Alone …

across the withered sage

where no birds sing.

ICE FLOWER

Jantallian

….

1

Wandering

….

"Slim! Slim! Answer me, will y'!" Jess Harper's unmistakable holler rang through the hanging veils of mist that wrapped the ice-sheathed pillars of the forest. There was utter silence.

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Alamo moved silently, gracefully, through the trees, his hooves making no sound on the soft leaves of the forest floor, despite the frost that rimed them. Slim felt as if he had gone deaf. The stillness was so deep, the silence so thick. Not a creature stirred, not a bird sang. It was as if every living thing was cowering, hiding from the bite of this bitter cold. Between the bare branches the mist draped a shimmering silver curtain, drifting with a motion of its own, for there was no wind. He shivered and pulled up the collar of his thick sheep-skin jacket. His feet seemed to be freezing in his boots and he longed to bang his gloved hands together to restore the circulation, but something stopped him breaking the surrounding hush with any noise.

Mentally, he was cursing Jess. It was all his fault they were riding out on this ridiculous quest to find a man who could more than take care of himself in the wilds. All because Jess couldn't resist the appeal of a pretty woman, even if she was married to someone else. They'd only dropped in to the Rhodes homestead on the way back from Casper to be neighbourly – and, it had to be said, because another thing Jess couldn't resist was Ann's cooking! But instead of a quiet meal and a rest, they'd found a distraught woman, nearly going out of her mind with worry because her feckless husband had disappeared again. It seemed entirely likely to Slim that Stede Rhodes had reverted to his old habits now, on the edge of winter, when farm-work was at a minimum and he could make a good living by his previous trade of trapping. But Ann's tearful and almost panic-stricken insistence that Stede was a reformed character had more influence on Jess than common-sense did. Slim knew anyway that, where friends were concerned, common-sense was never going to outweigh loyalty in Jess. It was a trait he admired in his partner just as much as it exasperated him.

He gave a sigh and his breath billowed out in a white cloud. It hung before his face like a shroud, joining the freezing vapour shifting and swaying in the cold air. A sudden chill ran up Slim's spine and he shuddered involuntarily. He heard again Ann's horrified whisper: "Men disappear. Each year, about this time. One, two, maybe more. Good men who are never seen again!" And much as he wanted to snap "Hysterical nonsense!", he could not. Ann Rhodes did not scare easily and there was no mistaking the fear written in her face. Maybe he couldn't blame Jess quite so much. Whatever had happened, Ann believed Stede needed rescuing. But how on earth were they going to find him in this blind, silent, icy wilderness?

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"Slim! Slim!" Jess felt as if ice was clogging his vocal chords and strong chill fingers tightening about his throat. "Where are y'? Just shout an' give me a lead!" There was absolutely no answer.

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Alamo paced soundlessly onward. The mist was so thick at ground level that he seemed to be floating. The skeins of vapour rose from it with a life of their own, furling and undulating. It was hard to see even a few paces ahead. Despite the lack of any sunlight, the rime-covered trees were shining with a light of their own. They were like a mirror-maze, each one indistinguishable from the next, confusing sight and creating an uneasy feeling that they were actually moving, closing in …

Slim cursed again. He cursed under his breath because, even when he was alone, he didn't hold with swearing aloud, no matter how much the situation warranted it.

But if this situation went on much longer, he was going to get lost! And if there was one thing Slim prided himself on – justifiably – it was his knowledge of the territory and his sense of direction. Now, not only did he not know where he was, he had no idea where Jess was either. How had they become separated? One moment they had been following what they hoped was Stede's trail, with Jess riding in front and hanging low over Smoke's shoulder in order to try to track the footprints shrouded beneath the ground mist. The next, he had vanished as if he and his grey mustang had simply merged into the fog or literally been swallowed by it.

Slim shook his head irritably: this was the stuff of fairy tales by the fireside! But he couldn't rid himself of the sound of Ann's words: 'Men disappear!' And Jess had done just that. Real fear clenched its grip on Slim's heart. If something had happened to Jess …

But no good was going to come of speculating and scaring himself silly just because of some thick mist. Jess was perfectly capable of looking after himself and, after years on the drift, few people could equal his survival skills. Besides, Slim told himself firmly, panicking was not going to help.

He dragged his thoughts back to practical consideration of where they had been going. If Jess had any sense at all – and there had been numerous occasions on which Slim had had good reasons to question this! – he would be heading for the one obvious landmark Ann had been able to identify for them. Stede had gone up to the mountain lake to try to catch some wild duck for supper. It was not far. And the obvious course was to ride up hill and hope that Jess was doing the same. He turned Alamo confidently and urged him upwards, still keeping a sharp ear open for any sounds which might indicate they were both riding in the same direction.

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"Listen" Jess whispered sternly to his horse. The grey tossed his head and then rubbed it affectionately against his rider, nearly sending him staggering. Jess was one of the few humans Smoke tolerated, but his partiality could be something of a liability. "Listen!" Jess told him again, pulling the soft, sharp ears with a gentle hand. In other circumstances, he would have been riding Traveller and Trav would have no difficulty or hesitation in locating Alamo. But Smoke was still learning the level of communication and co-operation which Jess expected and you can't teach a horse anything without taking him out into the Big Open. "Listen!" Jess stilled himself totally as he followed his own instruction. The grey huffed out a cloud of breath and became still too. His ears pricked and his head went up. But listen as they might, there was nothing to hear.

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Alamo continued to move smoothly, silently, up the mountainside. It was like riding in a dream. The veils of mist, parting and closing again, the smooth, glittering trunks of the trees, the ceiling of luminous fog just above them, the complete absence of sound, were all mesmerising. They were drifting, floating rootless in a colourless world of smooth, sinuous shapes, sliding light and sudden patches of opaque shadow.

Slim felt he was riding farther and farther away from all that was familiar and human. This land was ancient and powerful in its own right. It had been alive long before human beings came to walk it and it would endure when they were long gone. And the people who belonged here, he knew, venerated the land and treated every part of the earth with reverence and respect. So the land nurtured and empowered them. At times like this, Slim had a vivid sense of this mighty harmony and wished there was some other way to live in this good country, the best country there was. To live without fences and boundaries, without plundering the landscape, without leaving a mark on the earth.

He felt equally vividly what made Jess so restless at times. How he too felt hemmed in and tied down by roots and responsibilities. How the Open called to him. How the need to be alone and to survive alone did not mean you were lonely. And balancing this, of course, he knew too the deep affection Jess had for the place which was now his home, a love expressed quite rarely but so powerfully that it always stunned Slim. And where was Jess now, which way was this strange day pulling him?

The slope upward seemed never-ending. He had no idea whether he was in front or behind the other horse and rider. He could not see any tracks nor hear any hoof-beats nor the creak of the leather harness nor the click of a shoe against stone. Not that he expected to hear anything from Jess. If he chose to, he could move as silently and stealthily as a hunting cougar. The thought made Slim grin a little, despite his worry. Jess's resemblance to a wild cat extended to his habitual snarling response most mornings at being made to get up and work. Both cat and man tended to respond briskly to a bucket of cold water! All the same, Slim did not expect the degree of smooth and silent progress from Smoke which Jess could automatically command from Traveller. He was unwillingly impressed, since he had considerable doubts about Jess's decision to train the unpredictable grey as his second string, not to mention the wisdom of riding him on their recent trading trip to Casper.

Which brought him right back to the question of where was Jess? It was perfectly possible that a horse still learning its trade could have spooked and fallen or simply refused to go any further in these conditions. He didn't think there was any chance of Smoke deliberately dislodging his rider – he'd see Jess stick on half-broken mustangs far too often to believe that – but accidents did happen. Perhaps he was lying injured somewhere? Unconscious and debilitated by the cold? He remembered how Jess had suffered during his first winter in Wyoming. Suppose he was unable to call for help or let Slim know where he was?

Now Slim was wondering why on earth he was bothering to try to find Stede Rhodes when someone he cared far more about might be desperately needing his help. He drew Alamo to a halt and sat, struggling with his feelings and his priorities, for several minutes. The cold seemed to be literally encasing horse and rider in bonds of frost and their breath came slower and more laboured as slivers of ice pierced their lungs.

It was then that he heard the sound.

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There was no sound. Jess and Smoke listened intently for some minutes before Jess decided the only thing he was going to achieve by standing still was frostbite. He couldn't contact Slim by shouting and he couldn't see his trail and he couldn't hear a sound or sense a movement anywhere in the forest. If something had happened, there was no indication of what it was and jumping to conclusions was not going to help. Anyway Slim knew the territory even better than he did and he was perfectly capable to taking care of himself. Deviating from their intended search in order to find him would probably lead Jess into disaster himself. Disaster! Why was he so certain that some uncanny kind of danger lurked in the icy forest? Beyond the forest, the upland flattened out around the little lake. The lake was the obvious place to rendezvous and the quicker he got there, the better. Jess shook his head and cleared his mind. He hopped back into the saddle and urged Smoke briskly uphill. The mist closed without a sound behind them.

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