on,’ Dennis gasped, teeth chattering.
The river finally shallowed out, and the steam rose from their bodies as they floundered up to the reed-covered bank. Stumbling, they gained the far shore. Dennis untied the rope from his waist and, pulling hard, managed to secure it to a stunted tree on the river bank.
Looking back, Tinuva saw dozens of men standing along the river, all of them naked. In spite of his pain he had to chuckle at the sight.
Dennis, himself still naked, threw his pack down and tore it open, reaching into his haversack for flint, steel and tinder. Tinuva tore up an armful of reeds and piled them high, busting open the dry, fluffy seedpods. Dennis quickly had a smouldering wisp of flame which he blew to life as Tinuva carefully fed in the fluff from the seedpods, then began to break up the hollow reeds, laying them on top of the tiny wisp of flame. Dennis ran to the nearest pine tree, broke off several dead branches and brought them back and soon the fire sparked to life. Finally, with the fire alight, they struggled clumsily to get their clothes back on.
Tinuva looked back to the river. The first men, all of them from Dennis’s command were nearly across, spluttering and cursing, led by Sergeant Barry.
‘Gregory just came in with the rearguard,’ Barry blurted out. ‘They’re on to our trail.’
‘Damn. How much time do we have?’ Dennis gasped, teeth still chattering.
‘An hour at most, half an hour more likely.’
‘What’s going on with those damn Tsurani?’ Dennis snapped while wrestling with his boots.
Through chattering teeth, Sergeant Barry said, ‘They’re arguing back and forth. That damn squinty-looking one – their second-in-command – he’s apparently against crossing. Honestly, I think the little bastards are afraid and won’t admit it.’
‘Fine, let them stay.’
‘If too many of our men cross first,’ Tinuva interjected, ‘it might cause a problem.’
‘And that is?’
‘We get all our men across, they might fear to start over, figuring we might ambush them when they’re in the middle of the river. Or, when we only have a few left over there, they turn on them.’
‘Damn it all,’ Dennis sighed. He reached out to help pull one of his men up the embankment.
‘Get everyone coming in to start feeding the fire. Don’t worry about the smoke, getting warm is more important,’ Tinuva offered. ‘Remember, we saw that stag and the does. They ran back into the woods. A good hunter might take one of them. The men need warm food as well.’
‘Where are you going?’ Dennis asked.
‘Back.’
‘What?’
‘I think they might trust me.’
‘What the hell for?’ Dennis asked. ‘If we shake them loose here, fine with me.’
‘They might kill the last of our men still over there, and Gregory is one of them.’
‘You’re a fool to try and cross again,’ Dennis replied, thinking of the icy river.
Tinuva did not bother to reply. Pulling off his cloak, the only article of clothing he had managed to put back on, he plunged back into the swollen river, hanging on to the rope, pulling himself hand over hand, passing more of Dennis’s men holding onto the rope on the downstream side. Twice, helping hands kept him up as he felt the strength in his muscles sucked out by the frigid water. At last he gained the far side of the river, glad for the helping hand extended by Gregory. He could barely walk, his legs completely numb.
‘Why in the name of the gods did you come back?’ Gregory asked.
‘Someone had to. What is going on over here?’ Tinuva whispered, his breath forming a white cloud in the air.
Gregory pulled off his own cloak and wrapped it around Tinuva’s shoulders. ‘There are mounted riders behind us. Men.’
‘The moredhel?’
‘Not yet. I guess they’re still taking care of things at the pass.’
Tinuva said nothing.
‘Something is brewing with the Tsurani,’ Gregory whispered. ‘We don’t have time for this.’
Tinuva nodded, glad for the cloak Gregory wrapped around him.
As he approached the knot of Tsurani, he could sense the tension. Some had stripped down, but others were obviously hesitant. Asayaga drew back from his men.
‘What is the problem?’ Tinuva whispered.
Asayaga hesitated, head lowered, obviously ashamed.
‘It’s the fact that most of your men can’t swim, isn’t it?’
Asayaga nodded. ‘My world. Those who live on the coast learn. The rest …’ His voice trailed off for a moment. ‘I have the power of command, but many think it suicide and demand the right to turn and fight.’
‘You know there will be a fight between us if this continues.’ Tinuva nodded to the thirty or so men of Dennis’s command still to cross. They were eyeing the Tsurani with suspicion and several were whispering.
‘Perhaps we should settle our differences now,’ Asayaga said.
‘And Gregory has undoubtedly told you that the moredhel’s human renegades are closing in.’
‘Are they?’
‘I have no reason to lie to you. If anything I should be telling you that no one is coming and leave you here,’ said Gregory in a calm, even tone.
‘Then why tell me the truth?’
‘Because for any of us to survive we still must travel together for now,’ said the elf. ‘We need you in order to live as much as you need us.’ He locked gaze with Asayaga and calmly added, ‘You know this is true.’
Asayaga reluctantly grunted his agreement.
Tinuva said, ‘For the moment no more of Hartraft’s troops will cross. Send half of yours over now. Then the rest can cross, alternating: one of yours, then one of Hartraft’s – that way we can keep the forces balanced on both sides of the river. But we don’t have any more time to waste.’
Asayaga, hands planted on his hips, looked up into Tinuva’s eyes.
‘I have never seen one of your race so close before,’ Asayaga said. ‘Is it true you are immortal?’
Gregory started to object to the digression, but Tinuva sensed something important was behind it. He gestured slightly with his hand and his old friend fell silent. The elf said, ‘All of us are immortal. Our spirits never perish, no matter the length of our span in the flesh in this world. Mine is just longer a span than yours. We both live on in the next world, though our afterworld is different from
