Consciousness returned. Gretch shivering in the starless night. He groped around until his hand fell on his greatsword. Standing up unsteadily he tried to guess the hour. It was impossible. Not even the palest light from the moon was visible overhead. He clutched the enamel pendent.

Still cold. I must move away from the river so he can't see where I am.

Gretch limped away from the water and yanked the pendant off his neck. He placed it on a wide flat rock and picked up a smaller one that fit comfortably in his hand. The pendant started to glow red. Gretch smashed the stone down on it over and over again before The Liege could connect to his mind. The shattered enamel tinkled and the red glow died.

Now to hide.

The flier will already be coming.

I must prepare.

He smelled the remaining chunk of horse flesh. It was not rancid yet, but would not last much longer. It was enough to survive on for a few days if needed. Water and shelter were the real concerns. After refilling his water skin he searched for a suitable hole. With no light to guide him he crawled with his nose to the ground, smelling for signs of animals. By the time the sun had risen he had found the ideal place. It was a thin gap that ran the entire vertical length between two outcrops of stone. The gap was deep enough at its base that he was able to crawl in further than the flier's claws would reach.

A family of the large rodents that lived around the rock outcrops had made their nest in the gap. He received a few painful bites while killing them all, but at least he had fresh meat as well as skins to make a shirt from.

He took stock of his possessions - his sword, bow, eleven arrows, two knives, a full waterskin, flint and steel, a length of rope and enough meat to last five days.

Satisfied, Gretch the Hunter let sleep take him.

***

The new day brought new concerns for Alam. Tajar was pale and weak. The chill in the night had taken its toll on his friend's health. His breathing was laboured and he had a persistent wet cough that had kept all three of them awake through the night. Alam doubted Tajar would be able to cope with a full day's trek in his condition, but if they did any less their chances of him reaching the healers in Lasthome alive was doubtful.

"He looks terrible," Frost whispered to Alam. "I don't think he's going to make it to Lasthome." She looked worried.

"He'll be fine," said Alam, but he knew she was right. He walked over and hitched his hand under Tajar's uninjured shoulder.

"Come on," he said as he pulled Tajar up. "Let's get moving."

Tajar groaned as he was lifted. Without saying a work he started walking forward.

"How far do you think before we reach Lasthome?" Alam asked him.

"Don't know. Day? Maybe two? I don't think any more than that."

"Well, let's put on some speed and make it a day then," said Alam.

As the morning passed Tajar's pace slowed from a walk to a shuffle. By lunchtime it was obvious to all that he would not be able to walk much further.

No food. No shelter. Nothing to keep him warm.

"Frost, take this," he handed her his axe. "Tajar, give her your bow and quiver." Neither of them questioned him. Once all of the bulky items were in Frost's hands Alam put Tajar's arm over his shoulder and half supported, half carried him. Frost stared at Alam blankly. He had no idea what the look meant. Their walking pace picked back up. None of them talked, but inside Alam's head was an endless stream of prayers.

By mid afternoon Tajar was being carried on Alam's back. Alam did his best to block out the burning in his legs, but there was no denying that they were growing weak. Inevitably his feet stumbled and they both collapsed. Tajar cried out in pain as he fell.

Once he had taken a few rasping breaths Tajar grunted and rolled onto his back. "Thank you for trying Alam, but we all know you have to leave me now," Tajar wheezed.

"Shut up. I just need to rest for a few moments."

"Frost knows I'm right." Tajar looked to Frost. She met his gaze for a few seconds before dropping her eyes and turning away.

"See?" said Tajar. "Please leave me, Alam. It's fine, I'm not afraid to go. I won't blame you."

"Shut up," Alam growled.

"Honestly," Tajar smiled weakly at him. "It's fine." He turned his head towards Frost. "Frost, you are a remarkable woman. I really wish we had more time together. I'm sorry for any cruel words I said to you."

Frost refused to look at him, instead she kept her gaze fixed on the horizon. "I will miss you Tajar," she mumbled. "I also wish things could be different."

Tajar turned to Alam. He reached out and grabbed Alam's forearm. "Alam. My brother. My friend. It's time for you to leave me."

"I said shut up!" Alam snapped and pulled his arm away from Tajar. "I just need a short rest. Then we can keep moving." Alam stood up. His legs were shaky and weak. There was no way he would be able to carrying Tajar the rest of the day, let alone another day or two. His eyes stung as tears flooded into them.

No no no. It can't end like this.

"Look. There is a horse over there," Frost pointed across the wide river.

Alam spun around. He cupped his hands over his eyes and followed her gaze. She was right. A lone, riderless horse was cantering up to the river bank opposite them.

"I think that's Mist!" Alam said standing up.

"Really?" said Tajar as he pushed himself up on one elbow to look.

Alam took off his shirt and boots and waded into the river.

"What are you doing?" Frost demanded.

"Going to fetch my horse, of course."

"Don't be an idiot. You are so tired that you will not even make it across the river. Even if you did, what would you do if Gretch is waiting for you?"

"I'm prepared to take that chance. That horse is Tajar's only chance of getting to Lasthome."

"I agree, but I will go. I am a better swimmer, and you are weak from carrying him."

"No. Mist doesn't know you or trust you."

"Well at least take a branch or something to help keep you afloat." She sprinted down the river bank to where a thick, dead branch lay half submerged in the water. Alam saw the sense in her suggestion and by using his axe was able to chop the dry part of the wood free. He pushed off into the current and was instantly glad of the branch. Although it was not enough to keep him afloat unaided, it certainly made the swim easier. When he reached the far shore Mist cantered up and nuzzled him.

"Good to see you too girl. How is that shoulder of yours?" He inspected her wound. "How did you get the arrow out?" The blood around it had browned off but it looked as clean as could be expected. She was also still wearing her full kit of saddle, bit, bridle, and saddle bags.

"What a clever horse you are," he said, stroking her mane. He inspected the saddle bags and found that the few possessions they had left the Clan Meet with were still there. What he particularly wanted was the oiled leather bag. He placed all of his possessions in it, blew into it to inflate it as much as possible, then tied it closed. He led Mist by the reins to the water's edge and guided her into the river. With one hand on the upside-down oilskin bag, and the other on her reins, he swam next to her as they crossed the river. The air inside the bag slowly escaped the seams in the leather, but by the time they reached they far bank the contents of the bag were still mostly dry.

Once Tajar and Alam had finished heaping praise on Mist, Frost boosted Tajar onto the horse's back. As they all struck out again to the north Alam closed his eyes and thanked the Heavens for answering his prayers.

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-Y. V. Qualls