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