injured man, and soon left the others behind. She was beginning to wonder what else might happen during such an eventful ride, and muttered a quick prayer to the Goddess for guidance. The track wound through the dense trees, giving no sign of any cover other than inadequate leaves and branches, and she was just about to turn back when a sudden explosion knocked her horse flat. She rolled clear of the flailing hooves and drew her sword. But the only enemy was a lightning bolt that had shattered an old oak tree to splinters.
Her horse was struggling to rise, and she grabbed its reins and tried to calm it as it squealed and shook. Thunder crashed around them, drowning her words, and she was still wrestling with the animal when the rest of the party galloped down the path. One of the soldiers leaped down and helped her force her horse to a standstill.
“We’d be safer in the clearing, away from the trees,” Thirrin shouted, and quickly she led them back the way they had just come. Better to get soaked to the skin than struck by lightning.
But as they rode into the wide glade, they all reined to a halt in surprise. Ahead of them stood a tall cloaked figure, arms folded neatly, its hooded head bowed. What more would they have to face on this busy morning? Thirrin wondered. She and the soldiers drew their swords, but the figure didn’t move. After a moment she fought down her fear and rode forward.
“You stand before Princess Thirrin Freer Strong-in-the-Arm Lindenshield, heir to the throne of the Icemark. Identify yourself!”
The figure bowed deeply, then stood straight and threw back its hood. Thirrin almost laughed in relief. It was only a boy. Tall for his age of about fifteen, but a boy nonetheless. For a moment, in the uncanny power of the storm, they’d all thought another of the creatures from The-Land-of-the-Ghosts had crossed the border. But this boy was obviously human as he wiped the rain out of his eyes and smiled.
“My name’s Oskan Witch’s Son. Come with me, I can give you shelter.”
Without another word he strode across the clearing and took a path through the trees that they’d somehow missed earlier. Coming to the conclusion that the boy could do them no harm and that she and her companions needed help after the events of the morning, Thirrin urged her horse forward and the entire party followed. The path was steep and became gradually stony, making it quite difficult for the horses, but after a few minutes an outcrop of rocks reared up before them.
The way seemed to end at a sheer face of granite, but Oskan Witch’s Son beckoned them on. By this time, Thirrin was soaked to the skin and the storm was raging with even greater force, so, deciding to trust the boy, she rode toward the rocks until she saw a wide cave mouth set at an angle that hid it from the path.
The party rode into the cave and dismounted. It was clean and dry, with mounds of dry leaves and grass set against one wall as though the boy had gathered fodder for the horses of expected guests.
“You can bed down your animals here,” Oskan said. “Bring the injured man through this way.” He led Thirrin and the soldiers, who half carried their wounded comrade, along a narrow passage into a gathering gloom that steadily deepened to pitch-black.
“Wait there a moment,” Oskan said, and the soft clicking whisper of a tinderbox sounded. Suddenly light flared up from a central brazier, and fantastic shadows danced around a wide inner cave as Oskan set about kindling more lamps and braziers.
Soon the cave was brilliant with light, and Thirrin looked around her with interest. A smooth floor was overlaid with clean bracken, and several tables placed along the surprisingly regular walls were neatly piled with pots. A strong scent of herbs and spices made the place smell like the palace kitchens.
“Put him down there,” Oskan said to the soldiers, pointing to a bed set against one of the walls. They all watched in silence as the boy placed a table next to the bed and then moved around the cave gathering various objects. Once he had done this he fetched a stool, sat down, and unwound the cloak that had been used to bandage the man’s arm.
“What are you doing?” Thirrin asked suspiciously.
The boy hardly looked up from the mixture of red wine and