‘ Not entirely beyond, Warleader, if you’d spare yourself but a moment to regard your own thoughts. ’
‘Not now, Bairoth Gild,’ Karsa replied. ‘I am running short on breath as it is.’
‘ Altitude, Karsa Orlong ,’ came Delum Thord’s voice. ‘ Though you do not feel it, with each step westward you are descending. Soon you will leave the snow behind. Raraku may have once been an inland sea, but it was a sea couched in the lap of high mountains. Your entire journey thus far, Warleader, has been a descent .’
Karsa could spare that thought only a grunt. He had felt no particular descent, but horizons played deceptive games in this land. The desert and mountains ever lied, he had long since discovered.
‘ When the snow is gone ,’ Bairoth Gild murmured, ‘ the wolves will attack .’
‘I know. Now be quiet-I see bare rock ahead.’ As did his hunters. They numbered at least a dozen, taller at the shoulder than those of Karsa’s homeland, and furred in tones of dun, grey and speckled white. The Teblor watched as four of the beasts sprinted ahead, two on each side, making for the exposed rock.
Growling, Karsa unslung his wooden sword. The bitter cold air had left his hands slightly numb. Had the western end of the Holy Desert held any sources of water, he would not have climbed to these heights, but there was little point in second-guessing that decision now.
The panting breaths of the wolves were audible on either side and behind him.
‘ They want the sure footing, Warleader. Then again, so do you. Beware the three in your wake-they will strike first, likely a pace or two before you reach the rock. ’
Karsa bared his teeth at Bairoth’s unnecessary advice. He well knew what these beasts would do, and when.
A sudden thumping of paws, flurries of snow springing into the air, and all the wolves raced past a surprised Karsa. Claws clattered on the bared rock, water spraying from the sun’s melt, and the beasts wheeled to form a half-circle before the Teblor.
He slowed his steps, readying his weapon. For once, even Bairoth Gild was silenced-no doubt as uncertain as he himself was.
A rasping, panting stranger’s voice hissed through Karsa’s mind: ‘ We enjoyed that, Toblakai. You have run without pause for three nights and almost four days. That we are impressed would be a tragic understatement. We have never before seen the like. See our heaving flanks? You have exhausted us. And look at you-you breathe deep and there is red around your eyes, yet you stand ready, with not a waver in your legs, or from the strange sword in your hands. Will you now do us harm, warrior ?’