The Bridge at Redwater Gorge
Ullin saw the opening of the cave, a yellow blot against the hill, and hesitated. Suddenly, he turned and walked toward town, feeling the need for further solitude before facing sleep, and time to gather his composure before facing his companions. Before facing her. His shame was unabated, but he strove against it, reminding himself over and over of his duty. The town was quiet by now, and he passed through it unnoticed, his pace easy but determined, though he had no aim but to walk and walk. Every few turns and stretches, hot tears welled behind his eyes, sometimes trickling out as he thought of Micerea. It was her, not Esildre, that was most in his heart and in his thoughts. Micerea would want him to keep to this task, to honor his commitment to Robby and the others. Although she could know nothing of their quest, his memory of her spoke truly of her loving support. How could he have behaved so? It was a shame upon his love for her, upon the honor he wished to have before her, should he ever see her again.
"And, if I never do," he thought as he stumbled and nearly fell due to blurred vision, "I will at least be true to my duty, as she would expect of me."
By following the ways and paths, he circled around the far side of town, and before he knew it, he was on his way back the way he had come. By the time he returned to the cave, it had been hours since he had left the pool, and he knew dawn was not far off. He needed rest and strode on toward the opening, hoping everyone was asleep. But at the entrance were Esildre's two traveling companions, standing watch. He returned their expressionless nods as he passed, and, as he entered, he saw Esildre and Sheila sitting on blankets at the far side of the Foyer near a low-burning lamp, chatting softly with each other. He quickly determined to act as if nothing had happened, and they looked up in mid-laugh and watched him fairly slink to his bedroll. They may as well have been staring at a chipmunk for all their bemused faces told him. Sheila's eyes glittered from across the room, but Esildre wore her veil. Without speaking, Ullin unrolled his bedding and settled down near Ibin and Billy and Robby, all drowsing peacefully.
• • •
"I wonder what's gotten into him?" Sheila commented. "He looks as though he's tried unsuccessfully to wash away the wine, too. Did your bath help?"
"Yes, I believe so. And now I am warm and dry again, thank you," Esildre replied, eyeing Sheila curiously, noting again the similarity of their appearance.
"Some have made comments about the two of us," she said. "About how we resemble each other."
"I know," replied Sheila. "But they are silly."
"Do you think so?"
"Don't you?"
"We could be related," Esildre suggested.
"I don't see how."
"The bloodlines of Men and Elifaen are mixed from the time Men first came to these shores. All offspring of this mixing are not Elifaen, yet many are connected to the Faere race from times and ancestors that are forgotten. Or purposefully lost to memory. Take Ullin Saheed. He is not Elifaen, though his father was. His cousin, Robby, however, is Elifaen. Or, that is, he will be once he is Scathed, for his mother is Elifaen."
"My mother was not, though," said Sheila bluntly.
"How do you know?"
"Because I was told that my parents both died of yellow plague when I was tiny."
"Yes, only Men are susceptible to it. But you survived."
"Besides," Sheila continued, "I do not think my mother had the Elifaen sign. On her back. At least, I do not recall it."
"Still. She may not have gone through the change as those born of Men-sires must. Or, perhaps, a distant relation of ours," Esildre trailed off in thought.
"When does the change come?" Sheila glanced at Robby's sleeping form across the Foyer in the shadows beyond their nearby lamp.
"None can say of those born of Men-sires. For each it is different. For those others born of both Elifaen mother and Elifaen father, the change comes within the womb, upon conception. But not for those like Robby, whose father was not Elifaen. Often the child of such a union does not survive birth. Sometime after birth, the change comes. Usually while they are still very young, but sometimes, rarely, it comes after the body has already matured into adulthood. And, sometimes, the change does not come until old age, even until the throes of death. When the change does come, Robby will cease to age in the eyes of Men. But when might it come? I cannot say."
"What will happen to him when it does come? How long does it take, once it begins?"
"It will be like a storm. A trial for him. It will come suddenly, perhaps fired by some spark of passion or some crisis. Or, it may come during a time of peace. One that I know of had it happen while she slept. She went to her chamber of one race and emerged at sunrise of another race. It will be painful. It always seems so for males. I have known some who, after the change, were so weakened of spirit that they wasted away to nothing, though their bodies had been strong. Others, whose bodies were weak and frail beforehand became as strong as their spirit and afterwards became mighty warriors or enchantresses without equal. Ullin's father was one such, I have heard. Truly, few men were as strong or as handsome as he, it is said, nor as brave and bold in battle. Yet, so it was told, Lord Tallin was a sickly child."
Esildre looked at Sheila.
"He will need his friends about him. Even though he may see them as strangers and desire to shun all company and endure his pain in solitude. But my heart tells me he may need protection during that vulnerable time."
"Protection," Sheila repeated to herself. They sat in silence for a few moments before she spoke again.
"How long is an Elifaen child carried in the womb before birth? That is, children born of both Elifaen mother and father?"
"They grow fast. No more than four months. From the beginning of one season to the coming of the next," Esildre told her. "You have the look of something explained."
Sheila shook her head. "No. Just curious."
Again, silence fell between them. Earlier, when Sheila returned to the cave and found Esildre still drying from her bath, she hesitated to approach. It seemed to Sheila that the aspect of Esildre's manner had changed since just a short while before. As Sheila sat nearby and loosened her blouse, she watched Esildre, staring into the empty passageway, as one might stare into a fire. She absently ran her hand across her shoulders and down her arms, as if wiping away dripping water. And—was it just Sheila's imagination?—or did Esildre seemed less distant, as it were, vulnerable? Girlish, even. When Sheila got up and approached her, Esildre's demeanor instantly changed. Esildre smiled and patted the blanket beside her, and so Sheila sat. They had been chatting for a while, about nothing in particular, until Ullin's arrival. Now they felt a strange attraction for each other, a closeness and a cautiousness. While they did not fully trust each other, they felt such kinship that nearly anything could be said. Now, while Esildre remained contemplative, Sheila grew more agitated, more restless.
"There are always signs that one is Elifaen, even well before the change. Sometimes, the signs are known only to a few, and sometimes the signs are not seen for what they are."
"What kind of signs?"
"In the stars, perhaps. In nature, or in the person. And in those Elifaen of mixed unions, the power of each race is multiplied by the blending. Some special ability is not unusual, some skill, difficult to control or direct. Sometimes a sort of sight or way of knowing the world. Like the Melnari. Like Collandoth, who is neither Man nor Elifaen. Sometimes the Elifaen has power over others, through their voice or words. Some, it is said, may even shift their shape from the likeness of one person to another, as easily as casting off one robe and putting on another. Some may even take the form of an animal or even a plant. But most, it seems, have abilities that are more subtle, less apparent."
Esildre smiled. "Now you are wondering if I possess any such power. Yes, I do. But I will not say what it may be, for he who boasts his power the gods so take it away. I think you know more of these things than you let on, and by your questions you feign ignorance greater than you have. You need not protest; that is your affair. I only warn you to be cautious. Such things are easily lost or mishandled. Like a beautiful vine, if obsessed over or ignored, it will spread throughout the garden of your spirit, choking out all else. One must pay attention to it, but pay it not too much attention!"
"You give me too much credit," said Sheila, thinking about her conversation at Tallinvale with Lyrium.
"Do I?"
"Yes. Where do you go from here? Have you decided?" Sheila changed the topic abruptly. Esildre sighed, understanding that the conversation was at an end.
"I go to Janhaven, I think," she answered, sensing Sheila's sudden distance. Rising, she said, "You should sleep, as your companions do."
"I shall do so. And you? You must be tired from your journey and all of this evening's celebrations."
"Perhaps, later. I go for another walk. To think more on today's events."
Esildre turned to go and stopped, looking at Ullin's prone form in the shadows. He was asleep, now, though he tossed about uncomfortably. She moved to the cave opening.
"Are you a witch?" Sheila blurted out. "As some say of you?"
A breeze puffed into the cave, stirring Esildre's hair. Without turning, she answered in a light voice, "No more and no less than you, Shevalia."
Sheila watched her step out into the night and disappear.
• • •
The following morning, Ashlord urged everyone up, and they made ready to depart. The Elders, most having made their goodbyes the night before, sent representatives to bring them breakfast and to see them off. Many of the townspeople came, too, including Eldwyna and all her family, including her grandfather, Eldwin. It was a hearty gathering, full of joyful talk, well-wishing, and more questions, too, for each of Robby's company pertaining to all the matters they had already discussed and more. They went back and forth in little groups to the Treasure Room to give the travelers a last gaze upon the splendors there. Robby, busy chatting with so many of the kind folk, was the last to make the walk through the passage to the Room, and Eldwin accompanied him. The turns of the passageway had the strange quality of quickly closing off the room from the noise of the Foyer, and as the two walked through the opened gates and thoughtfully looked over the wondrous jewel-encrusted goblets, the same mood of reverence overcame them. It was as if by touching these things they touched the past, great and magnificent, deep and mysterious. Even the helmets, black steel with threads of silver coursing over their surfaces, seemed not so much utensils of war as pieces of art.
"Ye may trust that I will do all that I can," said Eldwin to Robby, "to protect this treasure an' to see that we do as Ullin Saheed directed us."
"I know you will, Eldwin. Though I had no idea there would be any conditions placed upon you, I have every confidence that you and your people will do what is right."
"Thank ye, sir."
"In fact, you have done admirably well, these past days. I think anyone would say so. I regret the rough handling I gave you when we first met, and I now release you from any obligations to my service, to do as you, yourself, may see fit."
"Thank ye. But I would rather not give up me newfound loyalty. What I mean to say, sir, is that I will consider meself yer friend, if ye would have me as one, an', if I may ever be, yer servant. It is all that I have to give in gratitude for what ye've done for me family an' me people. Even though ye will soon part from us, I shall do as I think ye would have me do."
"That goes for me, too," spoke Millithorpe from behind them.
Surprised, Robby turned and saw the sincerity of Eldwin reflected on Millithorpe's face. His heart was gladdened by their words and their earnestness, yet he suddenly felt a strange weight of obligation, a sense of responsibility, as if these were his own family or his own people. Somewhat embarrassed, he saw Ashlord standing just beyond, emerging from the shadows of the passageway, coming to tell him they were ready to depart. From Ashlord's smile, Robby knew he had overheard the last exchange.
"You do me too much honor," Robby said. "I'm afraid that I am only starting to learn my way."
"Then we are no different," Millithorpe said. "At least when it comes to that. In a manner of speaking, that is."
Robby nodded and smiled, and they left the Treasure Room.
"Then perhaps these will help you," Robby reached into his shoulder bag and pulled out several folded packets and gave them to Eldwin. "These are maps. I doubt if I'll find much use for them from here on out. But they will show you the way eastward, toward Tallinvale. Study them. Make copies."
"Thank ye. Study them we shall."
Eldwin suddenly stopped and turned to Robby.
"Oh, sir! I almost forgot to ask. If we are able to go to the aid of Tallinvale, who shall we say sent us?"
They stopped, looking at one another, and Robby considered the question. Before he could answer, Ashlord spoke.
"Tell your people to say this, and no more: You serve the King."
"The King?"
"Yes."
"But," Eldwin looked from Ashlord to Robby and back, "shall I give the name of the King?"
"How can you?" Ashlord smiled. "For none knows his name. Let it be a mystery to all but your own people, but share not our names with any until the time is come for you to use them, among trusted people. Then it will be safe for you to do so. You will know when."
Eldwin's face went white, then reddened as he nodded in silent understanding of the authority with which Robby declared the Treasure returned to its heir, and of the danger Robby and his companions faced.
"My Lords," Eldwin bowed. "I will not ask where it is ye go. But, pray, do not forget us."
Robby took his hand and said, "We shall not forget you. And, should fortune favor our quest, we shall not neglect your people."
• • •
Instead of popping over to the Toll Road, they chose to ride through town, led by the group of Elders on foot. Robby and Esildre rode first, with Esildre's great-nephews following, then Ibin leading the packhorses and the others behind them. The people of Nowhere lined the streets and ways, cheering to them and calling out good wishes as they passed by. Never had Robby felt so honored, though he did, in fact, feel some pride—something like the day he so proudly rode out to Boskland on Anerath in his new armor and colors. Today, however, the feeling was more genuine, full of care, true, but his heart was lifted by their gestures. They took the winding way that led back up the steep hills, encountering more groups of well-wishers at switchbacks and lined along overhanging banks until at last they made the Toll Road. There, Esildre and her companions turned to go eastward.
"May you find what it is you seek, Robby Ribbon," called Esildre to him as she turned. "And may you all!"
"Fare thee well, Esildre. May we meet again, someday," he said back to her.
"Well may we! And well we may!"
Robby's party watched the three Elifaen disappear eastward around a bend, then they turned to go westward toward the bridge at Redwater Gorge. As they neared the junction where the Toll Road met the road running along the east side of the gorge, the Elders turned away, some to take their leave back to Nowhere town and others, Eldwin among them, to watch from the same place he and Ullin had viewed the bridge the day before. They popped away, one by one, Eldwin waiting the longest. At last, he waved and smiled, saying, "Good luck an' fare ye well!" His words seemed to linger and dissipate as did the glow of his departure.
Robby's group moved on, and Ullin loosened his sword and pushed his cloak away from the hilt. Robby did likewise, and put his hand on Swyncraff about his waist just as the last bend was turned. The roads joined and the gorge yawned open and the narrow bridge with its towering columns loomed before them. He had never seen such a gorge before, much less one so stark. It was wide and deep, so deep that when he looked down to the distant stream far below, he became somewhat dizzy and gripped his reins more tightly. Twisting around in his saddle, he saw the others behind him were equally impressed with the gorge and the graceful bridge ahead. They could not yet see its supporting spans, and it seemed to float across the chasm, longer and higher than the one at Passdale by four or five times, but just as narrow. Still, in spite of its size, it was a tiny work compared to the gulf it spanned.
"How deep is this place?" Robby asked.
"Oh, I'd say about three or four furlongs along here," said Ashlord over his shoulder. "This is the deepest part of the gorge. And the narrowest."
Ahead, two guards emerged from their shack and scrambled to the gate, trying to put on their helmets and pull down the gate at the same time. They were grizzled and dirty, in unkempt array, dull-looking and crude, Robby thought. As the company neared the two, Robby could see similar activity on the far side of the bridge.
" 'Ewe gaws thar!" called the grubbier of the two guards.
"Six to cross," Ullin replied.
"A Kingsmun, eh? A Duin'er mun? Whut's yer busyness?"
"We have writ of passage," answered Ashlord, handing down the document Lord Tallin had prepared for them.
"From Tallinvale?" The guard eyed the document carefully, squinting up at Ashlord and then at the others. Likely, he could not read, but recognized the Tallin-Fairoak seal. While he took his time, the other guard slowly went down their line, looking at the horses and their saddles, the packs, and each rider in turn. Robby caught a whiff of hard liquor as he passed. Ibin grinned stupidly, but the guard only glared back at him and moved on. Billy, who had slung one leg up over his saddle and sat chewing a blade of grass, nodded at the guard.
"How do?" Billy greeted. The guard only grunted in return, making a show of visually inspecting the pack animals before moving on. Billy's expression changed to wariness as the man walked slowly around Sheila at the end of the line. There, he paused, then stepped around the other side, staring at her with a look of curiosity and clear vulgarity in his face.
"What's yer name, missy?" he asked as what he hoped would pass as a grin crossed between the few black teeth he still had. Just then, Billy gently tugged on his reins and his mount backed up a step or two.
"Aye! Watch out!" the guard scolded Billy. "Keep a handle on yer animal, mind ye."
Billy shrugged and smiled, backing again.
"Did ye hear what I said?" the guard said as he was bumped.
"Sorry!" shrugged Billy.
The guard up front looked around at the second, handing up the document to Ashlord.
"Well, it looks alright to me," he said. "But it's for the Capt'n to say, ain't it? Aye! Quit yer foolishness an' get this here gate up!"
The other one glared at Billy and walked back to the gate and pushed down on the counterweight to lift it. He continued to glare at them as they went by, gawking at Sheila when her turn came. Once onto the landing, Ullin, who had been watching the other side, urged those behind to keep close.
"Don't know if I trust this bridge," Billy commented, peering down past the knee-high banister into the rocky depths below.
"It's sturdy enough," Ashlord assured him. "In spite of being ill-kept."
"I don't care for the bridge, either, Billy. But it's the keepers I worry more about," Ullin said nodding toward the far side. There, a number of soldiers were gathered and began coming onto the bridge in front of a big man, obviously their captain by the way he ordered them about with violent gestures. By now, the company was onto the wooden suspension and though the heavy beams below creaked, the bridge did not sway or sag. Midway, a strong breeze blew through the gorge, and, far below, they could see several waterfalls upstream, each at least a hundred feet high by the looks of the trees around them, looking very much like a watery staircase made for giants.
"Ooo. I feel kinda sick," Billy uttered.
"Me, too," said Ullin.
"Don't look down," Sheila scolded from behind.
"Don't get sick!" Robby ordered.
Ibin, too, was clearly nervous, and he constantly looked up and down, right and left, into the surrounding abyss, and then to his companions as if for reassurance, clutching the reins of his horse with one hand and the neck of his mandolin with the other, holding the tiny thing out delicately as if for balance.
"Keep moving," Ashlord coaxed.
The men ahead divided into ranks along each side where the suspended part met the landing. Fifteen, Ullin counted, plus their captain. The helmets that some wore were crudely riveted with flat tops, and they held short lances in one hand and round bucklers in the other. Each also had a sword on a belt. Bits of rusty-brown iron strapped onto leather slabs served as their armor, and their cloaks were drab and dirty shades of green and brown and scuffed-up black. As the travelers rode between them and toward the captain, Robby thought they looked no better than the first two they had encountered.
"Halt thar! State yer name an' business!"
"Collandoth. Traveling to Duinnor."
The captain was a barrel-chested man with a puffy face and a scruffy black beard covered with flecks of meat and crumbs under long stringy hair that was too thin even to mat. He had the look of too much drink as he swaggered up to take the paper from Ashlord.
"Well," he said after a moment of study, "looks genuine enough, though I can't say as I have much trust for Tallinvale folk. An' ye lack the looks of them folk, too. Who'd ye lift this writ off of?"
"It was given by Lord Tallin's hand," Ashlord stated.
"Oh, surely! Deserters, more likely, I'd say. An' a sorry lookin' lot, at that! Comin' off the Toll Road, too. It's a wonder them pixies didn't pick ye clean. Hold on," the Damar captain stated, looking at Ullin's Post bag. "A Post Rider, eh?"
"That's right."
"Well, ye'll be comin' along with us, then. All Post Riders are t'go report to Lord Cartu, whether comin' er goin'. So, get down from thar an' give me the bag."
"I must refuse."
"Refuse, eh? What's all the commotion?" the captain was distracted by yelling coming from the other side of the bridge. "A Redvest courier?"
All turned to see the guards at the far side pointing down the road at a rider tearing for the bridge at full gallop. In his saddle cup was a lance upright, and from it flew a set of white and red ribbons.
Ashlord and Ullin exchanged a quick look, and then Ashlord turned in his saddle and said loudly to the others, "I think we had better make way for the coming rider!" And at his kick, his horse leapt forward at the Damar captain.
"What the...! Stop 'em!" he cried, stumbling aside. A quick undercut to his chin by Ashlord's stick prevented the captain from drawing his sword. Immediately, a cramped melee broke out as the others of the company urged their mounts forward. At such close quarters, the lances of the Damar were nearly useless, and they bumped into one another, trying to grab at the reins or saddle straps. Robby whipped out Swyncraff and banged some heads, and Ullin had out his short sword, parrying the inept lances. Billy took hold of one of the lances that was thrust just past his face and pushed the wielder into his companion. As he kicked away one, another soldier took his horse's bridle while yet a third took aim with his lance. Before Ibin could spur to his aid, he heard a shrill whistle go past his ear, and Billy's attacker slumped down as the arrow passed through his chest and lodged into the shoulder of another. Robby jerked his reins and kicked with his right heel, spinning his horse around sideways on the bridge, knocking two Damar over the side and another soldier underneath the hooves of a pack animal. By now, their horses were in panic. With the tightness of space, the yelling, kicking, grabbing, and confusion of orders, the beasts sought to make off the bridge of their own will. Ibin's mount bucked, then it lurched forward into the pack animals. Turning around, he saw just behind him a soldier pulling Sheila's horse by the reins, trying to force it around so that he could jab at her with his sword. The horse reared in defiance as she fumbled to notch another arrow, nearly losing her balance. Ibin, twisting hard in his saddle, reached out with his mandolin and gave the soldier a fierce knock right in the face, sending him tumbling backwards over the banister, screaming to the bottom of the gorge.
"SheilaSheila!" Ibin cried. Looking over her shoulder as she reached to regain her reins, she saw the Redvest courier charging across the bridge, his lance now leveled at her. Quickly, she notched her arrow and pulled back the string as Ibin kicked away another attacker. She took aim, trying to find her target as her mount clopped unguided from side to side. She pulled the string taut, her bow creaking, waiting for the courier to close. But the rider crouched low in his saddle, keeping his body behind the horse's head and neck, and holding the lance steady with practiced assurance.
"Dammit!" she cried, her eyes stinging, unable to take the shot she wanted, the assailant now within twenty yards. "Dammit!" she repeated, loosing her arrow to fly deep into the horse's chest, killing the poor beast instantly. It crashed head first and flipped over onto its back, crushing the rider underneath, his lance skidding along the deck past Sheila and harmlessly coming to a stop under Ibin's horse.
"Let'sgo! Let'sgo! Let'sgo!" Ibin screamed at her, but already she was kicking her stirrups and slapping her mount's flank with her bow, muttering, "Not fair!"
By now, the remaining soldiers were scrambling to get out of the way, and giving full rein to their horses' fear, the travelers quickly reached a gallop, pounding off the bridge, up the steep road, and into the forest-covered hills. They slowed down after the second hill, but kept a fast pace for several minutes. After another half-mile or so, they drew to a halt and dismounted, to rest the horses and to tend to themselves. Sheila, Ashlord, and Ullin were unscathed. Robby had some broken skin and a nasty bruise forming on his right shin where an effort to kick had gone amiss and found the side of a Damar helmet. Billy had a minor cut on his arm, and Ibin had a short gash on his thigh where a sword thrust just missed. His horse, however, was bleeding profusely from the flank just where the blade had gone in.
"Oh, no!" Ibin cried when he saw it, putting his hands on the horse's wound in an effort to staunch the bleeding, heedless of his own blood running down his leg. All were still shaking with fighting-spirit and ire, so their injuries and pain had not yet had time to gain much of their attention. Sheila pulled Ibin away to look at his wound while Ullin examined the horse. Robby took Billy's arm to examine his cut.
"We have to assume that courier was riding ahead of a larger group," Ullin said, dowsing water on the animal's wound to cleanse it and bending for a closer look. "Easy, boy. Easy. Let me have a look."
"They will not stop at the bridge," Ashlord added, taking the wounded horse's reins and stroking its neck.
"But they would not have sent a courier if they were very close behind," Ullin replied. "My guess is they are at least a half-day's ride behind us."
"It just depends on how badly they want us, don't it, though?" Billy put in, as Robby put a bandage on his arm.
"This isn't as bad as it looks," Ullin said. "But he's no good for us. He can't be ridden, and shouldn't be made to carry a load. He shouldn't move around much."
"Ye mean to leave'm?" Billy asked.
"I'm afraid if we take him along," Ullin said, going over to the packs and rummaging, "the exertion will break the stitches. His wound might fester, and he could die."
"What stitches?"
"The ones I'm about to put in. Ibin, how are you?"
"OhI'm, I'm, I'mfine,Ullin. I'mfineandIdon'tneedanystitches."
"I'll be the judge of that," Sheila said. Ibin looked at her, wide-eyed with terror. "I'm joking, Ibin. I'm sorry. I was only joking. You don't need stitches, but this will sting. Ready?"
Ibin nodded and then Sheila smeared unction from a little tin on the wound. Ibin didn't wince and only watched blankly.
Robby removed the saddle from the wounded horse and while Ashlord held the bridle and gently whispered to it, Ullin took the tin from Sheila and smeared some of its contents into the gash. Sheila finished tying off Ibin's bandage and came over to watch over Ullin's shoulder as he sewed up the horse's wound.
"You've had practice," she said.
"Alas, yes," he said. "But not too much with horses."
"Are these Damar lands?" asked Billy, looking around.
"They claim these lands, and they once had outposts on this side of the gorge. Whether those outposts are still manned, I cannot say," Ashlord shrugged. "I would think so, particularly since they prepare for war and may not wish to leave a flank unguarded. On the other hand, perhaps they do not fear any threat from the west. Still, this part of the Thunder Mountains, this side of the gorge, has always been sparsely settled. Even before the Damar."
"It does seem awfully quiet," Robby commented, remembering what Esildre had said about the place.
"Yes. Peculiar."
"But what I mean is," continued Billy, "d'ye think they're liable to chase us this far?"
"I guess that depends," said Ullin as he continued his stitching. "Like you said, on how much they want us. On the power of Toolant's influence. On how zealous the Damar commanders are. On their resources. And the captain wanted my Post bag, so they may fear that word may reach Duinnor before their plans are sprung."
"But we cannot assume," picked up Ashlord, "that the Damar merely want to stop us from reaching Duinnor with word about their treachery. After all, they must know that Lord Tallin, with his cunning and resources, would have dispatched several fast riders along different routes. No. Toolant may serve the Damar on the face of things, but he certainly uses them, just as he used the Tracians and just as he sought to use Tallinvale. I fear he serves some darker purpose."
"Maybe Lord Tallin's spies will be able to get rid of him," said Robby hopefully.
"Even so, the Damar ruler, Cartu, must now know of us. Though he may not guess our true purpose, he may see some value in capturing us. Perhaps as hostages. Toolant or no Toolant, we will not be out of the Damar reach until we cross the Missenflo and are well onto the plains beyond."
"Then let's get goin'!" cried Billy.
"What about this fellow?" Ashlord patted the neck of the wounded horse just as Ullin finished the last suture.
"We should probably let him go," Ullin suggested. "There is ample water and forage around here, and he should take it easy. We can divide the packs among us and saddle one of the packhorses for Ibin."
"But his wound will need tending," Sheila argued.
"If we take him, and if we must fly like we just did, his wound will reopen. He could die," Ullin explained. "He has a better chance on his own. Horses have good sense. He'll follow his nose and find food and water. Perhaps even a kind farmer in these parts will take him in."
Sheila nodded, giving the animal a pat. "I suppose you are right."
"We'll just have to trust in prov'dents, as me ol' man might say," added Billy.
It was not long afterwards that they had the packs redistributed and the sturdiest of the packhorses was saddled for Ibin. Ullin walked the wounded animal into the woods several yards to a clearing where there was still green forest grass for the horse to eat. There the Kingsman gently removed the bridle and coaxed the animal to stay. Robby couldn't help thinking the beast had a forlorn look in its big brown eyes as it watched them depart. But the horse did not try to follow and turned his head to the shoots growing at his feet.
Ashlord was looking at the animal when a flutter reached his ear, and, with a look of pleasant surprise, he saw Certina shooting around their party before landing on his shoulder, puffing his hair away from his ear with her wings.
"Well, hullo Certina!" Robby laughed.
"Yes, my dear! I am very happy to see you, too!" Ashlord said. He was beaming broadly, his eyes glistening with joy as he proudly looked at his companions. "Yes, yes. Of course, of course! Just let us move a bit farther down the road. We've had our adventures, too!"
Ullin grinned back at Ashlord as he climbed into his saddle, and with a nod from Ashlord, they set off.
The road wound between the mountains and was less used than any they had yet been on. In some low places, it was so overgrown that they had to go in single file, but in other places the way was wide and ancient paving stones were visible. They splashed through many shallow streams and crossed a few stone bridges that spanned narrow banks over white-churned water dashing down from the slopes and skipping noisily below them. These little streams and waterfalls, often hidden from view by the trees, could be heard from afar, their sound bouncing up and tumbling down the slopes. But those were the only sounds of the forest they heard. After several hours, the way began to climb back and forth along the broad shoulder of a ridge. The sky had become overcast, with low, brooding clouds, as they came onto a crossroads. They took the north-leading way and traveled the ridgeline for several miles until the way turned west and plunged back into the still forest. Robby and Ashlord led, with Billy just behind, towing the remaining packhorse in front of Ibin, who plucked his mandolin and let his horse follow those ahead of its own accord and good sense. Ullin had fallen back and rode beside Sheila, where the width of the way permitted.
"You did what you had to do," he said to her.
She only glanced at him, biting off a harsh remark.
"It wasn't the horse's fault that he was being made to charge me," she said.
"No. It wasn't. But what soldier is not compelled, by force or force of honor, to do the things we do?"
"I'm no soldier."
"Maybe not. But it is the way of war that servants suffer more in battle than the ones they faithfully serve. It has nothing to do with what anyone deserves in life."
"It should."
"Perhaps. Yet, I sometimes think it might be a poor place if we all got what we deserve. However that may be, if you could have prevented your own death or the death of your friends by any other means, I know you would have."
"It's just so unfair. I have killed many animals in the hunt. Never for the sport of it. And I have always given thanks to my quarry for giving their life and their sustenance to me. This is different. I killed men, back on the road from Tulith Attis, and later, when the Redvests attacked us at Passdale and along the road to Janhaven. It was clear to me, then, what I had to do, and I did it. Just as it was clear to me that I had to kill the horse. But now I hurt, inside, thinking of the waste. And not just the horse. I wonder about those men and their families. What they may have been like with their children. Things I never knew until I met Robby. Until I stayed with Ashlord and Frizella Bosk, and, later, with Robby's family. And even those you would not think of," she said, putting her hand on her pocket where she kept the small volume of poetry from Mr. Broadweed, "they have kind hearts, too."
They rode along silently for a few minutes, Ibin's strings and the clopping of the hooves oddly soothing in the otherwise silent wood.
"We cannot always do what we desire," Ullin said.
"And I suppose we do not always desire to do what we must," Sheila responded. "How trite that sounds!"
"Yet true," he said, looking at her. She looked back at him and her expression softened, and was reflected in Ullin's own.
Meanwhile, Certina grew more annoyed with Ashlord, until at last he relented and let her perch on his hand to relate her message from Raynor. While she did so, Ashlord let his horse follow Robby's so that he could keep his eyes upon hers. Raynor's message was brief:
Time rushes in upon itself, my friend. Surely what we thought would not happen for another age now comes to pass. There are many signs, from you and elsewhere. Ready yourself! If you can, go to your mountain to gather your faith and grow your strength. Here, there is much confusion, and the people are restless and worried. The courtiers vie for power, and the army is in disorder and is divided among the Houses. Truly this attack in the east is timed for this season of disharmony, for I have little hope that Duinnor will send aid before spring. I will speak to those that still trust me and who I still trust. Be quick! This kingdom falters, and all with it!
Of the other matter. Can it be true? Surely our enemies, too, suspect that it is so. Be safe! Be quick!
That was all that Raynor said, but it was enough, Ashlord's message had gotten through, and Raynor would do what he could. Certina had more to tell, in her way, but he needed some time to consider Raynor's words. What other signs did Raynor see?
Certina was not happy, though, with Ashlord's desire to meditate on Raynor's message. Impatient, she fluttered constantly around him, begging for his attention until he gently scolded her to leave him to his thoughts for just a while. She flew off in a huff, landing on the head of Ibin's horse, then off again, only to land on Billy's head. He froze in his saddle, rolling his eyes up to try to see the bird, not daring to say a word. After a long few moments, she flew back to Ashlord's shoulder, and Billy rubbed his head.
"Sharp-toed critter," he muttered.
She continued her agitations with a pouty air, almost as if her feelings had been hurt.
"I know, I know. It is a cruel thing to make you wait. But we have waited all our lives, have we not? And, as you have seen, much has taken place since you departed. Yes, yes," he said when she let him stroke her back, "I have been remiss. I have been anxious, too, as you, who know my heart better than any other, must surely know. Your safety was nearly all I thought of while you were gone. What would I do without you? I'd be lost. Yes, I would! I would, indeed, my dear. Now. Accept my apology, perch again on my hand, and show me that which you have so patiently waited to show me. Tell me all about the burden of your heart, my dear."
Little did he suspect what it was that she would finally show him, what made her so nervous and anxious. It made Ashlord's hairs stand on end. As he drew his horse to a halt, the rest of his companions halted, too.
"What's the trouble?" Ullin asked from the rear. Billy thumbed ahead, toward Ibin, who thumbed ahead toward Robby. Out in front, Robby gestured to Ashlord with a finger on his lips.
"He must be conversing with Certina," Sheila said, stopping her horse beside Ullin's. "I have seen him get very distracted with her."
"Me, too."
After several minutes, Certina hopped back onto Ashlord's shoulder. He sat a little longer, then, looking around as if wondering what was going on, he realized they were waiting for him.
"I apologize," he said. "I didn't mean to hold us up."
"Is everything alright?" Robby asked.
"I don't know. I mean, I suppose so. I must think about things. We may resume our travel, now."
"Very well."
It began to rain. Ibin put away his mandolin as they all pulled out their long cloaks. With the rain, the air turned much cooler, and for the first time since they left Passdale, Robby actually shivered. The steady rain filled the land with the noise of its falling, quickly swelling the streams and creating patchy mists that floated across the slopes. Some of these mists rose up to suddenly engulf the travelers only to lift away just as rapidly. They led their horses, the trail being steep and slippery, and though the rain was never heavy, it was enough to make them wet and tired long before sundown.
"We'll have a hard time making a fire tonight," Robby commented to Ashlord.
"It may be some time before we have proper shelter, Robby," he replied. "We will be able to move more quickly once out on the plain, but should most likely avoid the few towns out there."
"What is it like, out on the plain?"
"It is a vast stretch of gentle grassy hills running from Altoria northward between the western forests and these eastern mountains all the way to Nasakeeria to the north. In the winter it is a barren, snow-covered, and trackless place. In the other seasons, it is tolerable. Quite beautiful in the spring and early summer. There are towns along the trading roads that run through it, but they are notorious for their strange practices and criminal ways. Havens for rogues, bandits, and renegades fleeing from every other domain. Among them are scattered honest farmers and cattlemen, and a few towns not governed by outlaws. For the most part, it is a place that is left alone to its own fate."
"Does Duinnor not exert its will over those lands?"
"They are in no realm, properly speaking, though the territory was once recognized as belonging partly to Masurthia and partly to Altoria and partly to the Eastlands. Most settlements manage to pay small tributes to Duinnor. Enough to placate the ire of fair-minded ministers but not so little as to warrant action against them for forgetfulness. They do not molest the Post Riders or any who are well-armed or of importance in the other realms. It is the lone traveler who must be wary."
"But now that war is coming, what will these people do?"
"They will no doubt throw in with whichever side may benefit them the most and threaten them the least. One town may go with Tracia, while the next village a few leagues away may join with Duinnor, and the next with the Damar. Who can say? To the north, the Galinot warlord surely seeks to strengthen his position against the Damar. And as for the Damar, they have long looked upon Tallinvale with envy. It is likely their attention will be directed that way. The Galinots may cast their lot in with Glareth, if it comes to that, for if the Damar take Tallinvale, their lands will fall next."
"An' once we cross the plain," Billy asked, "what then?"
"We go west, then north to Minion Gap, then through the hills and back south to Vanara."
"Sounds like a long way."
"It is likely we will trudge through snow before we reach Vanara," Ashlord nodded. "It is at least three hundred leagues away, and more, depending on the way we take on the other side of the plains. So perhaps five or six weeks of swift travel."
"Why will it take us so long?" asked Robby. "Ullin, didn't you say it only took a month or so for you to come to Passdale from Duinnor?"
"Yes. But I was alone, on swift Anerath, and we took little rest. Also, I came the nearest way from Duinnor, down across the northern plains and then through the high gaps of the Carthanes. It was summertime, and there was little snow. I encountered few obstacles, and I traveled openly, unmolested by bandits or the Galinots, who still respect the King's riders. But the snows on Loringard Pass come early and deep, and that way is now closed, as I have told you before. This way that we go is much longer and through disputed and unsettled lands. And, also, there are six of us."
"And if we go to find Griferis," Ashlord pointed out, "so much the longer it may take us to reach Duinnor."
Robby wondered if having so many along was a mistake. It began for him a long and deep consideration of their mission, his own role in it, and the risk they all were taking for him.
"We are in this together," Ashlord said after several minutes, as if knowing Robby's thoughts. "Each of us has a stake in this quest. As does the whole world. Just as surely as there are those who rely upon our failure and who seek to stop us. Particularly, to stop you, Robby."
The road, not much more than a path, took them on so many turns and bends and climbs and descents that Robby had little sense of which way they were actually going. The light, subdued probably even on the brightest days by the flanks of the mountains, was even dimmer through the rainy clouds, and it was growing darker. Robby reckoned it was getting on toward evening when they came along a place where the way skirted under a long rocky overhang, at the back of which was a shallow cave.
"Ashlord!" Ullin called. "This may be as good a place as we'll have to rest tonight."
Ashlord came back and looked at the place Ullin indicated.
"It is right against the road."
"I grant you that, but it looks fairly dry. If we squeeze against the wall we may not get too wet. No room for a fire, though."
The others gathered around to look at the place, no more than a little shelf of mossy rock, not even high enough to stand under, but about seven or eight feet deep and about twelve wide, forming an almost insubstantial grotto. But it was out of the rain.
"With this rain, and nightfall, I doubt if the Damar will move very fast, anyway."
"Very well," Ashlord conceded. "But we must be off at first light."
It did not take long for the group to see to the horses and to make a cozy fit of themselves and their blankets under the outcrop. They had dried beef and hard bread to eat, with plenty of water, and as they leaned against the back wall and chewed, they said little. The daylight was soon gone altogether, and they were amazed to find that the moss that grew over their heads on the underside of the rock gave off an eerie blue-green glow. It was a very soft light, but enough for them to make out each other's shapes in the gloom. Ashlord, particularly, was interested in the stuff and said it had been many years since he had seen Peller's Carpet, as he knew it to be called. He gathered some and put it in his pouch as Certina watched.
"It is a kind of lichen," he said. "There was once a forest garden near Vanara, on the other side of the river Stayborn, where the paths were all covered with this. It was soft and silent to walk upon, and did not seem to mind the wear. Not that many people ever trod there. It was a moon garden where everything bloomed at night. You remember that place, don't you, Certina?"
Robby could see only a dark outline of Ashlord, though he was right beside him, and was fascinated not only by Ashlord's tale, but also of the gentle love in his voice when he addressed Certina. He wished he could see his expression and the bird's reaction. All he heard was a little sigh. Reaching with his left hand, he found and took Sheila's. The rain eased until only the insistent dripping of the forest was heard, and the nearby trickles of water running over the ledge in front of them was reduced to only steady drops, too. But the sound was all around in the forest, near and far in the blackness beyond their shelter. Though they all knew it was only water dripping for miles around, the drops snapped into the leaves, and tapped onto the rocks, and sometimes gurgled away down the path in an uncanny manner, often sounding like footsteps or even the sound of a distant hoof. It was, to say the least, not very restful, but neither their discomfort nor their fear ever got the best of them.
"I do believe I liked the last cave we stayed in much better than this'un," Billy said from the far end of their shelter. "Not as—yawn!—damp."
"Don't complain," Ullin said. "This might be the last roof over your head for a long time to come."
"Oh, I ain't complainin'. Just makin' a note, so to say."
"Ah."
Sheila moved closer to Robby, and he put his arm around her. She moved closer to his ear and whispered, "I wish we could be alone."
On the other side of her, Ullin sat, like Robby, with his back against the wall.
"How is your leg, Ibin?" he asked. Next to him, Ibin stirred, and Ullin realized that he had spoken to Ibin just as he was dropping off to sleep.
"Myleg?"
"Yes. Are you in much pain?"
"OhyoumeanwhereIgotcut?"
"Yes."
"No, no, noitdoesn'thurtverymuchanymore."
"That's good."
"Yeah, uhuh, yeahthat'sgood."
"You haven't said anything about Certina's trip, Ashlord," Robby said as the older man settled next to his right side.
"She has given me a lot to think about," he said. "And I have not had the chance to ponder it through, much less speak about it."
Robby nodded in the darkness.
"But I am relieved that she is back with us," Ashlord went on. "I'm afraid it was pretty hard on her. Wasn't it, my little lady?"
Robby thought he heard a low whistle but could not be sure with the noise of all the dripping.
"She carried my message to another of my order, one called Raynor. If you ever are in Duinnor and need help, go to him. He is trustworthy and as knowledgeable as I about how things are. Look for him at house Number Three, on Crescent Avenue, where he has his apartment. He is a bookseller and sometimes a tutor, so it would not be unusual for him to receive visitors. Remember, Raynor, bookseller, Number Three, Crescent Avenue."
"Crescent Avenue," Robby repeated. "Raynor."
"He is out of favor in Duinnor, so be discreet. And if you meet him, be patient. He may seem rather odd. Do not cross him, whatever you do."
"I won't!"
"He tells me that there is much discord in Duinnor. And the people are concerned and fearful. I will not burden you with all that Raynor told me, but suffice it to say that the government is in shambles with various men of power contending with one another for their share. I fear that Duinnor is in turmoil and is edging toward anarchy and ruin. Only some great and overwhelming change, some power to control those who plot ruin, can save the Realm. I need not tell you that, without Duinnor's aid, Tracia and the Dragonkind armies will be unchecked. I have sent news of the events in Barley and in Tallinvale to Raynor, and he will know who to tell and how to tell it. I have also sent word to him of you, Robby, and where we intend to go."
Robby suddenly became very uncomfortable as he did whenever he contemplated his fate and the expectations upon him.
"But there is more to Certina's tale than all that," Ashlord went on. "On her way back to us, she was attacked. By a black eagle."
"An eagle?"
"A black eagle. They are the minions of Shatuum, and they travel far and wide to report whatever they see."
"But she escaped. And she's alright, isn't she?"
"She is well. But she didn't exactly escape. She was set free."
"I don't understand."
"I don't either, but here is what I know. She was pursued from Duinnor over the plains. She is strong and swift, and not without wit, but no match for such beasts that stalked her. She made for Nasakeeria, and it was there, exhausted, that the black bird overcame her. Just as it was about to strike her, it was itself struck down by an arrow from Nasakeeria. Exhausted, Certina fell to the ground, unharmed but helpless for a time. At this point, her tale grows confused and difficult for even me to understand. She says, in her way, that one of her captors, a woman, spoke to her in an ancient language. But she does not remember what was said. She was fed and rested for a whole day, kept inside the cottage of the hunter who killed the black eagle. Besides the hunter and the woman she spoke with, many others she saw, and there were many comings and goings at the cottage of those wishing to see Certina. But Certina struggles to tell me, and can only show me in bits and pieces, which is not her usual way. She repeats over and over that they are desert people."
"Dragonkind? There are Dragonkind in Nasakeeria?"
"Yes. And no. She knows Dragonkind, but these people are different. Yet their manner of speech sounds like that of Dragonkind, except that it is an very old way of speaking, not like the Dragonkind that she knows of."
"What does that mean?"
"I don't know. I don't think she does, either. She does not herself understand. It agitates her greatly. It is too much for her. But whoever they were, they saved her from the black eagle, and they took care of her, permitting her food and rest. There was one in particular that she keeps mentioning, in her way, showing her to me, but it is a strange vision. A woman. This woman, who is perhaps a sorceress, was the one who spoke with Certina. She and her companion, the hunter who felled the black eagle, were very tender toward Certina. The woman sang to Certina and put her to sleep. It was a deep and restful sleep, much needed. When Certina awoke, she was released."
"Nasakeeria," Robby whispered, as if even speaking the name of the place would evoke some mortal event. "I thought none who entered there could depart alive."
"So did I," shrugged Ashlord. "I have seen the bones surrounding that land, and it is not an inviting sight. But here is a fearful thought, an anxiety that will not leave me: I'm afraid Certina may have unwittingly given up her messages. While she was asleep."
"So you think they know? About me?"
"I veiled my message enough so that I could be sure that only Raynor could understand the full import. Still, if Certina was enchanted, coaxed to reveal her true nature and the messages she carried, Nasakeeria may know something of our quest and even something about where we are."
"Do you think Certina was followed from Nasakeeria?"
"Perhaps. But they need not follow her to know she was bound for this region. And if, along with that, they picked up enough to know that we head west, they can easily surmise our track."
"What should we do? Change our course?"
"I do not think that would be wise. It will be difficult enough as it is, and we may well be forced aside by any number of obstacles that we cannot foresee. No. We should continue on as planned. But we should be ever the more cautious."
Robby shook his head.
"I have the strangest feeling, nearly all the time these days, that all of this is happening around me, not to me. That I have no control and am being swept along like some kind of leaf in the wind. Part of me is calm, but another part of me is in a kind of deep panic, not knowing what to do or how to do it."
Robby and Ashlord were so close that they were brushing shoulders, and he knew that Ashlord was listening carefully to him.
"It's like being a baby, left to mind the store all on my own. People coming and going, asking for things that I don't know about. Wanting things from the store, but I don't know where the right shelf is, or else I'm too small to reach it, or how to count the money or make the books right. I feel something akin to what Millithorpe must have felt when he was put in charge of the Hoard those years ago."
"You will know what to do when the time comes," Ashlord said soothingly.
"How do you know?"
"I have faith. Do you think your abilities are limited only to what can be seen with the eyes or felt with the hands? No, the gifts you possess go beyond the opening of trick boxes and doors and the picking of locks with ease. Those are only the crudest signs of your power. Perhaps with age and experience you will come to a fuller understanding of what I mean. Queen Serith Ellyn and her brother Thurdun understood, and that is why they made a gift of Swyncraff to you. Others understand, too, as Lyrium does, for power such as yours may take many roads. And sometimes the refusal of power is the wisest way to gain it. It is as you did when you refused the ring and the sword that Lyrium offered."
"But I gained nothing from it."
"What you gained was freedom from those things, freedom to exert your power in other ways. And you gained Lyrium's respect and friendship, too, and even her loyalty. That ring. That sword. Such things are hard to refuse when they are craved, and the evil that may come of possessing such power is profound and subtle. Once gained, it is the rare person who may willingly shed such things."
"But I have no choice in so many of these things. I cannot undo my birth, or who my parents are, or any of these things that have happened."
"No. But you do have some choice. It is who you are. Just as the rest of us, it is made into our flesh and into our breath to have choice. Since you live now, and not in the past, you have no choice but to accept the past. But bear in mind that every moment of the past was, at some prior time, the future. It is like a fabric, being ever worked upon the loom, and each of us is a thread in that fabric. Those of us alive are still being woven into it, until our coil runs out. All is connected. The choices you make not only affect your own self as well as those around you, but also the texture and the shape of the fabric itself."
"Time," Robby sighed. "Another thing I haven't enough of. I do not know how to become King. And, even if I did, I do not know how to rule. We go to Griferis, if we find it, so that I might learn quickly. But will there be time, once there, to change the things that need changing before spring comes?"
"No doubt you will be tested, Robby. Tempted and tried. It has already begun. That is why we go to Griferis. If you survive, you will know what to do. If you do not, or if you fail in this quest, many other things will fail, too, and the warp of time will set a new pattern nonetheless. I see no other way but to try. But it is not up to me."
"No. I know. It is my choice."