He found himself becoming angry, and tried to quell it. His sword arm was still aching from the unaccustomed use, and his face was sore and pinched from the stitches. He lay down on the narrow bed. Thunder rolled across the sky, and rain began to pelt down against the window.
Kaelin slept for a little while, and when he woke it was dusk, and he was hungry. Rolling from the bed he left the room and walked downstairs to the long room, where last night’s feast had been held. It was empty, with no fires burning. Moving through to the kitchen he found three men sitting and talking to several women. Two toddlers were playing on the floor, alongside an old grey warhound, who was watching the children with a wary eye. No cookfires had yet been lit. Kaelin felt he could not ask for Chara, so instead he enquired after Call Jace.
‘The chief has gone to the West Hills,’ a man told him. ‘He’ll be back in a day or two.’
Kaelin could no longer resist the urge to locate Chara. ‘And his daughter?’ he asked.
‘She and Bael have gone with him.’
The news struck Kaelin like a blow. It had been annoying to have been left for most of the day, but to find out she had just wandered off for a few days without a word of farewell left him sick with anger. His mood darkened. If she thought so little of him, then he would leave, and be damned to her and all of the Black Rigante. He became aware that the man was speaking to him. ‘That was a good fight today, southerner. Old Grymauch trained you well.’
Kaelin struggled to remain calm. ‘You know my uncle Jaim?’
The man chuckled. ‘Everyone knows your uncle Jaim, lad. He was raised here. He’s one of us. Is it true he thrashed the Varlish champion, Chain Shada?’
‘No, not Chain. He beat a man named Gorain. It was a grand battle.’
‘With Grymauch it would be,’ said the man. ‘You want some food?”
‘Aye, for the road.’
‘You’re leaving? In a storm?’
‘My business here is done. No purpose would be served by-staying.’
The man shook his head. ‘They breed ’em strange in the south,” he said. Pushing himself to his feet he wandered back to a deep pantry and began to gather food.
‘I’ll need to borrow a cloak and a food sack,’ said Kaelin. ‘I’ll see them returned at next tribute.’
‘Watch out for bears,’ said the man, with a grin. ‘In this weather those pistols will be useless.’
‘I’ll remember that.’
‘You want me to leave a message for the chief?’
‘All that needed to be said was said,’ Kaelin told him.
His hood held firmly in place by a borrowed scarf Kaelin Ring made his slow way down the pass. The stockaded gates were closed, but the guards came out from under rough-made tents to open them for him.
‘Steer clear of the bears,’ called the last. Kaelin did not respond. Shoulders hunched against the driving rain he walked on. Chara had obviously spread the story of his stupidity throughout the clan. Yet another reason to be glad he was rid of her, he told himself.
The pass was steep, and twice he slipped and fell, once sliding on the scree for several yards. The rain beating against his face had softened the scab over the cut and the wound tingled and stung. He tried to hold his hood over the stitches, but the wind whipped it back. Within the hour he was wet through, and desperately cold. Even in summer the mountain nights could turn savage. He shivered as he walked. Lightning seared across the sky, immediately followed by a roll of thunder so powerful that Kaelin felt the ground tremble beneath his feet.
Anger gave him strength, and he pushed on. Happily there was only one road, and Kaelin held to it. Had there been many branches to the trail he would certainly have been lost by now. This was a stupid thing to do, he told himself. Since Chara and her father were going to be gone for some days he might just as well have remained in the great house until the storm passed, or the dawn came. Best to be away, though, he argued. Best to put the bastards behind me. A pox on Call Jace and his murderous family!