Dahrena’s face spasmed and she uttered a harsh groan, slumping forward, prevented from falling into the fire by Kiral and Cara who gently guided her onto her back. She shuddered for a while as her body returned to warmth, finally getting to her feet, a deep frown betraying barely controlled pain. “A rock,” she said. “Jutting from the ice five miles to the north-west. Only one man, but many cats. I think he sensed me. And I don’t think he liked it.”
Wise Bear’s staff thumped hard onto the ice, his ancient face twisting as he voiced a name in his own language. Iron Claw seemed to sense his master’s fury and lumbered to his side with an inquisitive growl.
“You know who we face?” Vaelin asked him.
“Cat People shaman,” Wise Bear said. “The one who set them to war. Cat People named him Shadowed Path. Bear People called him No Eyes.”
• • •
The Sentar adopted a battle formation as they moved towards the north-west, stringing out in a loose but cohesive skirmish line for a hundred paces on either side of the company, the Gifted in the centre leading the horses and ponies. Orven’s company brought up the rear, marching with swords drawn under orders to keep a constant watch on all approaches. Vaelin took the lead alongside Alturk and Wise Bear, Kiral trailing a little behind with an arrow notched to her bow. Iron Claw was out ahead, moving at a sedate run with an occasional pause to sniff the air.
Vaelin was struck by the abrupt change in Wise Bear; but for his creased face, all signs of age seemed to have vanished and he moved with a steady, unfaltering stride, bone-staff gripped tight and eyes locked on Iron Claw. He knew the expression well, a man intent on revenge.
Iron Claw halted and Wise Bear raised his staff bringing the company to a stop. The bear swayed from side to side, voicing a low rumble of disquiet as it eyed the ice ahead. It was different from the usual flat expanse, the surface raised in places to form jagged abstract shapes wreathed in a low-hanging mist. In the distance Vaelin could see the dim grey spike of the rock Dahrena had described, stabbing at the clear sky like a misshapen dagger.
“Good place for ambush,” Alturk commented, eyes tracking over the fractured ice-scape.
Wise Bear strode to Iron Claw’s side and took a two-handed hold of his staff, raising it above his head and standing immobile. He uttered no sound but Kiral’s sudden gasp indicated he had sent a message by different means. Vaelin saw the huntress’s gaze darken somewhat as she stared at the old man, her eyes betraying an even greater depth of awe, along with a clear sense of dread that caused Vaelin to wonder what grim notes rose from her song.
Wise Bear lowered his staff, expression unchanged as he stood, waiting.
It was only the space of a few seconds before an answer rose from the jagged ice, a cacophony of hissing, feral howls, a sound he had only heard from one beast before, but now there were many. He unslung his own bow as Kiral moved quickly to Wise Bear’s side. Vaelin shrugged free of his heaviest furs and moved to the shaman’s left, arrow notched, eyes scanning for the slightest movement.
“There!” Kiral shouted, her bow coming up but Vaelin was faster, his shaft flying free in an instant, streaking towards a silver-grey shape that had leapt into sight from behind a jagged ice pillar. It bounded on for a few strides then tumbled to the snow, lying still.
Wise Bear gave a harsh grunt and started forward, Iron Claw loping in his path. “We should wait,” Vaelin told him. “There are more.”
Wise Bear ignored him and kept on, betraying no reaction at all when a dozen more war-cats appeared out of the ice and charged towards him at full pelt. Vaelin judged them as roughly the same size as Snowdance but of much leaner appearance, their fur patchy and far more ragged, and their eyes . . . Snowdance was fearsome but he had never seen her eyes shine with such malevolent intent.
He put an arrow into the cat directly to his front as Kiral claimed two more in quick succession. The Sentar’s bows also thrummed into life, more cats falling to the swarm of arrows, but leaving six still charging at Wise Bear, too fast for any archer to claim.
The lead cat, larger and even more ragged in appearance than its companions, leapt at Iron Claw, fangs bared and eyes blazing with an unnervingly knowing hatred. The great bear’s claw caught it in midair before it could land a bite, sending it sprawling. It scrabbled on the ice, gathering itself then leaping once more, its wailing hiss enough to pain the ears. This time Iron Claw made sure of the kill, both arms closing on the cat as it sought to latch its fangs onto his throat, ribs breaking with audible cracks as it was borne to the ice and the bear stamped down, his shoulders rising and falling in rapid hammerblows until the beast lay in a broken and bloody ruin.
