The sun rose higher, and so did the temperature. As they were trying to get some relief from the heat, Benjin snapped his head to the left, squinting in the bright light. Chase saw it too.
"I saw something moving in those trees."
"I did too," Benjin said, "but I didn't get a good look." They all watched the trees for a long while, but nothing moved; if someone lurked there, he remained hidden.
"Probably just a deer," Chase said.
Anxieties ran high, and they often looked over their shoulders for signs of pursuit. The tension and uncertainty gnawed at Catrin like an itch she could not scratch. Distant noises and glimpses of movement were the only indications of pursuit, but each occurrence renewed their apprehension. Catrin tried to convince herself it was her vivid imagination that each distorted echo was an approaching battle cry and that within every shadow lurked men intent on killing them. Though she had vowed to show the Zjhon no fear, she hadn't promised not to feel any.
As the valley widened into a broad plain, trees became more numerous and thickets more dense, and they had to use game trails or clear paths of their own. The shade provided respite from the glaring sun, but the underbrush slowed their journey. On a steep slope covered with thorny bushes, brambles, and vines, they found a patch of berry bushes, but the fruit lay beyond a thick screen of the plants. Working with great care, they cleared a narrow pathway to the berries. Benjin knew which ones had poisonous berries and others whose fruit was edible. Soon they had ample raspberries, blackberries, and even huckles. In a brief moment of levity, they filled themselves with the fruit.
Once beyond the wall of thorns, the land became more hospitable; underbrush gave way to tall grasses, and trees were sparse. Ahead lay marshy lowland, and already dark clouds of gnats buzzed around them. Emerald biting-flies darted around their heads, and walnut-sized mosquitoes attacked in legions.
"When I last passed this way, a strip of dry land bordered this marsh on either side. Now it appears we'll have to wade through it," Benjin said, scowling with squinting eyes over the saturated lowland, which now stretched across the entire valley. Narrow islands appeared throughout the marsh, creating a disjointed maze of land almost entirely immersed in stagnant water, and the search for a dry path became paramount.
As they moved deeper into the marsh, the stretches of water separating the islands became longer and deeper. Osbourne was the first to notice the leeches, which had attached themselves to his legs. He yanked his pant legs up and pulled the leeches off, throwing them. The rest discovered the same effect, and Benjin suggested they tuck their pants into their boots.
Slogging through the mucky quagmire was difficult and unpleasant, and Catrin was relieved when the marsh began to give way to some patches of high ground. Then a nearby scream and a series of splashes broke the silence.
"I saw something flailing around behind those weeds, but I'm not sure what it was," Chase said. "Shouldn't we go back to check?"
"I think we should take a look," said Benjin. "That sounded like a man shouting, and it sounded like he was hurt. If someone is following us, I want to know for certain. Let's go, Chase."
When they returned, Benjin said grimly, "A soldier was tracking us. We don't know if he was alone, but he'll follow us no more; he was bitten by a poisonous snake, and he took his own life before we arrived. We didn't go very close, since the snake was coiled in our path, but I could tell the man was no ordinary foot soldier. He was a member of an elite unit; at least that's what I gather from his attire. Unlike the other soldiers, he was equipped to move quickly; his armor was light and his weapons advanced. We'll have to remain more alert. I suspect more soldiers are tracking us."
"Let's move on, then," Catrin said. "I'd like to put as much ground between us and this marsh as possible. I don't want to camp anywhere near here."
By the light of one of the precious few candles that remained, Wendel Volker packed his gear. Elsa's sword lay across the blanket-covered crates he'd been using as a bed. He took no food, and in no way, other than burning the candle, depleted the provisions that would be needed by all those who remained in the cold caves. A twinge of guilt made Wendel pause and reconsider; these people needed him, or at least so they thought. An equally painful guilt hovered over him for abandoning Catrin, and his duty as a father had finally won out over his duty to his people. Those he had gathered in the cold caves were now as safe as they were going to be; there was nothing more he could do to ensure their well-being. In a moment of self-justification, he asserted that by leaving, he would consume less of the rations; therefore, he was doing everyone who remained a favor.
Like all others, that moment passed, and he was left to deal with guilt over leaving Jensen behind. He and his brother simply saw things differently. Jensen had as much anxiety over Chase's fate as Wendel did over Catrin's, but he steadfastly refused to go after them, and he had done everything within his power to persuade Wendel to do the same. When he was honest with himself, Wendel realized that Jensen was the only reason he had stayed as long as he had. With a deep breath, he firmed his resolve and shouldered his pack. The journey ahead would be difficult and fraught with danger, but the hardest part was behind him; as he stepped out of the chamber that had been his temporary home, the journey was begun. He would find Catrin.
His candle was not overly bright, but he shielded it as best he could while allowing enough light to guide his way. To those who were immersed in darkness, even the dimmest light can shine like a beacon, and Wendel had no desire to alert anyone of his departure. Fortunately, most avoided the deepest tunnels, where the air was the coldest and the feeling of the land pressing down the greatest. Wendel had grown accustomed to the feeling long ago, and he walked without fear, though not without anxiety. He should have left a note for Jensen, something to explain his motives and reasoning, but he could not turn back now, and there was no time to waste. Jensen would wake soon, and another day would be lost, and Catrin would be another day farther from him. In the back of his mind, a voice warned that she was already too far away, that he would never reach her in time. Ignoring that voice, Wendel moved as quickly and quietly as he could.
Deep within the network of tunnels and caves, the scent of fresh air drifted. Only in a few places did shafts penetrate the rock and allow air and, in some cases, light into the caves, but Wendel now stood below one of these shafts. He had never found one of the shafts from above, mostly due to the fact that this part of the cold caves lay directly below a series of steep and formidable peaks. Not knowing what he would face when he emerged gave him pause, and he took a moment to plan this critical part of his escape.
First he tied a length of rope around his waist and secured the other end to his pack. The knife on his belt was all that he would carry, and all that he could use to defend himself should the outlet of the shaft be guarded. Though he thought it unlikely, Wendel made himself consider the possibility. Chastising himself for allowing fear to stall him, he moved to the crates of cheese that were stacked nearby, and he placed them on top of one another beneath the air shaft, giving himself just enough of a boost to gain his first handhold. Once inside the shaft, the climbing would be easier since he could use both sides of the shaft to support himself. The fear of getting stuck in a section where the shaft was too narrow nearly made him abandon this course, but his decision was made.