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skis as he could. That allowed him to rock himself over into a half-crouching,
half-kneeling position. From there he struggled upright, his snow-covered face
finally emerging into the glare, the snow almost chest-deep.
His skis felt mired, but he lifted each in turn, letting snow filter under
each, climb-packing his way up until he stood on the skis-merely knee-deep in
the powder that leached the heat out of his legs and feet.
See& you can get out of it, said Saryn.
This time, snorted Nylan, trying to brush the snow off himself, snow that
clung to everything but the leather trousers and packed itself into every
bodily crevice.
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He started after Ayrlyn even more cautiously than before, then stopped as
he saw a pair of figures sweeping from the ridge line above the tower.
Istril and Ryba skied slowly downward, a rope tied to a bundle they towed.
As they neared, each leaving a graceful dual line of ski traces in the snow,
Nylan could see the bundle consisted of a pale-coated winter deer.
He also marveled at their grace, doubting that he would ever match it. Part
of him never wanted to try as the snow melted in cold rivulets down his neck,
back, and legs. He forced a wave to the two skiers.
There s the engineer! Istril returned his wave.
As he started to follow Ayrlyn s tracks again, in a turn that would carry
him back toward the packed trail the horses used, Nylan found himself again
wobbling on the skis, conscious that the leather thongs provided no real
support. He jabbed his poles back down to balance himself and let himself
slide to a halt.
Watch your balance, said Saryn, nearly beside the engineer, making her
own track, the powdery snow nearly to her knees.
That s easy to say. Doing it is a lot harder.
Istril and Ryba had towed the deer carcass to the tower, unfastened their
skis, and lugged their kill and skis inside long before Nylan struggled the
few hundred cubits back to the tower.
That s enough for today, he declared. Maybe forever, he thought, as he
gathered skis and poles and trudged back across the causeway. He left a trail
of snow and water down to the storeroom beside the furnace, and on the steps
on his return trip back up to the great room for the midday meal.
Nylan slumped onto the bench before the hearth, aware that he was sitting
in damp trousers. His upper cheeks were nearly flaming red, and his ears ached
as they warmed. They hadn t been out in the cold that long-except it appeared
that the Roof of the World was even colder than a Sybran winter-and that was
cold, indeed.
Although there was no fire in the hearth, the great room was warm by
comparison to the frozen wasteland outside, and the bark-and-root tea helped.
He poured a second mugful.
You drank that quickly, said Ryba. You would too, if you d dived into a
snowbank and gotten stuck there.
You wouldn t have had that problem, pointed out Ryba, if you d started
trying to learn earlier.
Nylan took another sip of the tea. Ayrlyn had already told him as much, far
earlier, and he supposed he deserved the reminder, but skiing was a pain,
however necessary it might prove.
Ryba raised her eyebrows.
How were the bows in the cold? he asked, hoping to change the subject.
The bows are really good in the cold, Istril said from the foot of the
first table.
Nylan nodded. While he hadn t thought about that, both the composite and
the endurasteel had been designed to handle the chill of space and the heat of
high-temperature reentry, which would make them ideal for the chill of the
winter on the Roof of the World.
Gerlich s already snapped one of his great wooden bows in the cold,
Istril added in a lower voice, after looking around and not seeing the hunter.
I ll bet the new bows would be really good in cold-weather warfare.
Is anyone else crazy enough to be out in this weather? asked Nylan.
Well& they re good for hunting, too. Even Fierral thinks so, and she s
pretty hard on everything.
Is there that much out in the woods?
More than you d suspect, from the tracks, and that s good for us. You saw
the deer. That s a couple of meals, at least, even for twenty of us. There s
also a snow cat, almost all white, with big spread paws and claws. I don t
know how good the meat is, but I d bet the fur is warm.
Nylan nodded. After his brief excursion, a warm coat sounded better than
wool or a ship jacket, a lot better.
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