Path of the Specialist Page 5

  “What a beauty,” Lasgol said.

  Erika was looking at it in delight. “I’d say it’s Rogdonian, pure-bred.”

  When it reached her side, Sigrid caressed it and spoke to it fondly, in a sweet whisper. “Spark, my dear companion in travel and adventure,” she murmured as she stroked his muzzle.

  Spark snorted and shook his head, recognizing his mistress.

  “Which of you is the Tireless Explorer?” she asked the group.

  Axe stepped forward. “I am, Mother Specialist.”

  “Right, you’ll lead the way, at a war trot. Nobody is to stop until you reach the rock wall.”

  “As you say, Mother Specialist.”

  Axe signaled to his colleagues and set off, and the others followed him at once. Isgord took three long strides and overtook him to lead the march.

  “The Tireless Explorer leads the way!” Sigrid scolded him.

  Isgord looked displeased but obeyed.

  “What a stupid obsession about always having to go first,” Ingrid commented.

  “Ignore him,” said Molak. “It’s just a desire to be noticed, and it’s a very bad quality.”

  “It’s just being a cretin, at least where I grew up,” Viggo muttered.

  Astrid and Erika laughed, and Lasgol had to hide a chuckle.

  Axe set a brisk trot, as the Mother Specialist had ordered him, and they made their way toward the Frozen Peak. At first they chatted, but after a while the conversation began to die out as they became more aware of the effort, particularly in the lungs. They could all keep up with the pace; Axe was going fast, but not overdoing it, like a good Tireless Explorer. If they had let Isgord lead, he would have forced the pace to the limit and exhausted them all in his obsession at being the best at everything. It was a long way from the Lair to the Frozen Peak, so that the pace was appropriate. Besides, they all knew that this was not the physical exercise Sigrid had meant. Something else was waiting for them at their destination.

  Nor were they mistaken.

  The Mother Specialist was waiting, with Spark beside her and the great rocky wall at her back. They had not seen her riding ahead of them, but because the valley was very wide, they were not surprised. She must have taken a more northerly route, or perhaps a more southerly one. They themselves had come in a straight line, or as directly as they could, dodging around the obstacles on the way.

  “Good warm-up,” Sigrid said when they reached her side.

  “Warm-up, she says...” Viggo protested. He was bent over with his hands on his hips, trying to get his breath back.

  “For me it was an invigorating race,” Ingrid said. She had already recovered.

  Molak smiled. “You’re a champion,” he said, and winked at her. He too had recovered.

  Ingrid smiled back at him.

  Lasgol, who was tired and had still not fully recovered, looked at Astrid. By now the brunette had almost got her breath back. It was surprising how strong those two women were. Luca and Erika were breathing deeply, in long gasps. They had not yet recovered. Lasgol felt a little better; he and Viggo were not the only ones suffering from the effort.

  Isgord was fully recovered, just as if he had not even run three paces. The worst thing was that he was not pretending. However much it irked him, Lasgol had to admit that Isgord’s physical strength and energy were enviable. He was probably the best of them all: either him or Molak, who was also a physical prodigy. Neither was especially tall or strong, both being wiry rather than muscular. Their bodies were not as heavy or cumbersome as those of the typical muscle-bound Norghanians. Hence, they could march for days, as well as being far more agile and flexible. In fact, they were both very similar physically, except that one was blond with a cocky stare and the other brown-haired, with warmth in his gaze.

  The ones who seemed to be having the most problems were the Specialists in Nature. Elina, Frida, Gonars and Sugesen were bent double and breathless. Luckily for them, their specialization required brains rather than body, and they certainly had those, particularly Elina and Frida. The more he got to know them – and he still did not know them particularly well – the more Lasgol came to realize how clever they were. He liked that. He thought it was fantastic to be surrounded by intelligent women; they would get the others out of more than one crisis, which Isgord would certainly not. Seeing Ingrid and Astrid ready, he realized that they had some clever, strong women in the group. With them they could stand up to anything that came their way: even a frozen dragon. Well, perhaps a dragon was too much... probably better not to experience that.

  “Right, then. It’s time to begin the exercise.”

  “So, what we’ve just been doing doesn’t count?” Viggo asked in a whisper.

  Erika smiled and shrugged. “Doesn’t look like it.”

  Viggo rolled his eyes, and she laughed.

  Sigrid pointed upwards. “The exercise consists of climbing the rock wall as far as the first ledge.”

  “Ledge, Mother Specialist?” said Astrid, who was looking up at the rock with narrowed eyes and could not see it.

  “There are three ledges at different heights in the wall. From down here you can’t see them, but they are there, I promise. Today you must reach the first one. You’ll need to go slowly, very carefully, because you’ll be climbing without ropes.”

  “Won’t it be dangerous?” Frida asked.

  “It will, but that’s the fun of the exercise. You’re Rangers, and you’ve been taught to climb using ropes and descend canyons, also using ropes. We Specialists prepare for when we find ourselves in a situation where there are no ropes or safety measures.”

  Viggo was shaking his head. “This is going to end very badly...”

  This time Ingrid did not shush him. She was worried. “It’s risky,” she said.

  “It depends on how high we have to go,” Molak said.

  “I’m afraid it’ll be pretty high,” Luca said. “Otherwise there’d be no risk...”

  “This exercise will strengthen your bodies, since free climbing is one of the most demanding exercises of all. And it will strengthen your minds, because fear and risk strengthen the character.”

  “How high do we have to go?” Ingrid asked.

  “The first ledge is fifty feet up. The second is seventy-five, and the third a hundred.”

  “Phew!” Viggo gasped. “Fifty feet!”

  “It’s quite a height,” Molak agreed.

  “We could break our backs if we’re not careful,” Astrid pointed out.

  “Our backs and more,” Erika said, looking troubled.

  Sigrid looked at them for a long moment, as she so often did, with that intense gaze that seemed to be reading their hearts, unearthing their fears and secrets.

  “You have nothing to fear. Go slowly. It’s not a difficult climb, and you can do it. Trust your strength and the training you’ve had, and you’ll make it. But be prudent, because you’re risking your lives.”

  There was silence among the group. They were all pondering the Mother Specialist’s words, trying to find the necessary courage to begin the climb. For a moment nobody ventured to take the first step.

  “Show me the starting point, Mother Specialist,” Ingrid said, and went up to the rock wall.

  “That’s the way I like it, a determined girl, sure of her possibilities. You’ll go far. Here.”

  Ingrid studied the wall for a moment, then began the climb, placing her hands and feet on the projections and cracks with extreme care. Molak followed her at once. He began to climb nimbly, secure in every hold. It was obvious that he was a natural climber.

  Lasgol looked at the others, but nobody seemed to have made up their minds to follow. He sighed and went up to the starting point.

  “Move over, I’m going first,” Isgord said, and pushed him aside.

  Lasgol was about to protest, but Isgord had already started to climb, also very nimbly and confidently.

  “Cretin...” He shook his head and let it be. It was not worth it.
Isgord always had to go first and be the center of attention. Even though fear had made him hesitate and had allowed Ingrid and Molak to go before him. That would certainly be eating at him inwardly as he climbed. Lasgol smiled at the thought.

  He looked at Sigrid, who gave him an intense stare. She nodded to him to start, and he put his hands on the wall, wondering whether she had read what he was feeling in his soul. There was something witch-like in that intense gaze of hers. Or perhaps it was all his imagination, and the truth was that there was nothing strange about her apart from her penetrating gaze.

  He began the climb, taking great care, seeking out the points of support. Some of these were natural, others man-made. It must have been the Elders who had done it, to make the climb easier and less risky. Lasgol loved climbing anything high, from trees to towers and buildings. He had loved it, ever since he was a child. The fact that he had spent his short life climbing and had athletic body gave him an advantage when it came to climbing high places. More than that, his mind was used to heights and he did not suffer from vertigo, which was an asset.

  He climbed with his body hugging the rock. He could not leave any space between himself and the cold wall, to avoid losing his balance. This they all knew, and he hoped nobody had forgotten. He looked below and saw that Astrid was coming up behind him. She smiled at him; she was following his steps. Suddenly he was afraid for her. Suppose she was no good at climbing? Suppose she put her foot in the wrong spot and lost her handhold? Suppose she fell? The mere thought made his heart miss a beat. It was better not to think about that now, he was fretting unnecessarily. Probably she was as good a climber as he was himself, or even better. He must not worry. He felt a little calmer and went on up.

  After Astrid came Viggo, with a look of great concentration on his face. After him came Frida, then Luca, who seemed to be having no trouble at all. Behind him came the rest of the group, who had finally made up their minds to face up to the test, seeing that their teammates were already on their way up. Frida, Elina, Gonars and Sugesen were the last, and judging by their faces they were afraid and desperately unsure. Lasgol hoped very much that they would make it. If they all followed the same route as the climber ahead of them and put their hands and feet where their partner had just done, everything would be all right.

  He himself did not need to follow Isgord, since he could climb easily following his own instincts, which for this situation were very effective. Astrid was close behind him. Lasgol slackened his pace so that she could follow him easily and could see where he was holding on to the rock every time he pushed himself up. There was a gentle breeze, and as it was still summer and autumn had not yet taken hold, it was warm and the wind was not strong. If it had been a winter wind, things would be very different and a strong gust might have sent them flying.

  They went up without stopping, very warily. Every hold, every effort, was critical, since they were at a considerable height now. Lasgol looked down at where Sigrid was watching them and calculated that if he fell from that height he could easily break his neck.

  “Are you doing okay?” he asked Astrid as he watched her climb.

  “I’m fine, don’t worry about me. Don’t look at me in case you lose your footing.”

  “Don’t worry, I’m holding tight.”

  “Even so, I’d feel easier if you looked up and not down. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

  “I just want to be sure about you.”

  “Well, looking at me won’t help.”

  “Okay, I just wanted to be sure...”

  “Keep climbing, I’m right behind you. If I need you, I’ll let you know.”

  “Okay.”

  Lasgol went on. Isgord was fifteen feet or so ahead and was looking down at him with a superior smirk, as if he were winning at some competition. Lasgol breathed out in disgust. This was not a race, but an exercise which involved danger and physical endurance. But for Isgord everything was a matter of competition, and all the more if Lasgol was in it too.

  The last ones began to lag, since they were climbing with greater difficulty and going much more slowly. When Lasgol passed the fifteen-foot mark, he looked up and saw that Ingrid and Molak had vanished. For a moment he was afraid, thinking that something had happened to them. Then he realized the truth: they had already reached the ledge, which was why he could not see them. They must be deep within the mountain, invisible from the wall. His spirits rose; a final effort, a little more to go and he would be there.

  He looked down to make sure Astrid was following him. She had almost caught up with him, clinging close to the rock, her face twisted in concentration. Lasgol smiled and looked up, ready to face the final stretch.

  Two rocks broke loose.

  And fell toward him.

  One of them struck him in the shoulder, the other in the head. It was a powerful impact.

  “Rock, look out!” came Isgord’s warning.

  Lasgol felt a terrible pain in his skull. Suddenly everything began to go round and round.

  “Lasgol!” Astrid shouted as the rocks brushed past her on their way down.

  The dizziness turned nauseating, and by now he was about to throw up.

  “Hold on!” Astrid yelled. “Hold on with all your might!”

  Isgord went over the ledge and vanished. The heads of Ingrid and Molak appeared, peering down.

  Lasgol was very dizzy. He could feel the blood running from his head down his forehead and his cheek. He was holding on to the rock with all his strength, but he did not know whether he could stay conscious... his sight was beginning to fail.

  “Lasgol, hold tight!” Ingrid begged him.

  He was trying not to fall, to hold on with all his might, but the dizziness and pain he was feeling were terrible.

  “Lasgol, hold on!” Astrid shouted desperately as she saw his head fall back, unable to stay upright.

  “Get down and rescue him!” Sigrid shouted.

  “Don’t let go of the wall,” Astrid cried. She climbed until she was at his level and put one hand on his back to stop him falling backwards.

  “I’m... dizzy...”

  “Hold on! I’m with you, I’ll hold you up!”

  “No... we’ll both fall...”

  “No, we’ll get out of this one. Hold tight!”

  Viggo appeared on his other side, and like Astrid, put his hand on Lasgol’s back to stop him falling.

  “Here we are in a jam all over again. That’s not like us, is it?” he joked, trying to ease the tension of the moment and keep Lasgol conscious.

  “Yeah... not... like us...” he mumbled, barely able to keep from fainting.

  Astrid and Viggo were pushing him against the wall, but his head was lolling and if he were to faint he would fall into the void. Suddenly his legs buckled under him. Astrid grasped him tightly and almost fell backwards with him. Viggo, clenching his teeth, held his weight.

  “He’s going to fall!” Astrid cried desperately.

  “Move over, Viggo!” Ingrid called. She was climbing down to them on a rope, and she had another one with her.

  “Hold on, Lasgol, help’s coming,” Astrid whispered to him.

  “I’m holding on... for... you...” Lasgol said, and his head lolled to one side.

  With a swift movement Ingrid passed the rope around his waist and quickly tied a knot. Lasgol fainted, and his legs failed him completely. He was slipping down.

  Ingrid held him tightly.

  Astrid was on the point of falling herself, but she did not let go of him.

  “I’ve got him, let him go,” Ingrid said to her, and the brunette nodded.

  Ingrid looked up. “Pull!” she yelled. The heads of Molak and Isgord appeared and they began to pull, hauling Lasgol up as if he were a sack of potatoes. Ingrid climbed up the other rope, and when she reached the ledge, she helped them pull Lasgol up.

  They managed to drag him on to the ledge.

  Chapter 6

  “Lasgol, wake up!”

  La
sgol heard his name, but could not open his eyes. He was lost somewhere, lost in a world of nightmares.

  “Lasgol, you’ve got to open your eyes!” came another voice.

  He wanted to wake up but could not. He could feel pain, nauseating pain. He did not know where he was or why. What were those voices? Who was it calling him?

  “If he doesn’t wake up, he’ll be in serious danger,” said another voice.

  “I know how to wake him.”

  Suddenly Lasgol felt as if he were being dropped into a lake of cool water. He sank and let the sensation of the water engulf him.

  “Well, it didn’t work, smartass.”

  “So, what’s your idea, then?”

  “Lasgol, wake up!” they shouted at him, and he felt them shaking him hard.

  “You and that typical subtlety of yours.”

  “Shut up, melon-head!

  “Shut up yourself, Bossy-Boots!

  “Let’s not argue, we’ve got to wake him so that we can get him down from here and they can see to him.”

  “Well then, think of something, Captain Fantastic!”

  “Lasgol, come back, we need you!”

  Lasgol reacted to the call for help. He shook himself.

  “I need you, come back to me!” said a feminine voice which he recognized, even though he did not know whose it was. He could not put a face to it, but he knew he wanted to be with her.

  “I need you, come back to me!”

  That voice... brought back feelings, emotions, passion, desire, happiness... who was it? Why was she calling?

  “Lasgol I love you, come back to me.”

  He felt soft lips on his, and desire and joy enveloped him.

  And he remembered.

  Astrid!

  He opened his eyes. The brunette was bending over him. Her eyes were moist.

  “Lasgol! You’re back!

  “What... what happened…? Ouch! My head.” He put his hand to the point of intense pain.

  “Don’t touch the wound,” Astrid said. “We gave you emergency treatment.”

  Stunned, with a terrible headache, he realized that he was lying on rock.