It was somewhere more than an hour before Caewen was dried off and dressed, though, truthfully, she had lost track of the time. Eventually, the urgent need for sleep, rest and warmth was replaced by the more low-grade pangs of hunger. A look around the main tent revealed that no Biloko were at the cook fire any longer, but strong, delicious smells were forming a haze near the exit. Caewen tread carefully through the tent, and outside.
She had to pause in the sunlight, to blink and allow her vision to settle. Squinting, she looked about. Samakarantha had not been joking when he said the moot was upping tents and leaving. Half the moot-goers were already gone, and the other half were pulling down their tents and pavillions, even as Caewen looked over the landscape. Strange yellow-green-white squares of unhealthy looking grass pocked the hillsides where tents had been standing only hours or minutes ago.
She glanced to her right: sitting around the outdoor breakfast table was Samarkarantha himself, of course, but also Keri and Keru, along with Pel. Cag-Mag Twelveshadows sat a little off to one side, by herself, expression hard as chiselled stone, chewing on a long curve of grass-stalk–perhaps just for something to do. She didn’t seem to be enjoying the experience. Her many shadows were moving gently and sleepily on the sunlit grass around her. When she saw Caewen, she spat out the stalk and looked hard at her with her dark, bright eyes, but said nothing. Dapplegrim, meanwhile, had reclined himself out on the ground nearby, his legs folded under him. He currently had his nose in a large bowl of something: snuffling–snorting–chewing–and when he looked up it was long enough to say, mouth full of food, “Mhorningh.”
“Good morning to you, and everyone else.” Without another word Caewen set about piling a plate as high as she reasonably thought she could get away with. She decided that her plan was to eat to the limits that her skin could stretch.
She did not pause until she’d heaped and piled more food onto her plate for the third time. Finally, feeling less ravenous and more herself, she asked, “So what now?”
“What now indeed?” said Cag-Mag. “I don’t know if I took you for much, last time we met young lady, but I must say, you are tougher than a boiled owl, to have done what you did. Entirely sniffed by rats too, but definitely tough in the fibre.”
Caewen took that to be a compliment. She nodded and smiled a slightly uncertain smile.
Samakarantha spoke up. “But this is the moment for talk. Talk we must. For we still have matters to unravel. We should take among ourselves a council, of a sort. It seems that this Winter King is more substantial than mere rumour and story, and so too is his threat. Fafmuir saw it, but acted badly, and in madness. What shall we six do?”
“Seven,” said Dapplegrim, rolling his eyes. “I am right here.”
“What can we do?” ventured Caewen. “I’ve now seen his armies in the north, through magic and faraway sight. If the visions were true, there is a hammer about to come down on us all.”
“It would seem so,” mused Samakarantha. “and if this wintry being–whatsoever he is–has under his watch half a fragment of an Old Great Spell, he will ransack the world looking for the other half. I wonder if he has some notion that the other half still exists? It could have been pounded to dust or thrown in the sea long ago.”
“And why leave one part with that princeling, what was his name?” Keri asked. “Shouldn’t the Winter King just take it from him.”
Now it was Cag-Mag who spoke. “Whatever he is, this King of Winters is no doubt governed by the rules that govern the magical, the godlike and the spirits of the earth. Taking a great object of power by force can be done, but there would be consequences. Things of power, be they words, secret signs, runes or objects must be traded, bargained gifted or best of all, tricked away from someone. Sometimes the forceful taking of a thing, kills the magic. He would not risk it, and, in time, if The Winter King has the other half, then maybe an agreement might be met. Princeling Athairdrost is among the more lowly in the ranks and royalties of the north. He might be amenable to a grander rulership, in exchange that is…”
Caewen thought about this. “So, what about Athairdrost then? What do we know of him? Could we get his piece of the Old Great Spell away from him? It would be easier than trying to take it from the Winter King.”
Cag-Mag shrugged. “I don’t know much, but some stories I’ve heard make me leery of Athairdrost. A tree that grows bent, does not grow tall. And he is a bent thing, twisted by his own fears and desires. But, all in all, yes, he might be more easily dealt with than our phantom friend the King of Winters.”
There was silence among them for a moment.
“You are sure that there are armies ready to march in the north?” asked Samakarantha.
“If they are not already marching.”
“Well, then… let us think. Assuming they do not come by sea in great force, the most direct way south is through the Dragon Gates of Sorthe. That would place the Kingdom of Brae at the threshold of the first assault. A plan then: I shall travel to Brae and give warning, and also give such aid as I can.”
“I will go with you,” said Pel.
“No. I think it would be best if you return the court of the Pharaoh-Magi and beseech the court for aid in times of strife. The great empires and kingdoms of the sun-drenched lands might not see fit to send spears, but if they can be convinced to spare even a few, that would be to the better. And, though our homelands are far from here, the war will come to them eventually. They must be warned also.”
“We will rouse the warriors of the Forsetti,” said Keri.
Keru was more emphatic. “Ten thousand fighting-spears. A hundred sorcerers of war. The Forsetti sing songs in battle and march barefoot to fight.”
Samakarantha frowned. “The Forsetti are neutral in the wars of the sun, the night and the goddesses. You would not be able to hold to that neutrality hereafter.”
Keri shook her head. “I doubt the Winter King will respect our old boundaries and laws. What if he thinks his lost piece of old spellwork in is our misty forests? He’ll be just as happy to grind us into dirt and ash to get what he wants, surely?”
Caewen thought about this, and nodded, reluctantly. “That is my sense of what I’ve seen.”
A hum of agreement from Cag-Mag. “He won’t restrict himself to those who consider themselves in the camp of the Bright Queen. Avoid strife and strife will avoid you, they say, but it is not always so.” She eyed Caewen. “And what of you? What part for you in this now?”
“Well,” she ventured, “The Pass of Many Faces is to the north of my home. First, I think I must warn Drossel and all the other folk of the stony hills.” She looked at Dapplegrim. “The Dragon Gates are north and east of the Deepwode Glaelds? We could track east from Drossel, along the foothills of the Dragont Highfelds and then turn north into Sorthe. If we go in secret, we might be able to find out more? Maybe even find a way to get to this princeling. What was his name?”
“Athairdrost,” said Pel. “Really, Caewen, try to pay attention.”
Caewen bit back saying anything, and hid behind taking a drink of goat’s milk instead.
“So how will we know where to meet?” asked Keri. “Our father might well rouse the council of chiefs, but where are we to take our ten-thousand spear?”
Samakarantha seemed to mull this over before saying, “Well, if the blow does fall upon Brae first, then you will know soon enough, and you will find me there. If the Winter King intends to strike elsewhere, that is where we will turn out attention. We have no idea of his plans, and so we must react.”
Cag-Mag looked over them all with a wandering gaze then. “This is not a promising start. A few barely passable magicians, an enchanter who tells stories and a talking horse. Oh dear. You can put rocks in an oven, but it doesn’t make them cakes.”
“What of you then? The shadows are between light and dark, and Cag-Mag Twelveshadows has always professed disinterest in the bickerings and wars of the Sun and the Night.”
She furrowed her face into a frown. “I do not yet know. Something in this all feels wrong still. There is some truth we are not seeing. I will not leap to conclusions.” She bowed her head, thoughtfully. “For now, I will take myself off home and I will speak closely to those people who pass by and visit me from time to time. I will look into the air and the shadows, and I will look for truths. If I find that the Winter King does mean to bring his war upon the whole of the world, then I and my folk will side with you. Perhaps, Night and Winter could overwhelm the daylight folk, but I wager they have not reckoned on the shadows and the flames, the ocean, the storms and the green growing forests. If it comes to it, I will call upon as many allies in the third dynasty, as best I can. Though, I admit, not all will heed me and not all will come to give aid. Still, those that do will be powerful allies to have.” A sigh. “If it comes to it, do not look for me. I will find you.” A moment passed, and she added, “But I don’t know if I like your plan, neither. All splitting up? A dog may have four legs, but it is ought to walk one path.”
“I don’t see that we have a choice,” said Caewen. “There is no time to delay.”
“True.” Samakarantha. “I wish it were not so, but it is.” He got to his feet. And we should not delay. I will instruct my Biloko to bring down the tent and pack. It seems we must all part our ways this morning.”