Chapter 30
I found myself in the eyrie of the Klese. These birds were not only flyers but also warbirds, trained to attack in flight and were heavier built than the lighter faster ones I’d ridden before. There were hundreds of them in the stalls, stalls more like a horse barn then say–a hawk’s perch. Bedded down on crushed pine needles, the place smelled of the woods and a chicken house. Tiny feathers of down drifted in the air and the occasional rustle as one flapped its wings.
A squad of Klese met me at the door, all men and within the quarter hour, they had four birds saddled and readied to go. I had expected my own bird but I shared one with Sergeant Amarice and he spoke very little to me. In fact, he treated me as if I were dog shit on his boots.
I was to take the rear seat so he could pilot the bird and as soon as we were airborne; he slipped his hood over his head and scooted up so that his body did not touch mine.
The birds climbed high above the city. The sight of the buildings dwindled to tiny antlike farms and the ground became a quilt of brown, green and tan with silver ribbons denoting rivers and blue mirrors all that remained of lakes. I could see the far-off glimmer of white that marked the ends of the glacier. We flew steadily towards it all afternoon. Towards the evening, they turned the birds west and down. Only then, did the Sergeant explain we had to change birds at a Border Ranger outpost and rest for the night as the condorlas could not find good thermals in the cooler air. I didn’t care; I was wallowing in despair and couldn’t find my way out.
Amarice set down in a large clearing in the deep woods. Torches lit the four corners of the log outpost that consisted of a pair of towers four stories high, a block house, stables and barracks set in the square surrounded by a palisade fence. Inside the courtyard, there was bare dirt trampled by feet, both human and hooved. I could smell horses and sylphs.
There was a pair of Border Rangers, (called the Anath) waiting for us. They took the birds’ leathers and led them off into the stables while we entered the common area inside the tower on the left.
The Compound’s Commander sat at a sturdy desk looking over maps and reports written in some kind of code. The Sergeant saluted and waited for the Head Anath to speak.
“Sergeant, I am to accommodate you and your…team with fresh birds and rooms. Meals, aid, whatever you require.”
“Yes, sir,” Amarice agreed. “Food, rest and fresh birds.”
“A new team as well,” he added. “Unfortunately, all I have on hand are two new recruits who have never seen combat.” He turned and spoke loudly, as an aide appeared in his doorway. “Captain Andrus, please send in the new recruit, Corporal Shahn.”
“Very good sir,” the aide agreed and Arianell walked in with a younger male that could have been her brother. To say that I was surprised would have been an understatement yet I did not move a muscle.
“Corporal Shahn and her cousin Sinters are both from the Valley of Bothys.”
The sergeant nodded. “Bothys is near the northern side of the Ice Wall. Are you familiar with the area?”
“Yes,” Arianell said not staring at me any more than a curious recruit would have done. “We know all the trails and paths up to and on the Ice.”
“Good. We’ll be leaving at first light as the thermals rise. Do you have experience with the birds?”
“Both condorlas and hawks, sylphs and horses too, Commander,” her brother, Siobhan agreed. “Our family raised the birds.”
“Fast agile birds are needed, not the long distance variety they came in with. See to it, also, will you show the men to their bunks?”
Amarice cut in smoothly. “I will need a separate room for the boy and a guard posted outside his door.” The Commander stated at me and then the sergeant who handed over a letter stamped with Connacher’s wax seal. He read it silently. He did not tell us what it said but rose to take us to a room set aside in the tower and posted the guard himself. It was not one of Amarice’s men, Arianell or her brother.
I found myself in a small room with no windows and the door the only way out. The walls were whitewashed logs; there was a cot, table and washbasin, a chamber pot under the cot and a finely made ladder-back chair. A cedar chest sat at the foot of the cot and was open. Inside were quilts, linens and washcloths.
I heard the sounds of men relaxing, eating and drinking around me as the team entered the barracks and mess hall. I heard the movements of the men who stood outside my door guarding me against them, or possibly them against me.
I felt the bed; the cot was a thin mattress atop a base of canvas wrapped poles and was, not surprisingly---firm. I sat on it with my skin back facing the wall and took stock of my situation. I was cold, filthy and hungry. On top of all that, I was afraid and unable to think clearly on how to escape my fate.