They can be killed, she thought. Father struck one of them and black blood flowed from it. And that which bleeds can die. Banking up the fire, she drew her sabre and honed the edge with a whetstone. Outside the light was failing fast. Sigarni hooked her quiver of arrows over her shoulder and kept the bow close at hand.
Will it be like last time, she wondered? Will the man in red come first? And if he does, how many creatures of the dark will be with him? How many had been back at the cabin on that awful day? One? Two? More? How could she tell? Father had been struck first. Perhaps it was the same creature which slew her mother.
Sigarni had made plans for three.
The wind was building outside, and flurries of snow were blowing into the cave-mouth. A distant wolf howled. The fire crackled and spat and Sigarni knocked a burning cinder from her leggings. Feeling drowsy, she took up her bow and walked to the mouth of the cave, drawing a deep, cold breaths. How long since you slept? Too long, she realized. If they did not come tonight, she would catch a few hours after dawn.
Perhaps they won’t find me here, she thought suddenly. Perhaps I am safe.
The moon shone in a cloudless sky, but the wind continued to blow flurries of snow across the frozen pool, rising like a white mist and sparkling in the moonlight. The air was cold against her face, but she could just feel the warmth of the fire behind her.
Alone in the wilderness of white Sigarni found herself thinking of her life, and the great joys she had known. It saddened her that she had not appreciated those joys when she had them; those glorious golden days with Abby and Lady, walking the high country without a care. Recalling them was a strange experience, as if she was looking through a window on to the life of a twin. And she wondered about the white-haired girl she could remember. How could she have lived in such a carefree manner?
Her thoughts roved on, and Bernt’s sweet face appeared from nowhere. Sigarni felt a swelling in her throat and her eyes misted. He had loved her. Truly, loved her. How callous she had been. Is this alia punishment for my treatment of you, Bernt? Is God angry with me? There was no way of knowing. If it is, I will bear it.
A white owl swooped over the trees – silent killer, silent flight. Sigarni remembered the first time she had seen such a creature. After the murder of her parents she had lived with old Gwalchmai. He had walked her through the woods on many a night, educating her to the habits of the nocturnal creatures of the forest. The old drunkard had proved a fine foster-father, restricting his drinking to when Sigarni was asleep.
Sigarni sighed. Only a few short months ago she had been a wilful and selfish woman, revelling in her freedom. Now she was the leader of a fledgling army with little hope of survival.
Survival? She shivered. Will you survive the night?
Weariness sat upon her like a boulder, but the bow felt good in her hands. I am not a child now, she thought, running from peril. I am Sigarni the Huntress, and those who come for me do so at the risk of their lives.
Moving back into the cave, she added two large chunks of dead wood to the fire, then returned to the entrance.
Doubts blossomed constantly. Your father mas a great fighter ,but he lasted only afea> heartbeats.
‘He did not know they were coming,’ she said, aloud. ‘He was not prepared.’
How can you prepare against demons of the dark?
‘They have flesh, even if they cannot be seen. Flesh can be cut.’
Fear rose like a fire in her belly, and she allowed the flames to flicker. Fear is life, fear is caution, she told herself.
You are a woman alone!
‘I am a Highlander and a hunter. I am of the blood of heroes, and they will not bring me to despair and panic. They will notP