Page 46 of King's Warrior

Niam nodded. “This small one probably did. I’ve seen others much worse. One moment a village, the next the earth swallowed most of the buildings and the road.” He urged his mule off the path, cutting through the woods behind the guards. “Casseign’sfamily came from this area, which is why he knows the way so well.” He wouldn’t mention how some of Casseign’s family vanished into such a hole. “Between fires, sinkholes, flash floods, and other calamities, many villages had to be abandoned.” A crumbling manor stood in the distance. “Once-grand places like yonder manor are now home to bandits. We’ll steer clear. They wouldn’t dare attack a party of this size.”

Still, Niam watched for signs of movement beneath the trees. His grandfather had told stories of this area, how he’d once courted a daughter of the house before her father came to ruin and the family escaped to Glendor. So much abandonment in the more remote areas of Delletina. There used to be thriving farms here. Could there be again?

On they traveled, Niam swaying in his saddle. He’d not ridden this long at one time for many seasons. How could one man’s ass possibly feel so numb while his thigh muscles screamed in agony?

Only two more days to the pass, and roughly seven more to Dellamar, Delletina’s capital city and home to the castle. The closer they got, the more Niam worried about what he might find.

That night, they took refuge in a cave. Niam stood at the cave mouth, staring out at the falling snow.

“I once thought snow beautiful,” came a familiar voice from behind him.

Niam kept his position, letting Rufe come to him. He couldn’t show how much he appreciated any moment with this man.

He glanced over, catching sight of dark curls, a warm smile, and a dimple on one cheek. “You don’t find snow beautiful now?”

“I’ve learned snow, like many beautiful things, can be quite dangerous.”

Dangerous, like the smirk on Rufe’s handsome face.

“I…” Niam wasn’t sure what he’d been about to say as Zanial’s approach and subsequent scowl sent Rufe back into the cave.

Niam listened to Zanial’s whining, all while imagining the promise in Rufe’s smile.

Casseign sent men ahead into Telaga Pass as they approached the perfect place for enemies to plan an ambush.

Nothing. Eerie silence. The gloom lifted, and sunshine reflected on blinding snow. At least the weather held. Being in the pass during a blizzard meant certain death, either from being stranded or avalanches.

The entire party remained quiet in the pass, picking their way between the remains of humans and horses, some claimed by bad weather, some by bad luck, others in battle. The mountain kept those she claimed. Removing remains, or even possessions, was strictly taboo. Few dared defy the traditional superstitions. Even bandits avoided the area, also convinced Mother Mountain would take their lives for disturbing her dead.

Discarded saddle packs littered the ground, along with remnants of blankets, clothing, and any manner of personal items. A sheerrock face rose on one side of the narrow pass, with a drop-off on the other.

Somewhere in the mess lay Illa Trandores, Whreyn’s lackey, and the woman who’d tried to kill Yarif. Someone who thought she had a claim to the Delletinian throne. Whreyn would do anything, promise anything to win others to his side. What else had he promised?

Vihaan rode ahead of Niam, scanning the surrounding ground. Day-old snow gathered in drifts, but the clear sky gave hope of safe passage.

Rufe drew up beside Niam, a frown on his handsome face. “Vihaan lost some contracted mercenaries here, one close to him.”

Vihaan stopped, staring over the edge of the drop-off, the droop of his broad shoulders visible even with his hooded cloak.

“What happened to him or her?” Niam had gotten so used to Vihaan’s solid, yet quiet presence that he realized abruptly how little he knew of the man, only that Rufe trusted him.

“Her. One hell of a fighter from the Southern Islands. She survived the battle, but an avalanche swept her off the mountain.” More quietly, Rufe said, “I watched her go over the side and could do nothing to help her. I barely escaped her fate myself.”

Niam shuddered. How many people had he known over the seasons who’d lost their lives to Mother Mountain? Too many. “Avalanches are a hazard of this high altitude,” he said. But not the only hazard. “I’m sorry for Vihaan.”

Rufe exaggerated a shiver, glancing around. “This place brings back a wagon full of terrible memories.”

This part of the pass wasn’t the most treacherous, but none of the mountain passes were without certain risks.

“I was just thinking the same. So many people have lost their lives here, yet it remains the best and safest place to cross the mountains from Renvalle to Dellamar in late fall and winter.” Perhaps added resources could make the treacherous journey through the mountains easier. Maybe a legion of soldiers to guard the pass.

Casseign spurred his mule closer to Vihaan’s. Offering sympathy? Or merely ensuring Vihaan didn’t go over the ledge? Mother Mountain didn’t claim all the lives lost here. Some people freely gave their lives in despair.

Vihaan mumbled something and gestured with his hands, looking upward. It wasn’t a gesture Niam recognized, but it might have been a prayer to one of the lesser-known gods or goddesses. He regarded Casseign, and for a moment, the two locked gazes. Cass averted his eyes first, wheeling his mule back from the edge and taking his place at the head of the line again, Vihaan falling in behind.

Niam felt a chill that had little to do with the weather. Yeah, he wanted away from this place and its ghosts, too.

They rode silently through the pass until Rufe offered, “We hid in an abandoned village near here after the attack.”

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