best you're getting under the circumstances.'
Winterburne chuckled to himself. 'Besides,' he said, 'I'm not even sure that there is heather in these hills.'
oOo
The steady ascent into the hills, up the winding rocky paths from the plains below, had meant that the horses had worked hard all afternoon and the flora on the road on which they passed, if it could even be labelled with such a grand a name, had changed from grass to scrub to dead-wood, and then finally even that gave way to barren rock and gravel as they climbed higher still.
'What a god forsaken shit-hole this place is,' Winterburne said, looking up at the sky. 'No wonder this place has a reputation for harbouring criminals...no one with any sense would go near them.' He looked up at the grey cloud that shrouded everything. 'At least the rain has stopped though.'
A bright area of the sky hung above, but still the cloud covered all.
He added, 'Even the sun can't put in an appearance through this stuff.'
'It's not cold.' Rampton said. 'That's something to be grateful for, at least.'
'Thank god for that,' Winterburne frowned, 'I'm starting to feel depressed already, and it's only the first day.'
Rampton smiled. 'I'm thinking that it's time we looked for somewhere to make camp,' he said. 'Maybe we can get something hot inside us before it rains again.'
Winterburne nodded, and then looked around him. 'There's a problem, though. I'd like to see what it is you think you're going to find that will burn,' he said. 'I've seen little wood for miles, and what I did see looked sopping wet.'
Eventually, after pushing on for a little longer, they managed to find a flat ridge, covered only in a light gravel and suitable for both themselves and their horses and before too long they had covered the beasts in their waterproof blankets, unfolding their own tarpaulin covers ready for the night. It was almost home from home, thought Winterburne, after Rampton had left to see if he could find anything that they might build a fire with. As he filled a billy-can with water, the man walked around the corner of the trail carrying some old wood.
'Good man,' Winterburne said. 'I didn't expect you to find anything.'
'It's still a little damp,' Rampton said, 'but if we can get it going we might get a pot of tea out of it. The pickings are piss-poor though, this is about the best we can hope for. The further up the trail you go the more barren it gets.'
'We'll worry about the morning when it comes,' Winterburne said, 'for now, let's just be grateful for what you were able to get.'
After working hard, they managed to get a fire burning and after what seemed like hours the water had boiled and the two men were sipping the herbal tea that they had added to their road packs before they left.
Winterburne looked up at the sky where the shade of grey above their heads had turned darker.
'Those clouds are working their way over again,' he said. 'These tarps had better be good quality.'
'They are,' Rampton replied. 'They're top grade military standard.'
'Should I be impressed?'
'Not really,' Rampton smiled, 'we get all the shit that no one else wants to buy.'
Winterburne laughed. 'That sounds familiar.'
'These are alright, though, I had them checked out before we left.'
'Good thinking,' Winterburne said, lifting his drink to his mouth for another sip of the warming liquid.
Then, the first real drops of rain began to fall, heavy enough to beat on the ground and cause the fire to spit and spat as the droplets hit the surface of the wood as it burned. Steam rose from the hot timber, mixing with the smoke from what remained of the damp sticks.
'Great!' Winterburne said, as he looked up at the sky. 'That's just what we need.'
If there was a sun, he couldn't see it, but it was getting darker so somewhere above all of the cloud it must be lowering itself against the horizon and evening would be drawing in.
'I'm turning in,' Winterburne said. 'I feel exhausted, and anyway judging by this weather, sleep may be a precious commodity tonight.'
Rampton rose to his feet looking up. 'It'll be alright,' he said, 'I've slept in worst places.'
Winterburne frowned at Rampton. 'Honestly?'
'No,' Rampton said, as he flapped his oilskin tarpaulin, opening it out so that he could completely cover himself with it.
Winterburne sat on the hard, cold ground and leaned against the rock face pulling his own sheet over his body and then up over his head. Large drops of rain spattered on the cover, loud and constant on the material of the sheet.
'That's just what we need,' he said, 'there's no way that we're going to get any sleep with this bloody noise.'
26
The Eighth Day of Hi-summer,
Imperial Year 2332
Winterburne opened his eyes just a fraction, trying to hold back the truth as the memory of where he actually was crept back to the front of his mind. For the briefest of seconds he hoped he was wrong, that he was back in the warmth of Alyssa's bed, with her warm body tucked up beside him. But then that memory flew away and he opened his eyes fully. The rain must have stopped in the early hours of the morning, and he found himself surprised that he had even managed to get some sleep. He must have drifted off once the incessant noise had stopped and he felt surprisingly refreshed, although his backside was numb. He reached up and pulled back the tarpaulin. Then, his face was hit with the same misty drizzle that must greet every morning in these hills. Good grief, he thought.
'You're awake then?' Rampton asked.
'If you can call it that.'
Rampton was chewing on some of the biscuit waybread that they had brought with them.
'I didn't even bother looking for wood,' he said. 'Not much point in this.' He pointed upwards.
'How long have you been up and about?'
'A long time.' Rampton chewed some more. 'I never sleep much when I'm on patrol. Always been that way.'
'I don't supposed you managed to get a look around this morning?'
'Yep,' Rampton replied. 'I wandered a mile or so up the track, or rocky path, or whatever you want to call it, and then I had to come back.'
Winterburne frowned. 'Had to come back? Why had?'
Rampton had a knowing look on his face as he bit off another piece of the dense biscuit.
'There's a river up ahead, round the bend a bit,' he said, 'it's swollen by the rains.'
'Is it clean water?'
'I shouldn't think so, not with some of the things I saw washing down it.' He looked over at Winterburne and held up his hand. 'Don't even ask,' he said. 'But that's the least of our problems.'
'There's a problem?'
Rampton nodded. 'It's washed out the path.'
'That's all we need.' Winterburne sighed. 'Can we pass?'
'Haven't looked that closely, but even if we can, I shouldn't think the horses will make it.'
'So how do we continue?'
'No idea,' Rampton replied. 'Let's pack up the camp and then check it out properly.
oOo
After they had broken camp, Winterburne followed Rampton along the trail, pulling his horse behind him by the bridle. Before too long he could hear the roaring sound of fast moving water and it was getting louder the further he moved forward. He had to admit that things didn't sound promising.
'How much farther?' he called up to Rampton, trying to raise his voice above the noise.
'Not far,' Rampton said, 'just round this bend.'
They followed the path around in a tight arc to the right, passing around a rocky outcrop, and as Winterburne turned the corner the size of the problem came into view. The raging river ran parallel to the track for some way, up ahead, but then turned at close to right angles to the path. The power of the swollen river hitting the head of the bend had caused the unstable scree at the turn to give way and the land over which the path ran had slipped down into the water below.
'Damn,' Winterburne said, as he assessed the extent of the landslip.
There wa
s a thin bar of land remaining but it would be precarious.
'I reckon a man might just be able to pass, if he's lucky,' he called up to Rampton, 'but I can't see how the horses will. At least not without causing the ground to slip more.'
Rampton turned to face him.
'We have to try,' he said. 'We can't go on on foot and there is no other way to go. Least not unless we go back the way we came and look for another route into the hills. I haven't seen or heard of any wolves here but you can bet ten gold coins that these beasts won't be here on our return, even if we could find the same path back, which I doubt.'
Winterburne knew that the man was right. They were in trouble, he thought.
'If we took all the packs off their backs and led them on a long rope we might get through.'
Rampton still stared at the collapsed path.
'It's risky,' he said, pointing at the narrowest point, 'and there's a danger more ground could slip with the weight. If that happened then at the very least we would be split up. We could lose a mount...or much worse.'
'I haven't come all this way to turn back, John,' Winterburne said. 'Besides, I don't fancy trying to explain to Emperor Frederick how we came to give up so easily, least of all not when I have the chance of a life to go back to.'
Rampton looked back at Winterburne and sighed. 'Let's get all this kit off their backs and then see where we stand.'
It felt like ages to Winterburne, but eventually the packs were removed, the saddles unbuckled and laid out on the side of the trail. Finally, it seemed, everything was ready.
'I'll go first,' Winterburne said. 'Tie a rope around my waist, and then fasten the other around the neck of the