Kell's Legend

sleep. And the horses are dead on their feet.”
    “Lead the way,” said Kell, and they walked through the ankle-deep fall.
    Saark opened the door on creaking hinges, allowing snow to blow in, and Kell led the horses behind the road shelter and tied them up in a lean-to stable, at least secluded from the worst of the weather. He found a couple of old, dusty horse blankets and covered the beasts, and filled their nose-bags with oats from the dwindling remains of their saddlebag stores. Saark was right. They needed to rest and recharge; but more, they needed supplies, or soon the wilderness of Falanor would kill them.
    “It’s bare,” said Nienna, moving over and sitting on the first bed. The room had a low roof, and was long, containing perhaps sixteen beds. It was like a small barracks, and was chilled, smelling of damp. A fire had been laid at the far end, but the logs were damp.
    “It’ll save our life,” shivered Saark, and struggled from his cloak. In the gloomy light, his frilled clothes,splattered with dried blood, no longer looked so fine. “How are you two?”
    “Exhausted,” said Kat, and flashed Saark a smile. “It’s been…a strange few days, hasn’t it?”
    “We need to get a fire going. Nienna, will you go and find some wood?”
    Sensing they needed to be alone, Nienna left and the door slammed shut. Saark approached Kat.
    “What happened back there…”
    “It’s all right,” she said, smiling and placing a finger against his lips. “We both got carried away in the moment…”
    “No. What I meant to say was, I think you’re special. I am trying to be different. A reformed character.” His smile was twisted, self-mocking. “In my past life, I have been a bad man; in many ways. But I feel for you, Katrina.” He stared into her topaz eyes, and ran his hands through her short, red hair, still stuck with bits of straw from back at the village stables.
    She reached up, and kissed him, and for a long moment their lips lingered. “Let’s take it one step at a time. Let’s reach the king. Let’s save Falanor. Then we can play at holding hands.”
    Saark grinned. “You’re a wicked wench, that’s for sure.”
    She stroked his moustache, winked, then turned her back on him. “You better believe it, mister.”
    Nienna returned with firewood, followed by Kell, shivering and brushing snow from the shoulders of his mighty bear-skin jerkin. “Let’s get a fire lit,” he rumbled, “I could do with a pan of soup.”
    “You and your soup,” said Saark.
    “It’s good for the ancient teeth,” said Kell, but whereas once Saark would have bantered, now a gloomy silence fell on the group and they worked quietly, their humour a thing of the past.
    Once the fire was lit, and a little warmth built inside the road shelter, Kell used the last of their supplies to make a thin, watery soup. He also discovered he’d used the last of the salt. He cursed. What was life without a little salt?
    Outside, darkness fell, and the snowfall increased in intensity.
    “Winter’s finally come,” said Saark, gesturing out of the small windows.
    “Good,” grunted Kell. “It’ll slow the invading army.”
    “Don’t you find it odd,” said Saark, playing with his dagger on the thick-planks of the table.
    “What do you mean?”
    “The Army of Iron, invading at the start of winter. Guaranteed a slow advance, men freezing to death, supply problems, lowered morale. There’s nothing like standing all night in the damn snow to sap a man’s morale; it’s like spreading syphilis. I know, I’ve done it. I thought my feet would never get warm again. It was two whole days before I felt life in my little toes! So, a strange choice then, yes?”
    “Yes,” grunted Kell, finishing the last of his broth. He had made better, but the girls didn’t complain. He’d expected a few jibes from Saark, along the lines of his soup being the watery consistency of old goat piss; but Saark had remained silent, moody. Since their fight in the street, Saark had retreated into himself, into his shell, and whilst a part of Kell was gladof the change in character, another part of him, a part he did not recognise, actually missed the banter. With a jolt like a shock of lightning, Kell realised he liked the dandy; although he was damned if he could figure out why.
    Nienna and Kat moved away to sort out the sleeping arrangements, and check for extra blankets. They’d found some, which they laid out on the floor before the