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“i don’t know；” said sabriel。
“it holds power when you say it；” added the colonel slowly。 he swallowed； open…mouthed； as if the taste of the charter marks was still in the air。 “if i spoke those words； that’s all they would be。 just words。”
“i can’t explain it。” sabriel shrugged； and attempted a smile。 “but i do know other sayings that are more to the point at the moment； like： ‘traveler； embrace the morning light； but do not take the hand of night。’ i must be on my way。”
horyse smiled at the old rhyme； so beloved of grandmothers and nannies； but it was an empty smile。 his eyes slid a little away from sabriel’s and she knew that he was thinking about refusing to let her cross the wall。 then he sighed； the short； huffy sigh of a man who is forced into a course of action through lack of alternatives。
“your papers are in order；” he said； meeting her gaze once again。 “and you are the daughter of abhorsen。 i cannot do other than let you pass。
but i can’t help feeling that i am thrusting you out to meet some terrible danger。 i can’t even send a patrol out with you； since we have five full patrols already out there。”
“i expected to go alone；” replied sabriel。 she had expected that； but felt a tinge of regret。 a protective group of soldiers would be quite a fort。 the fear of being alone in a strange and dangerous land； even if it was her homeland； was only just below the level of her excitement。
it wouldn’t take much for the fear to rise over it。
and always； there was the picture of her father in her mind。 her father in trouble； trapped and alone in the chill waters of death 。 。 。
“very well；” said horyse。 “sergeant！”
a helmeted head appeared suddenly around the doorway； and sabriel realized two soldiers must have been standing on guard outside the dugout； on the steps up into the munication trench。 she wondered if they’d heard。
“prepare a crossing party；” snapped horyse。
“a single person to cross。 miss abhorsen； here。
and sergeant； if you or private rahise so much as talk in your sleep about what you may have heard here； then you’ll be on gravedigging fatigues for the rest of your lives！”
“yes； sir！” came the sharp reply； echoed by the unfortunate private rahise； who； sabriel noted； did seem half…asleep。
“after you； please；” continued horyse； gesturing towards the door。 “may i carry your skis again？”
the army took no chances when it came to crossing the wall。 sabriel stood alone under the great arch of the gate that pierced the wall； but archers stood or knelt in a reverse arrowhead formation around the gate； and a dozen swordsmen had gone ahead with colonel horyse。 a hundred yards behind her； past a zigzagged lane of barbed wire； two lewyn machine…gunners watched from a forward emplacement—though sabriel noted they had drawn their swordbayonets and thrust them； ready for use； in the sandbags； showing little faith in their air…cooled …rounds…per…minute tools of destruction。
there was no actual gate in the archway； though rusting hinges swung like mechanical hands on either side and sharp shards of oak thrust out of the ground； like teeth in a broken jaw； testimony to some explosion of modern chemistry or magical force。
it was snowing lightly on the old kingdom side； and the wind channeled occasional snowflakes through the gate into ancelstierre； where they melted on the warmer ground of the south。
one caught in sabriel’s hair。 she brushed at it lightly； till it slid down her face and was captured by her tongue。
the cold water was refreshing and； though it tasted no different from any other melted snow she’d drunk； it marked her first taste of the old kingdom in thirteen years。 dimly； she remembered it had been snowing then。 her father had carried her through； when he first brought her south into ancelstierre。
a whistle alerted her； and she saw a figure appear out of the snow； flanked by twelve others； who drew up in two lines leading out from the gate。 they faced outwards； their swords shining； blades reflecting the light that was itself reflected from the snow。 only horyse looked inwards； waiting for her。
with her skis over her shoulder； sabriel picked her way among the broken timbers of the gate。
going through the arch； from mud into snow； from bright sun into the pallid luminescence of a snowfall； from her past into her future。
the stones of the wall on either side； and above her head； seemed to call a wele home； and rivulets of charter marks ran through the stones like rain through dust。
“the old kingdom weles you；” said horyse； but he was watching the charter marks run on the stones； not looking at sabriel。
sabriel stepped out of the shadow of the gate and pulled her cap down； so the peak shielded her face against the snow。
“i wish your mission every success； sabriel；”
continued horyse； looking back at her。 “i hope 。 。 。 hope i see both you and your father before too long。”
he saluted； turned smartly to his left； and was gone； wheeling around her and marching back through the gate。 his men peeled off from the line and followed。 sabriel bent down as they marched past； slid her skis back and forth in the snow； then slipped her boots into the bindings。
the snow was falling steadily； but it was only a light fall and the cover was patchy。 she could still easily make out the old north road。
fortunately； the snow had banked up in the gutters to either side of the road； and she could make good time if she kept to these narrow snow…ways。 even though it seemed to be several hours later in the old kingdom than it was in ancelstierre； she expected to reach cloven crest before dusk。
taking up her poles； sabriel checked that her father’s sword was easy in its scabbard； and the bells hung properly from their baldric。 she considered a quick charter…spell for warmth； but decided against it。 the road had a slight uphill gradient； so the skiing would be quite hard work。 in her handknitted； greasy wool shirt； leather jerkin and thick； double padded skiing knickerbockers； she would probably be too warm once she got going。
with a practiced motion； she pushed one ski ahead； the opposite arm reaching