Shepherd Read Online Free Page B

not to mind the chill. They braced against the current, their footing sure beneath it.
    There were splashes on either side as the frustrated crocs milled. They dared not touch the sheep, even here in the croc's home territory.
    In the center there was a swifter surge of water that swept Python sideways, up against Shep. “I've got you, fella,” Shep said, bracing for them both. Even one day ago he could hardly have imagined colliding with such a serpent and not being horrified.
    In a moment Python recovered and slid forward, her head weaving from side to side as she swam. She spied the far bank within range and accelerated toward it. She was clearly a decent swimmer, but these swift cold water currents were no more appealing to her than they were to Shep.
    The river became shallower as they approached the far bank. At last they were out of it. Shep was violently shivering. Then he looked at Elf, who was perhaps half his mass and more of whose body had been immersed, and saw she was worse off than he was. Her whole body was blue with cold and her teeth were chattering, yet she was not complaining.
    “Oh, Elen!” he said, and swept her into his embrace. He was cold, but far warmer than she. Then the sheep crowded close, not out of discomfort but to provide warmth for the humans. Gratefully, Shep and Elen lay down between them, soaking in the warmth of their woolly bodies. Python remained with them; she was cold bodied, but needed warmth to avoid becoming torpid. Only Vulture had escaped untouched.
    Gradually they all warmed. “Probably we'll dry and heat faster if we are moving,” Shep said. “Now that the edge is off. Thank you, sheep.”
    The sheep moved clear, and Shep and Elen quickly dried, away from their wet wool. The two of them got into their clothes, though hers was only her voluminous cloak. Then the party moved forward again.
    “You held me with no thought of using me,” Elen said as they walked.
    “True. I couldn't stand to see you suffering like that.”
    “Thank you.”
    “You knew how bad it would be for you, yet you walked right on in.”
    “A girl does what she has to do. We had to cross.”
    “I could have carried you across,” he said, belatedly realizing. “So you never got wet.”
    She shrugged. “Maybe next time. There will be challenges enough ahead. Soon.”
    She wasn't fooling. Soon they came to a wide strip of what looked like desert. Here the sun bore down on black sand, and it was burning. Too fiery to stand on for any length of time. Shep was amazed at how cold the stream had been, and how hot this sand was, when the two were not far apart. But of course this was not Earth; different natural laws governed. “We'll have to wait until night,” he said. “When the sand cools.”
    “Not safe,” Elen said. “There are sandworms that come up at night, too big for the sheep to stop. We need to cross now. I had hoped there would be a cloud.”
    “I don't think now is feasible,” Shep said.
    Vulture had taken off when they came to the sand. Now she returned, squawking.
    “The worms are already stirring in the shade,” Elen said. “We don't have much time.”
    Shep considered. “Can the sheep handle the sand?”
    “Yes. Their hooves are hardened to this.”
    “I think my boots will do, if we move right along.” Shep glanced at Elen's feet. “But not your slippers. I'll carry you. But that leaves Python.”
    But Python was already crawling up on the back of a ewe, and on to a second, and a third. They were were carrying her.
    “Then let's move,” Shep said, and blew a note on his staff. The sheep moved out, three abreast, the second rank carrying Python. Obviously they had complete control of their defensive knife-bones, and did not stab anything by accident.
    Shep looked at Elen, uncertain how to carry her. “Over your shoulders,” she said. “Get down and I'll climb on.” She had already removed her cloak and put it in her knapsack.
    He squatted, and she strewed herself