The Rulers came after the rear guard, but less enthusiastically than they’d attacked at first. A wounded war mammoth and a wizard dreadfully disabled if not dead gave them pause. They were men like any others, no matter how they tried to disguise it with ferocity. Getting reminded of that reassured Hamnet . . . a little.
“They’re going to let us get away.” One of the Raumsdalians sounded even more relieved—and even more surprised—than Hamnet was.
Somewhere ahead of him, the main force would be heading . . . where? Up onto the Bizogot plains? Where else were they likely to go? And not nearly far enough behind him, the Rulers were getting ready to pursue them. Somehow or other, his friends would have to take along the still-unconscious Marcovefa.
That brought something else to the top of Hamnet Thyssen’s mind. “Ask you a question?” he said to Liv.
“It’s hard to ask anything else,” she replied, as if she were Ulric Skakki. Then she nodded. “Go ahead.”
He gave her Trasamund’s suggestion, finishing, “Has that got any chance of working, or is it as disgusting as it sounds to me?”
He expected it would disgust her even more, not least because she was a woman. To be taken unawares, so to speak . . . But she gave it her usual careful consideration. At last, she said, “Well, I don’t see how it could hurt. What’s the worst thing that could happen? You get her with child. You might do that when she’s awake, too.”
“But—But—” Hamnet had to work to make himself quit sputtering. “But do you think it would do any good?”
“I don’t know. It might connect her to this world again—or, of course, it might not,” Liv answered. “Maybe it’s worth a try. Who can say? If she knew why you were doing it, I think she’d forgive you, if that makes you feel any better.” It didn’t, or not much. Hamnet rode on, wishing he’d kept his mouth shut.
XVIII
THE BIZOGOT STEPPE. Again. Hamnet Thyssen could imagine no gloomier words, no gloomier setting. But his being here had nothing to do with his imagination. For better or worse—as things seemed, mostly for worse—here he was in truth.
He could see a long way. Except for the south, where the woods that marked Raumsdalia’s frontier still lingered on the horizon, he might have been able to see forever. He knew he couldn’t, but the illusion was very strong.
It felt all the stronger because he’d come out from among the trees so recently. They didn’t simply cut down how far you could see. They also made the eye focus more clearly than it had to here on the plain.
Hamnet didn’t see any war mammoths coming after the battered remnant of the force that still resisted the Rulers. He didn’t see any of the invaders on their riding deer. He didn’t miss them, either. If he never saw them again, he wouldn’t have shed a tear.
When he said as much to Ulric Skakki, the adventurer shrugged an elaborate shrug. “Well, neither would I,” Ulric said. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t expect to see them before long.”
“I know.” Hamnet bared his teeth in something that wished it were a smile. “They’ll be along sooner than we wish they would. I never thought the rear guard would be able to do as much to them as we did.”
“Good for you, by God,” Ulric said.
“Good for Liv,” Count Hamnet said. “She deserves the credit. If not for her, that snow dev il would have slaughtered the lot of us—starting with me.” He shuddered at the memory. Had those frozen arms closed on him . . . He didn’t know what would have happened. The only thing he knew was, it would have been about as bad as anything could be.
Ulric raised an amused eyebrow. “If you listen to her tell it, Your Grace, you’re the hero.”
“Me?” Hamnet snorted. “That’s ridiculous! All I did was stay alive, and I didn’t think I’d manage that.”
“Ridiculous, eh?” Ulric’s eyebrow climbed higher yet; Hamnet hadn’t thought it could. “Audun Gilli doesn’t think so. The way he’s moping around, he thinks Liv’s going back to you any minute now.”
“He may think so. I don’t,” Hamnet said.
“Yes. I know.” Ulric Skakki. “But then, you’ve always been blind to what women are really thinking, haven’t you?”
Hamnet opened his mouth to deny that indignantly. Then he closed it without saying anything. When he opened it again after some thought, what came out was, “I wouldn’t be surprised.”
“No, no. You’re always surprised—that’s what I’m trying to tell you,” Ulric said. Count Hamnet made as if to hit him. Laughing, Ulric ducked.
“You know what I meant. You’re being difficult on purpose,” Hamnet Thyssen said. Ulric doffed his fur cap, as if at a compliment. Hamnet might have know he would, but continued anyhow: “Besides, not only is Liv not my woman any more, I’ve got another one.”
“Well, so you do,” Ulric allowed. “But does it still count when she’s gone into hibernation?”
“I . . . don’t know,” Hamnet said slowly. Then he told the adventurer what Trasamund had suggested.
Ulric never wasted time making up his mind. “You ought to try it,” he said at once. “Even if it doesn’t work, how are you worse off? How are any of us worse off, eh?”
“The idea’s disgusting,” Hamnet said.
“I don’t see how,” Ulric Skakki answered. “No more than bedding a woman after she’s had too much to drink. If you tell me you’ve never done that, I’ll call you a liar to your face. And if she cares for you to begin with, she won’t mind—not as long as you don’t make a habit of it, anyhow.”
“Mmpf,” Hamnet said. Ulric could be much more persuasive than Trasamund was. “I still don’t think it’d do us any good.”
“How are you worse off if it doesn’t?” Ulric repeated. “It won’t hurt you to try. I’ve heard some people even enjoy it.” Hamnet made as if to hit him again. Ulric had to duck faster this time. As he did, he added, “It won’t hurt Marcovefa, either, not unless you’re even clumsier than I think you—Ow!” Hamnet did hit him that time.
“You deserved it,” Hamnet said.
“That’s what you think,” Ulric said. “Did you ask Liv about this? What did she tell you?”
“She told me I should,” Hamnet answered reluctantly.
“Well, then, you ought to listen to her,” Ulric Skakki said.
Count Hamnet scowled. “It’s like forcing a woman. By God, it is forcing a woman. That’s never been my notion of a good time. Besides, any man who forces a woman who’s also a wizard will probably end up a eunuch. Or if he doesn’t, he’ll wish he did, because something worse will happen to him.”
“I could point out that you’re a stiff-necked idiot,” Ulric said.
“You don’t need to. I already know that,” Hamnet told him.
“I’m so glad. But that isn’t what I was going to say.” Ulric looked and sounded exasperated. “I was going to say that you force a woman you don’t know, or maybe a woman you hate. You and Gudrid, now . . .”
“Leave Gudrid out of this,” Hamnet said in a voice that might have blown straight off the Glacier. It wasn’t that he hadn’t thought of forcing her and then cutting her throat, or maybe his own. He had. One of the things that held him back was the conviction she’d be laughing at him even while one of them or the other gurgled toward death.
Ulric made placating motions. “I was, I was. Here’s what I was trying to tell you. You don’t hate Marcovefa, right?”
“You know I don’t. You’d better know I don’t,” Hamnet said.
“Yes, yes. Fine. Wonderful,” the adventurer said. “If you love her, if you do this with love—or with something as close to love as your wizened little soul has in it—you won’t be forcing her. If it works, if she wakes up, she’ll thank you.”