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whole topography of the landscape was altered. Not only had the trail down the mountainside been swept away, but part of the peak was gone, spread fanwise across what had been a steep drop to the valley with its mountain torrent in the gorge below. Now the slope was no longer so steep, and the river was trying to carve a new path over the debris of the glacier fallen from the mountain.
    The wolf crouched and howled again.
    And again he was answered.
    The light was growing, though the snow was still falling. It was less a curtain than a haze, and not far away he saw a dark spot against the snow. It was Audovald. The horse was half buried. Only his neck and one forehoof were clear.
    The horse blew through his nostrils when the wolf approached.
Is it you
?
    Yes
. They touched noses.
    Audovald was reassured.
Are you angry
?
    The wolf touched noses with him again.
No. I’m frightened
. This was a body movement by the wolf and otherwise untranslatable.
    Lost her.
This was a cry of pain from the horse.
    The wolf touched noses with him again reassuringly.
We are all mortal. I trust you did what you could
.
    The whole mountain fell.
The horse was in distress.
The trail vanished from beneath my feet. The rest fled. Antonius tried to lead them to safety
. Audovald moaned, a single terrible sound from a horse.
I cannot know if he succeeded, but shed pushed the others ahead and we were too far back. I tried to ride it down. I failed
. He stretched his neck out, rested his chin on the snow pack, and closed his eyes.
    The wolf began to dig.
    All my legs are probably broken.
    Horses are pessimists,
the wolf thought. He paused in his labors and asked,
Are you in pain
?
    No.
    Then we will try.
The wolf continued digging.
    She heard it coming. So did I,
the horse continued.
The problem was the ice fall was so big we didn’t believe our own senses, but she turned, pushed them past us, and cried out a warning. Antonius acted quickly. But by the time it was upon us, she and I were last in the column and were swept away. I do not know what happened to the rest
.
    The wolf freed the horse’s other forehoof. Audovald tried to lunge forward, but then cried out in pain and fell back.
    Don’t struggle till I ask you to,
the wolf said.
    Yes, my lord,
the horse replied. The wolf noted, however, he seemed heartened.
    The Saxon saw her open the door. By some miracle the rest of the midnight court didn’t. The abbot had just jerked the torch away from his side, and he and the corpse gang were avidly watching their victim’s responses. The Saxon sagged back and lay on his side, eyes half closed, gasping for breath. She was a spot of pure beauty in a dark universe. Briefly he cursed her guardians again. How had they let such as she—certainly a noblewoman—fall into such utter peril? He hoped that seeing what they were doing to him, she would run. She should be terrified by this ghastly crew, but she didn’t seem frightened. Instead she reached around and drew her knife.
    A table knife, he guessed despairingly, but no, this thing counted as a short sword, a single-edged sax, and deadly.
    “Leave him alone,” she commanded.
    Blessedly, they did.
    The Saxon went through guilt that they’d concentrate their attentions on her, wild joy that she’d distracted them for a few moments, then hope that she was good enough with that pigsticker to hold them off until he could free himself. He’d tested the ropes during the earlier melee, and he was sure he could free himself, if only he could get a few moments alone.
    True, he was injured and, if he’d spared thought about it, in pain, but he was boiling with fury and an absolutely blind thirst for revenge.
    The whole crew surged toward her in a wave.
    He rolled on his back, drew his knees up toward his chest, and thrust his bound hands up over his feet. When they were in front of him, he snatched at the ropes at his ankles. They gave with a hard pull.
Half rotten, like everything else in this filthy place
,