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鈥渁 single person to cross。 miss abhorsen； here。
and sergeant； if you or private rahise so much as talk in your sleep about what you may have heard here； then you鈥檒l be on gravedigging fatigues for the rest of your lives！鈥�
鈥測es； sir！鈥潯ame the sharp reply； echoed by the unfortunate private rahise； who； sabriel noted； did seem half…asleep。
鈥渁fter you； please；鈥潯ontinued horyse； gesturing towards the door。 鈥渕ay i carry your skis again？鈥�
the army took no chances when it came to crossing the wall。 sabriel stood alone under the great arch of the gate that pierced the wall； but archers stood or knelt in a reverse arrowhead formation around the gate； and a dozen swordsmen had gone ahead with colonel horyse。 a hundred yards behind her； past a zigzagged lane of barbed wire； two lewyn machine…gunners watched from a forward emplacement鈥攖hough sabriel noted they had drawn their swordbayonets and thrust them； ready for use； in the sandbags； showing little faith in their air…cooled …rounds…per…minute tools of destruction。
there was no actual gate in the archway； though rusting hinges swung like mechanical hands on either side and sharp shards of oak thrust out of the ground； like teeth in a broken jaw； testimony to some explosion of modern chemistry or magical force。
it was snowing lightly on the old kingdom side； and the wind channeled occasional snowflakes through the gate into ancelstierre； where they melted on the warmer ground of the south。
one caught in sabriel鈥檚 hair。 she brushed at it lightly； till it slid down her face and was captured by her tongue。
the cold water was refreshing and； though it tasted no different from any other melted snow she鈥檇 drunk； it marked her first taste of the old kingdom in thirteen years。 dimly； she remembered it had been snowing then。 her father had carried her through； when he first brought her south into ancelstierre。
a whistle alerted her； and she saw a figure appear out of the snow； flanked by twelve others； who drew up in two lines leading out from the gate。 they faced outwards； their swords shining； blades reflecting the light that was itself reflected from the snow。 only horyse looked inwards； waiting for her。
with her skis over her shoulder； sabriel picked her way among the broken timbers of the gate。
going through the arch； from mud into snow； from bright sun into the pallid luminescence of a snowfall； from her past into her future。
the stones of the wall on either side； and above her head； seemed to call a wele home； and rivulets of charter marks ran through the stones like rain through dust。
鈥渢he old kingdom weles you；鈥潯aid horyse； but he was watching the charter marks run on the stones； not looking at sabriel。
sabriel stepped out of the shadow of the gate and pulled her cap down； so the peak shielded her face against the snow。
鈥渋 wish your mission every success； sabriel；鈥�
continued horyse； looking back at her。 鈥渋 hope 。 。 。 hope i see both you and your father before too long。鈥�
he saluted； turned smartly to his left； and was gone； wheeling around her and marching back through the gate。 his men peeled off from the line and followed。 sabriel bent down as they marched past； slid her skis back and forth in the snow； then slipped her boots into the bindings。
the snow was falling steadily； but it was only a light fall and the cover was patchy。 she could still easily make out the old north road。
fortunately； the snow had banked up in the gutters to either side of the road； and she could make good time if she kept to these narrow snow…ways。 even though it seemed to be several hours later in the old kingdom than it was in ancelstierre； she expected to reach cloven crest before dusk。
taking up her poles； sabriel checked that her father鈥檚 sword was easy in its scabbard； and the bells hung properly from their baldric。 she considered a quick charter…spell for warmth； but decided against it。 the road had a slight uphill gradient； so the skiing would be quite hard work。 in her handknitted； greasy wool shirt； leather jerkin and thick； double padded skiing knickerbockers； she would probably be too warm once she got going。
with a practiced motion； she pushed one ski ahead； the opposite arm reaching forward with her pole； and slid forward； just as the last swordsman passed her on his way back through the gate。 he grinned as he passed by； but she didn鈥檛 notice； concentrating on building up the rhythm of her skis and poles。 within minutes； she was practically flying up the road； a slim； dark figure against the white of the ground。
锛凤挤w。xi锛s锛╱otxt。锛ｏ集锛�
chapter iv
灏忥紲璇达紲t锛渪t锛炲ぉ锛煛峰爞
sabriel found the first dead ancelstierran soldier about six miles from the wall； in the last； fading hours of the afternoon。
the hill she thought was cloven crest was a mile or two to the north。 she鈥檇 stopped to look at its dark bulk； rising rocky and treeless from the snow…covered ground； its peak temporarily hidden in one of the light； puffy clouds that occasionally let forth a shower of snow or sleet。
if she hadn鈥檛 stopped； she would probably have missed the frosted…white hand that peeked out of a drift on the other side of the road。 but as soon as she saw that； her attention focused and sabriel felt the familiar pang of death。
crossing over； her skis clacking on bare stone in the middle of the road； she bent down and gently brushed the snow away。
the hand belonged to a young man； who wore a standard…issue coat of mail over an ancelstierran uniform of khaki serge。 he was blond and grey…eyed； and sabriel thought he had been surprised； for there was no fear in his frozen expression。 she touched his forehead with one finger； closed his sightless eyes； and laid two fingers against his open mouth。 he had been dead twelve days； she felt。 there were no obvious signs as to what had killed him。 to learn more than that； she would have to follow the young man into death。 even after twelve days； it was unlikely he had gone further than the fourth gate。 even so； sabriel had a strong disinclination to enter the realm of the dead until she absolutely had to。 whatever had trapped鈥攐r killed鈥攈er father could easily be waiting to ambush her there。 this dead soldier could even be a lure。
quashing her natural curiosity to find out exactly what had happened； sabriel folded the man鈥檚 arms across his chest； after first unclenching the grip that his right hand still had on his sword hilt鈥攑erhaps he had not been taken totally unawares after all。 then she stood and drew the charter marks of fire； cleansing； peace and sleep in the air above the corpse； while whispering the sounds of those same marks。 it was a litany that every charter mage knew； and it had the usual effect。 a glowing ember sparked up between the man鈥檚 folded arms； multiplied into many stabbing； darting flames； then fire whooshed the full length of the body。 seconds later it was out and only ash remained； ash staining a corselet of blackened mail。
sabriel took the soldier鈥檚 sword from the pile of ashes and thrust it through the melted snow； into the dark earth beneath。 it stuck fast； upright； the hilt casting a shadow li