Hope of Earth (24 page)

I’m married. But if I weren’t—”

She was immediately contrite. “I’m sorry. I am bitter, but I know it’s no fault of yours. With my face, all I had to offer a husband was my maidenhood, and now—”

“No!” But of course she was right. So he amplified his thought. “My sister was raped, and I could not help her, any more than I could help you. I could not even avenge her against the man. It has been my shame. But her life continues.”

“Your sister? You didn’t say. Which one?”

“Flo. The eldest. She had a baby, and had to leave it in the forest. I think that hurt her more than the rape did. If I had only been grown, then, as I am now—”

“You would have thrown that man hard against a tree.”

“Yes. After that, I might have treated him unkindly.”

She had to smile. “At least you did that for me, and I thank you. He just rose up off me and flew through the air! But your sister—what of her, after that?”

“She married when I did. A man who had been injured, so could hardly walk. But when he recovered, he was a good hunter, and a good man. They made her take him, so that I could have Wona. She had a better bargain than I did.” He hadn’t meant to say that, but it came out.

“So Flo is happy now, and you are not?”

“Yes.” Then he paused, surprised to hear himself say it. So he had to try to explain it. “I was cursed to love an ugly woman. So I tried to break the curse by marrying a beautiful one. But it’s only her body that’s beautiful; her spirit is ugly. So I did not escape the curse.”

“Didn’t you say you had a daughter?”

“Yes. Wilda is three. But Wona has no interest in her. She wanted a son. So Flo takes care of Wilda and Flint, and Wilda thinks of Flo as her mother. So Flo has a full life, despite what happened to her. You should be able to have one too.”

“I wonder.”

“I have your amber necklace. Will you wear it again?” He reached over his shoulder, into his pack, and pulled it out. “It can be repaired.”

Snow began to cry, as they sat in the cave. But finally she took the necklace, tied its broken ends together, and put it on over her head. Then she settled down for sleep.

Sam was greatly relieved. Snow had accepted the notion that her life, like the necklace, might not be beyond repair.

The next day it snowed. They remained inside the cave, huddling together for warmth. Sam found himself wishing that he had not turned down her offer of sex, yet knew that it remained open, and said nothing. The meat was running out, and so had the tubers, so it seemed best to save their energy, he told himself.

The snow made their tracks visible, and that was dangerous. But it also made animal tracks visible, and that helped. Sam tracked a rabbit and caught it with a stone, and they had food again. This time they risked a small fire, trusting that the smoke would not be visible in the night.

“My father should come soon,” Snow said.

“He is making sure he doesn’t lead the raiders to you.”

“Yes. But they won’t stay in our village forever. After they finish feasting and raping and killing all the women and girls, they’ll pack up and go home. Then my father will come.”

“Yes.” They didn’t speak directly of the utter disaster that had wiped out the village. They kept the focus narrow, as if this were merely an inconvenience. It was the only way to stop the tragedy from overwhelming them.

The snowfall didn’t last; it was too early yet. But was a warning of the coming winter. The cave would not do for that; they would need to find a regular house for Snow, and Sam would have to travel back across the mountains to home before the pass became impassable.

When half a moon had passed, they got bolder. They explored more widely, looking for signs of human presence. There was a column of smoke in the direction of the village, which meant the raiders weren’t yet gone. No raiders seemed to be out ranging the land, however. “They must be getting careless,” Snow remarked. “They are sleeping off their indulgences, resting for the journey.”

“Yes. But we dare not approach too closely.”

“Yes.”

“Soon they will be gone, and my father will return. He is staying clear to be sure the raiders have no notion where we are.”

“Yes.” But that rationale was wearing thin.

Otzi staggered through the pass as night came. He was dead tired, but he hadn’t dared rest. He had seen two more raiders with dogs, and he knew that if the animals got any whiff of him in his present state, it would be the end. He would have gone to the cave long ago, if it hadn’t been for those dogs, because the animals could follow his trail to it even days later. So he protected his daughter by staying well away from her. Soon the raiders would be gone, and then he could check on Snow and Sam. Until then, he had to keep moving through the most difficult reaches of the peak pastures.

He moved out of the pass to a high gully that would shelter him from the cutting wind. It was getting cold again, and he was inadequately dressed for it. But he had handled bad times before. One, two, perhaps three more nights up here; then it would be safe to check on the village, and if that was clear, he could go to the cave to fetch the others.

He leaned his bow against the face of a rock abutment and sat down on the ground. The bow was unfinished; he had been working on it the past ten days while he avoided the Green Feather raiders. If only he had had his regular bow with him when the raiders struck! Then Snow would never have been raped; the two raiders would have fallen before they completed their ambush. He had been stupid ever to let his guard down, even when working around the village, and it had cost him and his daughter horribly. The only saving grace was the visitor Sam. Sam was a decent man who would take care of Snow, even if he wasn’t looking for a wife.

He brought out his last scrap of dried meat and slowly chewed it. He had stretched it out as long as possible, but now he had to eat or starve. Tomorrow he would see about netting a bird; that would be better. Tomorrow maybe the raiders would be gone. Tomorrow maybe he would see his daughter again. Tomorrow would be better.

He finished the meat and tossed aside the remnant of gristle. It was dark; time to sleep. He arranged his cloak and lay down on the side that didn’t hurt. The air was fiercely chill, but he could handle it. He was so fatigued that he sank immediately into a halfway pleasant daze, and then into sleep. He didn’t even notice that his ear was folded over against the ground. Tomorrow…

There was another snowfall, heavier than before. Sam knew it would be heaviest on the peaks. If Otzi was still up there, he would have a difficult time.

But after several more days, the smoke died out, and they ventured to the village. It was in ashes; the raiders had burned down every house before departing.

Snow stared. Sam knew she had insulated herself from this reality, but now she had to accept it. There was nothing to return to.

“Father,” she said plaintively. “He should be here. He would have seen the smoke.”

Sam wanted to argue, but couldn’t. She was obviously right. Otzi must have been caught by the storm. That meant he was dead.

“Oh, my father!” Snow cried. “I thought I had lost everything, but it was nothing! I should never have let him go alone.”

“We could go back to the pass and look for him,” Sam suggested weakly. “He was going to stay in the peaks until—”

“There is nothing there I want to find. I don’t want to see my father dead.” She looked at him, her eyes abruptly blazing. “Cut my hair!”

The sign of mourning. For marriage it was stylishly cut, but for mourning it was hacked off. She had not mourned for the folk of the village, insulating herself from what had happened there, but the loss of her father was too real. Sam understood, but was loath to oblige. “Maybe he crossed the mountains, leading the raiders far afield—he will return later—”

“Cut my hair.”

So, reluctantly, he brought out his dagger he had forgotten to give her to carry, and used it to cut off her beautiful snow-blond tresses. She became a wretched creature of grief, with no remaining asset above the neck.

She took the silken hanks of hair and hung them up on the edge of a stone outcropping. Then she screamed out her misery, beating her little hands against the rock until they were bruised and bleeding. She scooped up dirt and ashes and rubbed them across her face and remaining hair. Sam turned away, unable to watch or interfere. He listened as her grief wore itself out, or at least her voice did, sinking at last to faint sobbing.

As darkness closed, she recovered awareness of their situation and joined him, a miserable creature in appearance and attitude. Her copious tears had turned some of the dirt on her face to mud. “What am I to do?” she asked plaintively.

Sam had been thinking about that. It was obvious that she could not remain here. Snow was in no condition, physically or emotionally, to even make the attempt to survive alone.

“I will take you home with me,” he said. “You can do well with my family. My sisters will accept you.”

“But you are married.”

“But my brother Ned isn’t. He is very intelligent, and he doesn’t judge people by appearances. I think you would like him, and he would like you.”

“But I have no value.”

“He wouldn’t care about that. I don’t; none of us do. Because of Flo. We know it is character that defines a person, and you are a nice and competent woman.”

“Then I will go with you,” she said, as if it were a simple decision. Perhaps it was, considering the low esteem in which she now held herself. “In the morning.”

They foraged amidst the ashes for scant materials, and found some stones and bits of half-burned wood to fashion a temporary shelter of sorts. They lay down together, as brother and sister.

As he drifted to sleep, he felt her sobbing quietly again. The first fury of her grief was ebbing, but it was far from spent. There was nothing he could do about it. Her grief was real, and had to be expressed.

Tomorrow they would set off for his home. Sam hoped Ned would like Snow. Yet that thought was tempered by the realization that Sam liked her himself. It was true that her face was not beautiful, and her smashed nose and shorn hair hardly improved it. But she was a brave, honest, and feeling girl who would never treat a man the way Wona did. In fact, Snow was an ugly woman Sam realized he could love. If only he weren’t married. But he
was
married, and there his speculation ended.