On the Ice Fields of Nadia
B
'ronth the Utalian left in the snow.
Otherwise, B'ronth was invisible. But if a the Utalian's slow progress across the ice of Nadia he would see where the ice was soft or where had the night into the gullies, the unexpected, of footprints, a left after a right, then another left, then a right again, then a left.
Actually, B'ronth the Utalian was not invisible. But like all Utalians, he was a of a man. Within his skin would assume the color of its environment, and completely. Thus, from above B'ronth the Utalian was the white of the Nadian ice-fields; from below, looking up at the sky, he was cold, blue.
All he had been the girl. He had her on the road to Nadia only moments after she had it in company with an old man. From the they wore, they were wayfarers. B'ronth have them at once, across the ice toward them, but he hadn't done that. B'ronth the Utalian was a coward. He the objectively: his people were cowards. The proper time would come, he told himself. There would come a time when the girl and the old man were helpless. Then he, B'ronth, would strike.
The day an Abarian had him a of the girl and had promised him a of gold for her capture, a of gold if he killed her and prove it. A of gold, he thought. He would take her alive. It was a long, cold road to Nadia City. True, B'ronth the Utalian was small of stature, a like all his people. And there were in his perfect camouflage. He was walking across the ice-fields in order to unseen. His and his were stiff. But a Nadian boy named Lulukee, B'ronth had promised the gold, was not many minutes' him with warm clothing, food, and drink. After he the girl....
Invisible, he a where solid ice to the of a hill. Below him, a snow-floored and so away that they were against the snow, were the old man and the girl.
B'ronth the Utalian chuckled. The was up and by the wind. It was a cold wind and it all but B'ronth to the marrow, but the Nadian sun was warm and now to on him with promise of his reward. Shivering from cold and delight, the Utalian walked into the snow-mantled valley.
There would be a of for the boy Lulukee to follow....
"Cold, Hammeth?" Ylia asked her companion.
"No, girl. I'll manage if you will. Is it much further?"
"Half a day's to Nadia City yet, I'm afraid," Ylia said. "We if you wish."
The man was old by Tarthian standards, three hundred and fifty years old. He a snow-cape of which the wind about his and up over his head. "I'm sorry, Ylia," he said suddenly. There were in his which the cold and the wind did not explain.
"What for? You came to the cave. You me here to Nadia."
"When Retoc the Abarian almost killed the White God, I with the others."
"If you didn't you too might have been slain, Hammeth."
"Yet you behind."
"He still lived. Someone had to him."
Hammeth's came in gasps. He once had been a strong, big man, but the life and the had his when Retoc Ofrid, a hundred years before. As a on the Plains of Ofrid, he had in those hundred years. And he had and with senility. "Tell me, Ylia," he asked, panting, "is this Bram Forest you speak of the—the god of the legend? The God of the Tower come to right the wrongs?"
A the of Ylia's face. "At first," she said with a far-away look in her eyes, "at I he was. Hadn't he come, suddenly, from nowhere, at the moment? But then when he did not Retoc, when he allowed Retoc the use of his whip-sword and was almost by Retoc, when he like any mortal, when he—" All at once Ylia was blushing.
"What is it, child?" Hammeth asked.
"Nothing. It is nothing."
"Ylia. You were the of a lady in waiting of the of Ofrid. I was a captain of the Queen's Guards. When Retoc's their death and destruction, I to the with you. I you from infancy. I—" the old man's over with emotion—"you have no from me, child."
Ylia was still blushing. But a replaced the on her face. "Very well, Father Hammeth, I will tell you. There in the as I nursed the to health, as he and move about, as we and came to know each other, I—I him."
Hammeth said nothing. His was stern.
"Please," said Ylia, laughing now that her was out. "It wasn't the of that make me a candidate for the Golden Ape, but—I him. It was a pure, sweet emotion, such as I have before. I wanted him. I wanted to him. I wanted to my life helping him and ... Hammeth ... Father Hammeth ... him. There, I have said it."
Hammeth only muttered. They on through the snow, which here was and so they sometimes to their knees.
"But a girl shouldn't such for a god, so I told myself he was mortal." Abruptly and for no that Hammeth fathom, Ylia to cry.
"What is it, child? What is it?"
"He—he fled. He had much blood and he was weak, yes, but he didn't to protect me. He from Retoc. Is that a god? Is that a man who can to Retoc? Is it, Hammeth? Is it?"
"Yet you're taking the road to Nadia as says the White God will take the road to Nadia."
"Nonsense," said Ylia, away her tears. "Someone has to tell the Nadians what to Jlomec, that's all. Retoc, Retoc will have them off his hand. He'll have them he says. They'll know that he killed a of their blood."
"But what can Bontarc of Nadia—or anyone—do against the power of Retoc's Abarians?"
"The White God could—"
"Ah, you see? Then you do believe, after all."
"The White God or he was," said Ylia coldly, "fled a from Retoc." She pouted. "And yet, and yet he so confused."
"Perhaps he so that the Ofridians might live again in the of their greatness," Hammeth with vehemence.
"You believe, don't you, Father Hammeth?" Ylia asked simply.
"I want to believe, child."
"You're so. You're tired. We'll have to stop and rest."
They were the part of the where the Nadian wind, through the the depression, had the into twice the of a man. They in the of one of the snow-drifts, where the wind not them. With Ylia of from the pocket of her cloak, them with Hammeth. They the cold meat, Ylia looking at the old man with and affection. Her father, he had been the only parent she had known. She closed her and for a moment over the years they had as on the Ofridian Plain, the years of and which would come, the years....
"Ylia! Ylia!"
Father Hammeth was calling her name, urgently. She herself from her reverie. They were seated with their to one of the great snow-drifts, where it off like a suspended, sea wave. With a hand Hammeth was pointing him, out across the ice fields.
There in the soft which the ice of Nadia to a of only a inches, were footprints. They were not old prints, deposited there when some had passed. Incredibly, they were being as Hammeth and Ylia watched, as if by some with no existence. The wind intensified.
"It—it's toward us," Hammeth said, his voice a whisper. Ylia that he was again. Somehow with the years, the and fire had gone from Hammeth's heart. Or perhaps, she in sympathy, the terrible and of Ofrid a hundred years ago had done this to him, had one of the Queen's proven into an wayfarer.
"We'll have to flee," Hammeth said breathlessly.
Behind them was the of snow. To the right, away across the snows, Abaria and the Plains of Ofrid. To the left, not a day's journey, Nadia City. Ahead of them, the footprints.
"Your whip-sword!" Ylia cried. "Quickly."
"I it, but I can't use it now," Hammeth protested. "I'm an old man, Ylia. An old man."
"Then let me have it."
"You? But you're just a girl. You couldn't—"
"Don't you see, Father Hammeth? It's only a man. An Utalian. It can't be anything else. If he comes in peace, well enough. Otherwise ... here, give me that sword."
But Hammeth his with and the from its scabbard.
Just then the and appeared more in the snow. The Utalian was toward them. Awkward, at his own impotence, Hammeth with his weapon.
You who call Bram Forest, Ylia thought, White God or you are—help us, help us! Then she herself for the thought. Bram Forest had her once, hadn't he, after she had saved his life? What help she from a man like Bram Forest? Or was Father Hammeth right? Perhaps Bram Forest had so that Ofrid might one day live again to see the of the gods on Retoc and his Abarians.
Or, Ylia with an of insight, Bram Forest's had been out of his control. Perhaps he was as yet a in a game he understood....
Bram Forest, we need you!
The were almost upon them.
