Antonius, still perched on Nigel’s shoulder, fluttered his feathers.
“Let me try,” he said, ready to fly. Nigel looked at him. “Is it wise? I don’t want to lose sight of you, too, especially if we’re to be here all night.”
“A bird might succeed where men fail,” said Lawrence. He turned to the parrot. “Do you think you can find your way?”
The bird smiled, parrot-fashion, parting his beak. “I’ll not get lost,” he said. “If I can’t locate camp I’ll come back here.”
“All right, then,” said Nigel with a nod. “But be careful!”
The wings opened and flapped. Within seconds Antonius had disappeared into the mist. They sat alone, eyes straining to catch sight of anything that might give them a clue as to where they were. But blackness closed in swiftly. Nigel held his head in his hands.
“I’m sorry I got you into this mess,” he said at length.
Lawrence sighed, then smiled. “I share the blame. I should have made certain we never left sight of camp.” Lawrence took out his water flask and handed it to Nigel. He took it gratefully and drank. The water was cool, refreshing. It lifted his spirits.
“Are you hungry?”
“What?” said Nigel, somewhat startled. “I am, but what can we find to eat here?”
The soldier hushed him and quietly drew his sword. Ahead, a small snake winded and curled beside a rock. Lawrence winked. And with a swift leap he brought his sword down, severing the snake’s head. Then he held up the squirming body. “Here’s our supper!” he said, delighted.
Nigel felt his stomach revolt. “Snake?” he said. “How will we cook it?”
The soldier chuckled. “We won’t!”
Nigel gulped. “You mean we’re going to eat it raw?”
Lawrence laughed deeply. “Come on, man!” he said. “We’re lost and alone! Would you rather starve?”
Nigel acknowledged that he wouldn’t. Still —
The soldier expertly dissected the meat into tiny pieces. He put a slimy chunk in his mouth and chewed. “Not bad at all!” he said, smacking his lips. Then he ate another, and handed some to Nigel.
Nigel reluctantly took a small piece and forced it down. It had a foul, sickening odor. But he soon found himself eating more, and enjoying it at that! Soon it was devoured. Lawrence swilled it down with some water, then rubbed his stomach contentedly. “I won’t say it’s the best meal I ever had, but —”
Both men looked up nervously. Something was moving in the trees. The soldier gripped his sword. Nigel stared for a moment, then broke into a wide grin. Antonius had come back!
The parrot glided down, landing between them. “What news?” asked the soldier.
“Bad news, my friends,” replied Antonius sadly. “The fog is the worst I have ever seen. To step ten paces from this place would make us lost all over again. Even from the tree-tops I could see nothing, save the darkness that encumbers us.”
“I feared as much,” said Lawrence darkly. “We’re to be here all night after all.” He reached beside his sword and handed the snake’s head to the bird. “We saved you some supper,” he said.
Antonius took it eagerly, saving the best part, the eyes, for last.
“Don’t be so troubled, friends,” he said happily, once he had finished his meal. “This night will pass, as do all others. Best to make ourselves comfortable and try to rest.”
“Things could be worse,” said Lawrence, stretching out on the grass, his head leaning against a tree. “At least we’ll share this night in each other’s company!”
Nigel began to feel more at ease. If they were confident, why should he be so glum? He leaned back and closed his eyes. Lawrence began to hum softly, then began to sing. The words were sweet and soothing.
“That is a lovely song,” said Nigel, when it was done. “Where did you learn it? Certainly not in the barracks!”
Lawrence smiled. “My betrothed taught it to me a long time ago,” he said, recalling happier days. “It’s a song about the beauty to be found among the flowers in the Gardens.”
“Ah,” said Antonius, himself lulled by it. “The Gardens of the Valley are renowned, even in the wood where I was born. Honor us by singing it once more.”
“Gladly,” said the soldier. And again he sang.
Nigel gave a deep sigh. He wondered if he would ever gaze again at the Gardens. And he recalled the many carefree hours he and Gwenn spent together strolling, hand in hand, among the flowers. If only he could be with her now!
“I didn’t know that you were to be married,” he told the soldier. “Who’s the girl?”
Lawrence’s eyes lit up like candles. His thoughts seemed far away indeed. “Her name is Leila.”
“A lovely name.”
Lawrence beamed. “And a lovely face. Like a gentle breeze in the Dell.”
“Would that I could see her,” said the parrot. “Perhaps when we go home.”
“And so you will,” Lawrence laughed. “She’ll want to know those whom I have come to love like brothers.”
Antonius was flattered. “I wish you both much happiness,” he chirped.
“I thank you, good friend,” said Lawrence sincerely. “But I fear it shall be many months before we can be wed. I am still a soldier of the Haven, and there is much soldier’s work to be done.”
Nigel leaned forward, a curious look on his face. “But when the tasks are done,” he said, “what then?”
“Then I shall leave fighting behind,” Lawrence said, the flame still strong in his eyes. “A peaceful life is all I ask. A small cottage in the Valley. A good piece of land.”
Nigel leaned back again, letting his own thoughts drift How lucky Lawrence was! To have someone waiting! He started to speak again but saw that the soldier had fallen into a gentle sleep. A soft rain began to fall. He covered him with his cloak, then covered himself. Then he, too, became drowsy. His dreams carried him home, to summer, to Gwenn.
*
The table was beautifully set, silver goblets at every place. There was wonderful food, beef and roast lamb, cabbage and turnips. Plenty of hot fresh bread and rich butter. And wine! Perhaps the best he had ever tasted! Servants stood at the sides of the table and promptly filled every request.
Nigel had put on a good show that evening, making pleasant, but not controversial, conversation and making certain that his host was pleased. It was the first time Saul had invited him to dine with his family, and he had been, needless to say, terribly nervous. But that was to be expected when one is to be a future member of the family.
Tagg sat opposite him, dressed in his new uniform. He had recently gained the rank of Captain in the Royal Guard, and wanted to be certain that his brother-in-law-to-be knew it. To his left sat Lady Angelene, Gwenn’s mother. A gracious hostess and a strikingly lovely woman, she did her best to put Nigel at his ease. Laughing and leading the conversation, she made him feel at home. Gwenn sat on his right, hardly speaking at all. Saul, stern-faced and proper, sat at the head of the table, still wary of having such a controversial Lord for a son-to-be. The burly noble eyed him carefully. Extending his invitation was a virtual acknowledgement of his daughter’s betrothal, and he was more than a little reluctant. But he would not interfere, at least if Gwenn was sure this was what she wanted.
The conversation had led in many directions, and Nigel knew he had made the right impression. Gwenn beamed proudly when he gave his views on history and philosophy. Even Lady Angelene had helped things along by keeping the topic of the forest remote from what was being discussed. In fact, even Tagg seemed eager to hear what he had to say. And knowing Tagg’s own boisterous nature, that was saying something!
At long last dinner was done and Nigel and Gwenn found themselves strolling in the garden. Roses were blooming, filling the air with a delightful fragrance. The moon was full and clear, the stars bright.
They walked hand in hand, then sat on the small wooden bench. Nigel gazed at the sky. Stars smiled at him.
; “You’d explore the heavens, too, if you could, wouldn’t you, Nigel?”
He toyed with her hair, letting the soft locks fall between his fingers. “Hmm?” he muttered, love lost and not really paying attention.
Gwenn sighed. “The stars, Nigel. The stars! You would journey to the stars!”
Nigel laughed. “Only on the swiftest steed.” He looked into her eyes. “And then only if you were with me!”
Gwenn frowned, pulling back slightly. “I’m serious, Nigel.”
He lost his smile. “If it were possible, yes, I think I would. And why not?” he asked.
“Why would you go?” she countered.
He clasped her hand and spoke gently. “Because we are what we are — men — and because man’s destiny is to discover the secrets of the universe.”
Gwenn nodded sadly, then said: “I understand.” But she really didn’t understand it at all. Her gaze met his.
“You seem sad, Gwenn. Why?”
“I am sad, yes. And I am also afraid.”
Nigel smiled broadly; he kissed her lightly on the cheek. “Afraid?” he said. “The world is a marvelous place! With a thousand wonders to be found, a thousand secrets to be uncovered.”
A bitter laugh cut him off, a mocking laugh, filled with sarcasm. “It’s not the world I fear,” she said. “It’s you.” Nigel looked at her with surprise.
“It’s what you dream,” she continued.
The surprise became hurt. He tried to hide it but his eyes betrayed him. She squeezed his hand tightly. “I don’t want to hurt you,” she told him through pained eyes. “But you must know this now, before —”
“Before we wed?”
She nodded sadly. “I don’t know if I could live with it.”
Nigel bit his lip; he felt a shiver. The night was becoming cold. “Live with what?” he said. “I don’t understand any of this, Gwenn. Say what you mean.”
“Your plans, your dreams, your whole perception of things! You’re so willing, even eager, to endanger your life. It frightens me! What kind of a life would it be, knowing your husband plans to run off chasing rainbows?”
He felt as though an arrow had been shot straight through his heart. “But we’ve discussed this before,” he mumbled. “We’ve talked many times about it. I thought you understood. I thought you agreed with me. I thought you believed in me!”
Gwenn turned her head to hide the tears. “Oh, Nigel! Don’t you see? I believe as you do. I want to see the forest conquered, new lands opened for the Empire. But I don’t want my husband to risk his life for it! I want my children to know they have a father who’ll always be there.”
“I see,” said Nigel glumly. “You believe in noble ambitions, as long as they don’t affect you personally.”
Gwenn tried to speak, but the words wouldn’t come.
Nigel put his arm around her. “All of us take risks. We take them every day,” he said softly.
“I won’t allow you to make me a widow!”
The tears flowed freely. She seemed to tremble.
“What if I were a soldier, like Tagg? What then? Wouldn’t I face death every day of my life?”
“Yes, you would,” she whispered. “But it would be a death defending our homes and the Valley. You want to throw your life away in the forest. You’ll never come back, Nigel. I know it. You’ll never come back and I can’t live with that.”
He fought back tears of his own. “What would you have me do?” Gwenn wiped her eyes; she tried to smile. “Give up these dreams, or at least let someone else carry them out.”
His heart sank. He loved her deeply, she knew that. But she was asking more than he could give. He could lie to her, he knew, make promises he would never intend to keep, but that was not his way. Their marriage must be based on trust as well as love, or there could be no marriage at all. He was what he was. Call him a dreamer, call him a fool.
“I can’t make that promise, Gwenn,” he said at length. “You know I can’t.”
She covered his lips with her fingers. “I love you, Nigel.”
He hung his head, aware of what she was going to say.
“I love you, yet I can’t live with the dangers. Stay home, here in the Valley. We can live full rich lives.” Stay beside me, her eyes pleaded.
“Don’t ask me that,” he said, dejectedly. “I won’t lie to you. If the day ever comes when the Council is convinced, I’ll go. I have to. And in my heart I’ll take you with me.”
*
A drop of water rolled down a leaf and splashed unevenly across his face. Nigel awoke with a start. The rain had stopped; the night was still. At his side Lawrence lay snoring peacefully, his cloak askew on the earth. Antonius also was asleep. Nigel covered the bird and stood up. He looked to the sky. There was a thin break in the mist and a wind was beginning to blow. Excitedly he was about to wake the others to tell them they would be found in the morning after all. Then he thought better of it, deciding to let them sleep.
The air was very cold. He rubbed his hands together and wrinkled his toes. Dawn was still hours away, he knew. But how peaceful the forest seems — calm, hardly threatening at all, at least not when you’ve been so long in it! He kneeled down and reached for the water flask. There was a sudden beat of wings above his head. He glanced up. Something sharp slashed across his forehead, knocked him off balance, and sent him sprawling. “What the —?” Something warm ran down his face. Blood!
There was a rustle from the leaves. A black form lunged at him. He rolled over instinctively. Sharp talons missed his scalp by inches. Nigel pulled out his dagger and lashed at it. The form weaved out of the way, fleeing into the black, but not before Nigel could see what it was. He jumped to his feet. “Wake up!” he shouted. “Night-Birds are upon us!”
Lawrence bounded up, grabbed his sword, and let the sheath fall. Antonius flew to Nigel’s shoulder, claws at the ready.
A bat flashed darkly above Lawrence’s head. With quick reflexes Lawrence swung. The blade whistled by, harmlessly. “Quick! Stand beside me!” said the soldier. Nigel ran to his side; he crouched low, moving the dagger from hand to hand. They looked to the trees and saw nothing. “How long before dawn?” asked Lawrence.
“Several hours at least,” replied the parrot. The soldier grimaced. “Much evil can be done in that time,” he said. “But we’ve got to make it!”
They stood breathlessly; beads of sweat ran down their faces.
“Are you badly hurt?”
Nigel wiped away the blood and shook his head. “Just a scratch.” There was a flurry of beating wings. Antonius drew his claws. “They come again!” he cried.
Three bats swooped down from above. Nigel’s dagger slashed at them; Lawrence’s broadsword whistled. The bats dodged and darted. One screamed — a high-pitched wail — and fell clumsily to the ground. The others fled.
The men panted, staring at the fallen creature. “How vile it is,” muttered Nigel. Its eyes were small and slanted, with blazing crimson pupils that stared hideously. Lawrence sunk his sword deep into its heart. The bat shuddered. Three-inch fangs, thin as matchsticks, sharp as needles, hung from its gasping mouth. It moved its wings. “It still lives!” moaned the soldier. Antonius shook his head. “It’s in the throes of death. It can no longer spill its poison.”
The bat made one final move, then slumped dead.
“So we have finally come face to face with our enemy,” said Nigel, his lips trembling. The soldier looked at him, speechless. They realized what an array of these things might do, once unleashed on the Valley.
Another bat swept low. Antonius flew at it. They grappled in the air. The men watched as the parrot dug deeply into the bat’s eyes. The bat gave an unearthly screech and flew blindly into the shadows. A second bat flew low, then lunged at Lawrence. The soldier gave a mighty war-cry and brandished his weapon. The Night-Bird fled. “Coward!” he shouted, shaking a fist at the retreating enemy. “Come back and fight!”
“Save your breath,” said Anton
ius, returning to Nigel’s shoulder. “I fear they are only testing us, appraising our strength. They are new at fighting men. They are trying to study our methods.”
“Then the true clash has yet to start,” said Lawrence, wiping the blood from his sword. Nigel gave a low gasp as he pointed to a large tree in front. The others stared glumly. Ten bats hung from the branches, watching their every move. Some hung upside down, others stood right side up, flexed their talons and hissed.
“What are they doing?” asked Nigel.
“Preparing to attack,” answered the parrot. “But be careful! These may only be a decoy to draw our attention. The main attack most likely will come from another direction.”
“Then we must protect our flanks!” said Lawrence. He turned and stood behind Nigel. Back to back they waited.
The bats began to stir. “Here they come!” called Nigel. Suddenly they were everywhere. Nigel’s dagger flashed and lunged. Bats wailed and shrieked. Antonius flew into the fray. Right and left his claws stung, causing havoc. Lawrence heaved his sword. Bats’ blood gushed across his tunic.
“Aiii!”
Nigel swung about. Lawrence rolled his eyes in terror. A bat clung to the back of his neck. He dropped his sword and pulled at it, but the creature hung on, its fangs deeply embedded into the soft flesh. Nigel plunged his dagger again and again into it. Finally the fangs loosened and the bat tumbled to the earth. Then Lawrence fell. As he did another bat leaped on the soldier, biting into his throat. “The eyes!” screamed Antonius. “Stab at its eyes!”
The blade pierced into the sockets. The bat gave a horrible wail and tried to fly off. Nigel picked up the fallen broadsword and swung with all of his might. The bat was cut into two. The others fled into the night
Lawrence clenched his teeth and moaned softly. Nigel kneeled beside him. He tried not to wince. Lawrence’s neck turned purple and black before his eyes. Blood smeared onto his arms as he cradled the soldier’s head.
“I’m going to die,” said the soldier, his eyes glazed. And in his face Nigel saw a terror that only a Night-Bird could cause. A terror far worse than that instilled by any dog.
Lawrence began to shiver. Already the venom in his veins was taking hold. There was no hope for him. His body was wracked with fever and pain.
The Haven Page 18