The Crowded Shadows (12 page)

“Sorry,” said Christopher, his eyes downcast.

Razi clunked him gently on the top of his head with the spade. “Oh, you are
not
!” he said slyly and carried it over to tie it to his horse.

Christopher rubbed his head, looking confused. Wynter came and gazed up at him until he met her eyes. When he finally turned to her, she shocked him by stretching up and kissing him softly on the lips. He kept perfectly still for a fraction of a second, then he pressed his mouth down on hers so that their lips parted delicately against each other. They didn’t touch, except for that singular exquisite contact. But, just before they parted, the tip of Christopher’s tongue brushed gently against Wynter’s and it felt like he had run his hand all the way from the top of her head to the soles of her feet.

She pulled away with a small sigh and the two of them stood for a moment, their eyes shut, their heads still tilted at the angle with which they had ended their kiss. Then Razi coughed softly behind them, and they turned away from each other, blinking. When they hit the trail again, Wynter was smiling and Christopher hummed quietly to himself as they got underway.

The storms moved in by dusk, and they hurried to set up camp in the rapidly encroaching twilight. They had just enough time to get their belongings under canvas and lay out their bedrolls before the sky opened in a tremendous, bruising downpour.

They dived into the tent and lay in the dark, listening to the rain batter itself into the unresisting forest. At Wynter’s feet, Razi drew up his cloak and curled against the pillow of his saddle. Christopher tightened his arms briefly around her and she felt him kiss her neck before settling down to sleep.

There had been no more sign of the other travellers. As she fell asleep, Wynter thought about them out there somewhere, no more aware of her presence in the world than all the little animals of the night. She imagined their two camps as seen by God, minuscule and insignificant, their paths little threads laid on the map of the world, intersecting once and then never again. Overhead, the thunder finally made its appearance and she jumped as it bellowed its anger to the sky. Christopher took her hand and settled his forehead against her back. Razi snored softly in the gloom. Wynter settled deeper into the warmth of her cloak. After that, sleep pulled her swiftly down, and the world bled away into darkness and muffled sound.

A
round midmorning the next day, the sun finally came out. The joy it brought was short-lived, however, as midges descended in a vicious cloud, and everyone sighed and pulled their scarves up around their faces. Wynter was swatting at the flies and grumbling miserably to herself when Razi jerked his horse to a sudden halt, blocking the path. Warily, she pulled Ozkar neck and neck with his big dark mare. Christopher pulled up behind them, silently watchful.

Razi was staring intently ahead.

“What is it?” hissed Wynter, peering into the forest and seeing nothing.

“Shhhh,” Razi held up his hand. “Listen.”

They sat for a moment, their horses blowing and stamping beneath them. Then Wynter heard it, quite a distance away-hammering and the sporadic shouts of men. Somewhere up ahead, a large camp was being set up, or more likely, it was being struck, the travellers getting ready to leave after having waited out the rain.

Wynter glanced at Razi. Perhaps they had found the owners of that little silver bell.

The three of them slid from their saddles, secured their mounts and took off on foot through the trees. They came to a halt at the base of a small hill, where they crouched, pausing to catch their breath. The camp was on the other side, out of sight, the men shouting to each other as they did their work.

Christopher went to crawl forward, and Razi snagged him by the sleeve, tugging him back into hiding “I want you to stay here, Chris. Keep an eye out for guards, while I go take a look.”

Christopher sank back into the leaves. “What?” he said, puzzled.

“I mean it; I want you to stay here. I want you to warn us if anyone comes.”

Christopher tilted his head back and looked Razi in the eye. Then he turned to Wynter, searching her face. She looked away, letting her attention slip up to the brow of the hill. Christopher’s eyes narrowed. He knew they were keeping something from him. “Let Wynter keep watch,” he said flatly. He broke free of Razi with an upward swing of his arm and began a determined crawl to the top.

“Shit,” spat Razi.

Wynter sighed and they began to crawl after him.

Neither of them could match Christopher’s stealthy speed, and he gained the brow of the hill while they were still only three quarters of the way up. Wynter glanced up to see him pause at the skyline and then cautiously raise his head to look down into the camp. She turned to see if Razi was watching, then jumped, startled, as something dark and low rushed past her down the slope.

She pressed herself into the leaf cover, convinced that some big animal had launched itself over the hill. But it was Christopher, crawling frantically backwards through the leaves, heading for the base of the hill at tremendous speed. He shot past so quickly that Wynter was looking down on him before she knew it. His face shocked her, it was so terrified. His teeth were bared, his eyes staring as he propelled himself away from whatever it was he’d seen.

Razi reached for him and missed, and Wynter understood at once that Christopher had forgotten that they were there. He was possessed only with the desire to get away, and as she watched, he hit the bottom of the hill, gained his feet and fled.

Razi paused for only a moment and then he, too, scurried backwards to the bottom of the hill. Wynter hurried after him. They hit the ground running and took off after their friend, speeding through the trees in silence, trying to keep up with Christopher’s terrified pace.

They arrived at the horses to find Christopher clumsily pulling his mare’s tether from the highline. Even as Wynter ran towards him, he was flinging himself into the saddle, so she veered for Ozkar, expecting them all to mount up and ride as far and as fast as they could. Razi, however, ran straight across the clearing, wrapped his powerful arms around Christopher and snatched him bodily from his mount.

Christopher released a sharp cry as Razi heaved him backwards, then he lapsed into an eerily silent frenzy. Razi had grabbed Christopher’s right wrist as he snatched him from his horse and he pinned Christopher’s left arm against his body as he pulled him down. But even with both arms restrained, Christopher writhed like an eel, and it took all of Razi’s immense strength just to stop him from slipping free.

“Wait now,” Razi murmured. “Wait
…”

With a growl, Christopher shoved back with his heels, and Razi staggered backwards to keep from falling.

Wynter watched helplessly, overwhelmed by Christopher’s soundless, blind panic. He seemed to have lost all track of who they were and what they wanted with him. She had no doubt that, had Christopher been able to reach for his knives, Razi would have suffered for it.

Christopher threw his head back, attempting to butt Razi between the eyes. The blow would surely have broken Razi’s nose had it connected, but he seemed to be expecting it, and had already twisted so that Christopher’s head struck his shoulder and not his face. Wynter was amazed at how calm Razi was. His deep voice remained soothing and quiet, and his face was almost expressionless as he continued to ask their friend, “Wait… wait, Christopher… wait
…”

Then, without breaking his strange composure, Razi suddenly lifted Christopher off his feet and shook him, quick and hard, as if trying to rattle his fear from him. “
Wait
,” he said loudly.

Christopher stilled instantly, his head pressed back against Razi’s shoulder, his face blank. His breathing was rapid and terrified against Razi’s straining arms, and Wynter was appalled by how white he was, at how wide his eyes were.

Razi lowered Christopher to his feet without releasing him. “Chris,” he murmured. “Can you understand me?”

Christopher’s eyelids fluttered and he nodded.

“Just wait a little moment. Just a moment and then we can go. All right?” Christopher didn’t reply. Razi, his arms still wrapped tightly around him, turned his head against his friend’s hair, trying to see his face. “I just need to know a few things, then we can go, all right?”

Wynter did not like the way Razi was holding Christopher’s mutilated fist captive against his chest. He was so much bigger than Christopher, and it seemed brutal, somehow, and cruel. She opened her mouth to tell Razi to release him. Then Christopher’s clenched hand relaxed suddenly against the fabric of his tunic. His eyes slid towards Razi’s voice, and something made Wynter lower her hand, and stay silent.

“Was it the Loups-Garous?” murmured Razi.

Christopher nodded stiffly.

“Was it André’s sons?” Christopher jerked his head in another nod and Razi tightened his arms, drawing Christopher’s hand even further across his chest. “Was it
that
pack?
David’s
pack?”

“Aye,” whispered Christopher. “David’s pack.” The sound of his own voice seemed to wake him, and Christopher became aware of Razi’s arms around him, and of where they were. He flushed and his face creased up with embarrassment. He shifted miserably, shrugging his shoulder, and then his arm. He twisted his wrist against his friend’s grip, and Razi slowly released him. Razi tried to keep a comforting hand on his shoulder, but Christopher shrugged him off with a little wincing movement and stepped away, rubbing his wrist.

“Sorry,” he whispered, avoiding Razi’s eyes. “Sorry… it was the shock. That’s all. Just the shock.” He lifted his eyes to Wynter and looked away immediately. “Sorry,” he said again. He looked at his hands, snarling in disgust at the way they were trembling.

“
Look
at me!” he hissed. “
Look
at what they still reduce me to. I’m… I’m bloody
palsied
. “He broke off with a little cry of self loathing, staggered towards the horses, seemed to change his mind and veered away again. He ended up just stumbling in a circle. “Shit,” he said, finding himself back where he’d started. “Shit.” He lifted his hands to Razi in a helpless gesture. Razi just stood watching, his arms hanging impotently by his sides. Wynter reached for Christopher’s hand. His fingers closed briefly on hers, but then he broke free of her grip.

His sturdy little mare was strolling free, her reins trailing perilously on the ground between her hooves. Reflexively, Christopher crossed to her and fixed the tack. He did not come back to his friends when he was done, but stood with his hand on his horse’s neck, staring blankly into the trees.

Wynter tore her gaze from him. “What are Wolves doing
here
, Razi?” she cried. “I thought Jonathon drove them
out
.”

Razi turned burning eyes on her, and she stepped back at the unexpected rage in his face. In a sudden flash of understanding, Wynter realised that Razi had been handling Christopher as he would a bolting horse. He had been dominating him, using his own strength and will to quell Christopher’s panic and calm his fear, and now that he had succeeded, all Razi’s self-possession had deserted him, leaving him seething and furious.

“Why are they here, Razi?” she asked gently.

Razi just pushed past without answering and crossed the clearing with his head down like an angry bull. Swinging into the saddle, he pulled his mare around, yanking the reins with uncharacteristic brutality so that the big animal tossed her head and snorted in protest. He jerked to an aggravated halt at the tree line.

“Come on!” he snapped. “We’re heading out.” Then he pushed his horse through the undergrowth and into the trees without waiting for the others to mount up.

The heavy foliage made it difficult to ride close and they kept splitting up and coming together, drifting into single file and then separating again. Wynter watched the others come and go through the screen of leaves and the intermittent trunks of the trees. Christopher slouched in the saddle, clucking his horse around obstacles and through patches of light brush. Razi, deep in glowering thought, was thoroughly unapproachable. He stayed well ahead of them, setting a ruthless pace that neither Wynter nor Christopher chose to question.

Eventually, the undergrowth thinned a little, and Wynter took the opportunity to pull up beside Christopher’s horse so they rode two abreast for a while. He did not look at her, though she kept glancing his way, and after a while she leaned over and touched his arm.

“Christopher,” she said quietly. “Are you all right?”

“Oh, aye!” he said. “I told you, it was just the shock.” He steered his horse one-handed around a stump, and forgot to look at Wynter again when they got back on course. “I hadn’t expected them here, you see. Razi had told me they wouldn’t… If I had known, I could have… I would certainly have… you see
…”
He seemed to realise that he was talking in fragments and shut up, snapping his spine straight and taking a deep, aggravated breath through his nose.

Razi rode on in silence, his back rigid.

“I ain’t usually such a coward,” Christopher said suddenly. Wynter frowned and reached for him in protest, but he side-stepped his horse away from her and kept looking steadily ahead. “It was the shock,” he said firmly, as if she had disputed the fact. “I just didn’t expect to see them here, so I weren’t ready. At home, I
know
they’ll be there, I
expect
to see them and I can steel myself. That’s the… it was just the shock.”