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ght； the hilt casting a shadow like a cross upon the ashes。 something glinted in the shadow and； belatedly； sabriel remembered that the soldier would have worn an identity disc or tag。
shifting her skis again to rebalance she bent down and hooked the chain of the identity disc on one finger； pulling it up to read the name of the man who had met his end here； alone in the snow。 but both the chain and disc were machinemade in ancelstierre and so unable to withstand the charter magic fire。 the disc crumbled into ash as sabriel raised it to eye level and the chain fell into its ponent links； pouring between sabriel鈥檚 fingers like small steel coins。
鈥減erhaps they鈥檒l know you from your sword；鈥�
said sabriel。 her voice sounded strange in the quiet of the snowy wilderness and； behind each word； her breath rolled out like a small； wet fog。
鈥渢ravel without regret；鈥潯he added。 鈥渄o not look back。鈥�
sabriel took her own advice as she skied away。
there was an anxiety in her now that had been mostly academic before and every sense was alert； watchful。 she had always been told that the old kingdom was dangerous； and the borderlands near the wall particularly so。 but that intellectual knowledge was tempered by her vague childhood memories of happiness； of being with her father and the band of travelers。
now； the reality of the danger was slowly ing home 。 。 。
half a mile on she slowed and stopped to look up at cloven crest again； neck cricked back to watch where the sun struck between the clouds； lighting up the yellow…red granite of the bluffs。
she was in cloud shadow herself； so the hill looked like an attractive destination。 as she looked； it started to snow again； and two snowflakes fell upon her forehead； melting into her eyes。 she blinked and the melted snow traced tear trails down her cheeks。 through misted eyes； she saw a bird of prey鈥攁 hawk or kite鈥攍aunch itself from the bluffs and hover； its concentration totally centered upon some small mouse or vole creeping across the snow。
the kite dropped like a cast stone； and a few seconds later； sabriel felt some small life snuffed out。 at the same time； she also felt the tug of human death。 somewhere ahead； near where the kite dined； more people lay dead。
sabriel shivered； and looked at the hill again。
according to horyse鈥檚 map； the path to cloven crest lay in a narrow gully between two bluffs。
she could see quite clearly where it must be； but the dead lay in that direction。 whatever had killed them might also still be there。
there was sunlight on the bluffs； but the wind was driving snow clouds across the sun and sabriel guessed it was only an hour or so till dusk。 she鈥檇 lost time freeing the soldier鈥檚 spirit； and now had no choice but to hurry on if she wished to reach cloven crest before nightfall。
she thought about what lay ahead for a moment； then chose a promise between speed and caution。 stabbing her poles into the snow； she released her bindings； stepped out of her skis and then quickly fastened skis and poles together to be strapped diagonally across her backpack。 she tied them on carefully； remembering how they鈥檇 fallen and broken her charterspell on the parade ground鈥攐nly that morning； but it seemed like weeks ago and a world away。
that done； she started to pick her way down the center of the road； keeping away from the gutter drifts。 she鈥檇 have to leave the road fairly soon； but it looked like there was little snow on the steep； rocky slopes of cloven crest。
as a final precaution； she drew abhorsen鈥檚 sword； then resheathed it； so an inch of blade was free of the scabbard。 it would draw fast and easily when she needed it。
sabriel expected to find the bodies on the road； or near it； but they lay further on。 there were many footprints； and churned…up snow； leading from the road towards the path to cloven crest。
that path ran between the bluffs； following a route gouged out by a stream falling from some deep spring higher up the hill。 the path crossed the stream several times； with stepping…stones or tree trunks across the water to save walkers from wet feet。 halfway up； where the bluffs almost ground together； the stream had dug itself a short gorge； about twelve feet wide； thirty feet long and deep。 here； the pathmakers had been forced to build a bridge along the stream； rather than across it。
sabriel found the rest of the ancelstierran patrol here； tumbled on the dark olive…black wood of the bridge； with the water murmuring beneath and the red stone arching overhead。
there were seven of them along the bridge鈥檚 length。 unlike the first soldier； it was quite clear what had killed them。 they had been hacked apart and； as sabriel edged closer； she realized they had been beheaded。 worse than that； whoever 。 。 。 whatever 。 。 。 had killed them had taken their heads away鈥攁lmost a guarantee that their spirits would return。
her sword did draw easily。 gingerly； her right hand almost glued to the sword hilt； sabriel stepped around the first of the splayed…out bodies and onto the bridge。 the water beneath was partly iced over； shallow and sluggish； but it was clear the soldiers had sought refuge over it。
running water was a good protection from dead creatures or things of free magic； but this torpid stream would not have dismayed even one of the lesser dead。 in spring； fed with melted snow； the stream would burst between the bluffs； and the bridge would be knee…deep in clear； swift water。 the soldiers would probably have survived at that time of year。
sabriel sighed quietly； thinking of how easily seven people could be alive in one instant； and then； despite everything they could do； despite their last hope； they could be dead in just another。
once again； she felt the temptation of the necromancer； to take the cards nature had dealt； to reshuffle them and deal again。 she had the power to make these men live again； laugh again； love again 。 。 。
but without their heads she could only bring them back as 鈥渉ands；鈥潯 derogatory term that free magic necromancers used for their lackluster revenants； who retained little of their original intelligence and none of their initiative。 they made useful servants； though； either as reanimated corpses or the more difficult shadow hands； where only the spirit was brought back。
sabriel grimaced as she thought of shadow hands。 a skilled necromancer could easily raise shadow hands from the heads of the newly dead。 similarly； without the heads； she couldn鈥檛 give them the final rites and free their spirits。
all she could do was treat the bodies with some respect and； in the process； clear the bridge。
it was near to dusk； and dark already in the shadow of the gorge； but she ignored the little voice inside her that was urging her to leave the bodies and run for the open space of the hilltop。
by the time she finished dragging the bodies back down the path a way； laying them out with their swords plunged in the earth next to their headless bodies； it was dark outside the gorge too。 so dark； she had to risk a faint； charterconjured light； that hung like a pale star above her head； showing the path before dying out。
a slight magic； but one