Harold Lamb

“ The girl was climbing swiftly to the lookout, clad in a new manner, her small feet snug in deerskin boots, her slim body wrapped in a fox-fur tunic and a felt hood drawn over her head. It was the first time he had seen a woman without a skirt that came clear to the ground, but Joan Andrews was careless of her unwonted dress.
“Why, the lad is in a pet.” She glanced searchingly at his drawn face. “The frost will harden in you, if you go not abroad in warmer garments than those. ”

“ Moreover she had warned him earnestly not to venture abroad without her, and this went sorely against his pride. And there came a day when the hoar frost was white on the ground. Snow fell that night, driving the Easterlings into the Wardhouse. Their hunger sharpened by the bitter wind, the savages fell upon Thorne's store of victuals. Only half warming the meat and fish at the fire, they gorged until their bodies swelled.
Thorne went out to the hill as soon as the snow ceased, after cautioning Peter against quarreling with Tuon and his men. ”

“ Springing up and throwing off his robe, he motioned to Peter to follow his example.
“Kyrger says,” Joan explained, “that we must wrap our heads in the coverings and he down with our heads toward the sea. A khylden is coming out of the Ice Sea.”
“What is that?” Thorne asked.
“A snow driver. I do not know what it is. Kyrger says we must do as his reindeer.” The hunter spoke to her again, and she added. “You and I are to creep under the felt—'twill not hold Peter's bulk.”
“A snow driver? Faith, man or beast or elemental, let it come,” growled Peter. “Who fears a starm on the mainland? ”

“ We can be masters in this island before the sand runs from the glass again.”
Thorne looked at him silently. He and Joan had not been gone from the house an hour and in that time twenty savages had downed two half barrels of brandy and beer. They were not accustomed to such liquor, and he wondered whether they would ever stand upon their feet again. Here, as Peter said, was a chance to make sure they would not. And yet he had made a truce with these same savages.
“Mistress Joan,” he observed, “the boatswain here has a mind to rid us of the Easterlings while they lie befuddled. What say you? ”