‘That is just not true,’ said Ulmenetha. ‘You have
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friends, and you stand by them. You have ideals, and you live by those. You are not terribly honest, but you are loyal.’ She fell silent and studied his profile, then focused as Kalizkan had taught her. Vivid images appeared in her mind, bright with colour. Random scenes from Bison’s life sped across her vision. Honing her concentration she slowed them. Most were what she would have expected, lust or violence, drunkenness or debauchery. But, here and there, she found more edifying scenes. She spoke again. ‘Six years ago you came upon four men raping a woman. You saved her, and received two stab wounds which almost killed you.’
‘How do you know that? Did Kebra tell you?’
‘No-one needed to tell me. I know many things now, Bison. I can see more clearly than I ever have before. In fact, more clearly than I would wish to. What is your greatest dream?’
‘I don’t have dreams.’
‘When you were a child. What did you dream of?’
‘Flying like a bird,’ he said, with a wide, gap-toothed grin. ‘I’d spread my wings and soar through the sky, feel the wind in my face. I’d be free.’
The child, Sufia, came climbing over the backrest. ‘Did you really have wings?’ she asked Bison, as she scrambled onto his lap.
‘I had great big wings,’ he said. ‘White wings, and I flew over mountains.’
‘I’d like big wings,’ said Sufia. ‘I’d like white wings. Will you take me flying with you?’
‘I don’t fly any more,’ he said, ruffling her blond hair. ‘When you get old and fat you lose your wings.’ He glanced at Ulmenetha. ‘Isn’t that right?’
‘Sometimes,’ she agreed.
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Sufia snuggled up against Bison, holding on to his heavy, black woollen jerkin. He glanced at Ulmenetha. ‘Children like me. They’re not so bright, are they?’
‘Children can make mistakes,’ she agreed. ‘But, in the main, they know a protector.’ Ulmenetha gazed fondly down upon the child. Her heart was weak, and, under normal circumstances, she would be unlikely to reach puberty. Reaching out she laid her hand on Sufia’s head, and, for the first time, released the power that Kalizkan had taught her. ‘There is a force in all of us,’ Kalizkan had told her. ‘The Chiatze call it tshi. It is invisible, and yet terribly potent. It maintains our lives and our health. It helps us to repair damaged tissue.’
‘Why did it not work for you?’ she asked.
‘Man is not intended to be immortal, Ulmenetha. The cancer came on too fast, and too powerfully. However, mastery of the tshi is an invaluable tool for a healer.’
Ulmenetha focused her energies, flowing her own tshi into the child.
‘Your hand is very hot,’ said Sufia. ‘It’s nice.’
Ulmenetha relaxed as she felt the child’s fluttering heart grow stronger. It was not healed as yet, but it would be.
‘I preferred you with more meat on you,’ said Bison. ‘But you do look younger.’ He was about to speak again but Ulmenetha gave him a warning glance.
‘Remember,’ she said, ‘no more stupidities.’
‘If you don’t ask you don’t get,’ he said, with a grin.
Up ahead she saw Nogusta walking his horse towards them. Ulmenetha could sense his concern. The black warrior was a powerful man, not given to despair and negative thoughts. But now his spirits were at a low ebb. Dagorian, Kebra and Conalin rode around the wagon to meet him. Bison hauled on the reins. Swiftly Nogusta
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told them of the killings at the cabin, and the beast that had pursued him.
‘Did you get a look at it?’ asked Bison.
‘No,’ said Nogusta. ‘Had I waited a heartbeat longer I would have been as dead as the two lovers I found.’
‘You’re sure it wasn’t just a bear?’ said Bison.
‘If so it is the mother of all bears. But no, I do not think it a creature of this world. Nothing I know of – or have heard of – could cut a grown man in half with one sweep.’
‘What do we do then?’ asked Dagorian. ‘Find another way through?’