The Wandering God

37 Cold As Ice And Frost 2/3

冷若冰霜
Lěng ruò bīng shuāng
As cold as ice and frost.
(Usually said of women) To have an icy manner.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Finally I got the fire started. I drove sticks into the sandy cave floor close to the fire and spread our clothes out on them to dry.

Then, pulling on my still sodden cape, I left the cave to search for food and something to carry water to the prince in.

Sanli had taken it hard, the news of his seal missing. When I left, he was staring at the cave ceiling, lips pressed together.

I vowed to find him something good to eat, to take his mind from it.

As I searched along the river bank, I was surprised that I did not feel as cold as the day before. The sky still hung steel grey above, as though at any second snow would drop. There was a wind, faint, but filled with cold mountain air that brushed against my skin, bare beneath my fur cloak.

But I did not feel the cold as I had. I attributed that to Yan's seals. They were contrary, stubborn things. I could not control them, yet they worked when I needed them, to keep me alive. And right now, I needed warmth.

I made my way up the river gorge, searching for the things that would keep Sanli alive.

On either side of me, tall tan cliffs rose, too sheer to be climbed without rope and hook. I knew there was likely a track somewhere, used by animals to get the river for water, but I did not want to waste time searching for it now.

Instead, I searched among the rocks by the river side, clambering over smooth boulders as the river washed by on my right. I looked for a rock, a hollowed out log, a large leaf, anything that I could use to carry water to the prince with.

I found something even better.

"My canteen!" I cried, plunging my hand into the water to grab the item's strap and pulling it up from where it bobbed in the river. The thing was still intact.

Then I realized. It could not be my canteen. Mine was firmly tied to In'yii's saddle. It was the Sanli's canteen, which had been tied to his own saddle. It must have washed ashore here.

If the canteen had washed ashore, perhaps there were other items from the prince's saddle nearby...

A faint whinny reached my ears.

I froze. Then I clambered over the rocks toward the sound, already knowing what I would find.

Little Light lay in the shallows at the edge of the river, washed by the current to a slower part of the rapids much as I and the prince had been the day before. The horse's body was half in the water, half out, it's neck propped against a slanting rock.

As I moved around the horse, I saw the reason the animal had not pulled itself out of the river.

A hole gaped in Little Light's side, just below the saddle. The wound was too deep and severe to have been caused by the rapids. It seemed the poor animal had not been as fortunate as the prince and I, and had caught the cliff face or a rock when falling to the river.

Now, the hole in Little Light's side was being widened further by the gnawing teeth of a wood stoat.

"Get away!" I shouted, chasing the small animal. It turned a sharp pink-dyed muzzle toward me in a snarl, then scurried away over the rocks, a brown blur.

Little Light saw me and startled, lifting his neck. But he was too weak to do much else.

"I'm here. I'm here boy," I said, sliding my legs beneath the horse's head. Gently I stroked the beast's neck, making soothing sounds. Little Light whickered softly.