“You and Reglan were both wrong,” she told him as she snatched the belt from his hand. “I’ve never wanted to be chieftain of this clan. Chieftains apparently kill babies and allow innocent women to die for their mistakes. But you’ve convinced me of one thing. The people of Rhen deserve better than what they’ve had, and they definitely need better than what they’ve got.”
—
Roan was hovering over Malcolm, twisting a lock of hair and studying his collar, when Persephone burst into the roundhouse. Hanging on to a leather strap leashed to Minna, Persephone could barely restrain the wolf, who was intent on being somewhere else.
“Raithe!” Persephone shouted. “I need help. Suri and Maeve have gone looking for The Brown. They’re going to get themselves killed if we don’t catch them before they find her.”
Raithe got up and reached for his swords. “Is this the same bear that killed your husband?”
“Yes.”
Raithe looked toward the door. “Aren’t we going to need more people, then?”
“We don’t have time.” Minna gave a stout tug and began dragging Persephone back outside. “We—look, we aren’t going to kill the bear; we’re just stopping Suri and Maeve from getting near it. Maeve’s an old woman. We should be able to catch them if we start now.”
“Okay, fine,” Raithe said.
“Thank you.” Persephone let Minna pull her back out and toward the dahl’s front gate.
“Malcolm!” Raithe shouted, grabbing his spear and the Dherg shield. “Run to the lodge and get another spear off the wall.” He picked up a sheep’s bladder fashioned into a waterskin and threw it toward the ex-slave. “And here, fill that at the well, then catch up to us.” He looked at Roan. “It’s okay if we borrow it, right?”
She nodded.
“I’m going?” Malcolm asked nervously.
“Yep.”
“But I don’t know anything about hunting bears.”
“We aren’t hunting a bear,” Raithe said. “You just heard her.”
“Then why am I terrified?”
“Because it will be dark by the time we get out there, because I’m going, and because the gods are infatuated with me this month.”
“Tell me again why I’m going.”
Raithe ran toward the gate. “It’s your reward for hitting people with rocks.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
The Cave
What length will a mother go to on behalf of her child? How long is time? What is the depth of love?
—THE BOOK OF BRIN
Tall and narrow, the cave entrance was a jagged crack on the face of the mountain. Leafy plants grew on the ledges, but no trees dared approach. The dark void gaped with all the invitation of an open mouth spreading lichen-tarnished lips that dripped damp. Suri had explored many caves. Most were down by the Bern River, cut by the water along the cliffs. None were deep, and few were occupied by anything larger than swifts or foxes. Suri liked to think that she’d delved into every crevice in the Crescent Forest, but she hadn’t been in this one. Tura had forbidden it.
When Suri was a child, few things were off limits. She played in the cascades of the forest streams, swam in the flumes of the Bern, climbed to the small branches of the tallest trees and to the peaks where eagles nested. She’d broken an arm, skinned her knees, returned with bee stings, and suffered through rashes from ivy and sumac. Tura patched her up and sent her on her way for more explorations and adventures. Such injuries were trivial, but Grin’s cave was another matter. Real danger lay within, making it the single most interesting place in the forest.
Tura was right about everything. She knew when the first snows would come, that the purple salifan berries weren’t good to eat, and how to ease the pain of bee stings. She knew the language of the gods, the names of the stars, and the best way to skip a stone across a lake. Out of love and respect for Tura, Suri never went to the cave. Still, she paused in her travels whenever she spotted it and wondered what was inside. After so many years of speculation, Suri had created legends.
Grin wasn’t at home, of that Suri was almost certain, and she waited among the muddy bear-print artwork of the “porch” for Maeve to climb the last leg of the journey. The old woman had cast aside most of her wool wraps, going so far as to remove the ever-present white cloth from her head, which she used to wipe the sweat from her face. The locks of white were silky and long, and for a moment Suri could see a younger woman’s beauty.
“How did you manage to drag the—” Suri stopped herself. “The meat up here?”
“Oh—I didn’t.” Maeve puffed hard, steadying her quivering body on the rocks and wiping her red face. “I left the food at the bottom and whistled.” She dabbed at her glistening neck and smiled as a breeze blew through her hair. Again, Suri saw the girl Maeve had once been. The hair helped, but it was the smile that made the biggest difference. Judging from the wrinkles on her face, Maeve didn’t often do so.
“I don’t think Shayla would have hurt me, but during that winter—that long, cold winter—I wasn’t certain. Hunger can drive anyone crazy. I saw it on the dahl. Reglan executed people who had stolen from the granary. He told us it was necessary to maintain order, a deterrent and an example. But those killings also saved food, allowing others to live. When hungry enough, anyone is capable of doing terrible things. And Shayla wasn’t the only bear. Without enough food, none of them could sleep through the winter, and it was too dangerous to climb up here with all the ice. I left the food down below, whistled, and moved away.” Maeve looked into the darkness. “I’ve never been inside.”
“Neither have I,” Suri said.
Out of habit, Suri looked for Minna and felt a twinge of sadness. They’d done everything together. This would be the biggest adventure of all, and it hurt that Minna wouldn’t be with her. She was certain the wolf was just as obsessed with the cave. Suri would have to remember everything that happened so she could tell Minna afterward, probably the only way to be forgiven.
Suri led the way in.
The cave was dry. Most of the ones near the river had ceilings that dripped and pools of water near the entrance. This was dusty and stony with the ends of roots and packed dirt. She spotted fur—brown fur caught on the wall and shed on the floor. There were claw marks as well. Places Grin sharpened her weapons. Despite its impressive reputation, the cave wasn’t huge. The light from outside bounced in enough that once her eyes adjusted, she could see all the way to the back. The rear of the cave was a round alcove, a cozy den where Suri pictured the bear curling up for long winter naps. To the left was a pile, and Suri stopped when she realized what it was—a pile of bones. She saw the skulls of deer, foxes, squirrels, and sheep, but she also saw the unmistakable domes of human skulls. She counted eight, but the pile was deep. Strange how Grin had the same morbid decorating habits as the chieftains of Dahl Rhen.
As expected, Grin the Brown wasn’t home. Suri looked over her shoulder, thinking that Maeve might be frozen with fear, especially if she saw the bones. To the mystic’s surprise, the old woman pushed past with an eager look on her flushed face.