Far Horizons: Tales of Sci-Fi, Fantasy and Horror. Issue #21 December 2015 | Page 21

and bursting with new growth. As they moved further east the land began to change, becoming less green and productive until it became a barren landscape of broken rocks, dotted with patches of snow and ice. Eventually they were riding on solid ice and had to slow their progress to protect the horses. At night they pitched a tent, made from tanned animal hides, and slept two at a time, huddled together for warmth. They made no fire, because there was nothing to burn. Manfred found the close contact interesting. He was able to read much in the minds of his companions. Kris was much happier now. He didn’t even show much fear for the wargs tracking them. He was enthusiastic about his new role as writer and bard. Manfred was amused by the clumsy attempts at rhyming that were constantly in his head. Aglaral continued to worry about his family and debate whether he should have taken up Gamying’s offer to stay in Tamarlan. Manfred was pleased to note that the debate always ended with his desire to serve the Balance and his loyalty to the old wizard winning through. Ubadah was something else. His mind was full of constant grumbles that sometimes would surface enough for him to gripe about. It was too cold; the food was not adequate; he didn’t like sharing accommodation, especially with lower class persons such as soldiers and bards; he shouldn’t have to carry his own luggage; he wasn’t shown enough respect and deference; people should ask his permission to speak or do things; and so it went on. Manfred felt depressed by it all. Ubadah is going to be trouble, I feel it in my old bones. They saw no living things during their journey, other than the ever-present wargs. On the afternoon of the third day, their horses tired and hungry, they came upon a track leading up into the hills. It was no more than a goat track. Manfred had hoped it would be good enough to ride the horses fu 'F