The wind howled outside them and the chamber held no warmth. His body
shivered and coughed, and excreted the pain that knew no bounds.
Sylviana moved the fire closer to the bed, then tried to seal out the
wind that stole through the cracks in the barrier.
It was hard and frustrating work. But rather than crumble to see Kalus
laid so low, and become cold and distant, she sensed that responsibility
for their survival had been shifted onto her, and she responded.
Through all the trials, all the highs and lows that she had endured the
last year of her life, she would have thought she'd have nothing
left, and that such a crisis would be her final undoing. But she was
wrong. A quiet strength and maturity had been growing inside her, and
now she put it to the test.
Forming the mortar to fill the cracks required effort and endless
perseverance. The hard earth below them, packed solid for so long, was
reluctant to be uprooted and mixed with melting snow beside the fire.
And the straw that was called for was simply unavailable. So she took
dry pine needles, ground them up, and mixed them in by hand. The only
large bowl' they possessed---a curving palette of stone---held
only a small amount compared to the number and size of the cracks she
must fill, and it was heavy and awkward. Then the mortar itself seemed
not to want to stay where it was put. It took constant adjustments in
the mix and in her technique just to find a half workable formula. Her
hands were cold and ragged and pricked by countless needles, and there
was no one to encourage her or appreciate the effort. Kalus was
oblivious, in sleep or in waking, and Akar was off somewhere alone. The
pup followed her with its eyes and occasionally whimpered for food. That
was all.
But that was not what mattered. The man she cared for, and who had done
the same for her many times, was sick and helpless. She stayed with the
task all through the night, until the work was done. Then at last,
wearily, she made her way to the bed and knelt beside him. His fever
still burned, and the cold drafts that pulsed down through the shaft
still troubled him.
She thought to make up his bed somewhere else, but realized that laying
him on the cold floor might be worse. She looked over through the
shadows at the dais beneath the altar, but could not think how to bring
the fire close enough..... The pup, lonely, hungry and confused, moved
beside her and looked up at her with pleading eyes. She comforted it as
best she could, then gently roused her companion.
'Kalus?'
'Yes.' His voice was flat, though he shivered.
'Later today I have to go to one of the reserves of meat, for the pup
at least. Then maybe move you to the dais, if that will help. Where is
the nearest of the reserves?'
He shook his head without a sound. Misunderstanding, she got angry.
'Why not? Don't you even care about the pup?'
Again he shook his head, and said in a hoarse voice. 'Too
dangerous.'
'Damn,' she said. 'Damn it all.' True, bitter frustration
had caught her at last, a destructive anger which found no release. She
stood up and paced wildly around the room. He knew what she was feeling,
and it troubled him.
'Where is Akar?' he asked.
'I don't know,' she replied, her anger turning swiftly to
concern, then bordering on panic. 'He's been out since last
night.' It would be the last straw if something had happened.....
She stiffened, hearing a scratching sound at the door. Fearing the
worst, her mind made no connection until she heard a sharp bark, and
Kalus said. 'It's the wolf.'
As she forced open the door against the onslaught of snow-laced wind,
she slid down, shivering in the cold and wet. Akar slipped past her.
When at last she recovered herself and rose and closed the door, she
leaned back against it to face him, her emotions strained to the limit.
When she saw what he carried she knelt down and embraced him and wept.
Though weak and injured himself, his mobility hampered still further by
the snow, somehow he had done it. A large rabbit lay on the floor
beside him.
'How did you do it?' she stammered. 'When we needed it
most.' Again she buried her face against him, in her exhaustion
unable to stop crying.
'Because he has the heart of a champion,' said Kalus, himself both
moved and ashamed. The help unlooked-for had arrived, and they would
live a little longer.