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wizard's power loomed again over his thoughts； over the whole of the realm； from Isig to Hed。 There seemed no escape from it。 He began to sob harshly； hopelessly； possessing no other answer。 The wizard； his shoulders slumping as if the weight of the realm dragged at his back； gave him nothing but silence。
XIV
THEY LEFT ISIG THE NEXT DAY： THREE CROWS flying among the billowing smoke from Danan's forges。 They crossed the Ose； flew over the docks at Kyrth； every ship moored there was being overhauled for a long journey down the river to the heavy autumn seas。 The grey rains beat against them over the forests of Osterland； the miles of ancient pine were hunched and weary。 Grim Mountain rose in the distance out of a ring of mist。 The east and north winds swarmed around them； the crows dipped from current to current； their feathers alternately sleeked and billowed by the erratic winds。 They stopped to rest frequently。 By nightfall they were barely halfway to Yrye。
They stopped for the night under the broad eaves of an old tree whose thick branches sighed resignedly in the rain。 They found niches in it to protect themselves from the weather。 Two crows huddled together on a branch； the third landed below them； a big； dark； windblown bird who had not spoken since they left Isig。 For hours they slept； shielded by the weave of branches； lulled by the wind。
The winds died at midnight。 The rains slowed to a whisper； then faded。 The clouds parted； loosing the stars cluster by cluster against a dazzling blackness。 The unexpected silence found its way into Morgon's crow…dreams。 His eyes opened。
Raederle was motionless beside him； a little cloud of soft black plumage。 The crow beneath him was still。 His own shape pulled at him dimly； wanting to breathe the spices of the night； wanting to bee moonlight。 He spread his wings after a moment； dropped soundlessly to the ground； and changed shape。
He stood quietly； enfolded in the Osterland night。 His mind opened to all its sounds and smells and shapes。 He laid his hand against the wet； rough flank of the tree and felt it drowsing。 He heard the pad of some night hunter across the soft； damp ground。 He smelled the rich； tangled odors of wet pine； of dead bark and loam crumbled under his feet。 His thoughts yearned to bee part of the land； under the light； silvery touch of the moon。 He let his mind drift finally into the vast； tideless night。
He shaped his mind to the roots of trees； to buried stones； to the brains of animals moving obliviously across the path of his awareness。 He sensed in all things the ancient sleeping fire of Har's law； the faint； perpetual fire behind his eyes。 He touched fragments of the dead within the earth； the bones and memories of men and animals。 Unlike the wraiths of An； they were quiescent； at rest in the heart of the wild land。 Quietly； unable to resist his own longings； he began weaving his bindings of awareness and knowledge into the law of Osterland。
Slowly he began to understand the roots of the land…law。 The bindings of snow and sun had touched all life。 The wild winds set the vesta's speed； the fierceness of seasons shaped the wolf's brain； the winter night seeped into the raven's eye。 The more he understood； the deeper he drew himself into it： gazing at the moon out of a horned owl's eyes； melting with a wild cat through the bracken； twisting his thoughts even into the fragile angles of a spider's web； and into the endless； sinuous wind of ivy spiralling a tree trunk。 He was so engrossed that he touched a vesta's mind without questioning it。 A little later； he touched another。 And then； suddenly； his mind could not move without finding vesta； as if they had shaped themselves out of the moonlight around him。 They were running： a soundless white wind ing from all directions。 Curiously； he explored then： impulse。 Some danger had sent them flowing across the night； he sensed； and wondered what would dare trouble the vesta in Har's domain。 He probed deeper。 Then he shook himself free of them； the swift； startled breath he drew of the icy air cleared his head。
It was nearly dawn。 What he thought was moonlight was the first silver…grey haze of morning。 The vesta were very close； a great herd wakened by Har； their minds drawn with a fine instinct towards whatever had brought the king out of his sleep and disturbed the ancient workings of his mind。 Morgon stood still； considering various impulses： to take the crow…shape and escape into the tree； to take the vesta…shape； to try to reach Har's mind； and hope he was not too angry to listen。 Before he could act； he found Yrth standing next to him。
〃Be still；〃 he said； and Morgon； furious at his own acquiescence； followed the unlikely advice。
He began to see the vesta all around them； through the trees。 Their speed was incredible； the unwavering drive toward one isolated point in the forests was eerie。 They were massed around him in a matter of moments； surrounding the tree。 They did not threaten him； they simply stood in a tight； motionless circle； gazing at him out of alien purple eyes； their horns sketching gold circles against the trees and the pallid morning sky as far as he could see。
Raederle woke。 She gave one faint； surprised squawk。 Her mind reached into Morgon's； she said his name on a questioning note。 He did not dare answer； and she was silent after that。 The sun whitened a wall of cloud in the east； then disappeared。 The rain began again； heavy； sullen drops that plummeted straight down from a windless sky。
An hour later； something began to ripple through the herd。 Morgon； drenched from head to foot and cursing Yrth's advice； watched the movement with relief。 One set of gold horns was moving through the herd； he watched the bright circles constantly fall apart before it and rejoin in its wake。 He knew it must be Har。 He wiped rain out of his eyes with a sodden sleeve and sneezed suddenly。 Instantly； the vesta nearest him； standing so placidly until then； belled like a stag and reared。 One gold hoof slashed the air apart inches from Morgon's face。 His muscles turned to stone。 The vesta subsided； dropping back to gaze at him again； peacefully。
Morgon stared back at it； his heartbeat sounding unfortably loud。 The front circle broke again； shifting to admit the great vesta。 It changed shape。 The wolf…king stood before Morgon； the smile in his eyes boding no good to whoever had interrupted his sleep。
The smile died as he recognized Morgon。 He turned his head； spoke one word sharply； the vesta faded like a dream。 Morgon waited silently； tensely； for judgment。 It did not e。 The king reached out； pushed the wet hair back from the stars on his face； as if answering a doubt。 Then he looked at Yrth。
〃You should have warned him。〃
〃I was asleep；〃 Yrth said。 Har grunted。
〃I thought you never slept。〃 He glanced up into the tree and his face gentled。 He held up his hand。 The crow dropped down onto his fingers； and he set it on his shoulder。 Morgon stirred； then。 Har looked at him； his eyes glinting； ice…blue； the color of wind across the sky above the wastes。
〃You；〃 he said； 〃stealing fire from my mind。 Couldn't you have waited until morning？〃
〃Har。。。〃 Morgon whispered。 He shook his head； not knowing where to begin。 Then he stepped forward； his head bowed； into the wolf…king's embrace。 〃How can you trust me like this？〃 he demanded。
〃Occasionally；〃 Har admitted； 〃I am not rational。〃 He loosed Morgon； held him back to look at him。 〃Where did Raederle find you？〃
〃In the wastes。〃
〃You look like a man who has been listening to those deadly winds。。。 e to Yrye。 A vesta can travel faster than a crow； and this deep into Osterland； vesta running together will not be noticed。〃 He dropped his hand lightly onto the wizard's shoulder。 〃Ride on my back。 Or on Morgon's。〃
〃No；〃 Morgon said abruptly； without thinking。 Har's eyes went back to him。
Yrth said； before the king could speak； 〃I'll ride in crow…shape。〃 His voice was tired。 〃There was a time when I would have chanced running blind for the sheer love of running； but no more。