black boulders. The wind swept at them like knives of ice. They tried to walk in the shelter of the mare, and she in turn pressed against them and kept wanting to turn tail to the wind.

They had gone well out onto the plain among the twisted boulders when Tayba began suddenly to feel comforted and to know that it would be safe to turn back. Something so warm enfolded her, something so familiar and welcome. EnDwyl would care for them. EnDwyl meant only to help Ram, surely they should wait for him. Eagerly she looked ahead to Ram and saw him turn, stare back at her in anger. Well, she thought, he didn’t understand. EnDwyl would make the Seers of Pelli help him. Ram could come into his full power only through those Seers, she realized. He would learn skills with them that Gredillon could never have taught him.