‘Good morning,’ said Kiall. The younger man smiled and waved, but Finn ignored the villager. Kiall moved alongside them. ‘You’re out early,’ he remarked.
‘Early for some,’ grunted Finn. ‘Make yourself useful.’ He tossed a rabbit to Kiall, who skinned it clumsily. Finn gathered up the entrails and threw them out into the bushes, then he scraped the fat from the furs and pushed them deep into his pack.
Kiall wiped his blood-covered hands on the snow and sat back on a rock. Finn’s bow was resting against it and Kiall reached for it.
‘Don’t touch it!’ snapped Finn.
Kiall’s anger rose. ‘You think I would steal it?’
‘I don’t much care – but don’t touch it.’
Maggrig moved alongside Kiall. ‘Don’t take it to heart,’ he said softly. ‘No bowyer likes another man to touch his bow. It is … a superstition, I suppose. You see, each bow is made for one archer. It is designed for him alone. Finn makes his own bows. Even I am not allowed to use them.’
‘No need to make excuses for me,’ said Finn sourly.
Maggrig ignored him. ‘When we get to the cabin,’ he told Kiall, ‘you will see many bows. Finn will probably give you one – a weapon to suit your length of arm and your pulling strength.’
‘It would be no use,’ said Kiall. ‘I have no eye for archery.’
‘Neither had I when I first met Finn. But it is amazing what a man can learn when he is paired with a master. Finn won every prize worth the taking. He even took the Lord Regent’s talisman against the best archers of six lands: Drenai, Vagrians, Nadir, Ventrians, and even bowmen from Mashrapur. None could compete with Finn.’
‘Not then or now,’ muttered Finn, but his expression softened and he smiled. ‘Don’t mind me, boy,’ he told Kiall. ‘I don’t like people much. But I don’t wish you harm – and I hope you find your lady.’
‘I am sorry you will not be travelling with us,’ said Kiall.
‘I’m not. I have no wish to have my head shrunk on a pole, or my skin flayed outside a Nadir tent. My battle days are long gone. Quests and the like are for young men like you.’
‘But Beltzer is coming,’ Kiall reminded him.
Finn grunted. ‘He never grew up, that one. But he’s a good man in a scrap, right enough.’
‘Chareos too,’ said Maggrig softly.
‘Yes,’ agreed Finn. ‘A strange man, Chareos. But you watch him, boy, and learn. His kind don’t come around so often, if you catch my meaning.’
‘I’m not sure that I do.’
‘He’s a man with iron principles. He knows the world is shades of grey, but he lives like it’s black and white. There’s a nobility in him – a gallantry, if you like. You’ll see what I mean, come the finish. Now that’s enough of talking. Wake your companions. If they want to break their fast, they’d better be up. I’ll not wait for them.’
*
The snow held off for several days, but even so the travellers made slow progress across the peaks. On the fifth day Maggrig, leading the group, came too close to the lair of a snow leopard and her cubs. The leopard seemed to explode from the undergrowth, spitting and snarling. Maggrig was hurled from his feet, a jagged tear across one arm of his tunic. Beltzer and the others ran forward, shouting at the tops of their voices – but the animal crouched before them, ears flat to her skull and fangs bared. Finn dragged Maggrig clear and the travellers gave the beast a wide berth. Maggrig’s arm was slashed, but not deeply, and the wound was stitched and bound by Finn.
On the following morning they reached the valley where the hunters’ cabin was hidden. A blizzard blew up around them and they forced their way, heads bowed against the wind, to the frozen doorway. Snow had banked against it, blocking the door and filling the window-frame alongside. Beltzer cleared it, shovelling it aside with his huge hands.
Inside was icy, but Finn got a fire going; it was more than an hour before the heat wanned the cabin.