I had no recourse but to trust her, though it was a wrench to leave the illusion of safety the mound at my back gave me. Yet that was no real defense against Shuck or the warty thing. My best weapon I carried ready in my hand, and I must be ever alert, not only to any hostile move from Bartare, but also to what might move within the mist.
We faced that slick slope down which I had come, and it was hard to climb this. So engaged, I had no hold over Bartare. If she took off again, I would be lost.
But at last we reached the top and had the graveled rise before us. Then, remembering the trick Kosgro had taught me, I turned every few steps and swept our back trail lightly with the notus, hoping thus to ward off pursuit.
“The mist lifts,” Bartare observed, which was true, but I was tiring, and all I could think of was that we must find a place of refuge. The safest was, certainly, the notus grove-if we could force Oomark and Bartare into it. Once there, perhaps Kosgro could play some trick with illusion that would serve to solve our problem temporarily.
Now we were back on that expanse of rock at the crest And – all was well! Kosgro had not gone searching for me, but sat there with Oomark, now almost as thickly haired, leaning against him within the circle of his arm.
They arose as we joined them. I saw a questioning look on Kosgro’s face. Familiarity with his brutish features had taught me to recognize the small changes of expression. But he asked nothing until I turned to give a last sweep behind.
Then he did say, “Company?”
“Yes, and such as I do not like at my back.”
“Then it is well to move on.”
“Down there.” I pointed to the cliff. I expected some dissent from Oomark, but the boy said nothing. He had remained dose to the man, holding on to one of the big hands.
But when Bartare came to the rock rim, she balked. Perhaps the notus scent was a warning.
“No! I won’t!” Her protest was now in the voice of a stubborn child.
I did not know whether to threaten her again with the branch, but Kosgro faced her.
“You will!” he said, with confidence. “Or else you shall remain here – alone.”
Since she had already run into the mist, seemingly without fear, I could not see in that any threat to move her. But again it appeared the other three shared knowledge denied me.
Kosgro held up his hand. “Listen!”
We did. The clamor from the site of the fell-worm’s death, which had been muffled by the mist, sounded louder. There was snarling, growling – worse I could not identify.
“They have finished what chance gave them,” Kosgro was saying to Bartare. “Those who came too late will have their appetites aroused and naught to answer. It will not be long before they cast about and pick up our trail – ”
She interrupted him. “The Dark Ones hunt only during indraw.” She was like some small creature at bay, darting quick glances right and left in search of escape. So I moved between her and the way we had just come.
“When they hunger, they will hunt at any time. And below lies the only safe place. They will not go there, not even under the lash of some power.”
“We can’t! I can’t!” Her protest was a cry. She had lost the assurance she had shown with me. Perhaps, because Kosgro was more of this world, she saw in him a more formidable opponent.
“We can, you can.” He returned. “It is that or face that which will come. It will come hungry and not to be turned aside. And you know well, Bartare, that to flee such when they hunger is merely to arouse them to greater effort. You run – if you run – to no good end. There is no refuge here, save that below.”
“But the notus is death also!” She twisted her hands together.
“Not so. You have tasted of the notus, when Kilda broke your spell. Has it killed you?”
She hesitated before she answered. “It made me sleep-dream. I do not want such dreams! I will not have them!”
“The notus touched you. But you can shelter in its shadow and not touch it. Neither can those others touch you.”
I do not believe she was convinced, but somehow he had mastered her. She shrank. I cannot otherwise describe what happened to her better than to say she shrank into the girl child she must have been meant to be.
When he beckoned, she went, even though it was plain she dreaded each forward step. And I knew a vast relief as she slipped over the rim, Oomark close behind. Kosgro signaled me. I shook my head.
“I last, and I shall brush the way with this.” I shook the branch, for I thought not only of the unseen menaces by the worm site, but also of the warty thing. Had it recovered from its tongue wounding, it might be following. And there was something about that creature which made it, to me, worse than Shuck or Skark. I never wanted to face it again.
“Well enough.” He lowered himself over the rim awkwardly, as if he found movement difficult. I wondered about his wound. Had his recent exertions opened it? He had never permitted me to tend it, and I could not urge such service on him against his will.
True to my promise, I paused wherever the handholds allowed and swept with the notus. As had been true of the earlier branch, this one showed no signs as yet of wilting or fading. And I made up my mind that when we moved on from the grove, I might try for a second such to hold in reserve.
The scent was strong. I drew deep breaths of it, relaxing. When I turned at the foot to face the grove, I saw Kosgro a little ahead, an arm about each child, urging them on, though it was plain that to walk under the branches there was an ordeal for all concerned.
We went on until we came to an open space where no tree stood, and over us was only the mist-silver of the sky. There Kosgro released the children, and they dropped down, stiff and silent. One might have believed they were pent in the midst of some great evil.
I went to put my hands on the trunk of the nearest tree, feeling once more that most welcome moisture. I ran my wet palms across my face, which revived me as if I had drunk my fill at some streamside. Then I pulled loose my under tunic and tore a strip from its edge. This I patted against the bole, soaking up all the liquid I could find. With it well dampened, I returned to the others.
I had found that moisture so reviving that I could not help but believe it would aid Kosgro. His head was forward on his chest, so I could not see his face, and both hands were pressed to the bandage about him. I knelt and put as gentle a hand as I could on his shoulder.
“You must let me tend your hurt,” I told him. “If it becomes infected, that means disaster, not only for you, but all of us as well.”
He gazed at me dully, as if he did not hear, or if he heard, as if he did not understand what I said. I laid the dampened cloth across my branch, thus supporting it free of contact with the ground, and I pushed aside his hands to unfasten and unwind that stained and dirty cloth. Under it, along the arch of his big chest, was a puffed red line. I knew little of wounds and their tending, but it seemed bad to me.
His head had fallen forward again, and he did not raise his hand in protest. I took up the wet cloth and began to touch it to the red puffiness, keeping my fingering as light and delicate as I could.
He winced and started. Then, as one who steels himself to some necessary pain, his body tensed. Twice I went back to the trees to wet my swab, returning to dab at the wound. The third time I leaned back on my heels. I was astonished by what I saw, nor could I believe at first that my eyes reported correctly. The inflammation was clearly less. It would appear that the notus had more than one virtue for those who could accept it.
For the third time I wet the cloth, and then I wrapped it around him, making it fast with the same pin he had used to secure the first bandage. It was a collar badge, discolored, but still of a First-In Scout He gave a sigh when I had done, his body relaxing.