Free A Princess of the Chameln by Cherry Wilder Page A

bits.”
    â€œDon’t give her any more,” said Sabeth. “She has turned her trick for today.”
    Aidris did not like this rudeness from Sabeth. She had intended to give the old woman money, but she had none in her pocket and dared not open the sealed pouch. She took a silver ring, Nazran’s gift, from the little finger of her left hand.
    â€œMy thanks . . .” she said. “What is your name good mother? Do you live in Aldero?”
    The old woman took the ring, slipped it onto the tip of a bony finger. She smiled, and Aidris saw that her teeth were perfect still.
    â€œI am Yekla,” she said. “I am the horse doctor.”
    â€œYou sent the troopers away to Grafells.”
    â€œThey may not come safe home,” said the old woman softly.
    Aidris remembered the curse that had sounded like a blessing: a coffin of pine and a wreath of rowan.
    â€œGive us a true blessing,” she said, “and tell us which way to go.”
    â€œYour guide on the brown mare will know that,” said Yekla. “The Carach trees will bless you when you come into Athron.”
    She strode off down the hill towards Aldero, followed by her lean hound, and turned back to cry out loudly, “A virgin should not ride with a whore!”
    Aidris turned to Sabeth and saw her sitting very erect in the saddle, lips pressed together, like Sharn Am Zor when he tried to hold back tears. She hated the old woman’s cruelty and felt ashamed of her own ignorance. She saw with pity that the cruel words were true. Sabeth was a fancy woman, one of the singing-girls of Balufir; anyone else would have seen it at once. She drew Telavel in close and bending over kissed Sabeth’s pale, perfumed cheek.
    â€œThe old woman is mad!” she said. “She is teasing us.”
    Sabeth gave a wan smile. Ric Loeke was coming up the track from the village riding the brown mare. When he heard the story of the troopers, he became angry, his face dark as a thundercloud. Aidris caught a whiff of spirits on his breath, from the tavern at Aldero.
    â€œThe old witch did us a good turn,” he said, “but now we must ride another way, by the Wulfental.”
    â€œIs it hard riding?” asked Sabeth. “Will it break my little bones?”
    â€œWe must go through some dark places to reach this pass,” he said.
    He took back the gold pouch but kept to Imba, the brown mare. He turned off on to a narrow track, and they followed; he led them on, unspeaking, deeper and deeper into the forest.
    III
    They were among the foothills of the mountains. The trees were dense and strange; a black beech forest clothed the low hills. The valleys were dark as night, and the trails they followed through the shaggy pines were like dank tunnels. They came one nightfall up through the beech forest to an open place on the crown of a hill. An old standing stone rose up in the midst of a circle of hard, bleached grass, flattened by wind and snow. Squat trees crouched at the edge of the circle; the remains of a fire and some kind of shelter stood at the foot of the dolmen. Loeke cursed and unexpectedly thumbed his forehead in an old sign to ward off evil.
    â€œThe place has become a witch-hold,” he said. “We must go on further.”
    Sabeth moaned for sheer weariness and was echoed by a faint bird cry. A small hawk flew up across the clearing and soared away into the wind.
    â€œIt is a bleak place,” said Aidris, “but what are the signs . . .?”
    â€œThe stone is marked,” said Loeke.
    She saw black marks on the side of the stone nearest them that might be runes.
    â€œPlease,” she said. “Let me read those runes and speak a prayer by the stone. We can pitch our camp here on the edge of the trees. We are too tired to go further.”
    Ric Loeke stared at her a moment, considering, then nodded. Telavel was restless; she did not care for the place. Aidris dismounted, then dug into