I glanced up at the ominous cloudy sky. The problem in the whole situation though was that we might not have a choice in the matter. I quickened the pace, as I began to look for better shelter for the coming nightfall and what it might bring with it.
Chatta drew up and whistled for his fellow trackers to pull back in.
The hired guns looked among themselves uncertainly, "Why are we stopping? There are still several hours of daylight yet?"
Chatta's stoic features took in the men assigned to him for the hunt, as he barely concealed his disgust for them. They had lived here in Siberia all of their lives and yet they were still unable to read the signs of nature or the story to be told in the clouds.
"Shelter is good here. We wait for big snow here."
Dumbly the men looked up seeming to take in the serious turbulent war clouds overhead for the first time.
Chatta turned away and gazed off down the trail. The snow would wipe out what little trail the two men and the woman had left. He would have to track them with signs that couldn't be seen from here on out. He would have to read the mind of the leader of the small band that they were chasing.
The man ahead of him intrigued him as few men did. To Chatta most men were an open book, but the man he had tracked for days had layers of depth to him. Chatta already keenly respected the skill with which his adversary had chosen his route and managed their retreat. Taking out the dogs and their handlers had been an act of carefully planned genius.
No doubt more such surprises existed within the mind of his adversary. He would have to be careful, even as he savored the chase of his adversary, in this game of death. Hard to kill men, who were knowledgeable of the ways of the land, were hard to find anymore. If he could arrange it, he would challenge this strange warrior and claim his strength, in a battle that he would win.
It was Trent that found the opening of the cave in the gathering darkness. Quickly we moved inside for shelter from the freezing wind that had begun to blow across the land outside. My hands guided by long practice soon had a fire made out of the fluffy punk of a rotted pine tree. I added wood to the little blaze and the cave lightened up.
There was an enraged squeal from further back in the cave. With a shriek Deshavi flattened back against the cave wall, as a full-grown boar hog along with her swine offspring came charging into the firelight.