Well, she would just go and wake Elder Sister Willow, and then she would speak ... In this determined mood, she walked toward her maid. The smell of charring intensified.
When Silver Snow looked down, she saw that a long swathe of Willow’s luxuriant, reddish hair was burned away, as if someone had cast a flaming torch at her. Now the girl slept on her side, curled in protectively about herself, her too-short leg drawn up as that of a stork, standing in the water.
“Willow?” Silver Snow whispered. “Willow!” She knelt and shook the maid, who came awake with one blink of her greenish eyes. They filled with the morning light, then kindled into such humor and energy that Silver Snow rocked back upon her heels.
“What happened, child?” said Silver Snow, all her anger gone. She brushed at Willow’s long hair. Reddish hair might be considered a grave blemish in Ch’in, but there was no denying that the lustrous, thick mane that glinted under Silver Snow’s searching fingers had a unique beauty, much like a fine pelt. To see it marred was a sadness that Silver Snow had not expected.
To her astonishment, Willow laughed. “Ah, such running about as I had! Air and earth are stirring, Elder Sister, and we danced all night, the brothers in fur and I. A foolish ewe ran, thinking that we sought her lamb. Soon the entire flock was in a panic, and men came on horseback. Thus, we fled, they to the grasslands, I into the camp, where she ”—a saucy lift of Willow’s chin toward Strong Tongue’s domain told Silver Snow whom she meant— “sat up and muttered over old can-trfps. I nudged at her tent flap with my muzzle, hoping to spy out some matter of use.
“She is quick, Elder Sister, for all that she has the bulk of a prize ram. Before I could vanish into the shadows, she rose, snapped her fingers, and flung—ho, fire of some sort!—at me, and I yelped and ran off. ”
“You must trim your hair, lest she see it burnt and know,” warned Silver Snow.
As Willow bent to the task, Silver Snow turned to make up the fire afresh.
“I should do that, Elder Sister,” said the maid. “It is not fitting that you do my work.”
“Can I dance with the wind and gather news for myself?” asked Silver Snow. Then, as Willow shook her head, “Well then? What did you learn in the tent of Strong Tongue?” “That she is well pleased with your . . . the prince’s disgrace,” said Willow. “Yet not as pleased as she might be; because her own son’s warlike ways take him from home.
Indirectly, we have done the old man a favor by keeping Strong Tongue’s son from his side. How much would you wager ...”
Silver Snow shook her head. “Not a single cash,” she said.
Vughturoi might well be in disgrace for his unwillingness to fight when his father’s treaty forbade; but he was here, and Tadiqan was not. As far as Silver Snow was concerned, that was all to the good. If Tadiqan were to inherit, he must be the first of Khujanga’s sons to view his father’s body. To do so, he must first return to the clan. Thus, if Strong Tongue had any plans for speeding the old shan-yu 's departure to the eternal grasslands, she would not, for the sake of her own power as well as that of her son, put them into action as long as Tadiqan rode among the Fu Yu. Let but Tadiqan return, however, and Vughturoi depart ... in that case, Silver Snow must look to herself and to the husband who was her only protection.
Outside her yurt rose commotion unlike anything she had yet heard in the Hsiung-nu’s camp. She finished dressing, and stepped outside. Overhead, the sky had gone from the pallor of winter and the gray of the recent storms to the blue of lapis or turquoise. The wind that swept down across it smelled wild and sweet, somehow newly scoured and fresh. It tugged at Silver Snow’s robes as it did at the manes of the horses that men rode up and down the aisles and ranks of the great camp as they cried for more and more haste. Even the moans and grunts of the camels picketed on the camp’s edge sounded less glum than usual.
Children scampered, perilously close to the horses’ hooves, and women shouted cheerfully. Already one of the yurts on the perimeter vanished into a flurry of heavy cloths and a frame that was rapidly stored in a nearby cart. Bronze Mirror and Sable ran up, laughing and smiling.
“It is time to break camp, lady!” Sable said. “We shall help you and your maid to pack. Will you ride or go in your chariot?”
Silver Snow blinked once again. So, after a winter here, it was finally time to head for the spring and summer pastures.
“Ah,” cried Bronze Mirror, “after a winter spent in camp, the very yurts seem like walled cities. To ride free again, following the herds—that is how Hsiung-nu should live!”
Her exultation swept Silver Snow up, and she hastened back inside to dress for riding and to pack her things.
Willow had laid the scent bag out on the folds of her sleeping furs. Without a word, Silver Snow replaced it in the black chest and gently shut the lid.
Shortly afterward, her yurt came down. She bent toward the hearthfire.
“Leave it, lady,” came a voice from above her.
She turned and saw Prince Vughturoi, mounted on his favorite horse. Steady and sturdy, it tossed its heavy mane in its eagerness to be off. He whistled shrilly, and one of his warriors led up Silver Snow’s own white horse.
“They make the prince the shepherd of the little queen,” Silver Snow heard an older man say in an undertone, and winced at the guttural laughter that followed it.
“Well, if he has no stomach for a fight, best he herd the flocks. Or one ewe lamb.”
She marked which men spoke, noting that they were of the party of elder warriors who jeered at close ties with Ch’in, but who would never gainsay the shan-yu. These too must be considered enemies, or perhaps simply unfriends.
She gestured at the fire, fearful that chance sparks might spread a wall of flame across the grasslands.
“The ground is yet too damp for us to worry that a fire might spread beyond control. We leave the hearthfires burning, lady,” Prince Vughturoi told her. With his usual control, he ignored the words that had been spoken loudly enough to reach his ears. “It is a custom of the Hsiung-nu. When we break camp, we leave the hearthfires burning as a sign that, come next winter, we shall return. Because it is spring, and the ground is wet—well, wet for this land—we need not fear that the fires will spread, as they would if we dared this in high summer. When we ride out, we shall turn around at the highest point during the day’s travel. If the fires are still burning, it means good fortune.”
Silver Snow mounted, then turned to survey what had been a thriving, crowded camp and what now was merely a collection of rutted ground, scattered fire, and baggage, rapidly stowed on restive animals. The shan-yu emerged from his tent, last of all of them to be taken down, climbed laboriously ahorse, and smiled to see the youngest of his wives awaiting the order to ride forth. Wagon after wagon rumbled by, Strong Tongue very much in the vanguard, driving a wagon that Silver Snow would have thought required the services of at least five drovers. She glared to see Silver Snow mounted and unafraid; in turn, Silver Snow smiled.
After a season of confinement, it would be good to travel again, she thought, and knew not whether that was Hsiung-nu thinking or the desire of her own heart. The wind whipped around her, bringing tears to her eyes. She bent her body, lessening her resistance to the wind, hearing in its howl a voice luring her onward, promising her wonders, change, excitement, and, above all, the freedom of the Hsiung-nu.
As if the longing to escape from the confinement of the winter camp had abruptly built up past their power to control, the Hsiung-nu warriors shrieked as the shan-yu gave the signal to his horsemen. Horses raced past swaying, sullen camels and the wagons with their lumbering draft animals and out into the plains that were their true home.