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of stout poles with several layers of tough hide stretched between them; Silberhutte was strapped face-down to the shaggy back of one of the other beasts. He had been unconscious for three-quarters of the time, knocked down by the flat of a tomahawk that had all but caved in his skull when the wolf-warriors overran him, and de Marigny had at first feared him dead. When at last he had seen the Texan move, then Silberhutte's aerial colleague had been both vastly relieved and delighted, particularly when the prisoner had turned his head on one side to gaze skyward, nodding his awareness when he saw the cloak belling out like a great kite on high.
    De Marigny marvelled at the strength of the wolf-warriors that they could go so long without resting. Four rode upon the backs of the wolves while the others half-ran, were half-dragged along beside the animals, their fists knotted in the shaggy hair of the huge beasts' flanks. Periodically they would take turns about riding, but even though they obviously relished this occasional respite, still they seemed singularly tireless. But while the stamina of the redskins was not in question, de Marigny himself was beginning to feel very tired, cold, and hungry. Time and again he thought to bless Kota'na, whose fur he wore so gladly.
    Twice he had let the party move well ahead before descending to solid ground and giving himself a little exercise, rubbing the numbness from stiff limbs and shaking the weariness out of a head that still ached abominably. On both occasions he had caught up with the wolf-warrior party easily enough afterward, but now his fatigue was such that he began to despair. Surely they must rest soon, when he too might be able to snatch a little sleep?
    But it was not until several more miles had been covered that the party made camp. Silberhutte was bundled down from the wolf's back and given food — the sight of which, whatever it was that the Texan was offered, made de Marigny's mouth water — following which the Warlord's hands were tied again, and he was put into the close care of three guards. The other four Indians immediately settled down on the naked ground and went to sleep, as did the wolves.
    De Marigny was amazed at the apparent invulnerability of these men to the cold (even in this more or less temperate zone the temperature was well down), until he remembered what Silberhutte had told him about the Wind-Walker's effect upon those who came too close to him: the permanent alterations his presence wrought in human tissues and body temperatures. This was why the Warlord's hands always seemed so cold while he himself suffered no discomfort in the most bitter conditions. As for de Marigny: he was growing colder by the minute. His one consoling thought was that however bad his plight might seem to be, Hank Silberhutte's was so much more desperate.
    As soon as he was sure that the party was settled in for a few hours at least, de Marigny flew off to one flank and sought a place to hide, shelter, and rest. He found it
    some miles away in a small cave , whose entrance was all but covered by scrub, and there he rested down, pulling Kota'na's fur close about him .. .
    When he awakened, de Marigny guessed that he had slept overlong. His limbs were stiff and he was colder than ever. Beating his arms across his chest to get the circulation going, he left his cave and came into the open. Then, with his fur wrapped about him to its best advantage, he took once more to the sky.
    To the north the sky was overcast, bearing the merest threat of a storm. When de Marigny had arrived on Borea, he had flown high over the plateau, remembering it now as a grimly foreboding jut of grey rock standing massively up from a vast plain of snow. He knew that it could not be long before he flew back into that region, and that then indeed he would be hard put to survive in such low temperatures. Moreover Silberhutte had told him that was where the Children of the Wind were most densely