had fallen, it had resumed its melancholy song. Boro growled, but Sólmundr refused to let the big dog be drawn out into the rocks. He did not trust that the Loup-Garou really was alone.
‘Iseult,’ persisted Christopher, ‘look at me. Lass, look at me!’
She looked at him, her face set.
‘Iseult,’ he said gently, ‘we can’t let him down. What will he say if those papers don’t get through? What’ll he think if we continue to just sit here on our arses and let precious time dribble through our fists? At least if I go ahead there’s a chance of setting things straight. At the very least, it might make their da think twice about shooting off arrows when Alberon rides into sight.’
Christopher waited for her reply, his face earnest in the unsteady light. He was so utterly convinced that he could make it past the gate guards and into the King’s presence that Wynter wanted to kiss him. Razi’s chest rose and fell beneath her hand, their friend as still and as silent as the day before.
‘If Razi has not woken by tomorrow,’ she said, ‘we will strap him to his horse and finish the journey together. None of us goes on without him.’
Sólmundr glanced up at her, but said nothing. He didn’t have to point out how risky that journey might be for Razi; they all knew it.
‘It’s the only way,’ she said. ‘Regardless of what the people may think of him, Razi is still his Royal Highness the Prince, heir to the Southland throne. In his company, no one will prevent our access to the King. Without him, what are we? Nothing but a Northern savage, a gypsy thief and a disgraced murderess, carrying between them the incendiary papers of a rebel prince already declared mortuus in vita. Forgive me, but if any of us attempted entering the castle without Razi by our side, we would be dead before we set foot on the moat bridge. Even if Razi . . .’ She paused, the words too hard to articulate. Then she forced herself to go on. ‘Even should he die, we shall still have to bring him with us. Without him we have no hope. With him, there is at least the slimmest of chances that our story will be heard.’
She could not look into their faces, though she could imagine Christopher’s expression well enough.
‘That’s what you want to do?’ he said. ‘You want to strap Razi to his horse like a bundle of luggage, and offer him up to his da as if he were goods being exchanged for favour?’
‘Yes.’
‘You want to trek him across these mountains, regardless of what it does to his health?’
‘Yes, Christopher.’
There was a long, bitter silence, and she finally glanced up. ‘Please don’t look at me like that,’ she said softly. ‘Please, Christopher. Don’t.’ He shook his head and tightened his jaw, and she set her face against his anger. ‘Tell me something,’ she said, her voice harder than she would ever have wished it to be. ‘If the choice were given to Razi himself, what would he do?’ She looked from Christopher to Sólmundr, challenging them to tell her anything but the truth. They dropped their eyes and she nodded. ‘We leave tomorrow,’ she said, ‘all of us. So get some sleep, it is my turn to watch him.’
DAY SEVEN: BOTH SIDES
OF THE COIN
‘COME HERE and eat.’
Wynter gave the pack mule’s straps one last tug and followed Sólmundr to the fire. Christopher handed them a bowl of porridge each and they ate in silence. On the path above them, buzzards squawked and scuffled, their huge wings rustling as they fought over the dead. More circled in the sky overhead, scanning for predators before spiralling down to join the grisly meal. Sólmundr had dragged the nearest Loup-Garou corpse up into the rocks, flinging its head after it like a shot-put. There, too, buzzards hopped and quarrelled as they ate their fill. Wynter tried not to listen; she would be happy to leave those sounds behind.
‘I’m done.’ Christopher threw his bowl to the ground. ‘You clean that.’ He got to his feet, snagged a waterskin and headed for Razi, who still lay within the shelter of the rocks. ‘I’ll see if I can get him to drink. Call me when we’re ready to go.’
Wynter and Sólmundr exchanged a glance and went on with their breakfast. It was the most their friend had said all morning.
‘Oh!’ cried Christopher. They both turned to see him