CHAPTER FORTY TWO

The expeditionary force was strung out along a narrow track by the river bank, pinned there by the prickly scrub which smothered the steeply rising valley sides. In places the river had had to carve itself a gorge and here its banks were transformed into cliffs, clawed at by landslips. Often the way became so narrow - a precipice falling away on one side and the scrub-covered slope rising steeply on the other - that only one person could pass at a time, and then not without danger.
Above one gorge the track had been completely carried away by a landslide, forcing Dan and Chaldez, riding together in the front, to halt. A narrow path struck off up the right, and with no other alternative, Chaldez spurred his horse on to it, Dan and the rest following. The path climbed steeply, and where it rounded the top of the landslide a sheer drop fell away to the debris-strewn floor of the gorge far below. Looking down, Chaldez thought uneasily of the baggage train coming along behind him.
When he was back on the continuation of the original track, news reached him that one of the mules and its handler had slipped to their deaths; he had been too far away to hear the sound of loosened boulders and stones hurtling downwards, or even the cries of terror as the man fell.
Dan said the expedition was fortunate not to have lost more; and the mule had been carrying provisions rather than treasure.
"Well don't congratulate me," said Chaldez. He was sickened by the news, and ordered a halt so that the other mule handlers could perform a funerary rite for their lost comrade.
Afterwards, as they trudged onwards and upwards, Chaldez became conscious of moving on into a new phase of his life; he had spent so much of it on the run from Sigmar but from now on he would be the hunter and Sigmar his quarry, though how he would destroy him defied his imagination. Speculation being pointless, his thoughts became side-tracked, and for the first time in a long time he started to think about Doo. What had become of her? He supposed that she might have tried making her way to Sorrin, capital of Eujinni; or knowing that Felewith was his eventual destination, would she have gone there? He grew convinced that that was what she had done. Yes, she was in Felewith! The thought beckoned him, and he wished the mountains were behind him.
As the track climbed higher, the scrub became thinner; when at last it gave out, the once-mighty Kis was hardly more than a stream, its pools rimmed with over-night ice which melted in the morning sun. Chaldez gazed at the bare mountains all around, and was exhilarated by their rugged grandeur.
That afternoon a snow storm struck, the first of the approaching winter. A howling wind whipped the tiny snow flakes into stinging pinpricks, and it was all Dan could do to make himself heard as he shouted to Chaldez that they must keep moving.
During the night there was another fall of snow, and then the Kiss, having led them into the heart of the mountains, simply disappeared. Chaldez and Dan, shielding their eyes against the white glare, gazed around them and were dismayed; ahead, and on every side the mountains rose up in a continuous chain; there was no visible way through. Chaldez said "We just keep going," and forced his horse forward.
A gap did eventually appear, deepening and widening as they got closer, but what Chaldez had thought was its highest point merely obscured the rising ground beyond, and as they climbed, new heights were revealed.
They were in a world of deceptions in which forms and vistas were invariably misleading: seemingly impenetrable mountain barriers unravelled, and a way through was revealed; at other times they approached a beckoning passage merely to find themselves confronted by towering crags. Chaldez, anxious to find the easiest route for his men, was constantly confounded as time and again the only way forward was up.
Casualties mounted. Falls accounted for some; cold and exhaustion for more. At first, the men were given graves in the snow, and the loads transferred to other animals, but as death became routine, men, animals and baggage were abandoned where they fell. Dan made a count of the survivors, and reported that just half the original number of men and animals in the baggage train were left. "It makes no difference," said Chaldez, "we're all going to die here anyway."
Ahead was yet another ridge, and breasting it Chaldez stared in awe at the spectacular view laid out before him. He thought he must be on the roof of the world, and sensed that the worst of the journey was over. The following day his horse stumbled into a shallow, fast-moving stream hidden by overhanging snow. He shouted out, and when Dan joined him he said "We've done it!"
The stream descended rapidly and then joined a larger one, and the valley was now unmistakable. At its floor the snow was shallow, and quite soon disappeared. Chaldez ordered a rest.
The desolate, mountainous countryside stretched on and on, and unlike the tumultuous Kiss, the river that they now followed seemed to be in no hurry to find lower ground; it forms long, ribbon-like lakes, falling from one to another in a series of low waterfalls.
Of the local tribes, Chaldez and his men saw nothing until a group of mounted tribesmen suddenly appeared from behind a rocky spur, barring the way ahead. Chaldez turned to Dan and said "What's this?" but before Dan could reply, the tribesmen had provided their own answer. With whoops and shouts they charged forward, and at the same time, others came crashing down the valley side, and the air was full of spears.
Chaldez had never before been in the midst of such mayhem. He fought desperately, and it was a while before he realised that he, Dan and many of the other riders were effectively surrounded. Meanwhile, the drivers and foot soldiers were being cut to pieces, and there was nothing he could do to defend them. They were massacred, and when the last of them was dead, he and his companions were compelled by the press of triumphant tribesmen to ride on down the valley to their village.
In the main square they were dragged from their horses, and with much shouting and laughter were jostled and knocked to the ground. After many attempts, Chaldez got to his feet; his assailants had backed away, and standing directly in front of him was a lean, white-haired man whom he took to be the tribal chief or village headman. Dan and the others were also getting to their feet by now and dusting themselves down.
The headman started to speak in a very slow and deliberate manner, and Chaldez began to realise that he could roughly understand him. He was using a much corrupted and hardly recognisable dialect of the Sei tongue, and he was telling Chaldez and his companions that they were his prisoners.
Chaldez stepped forward, and was instantly knocked to the ground by one of the headman's lieutenants. "I am a prince!" he shouted from where he lay. "I am of royal blood."
The headman uttered a command, and Chaldez, blood pouring from his nose, tentatively got to his feet again. He had to hold his nose and throw back his head, and for a while he was unable to speak. The headman waited for him.
"I am a prince," he repeated eventually. "I am on my way to claim the throne of my father. Why have you killed my men and taken me prisoner?"
The headman consulted with his lieutenants and one of them disappeared into the crowd; while he was gone he stared at Chaldez. Then the crowd of on-lookers parted and the man returned, and with him was the small, fat figure of Valtrern. The Laifyan looked at Chaldez without any hint of recognition, and when the headman repeated to him what Chaldez had said he shrugged. Dan called out "Tell him who we are!" Valtrern only looked perplexed. Dan said "Does he know you're a thief, Valtrern?" but at that moment everyone's attention was distracted by a commotion at the gateway into the village; Chaldez turned to see the remnants of his baggage train being brought through it. The headman immediately lost interest in the captives, and hurried away to inspect it.

* * * *

As prisoners, Chaldez and his companions had more freedom than they might have expected; they were hobbled but allowed to move around the village, as best they could, followed always by heavily-armed tribesmen. The other men of the village left early every morning to tend their herds or go hunting.
Chaldez usually sat by himself, brooding, but his companions stood around talking about their days in the mountainous pass, and the ambush. Dan's opinion, which he let everyone know, including Chaldez, was that there was nothing anyone could have done to avoid it. Chaldez decided he was right, and began to think instead of escape.
He was sitting with his back to the wall of one of the stone houses when two girls came up to him; one he recognised as the headman's daughter, a married, plain-looking girl in her late teens. She stood directly in front of him, and speaking in the same dialect as her father had used, asked him if it was true that he was a royal prince. Chaldez stood up. "My father was the king of Sair," he said. "My uncle murdered him and my mother, and I was on my way to avenge their deaths when your father's people attacked me and killed my men and stole my possessions."
The girl looked him in the eye. "Why should I believe you?" she said.
Chaldez looked at Dan. He and the others had moved away slightly, but were listening intently. Dan was mouthing something and nodding his head. Chaldez looked back at the girl, and then made up his mind. He undid the clasp on his travelling cloak, untied the front of his jerkin and showed her the locket on its brass chain around his neck. He explained "In my father's kingdom there is a royal sword, and in here is a gem taken from its hilt. It is all I need to prove I am who I say I am."
The girl studied it and then spoke to her companion in their native tongue, and with a flush of apprehension Chaldez regretted having been so frank with her. She looked at him again, her eyes meeting his, and said "It is not necessary for you to be out here on your own. Come with me."
Chaldez nodded in the direction of Dan. "My brother is there," he told her. She turned and looked at Dan. "He must come too," she said.
She brought them to her husband's house. Like all the others in the village, it had thick, rough stone walls and a thatched roof, but was rather larger than the majority. Inside there were piles of animal skins and some crudely-made stools and a table. She and her friend reclined on a pile of skins; Chaldez and Dan sat on stools, and presently a servant brought them beakers of a hot sweet drink.
Between sips she chatted away about her father, directing her remarks to Chaldez. She told him that he was descended from a powerful Sei nobleman who had settled in the valley and made himself ruler of the Stachaxi people there. Her husband, she said, was very rich; he owned many sheep. Then she said "We are not barbarians. It was the stranger, the fat man, who said you were a warlord with much plunder in your train and that when you came to our village you would sack it and kill our women and children."
Dan exclaimed "By the gods!"
The girl looked at him, startled.
"That man," Chaldez said, "was my guide. I paid him to bring us over the mountains but before we reached them he stole from a chief who was giving us hospitality, and nearly had us all killed. He fled when he was found out and this is the first we have seen of him since then. Your people should know that he is treacherous and dishonest. What he told you about us was lies. He did it for his own gain, you can be sure of that."
The girl looked at Chaldez. "He has been this way before and he rendered some service to my father. He now advises him; my father listens to no one else."
Chaldez stared at the bright doorway, and asked the gods to punish the Laifyan.