by Andre Norton
Duratan had remained quiet some time after he had finished speaking.
“So you came to Estcarp to seek the approval of your officers and comrades and to gain the consent of enough women to enable you to establish a viable community?”
“Even so.”
“You realize the danger you could be facing?”
The Captain had nodded grimly. “I may have come to meet my death if I am judged a renegade by all, and I shall be outcast by many of the columns, perhaps all to no avail. Even if I can gain permission to approach any of the villages, there is no guarantee I can convince a sufficient number of women to accompany me, even with the Lady Una's testimony to strengthen my cause.”
“She will not have an entirely pleasant life if you do succeed,” he had observed. “Your people will have to deal with her long-term, and some of them are not likely to tackle well to that necessity, whatever concessions they make with respect to your own.”
“As Holdlord of Ravenfield, I am the logical choice to be the Falconers’ representative with Seakeep and its people,” the mercenary had responded stiffly. “We two have at least proven that we can work together.” He had shrugged slightly. “What must be endured shall be. Neither of us can avoid the war because we fear the bite of an opponent's steel.”
He had then explained in answer to the scholar's question that he had come to Lormt in quest of weapons, for anything that might sway those he must approach in his favor. He had also hoped to discover information about the lives his people had led before their move north which could help guide him in building a new lifeway in High Hallack, one acceptable to all their number, male and female alike, but he had not been able to unearth anything of significance despite all his efforts and the untiring assistance of his hosts, not then and not since.
Duratan saw the shadow deepen on him and guessed its cause. “You and the Lady Una have not had any better success?” he asked. “I had hoped you might have learned something since you have been working with much older materials.”
“Almost none. Your people could not have done more to aid us, but Lormt has very little on my kind. Apart from the heal-lore, which is indeed worth the finding, I have discovered well nigh nothing of the nature I was seeking.”
He did not say that the one piece of data he had found had given him an ugly scare. The Talisman had been mentioned in some detail in one of the scrolls. Both Aden and Pyra must have read it, and they would have seen his gift to Una of Seakeep.
He had relaxed in the end. Any personal relationship between the Daleswoman and one of his race was so unlikely as to seem inconceivable, and he trusted that the healers would completely overlook the significance of the piece for that reason, as seemed to be the case in fact. At least, neither of them had betrayed any suspicion that Una might be more to him than an employer.
“What made you believe we might have custody of such records, Bird Warrior? You Falconers have been close about your affairs since you arrived on this continent.”
“It is understood amongst us that we had left a large cache of documents relating to the old ways here shortly after our coming, but either there is no truth in that report, or else the material has been lost or destroyed in the great expanse of years since that time.”
“It might also merely not have been rediscovered as yet.”
“I know that,” Tarlach replied with a sigh, “but we can give no more time to the search. The winter has been mild thus far, but we cannot trust that it will remain so. If we do not leave soon, we may be snowed in here until spring. By that time, most of the Commandants will be oath-bound again or long gone in search of a commission.” He shook his head. “Besides, the Holdlady cannot stay away indefinitely from her Dale, and I am responsible to my command stationed there.” If he still had a command at the end of all this.
Duratan nodded. “I knew you could not be far from that decision now that Lady Una is well. When will you be leaving?”
“In a few days, once I am certain our comrades are fit for the road.”
“You will go with our good wishes, whatever their worth. We shall continue delving our records here, and if we uncover anything of significance, I will see that word of it reaches you at Seakeep.”
The Falconer looked at him in surprise. “You would do that?”
“I am no different from most others in that I prefer to have a goal for my efforts. Your quest is a hard one, Bird Warrior. I fear it would be scarcely less difficult to restore these mountains to their former state than to accomplish what you would do, but all that can be done here to aid you, I shall do. I only wish your visit to Lormt had proven more profitable for you.”
“It has brought me a good friend, it seems. That is not a gain to be slighted.”
Bravery lay on her back, batting at Una's hand with one bandaged and three sound paws.
“You little trouble!” the woman chided. “I shall never finish dressing, much less get my hair into place if we keep this up!”
A rap caused her to glance toward the door. It was an instinctive move, but precisely the opening the cat was seeking. As Una's hair swept over her shoulder in response to the motion, Bravery grabbed for it, tangling in it with supple claws and mouth.
Tarlach's eyes were dark when he slipped into the room, but when he saw the cat, chiefly feet and wide-eyed face, peering from the flood of hair, he laughed.
The Daleswoman scowled at him as she freed herself. “You would not be so amused if it were your hair that she was pulling,” she told him tartly.
“Perhaps not,” he replied with a grin, “but she was very entertaining from here. Your expression alone would have been reward enough for my visit.”
She studied him curiously. The Falconer had carefully avoided entering her chamber until now, and she wondered what had brought him, and so early in the day.
He read her thought. “I just wanted to assure myself that you both were all right before your two guardians awoke and forced me to be more circumspect again.”
Her jade eyes shadowed. “Did Duratan not tell you that last night?”
The warrior stiffened. “You sent him to me, then, told him there was trouble on me?”
“No, I did not. He intended to visit us both. I mentioned only that our search did not go well when he inquired about it. If he read more into my answer than that, I am sorry.”
“There was more?”
“I was and am worried, Tarlach. You were like a defeated man when we parted yesterday, at least to my eyes. I do not like to see that on you, not before we have even begun to approach your columns.”
“It was not our lack of success,” he assured her quickly. “We both knew this was but a chance—”
“I realize that.” She turned from him to conceal her face. “I am ever a weight on you!”
The man came to her. “What do you mean, Una of Seakeep?”
“I have seen the way you have been watching me, as if you fear I will shatter in a moment, and you already hold yourself responsible. It is a weight no other of your race has to endure.”
“Are we the richer for that?” His hands closed on her shoulders and forced her to turn, to look at him. “It is true that we have no experience with this brand of caring, and I own I am clumsy in managing it, but I do not regret that I love you, that I cherish you even more than I desire you.”
He held her against him, and his eyes closed. “The thought of losing you is a spear through the core of my being. That we must remain apart, I can endure, but I must know for my sanity's sake that you are alive and well within this universe.”
She made him no answer save to rest against him. His lips tenderly brushed the rich chestnut hair so that he caught the fresh scent of the herbs with which she had washed it. Her body felt warm and soft, and he guessed she wore little beneath the blue chamber robe, which the healer Aden had probably lent her.
She seemed vulnerable and responsive, and she was beautiful, female and feminine both.
His mouth found
hers, but his kiss was gentle, loving only, and he reluctantly drew away from her in the next moment lest what he already felt rising in him swept him completely. It would not take long, he knew, for he wanted this woman very badly.
In that instant, he hated all that he was and all that rested on him because he could not declare openly what burned in his heart and mind. To take Una of Seakeep in any other fashion, to make of her his trollop, though no other should ever learn of it, that was not even to be considered, not while he retained any shred of honor or any control whatsoever over himself.
He stepped back, and it was with bittersweet satisfaction that he saw she shared his regret, although she, too, separated herself a little from him. It was by no accident, he realized, that she dressed and acted as she did with him, as a comrade, deemphasizing this other part of her, which could gain them nothing and would only add to their frustration and tension.
The Holdruler smiled ruefully. If there was hunger on him, on them both, at least the gloom was gone for a while.
She tossed her head, thus easing them away from the mood gripping them and the moment that had preceded it.
“I do not usually like to issue you orders, Bird Warrior,” she told him, “but I am going to do so now. We shall be leaving Lormt soon, and once we do, we—you—are not likely to be returning to these mountains again very soon. I watched you yesterday. The alteration in them lashed you, but you were intrigued by the resurgence of life. Ride them now for a few days, be alone with them, gain the assurance that one day they will again be all that you once knew, although neither of us shall see them then. I will remain here and watch over the recovery of our two comrades.”
She saw what flashed into his eyes and shook her head impatiently. “Will you ever see the dark side of a question, Tarlach of the Falconers? I am not ill or injured or weary, but I do want you to have this time.”
Una smiled again, reassuring and commanding both. “Go fly, Mountain Hawk. Act for yourself for once.” The jade eyes sparkled. “Take care, however. I do not want to winter in Lormt, whatever welcome our hosts have for us, because you have broken your leg on a pleasure jaunt!”
6
Once away from Lormt, Tarlach felt his spirits lift, and he knew Una had been right. He had needed this time to himself, to explore and observe and be free for a while from the burden of responsibility. Only the fact that Una and Storm Challenger were not here to share it with him marred his pleasure in these few days stolen from the normal press of his life.
The first he spent finishing exploring the slopes around the old structure, and he camped there that night, but with the dawn of the following morning, he turned his attention to the true heights, heights such as he had known and loved since his boyhood. The Eyrie had been situated in a location like to this as it had once been. …
Quickly banishing that thought and the shadow it cast over him, he threw his head back and breathed deeply of the cold, clear air. That, at least, had not been marred by the Witches’ spell casting.
The effects of the Turning were even more evident here than below, where milder conditions aided the reestablishment of natural life, but there was a raw magnificence about it that both moved and held him.
This was an incredibly wild region, a realm of stone whose grim aspect was rather emphasized than relieved by the hardy plants finding place there. It was a fascinating world despite or, perhaps, because of its bleakness, harsh and yet strangely compelling to one not frightened by the stark coldness of virgin rock.
The Falconer knew where he wished to begin his hunting and made for the place, the foot of the great cliff soaring up behind the softer rises supporting Lormt and the farms nestled around it. He had noted its many ledges and outcroppings from the vantage of the settlement below and had yearned in his heart to explore them. Now he had the opportunity, and he was resolved not to squander a moment of it.
Tarlach went as far as he could on horseback and then dismounted in a small natural meadow near the place where he would begin his ascent of the cliff itself, dropping the reins so that Lady Gay would know she was free to feed but that she was not to wander far. There was good grass and a small, fast stream to provide water, and he knew the mare would suffer no want in his absence.
His eyes followed the rugged line of the rock upward. They glowed with anticipation. The task before him was not impossible, but it would take a mountaineer's skill to master it, and the pleasure of that testing was on him. It had been so long since he had last met its like.
The difficulty of the way increased speedily once he did begin to climb, but its hardships were ever a challenge and not a barrier, and he steadily won altitude until at last he stood on the spot he had selected as the first stage of his day's search.
His body was hard, and his breath came normally again very shortly after he had attained his goal.
The man looked about him. Only a little of the high country was actually visible to him. He had climbed far, but the crests of the surrounding mountains remained above him.
That did not matter. He had not come here to conquer peaks but to observe a little of their slopes.
Tarlach then turned to examine the forbidding miniature world into which he had entered. The winning to this vantage had in itself been a joy, a contest just strenuous enough to be stimulating at the relaxed pace at which he had tackled it, and now he felt fresh and ready for the excitement the discovery of new things always brought him.
It was not a pretty place. In truth, he could hardly have imagined a more uninviting country or a harsher one. His mind had called this a slope, but that was merely a convenient mental label, maybe even a subconscious effort to soften what was in actuality a broad ledge jutting out from an incline so steep that the inexperienced would have judged it nigh unto perpendicular.
Because this part of the mountainside had never been forested, it had always suffered heavy weathering, a fact which combined with its severe topography to prevent colonization by the ferns and grasses and rough shrubs covering those lower, gentler slopes where the trees had not yet begun to make their return in force.
The rarity of growing things made those which did exist the more fascinating. The Captain knelt beside a stunted tree, marveling at the eerie twisting of its branches and trying to estimate the depth and course its roots had taken. He did not wish to dig around it or make any other effort to answer his questions, fearing to injure an organism whose hold on life might well be as tenuous as it was enduring.
It was a survivor, this small plant. Tarlach touched a gnarled branch gently, respectfully. This had not grown here in eight short years. It must have somehow weathered the Turning, one of the few rooted things to do so, and possibly had weathered many another near disaster in the ages that it might well have seen since it first sprouted from its seed.
Softly whistling the refrain of a song well known in his company, he left it for another patch of green which had just taken his eye.
Half an hour passed most pleasantly as the Falconer wandered from place to place, his heart alive with wonder and a delight in living which he had not known in many a long day.
Even in that short time, he confirmed that the seemingly barren cliffside was, in truth, anything but sterile. Its flora existed on a reduced scale and was thus easily overlooked, but it abounded wherever there was enough shelter to permit it to take root. Everywhere he saw growth which had been familiar to him in the heights where he had spent his youth. The plants were scarce as yet, colony patches rather than a true, ever-varying carpet, but they were back, and they were thriving. These mountains would indeed eventually become again all that they once had been.
The weathering which had created so many safe pockets for seeds and spores was less helpful to a human intruder. There was a good bit of loose stone and gravel on the ledge, and he had to place his feet carefully or risk a fall. That broken leg Una had mentioned could prove as disastrous as a tumble over the edge in a spot so wild and far from help.
T
arlach had expected to pass his time with the plant life of the slope or merely looking out over the vista beyond, but his attention was drawn to the cliff face itself when he squatted near a clump of moss of particular interest, since it was the first of its kind that he had encountered, and suddenly found himself shifting position in an unconscious effort to remove himself from a cool draught.
Surprised, he searched the rock wall behind him until he located a black fissure close to ground level. A moist finger confirmed that it was the source of the odd air current.
He gingerly inserted his hand but could not discover its end in the little distance the narrowness of the opening permitted him to explore.
The man rocked back on his heels, staring at the crack in amazement. Then he smiled. He had no cause for astonishment. Had Aden not mentioned that there were many caves of various sizes honeycombing all the highlands around Lormt? This was merely yet another part of that system.
He rose and stepped back to scan the cliff for sign of any further linking with the ghost-ridden underworld.
The movement was both careless and too quick. His foot turned as it came down on a stone, and he fell heavily.
Tarlach instinctively dug in his heels to brake himself although he was in no actual danger of rolling outward and off the ledge.
Suddenly, his legs jerked as the support of the ground under him vanished. The whole world seemed to be disappearing into a gaping chasm.
He clawed desperately with his hands, trying to push himself up against the flow of material, but the weakened crust gave further, and he dropped down amidst a rain of gravel and larger rocks.
The warrior did not lose consciousness immediately when he struck bottom. He was dimly aware that debris continued to fall from the broad patch of light above and dragged himself farther into the darkness, where he collapsed, overcome at last by the shock of the fall.