of him. Here. Now. Debora, Alessandro, the fog, the horse, the trees, the grass and marshes – and Tallow. Unlike his fading memories, every step he took, every intake of breath, only sharpened his remembrance of her, his desire to find her, to be with her. It was acute. Was that what a pledge did? Bond you to your promise so it became a part of your very being? Or was that just his previously suppressed feelings for Tallow finding expression?
The land suddenly dipped away and Debora and Alessandro halted at the top of a precipice. Dante joined them and looked at the sight that opened before him.
Nestled in a valley ringed by skeletal trees and with a stream running noisily through it were a scattering of stagnant ponds that seemed a feature of the Limen. Vapour hovered over the area, thinning in patches to reveal what might pass for a town. Pitched in a semi-circular pattern around a huge cave mouth that was cut into the cliff opposite were a series of dun-coloured, canvas tents, some large, some quite small.
Dante was disappointed. This was not what he expected.
‘Welcome to Settlement,’ said Debora softly, half-turning and giving Dante a small smile. ‘The home of the Bond Riders.’ She stepped onto the track and beckoned him to follow. ‘It’s your home now too.’
He didn’t respond.
‘Come on then,’ said Alessandro, and started to descend.
A steep path zigzagged its way down to level ground. Dante was careful to watch where he was walking: one wrong step and he was unlikely to survive the sheer tumble to the bottom, Bond Rider or not.
The lower they went, the more the mist cleared and sounds drifted towards them. Dante saw that the tents were actually quite complex. Some had flat tops, while most rose to elegant points, falling away to varying heights. Others were lavishly decorated, offering splashes of vibrancy in the dismal surrounds. It was only once they reached the floor of the valley that Dante saw green grass growing beside the brook that chuckled quietly over boulders. There were even a few pale flowers, their heads dropping so low, it was as if they were worshipping the water. Groups of people sat outside the tents chatting; others groomed horses, some of which roamed freely, while most were tethered in the trees that ringed the campsite. Smoke rose from fires, mingling with the mist, thickening it in parts. As they walked through Settlement, the talking ceased and, one by one, all eyes alighted on him. Tent flaps parted as men and women stood at the entrance to their homes, arms folded, either whispering behind their hands or studying the newcomer in cold silence.
Dante felt their curiousity, their fear, but also a simmering scorn and distrust. The smile that he’d prepared to greet them fled, and instead he simply gave gruff nods. One or two returned them before looking away. He swallowed. This was not going to be easy.
‘Friendly bunch,’ he murmured. ‘They know how to make a person feel welcome.’
‘Don’t worry,’ said Debora. ‘It’s been a long time since we’ve had a new Rider. They’ll get used to you.’
‘But not to what Katina has done,’ said Alessandro sharply. ‘It’s not you so much, Dante. It’s what you represent – the worst perfidy a Bond Rider can imagine.’
They walked for a while without speaking, accompanied only by the sound of horses snickering nearby and low voices.
‘You like your tents,’ Dante said softly as they passed yet another that had the Papermakers insignia drawn on it – an elaborate scroll with a felled tree across the centre.
Alessandro shrugged. ‘Sì, they’re convenient if we have to move suddenly.’
‘You do that often?’ asked Dante.
Alessandro thought for a moment. ‘Not in my lifetime.’ He looked at Debora.
‘Nor mine. It’s a precaution,’ said Debora quickly. ‘In case it’s ever required. That way, we can move swiftly and take our lives with us.’
Dante absorbed this information, noting the age of the canvas, the way the colour had faded, the damage the eternal damp had wrought on the sturdy fabric, how the trees and weeds grew over and around them. He wondered if these tents had ever relocated.
A gap appeared and he saw a wide path leading straight to the huge cave mouth he’d observed from the top of the pass. Outside were guards standing to attention.
‘What’s down there?’ he asked quietly, nodding in the direction of the mountain.
‘That’s the Elders’ Palazzo,’ answered Alessandro.