Silvermay

by James Moloney

  As he spoke, he stood up quickly to confront Miston. This gave me time to sweep Lucien into my arms and slide backwards off the log, ready to flee.

  ‘There’s no need to run, Silvermay,’ he called to me over Ryall’s shoulder. ‘I don’t have the stomach to kill an innocent child, even if there were a way. He’s Wyrdborn, remember, and not easy to kill.’

  ‘What will you do then?’ Ryall said. ‘Hand him over to the first patrol you find on the road? I’m sure Chatiny will find a way to kill him. Well, not while there’s breath in my body.’ And he advanced on Miston, determined to throttle him with his bare hands.

  ‘Hold!’ cried Miston. He’d taken a step backwards to stay clear of Ryall’s grasp, but at the same time a dagger had appeared in his hand with remarkable speed. ‘Don’t mistake me for a lumbering grey-hair. I might spend my days among books, but I was a young blade like you once and I can still hold my own in a fight.’

  I didn’t doubt it, watching the way he balanced his weight evenly, ready to move to left or right with equal speed.

  ‘Leave him, Ryall,’ I cautioned.

  ‘I want to know what he’s going to do,’ Ryall replied, without taking his eyes from Miston. When no response came from the man, he pressed him. ‘Well, are you still at the king’s command?’

  ‘It’s not just the king who has reason to fear the little boy,’ Miston said. ‘You’ve been to Nan Tocha, you’ve seen the devastation his powers could bring to Athlane. Hundreds will die, thousands will suffer. Is it such a crime to take one life when all those others will be just as innocent?’

  It was the same conclusion Tamlyn and I had come to; the one that had seen me hold a blanket over Lucien’s face.

  ‘He doesn’t have to die,’ I said. ‘There’s another way.’

  ‘So you’ve told me. Journey to a fabled land and hope the rest of the story is more than a myth, as well.’

  ‘It’s no myth. You’ve seen the square of dried skin in my pocket. I promised Nerigold her son would live; I promised he would grow up free of his Wyrdborn birth. And I don’t care what your king has decreed — I’m going to do it.’

  ‘We’re going to do it,’ said Ryall with equal force.

  ‘And if you succeed, the boy’s life is saved and Chatiny’s throne remains secure. It’s a noble solution,’ Miston said brightly and, to our surprise, he abandoned his wary stance and returned his dagger to its sheath. ‘It’s a pity the king can’t hear you speak of it so boldly. But you wouldn’t change his mind, I’m afraid, no matter how eloquent your tongues. Kings strike down their enemies first and worry about justice and mercy afterwards. If they didn’t, they wouldn’t hold on to their crowns for long. So tell me, how do you plan to reach Erebis Felan?’

  Ryall looked over his shoulder towards me, uncertain of how to answer. Did I know any better? There was no harm in telling Miston what he had surely guessed anyway.

  ‘By ship,’ I said.

  He nodded. ‘You can’t possibly get a ship from the larger ports now, not with the king’s men on the lookout, as well as Coyle and Tamlyn and who knows how many other Wyrdborn who’ve got wind of the story.’

  I might have worked this out for myself, but then again, I might not.

  ‘Why is it any business of yours?’ I asked.

  ‘Because scholars aren’t kings. We spend our lives dreaming of justice, and mercy is not a weakness that can bring us down. So listen to me. To the north of here lies a coastline too rugged for seaports and trading ships. All you’ll find there are villages peopled by fishermen who build vessels as hardy as their shoreline. To reach Erebis Felan, your best hope is one of those craft. And, if you’ll grant me the privilege, I’d be honoured to help you find one.’

  25

  On the Road to the Sea

  That was how Miston Dessar joined the struggle to save Lucien from the horror that haunted my sleep. For many nights now, however, I’d protected myself from such nightmares with dreams inhabited by Tamlyn Strongbow. If I were to believe Miston, this girlish pleasure was lost to me now, yet I couldn’t surrender them so easily. There was simply too much about the Tamlyn I’d come to love that didn’t match Miston’s stories. Only if Tamlyn did find us would I know the truth.

  There was one definite improvement now that Master Dessar was with us. He had a horse! How else could he have travelled so quickly from Nan Tocha? It was a fine horse, too, well bred and with a coat that showed it was well cared for. Once our few possessions were gathered from around the dying fire, Miston helped me into the saddle. Lucien squealed with delight at being so high and, since his harness left my hands free for the reins, I felt like I was back home riding Father’s mare.

  The horse helped us make good time, especially when Miston suggested we use the roads.

  ‘Won’t we be seen?’ I asked.

  ‘Not by Tamlyn’s hawks,’ he replied. ‘The trees will make it hard for them to spot us from the air.’

  We found a rutted track that barely deserved to be called a road and I immediately saw what he meant about the overhanging foliage, which grew high on both sides and almost met in the middle, forming a canopy that in places became a tunnel of green. If I hadn’t had other things on my mind, I would have relaxed a little and enjoyed its tranquil beauty. At least it made a change from the winding animals’ paths and woodsmen’s trails we’d been following.

  ‘What about King Chatiny’s searchers?’ said Ryall.

  ‘The only one this far north is me, for a few days yet, anyway, and by the time more come this way, you’ll be on the high seas.’

  Miston sounded very confident about this and I feasted on his certainty. I needed to after the stomach-wrenching disappointment he’d also brought with him.

  ‘How did you find us?’ I asked him.

  ‘I told you. The king ordered everyone who’d come with him to Nan Tocha into the search for Nerigold’s baby. Since I’m known as something of a horseman, Chatiny assigned me the longest ride, to search the farms and woodland north of Ledaris. I’ve been on the move ever since.’

  ‘You were lucky to find us in the forest,’ said Ryall.

  ‘Oh, I don’t know about lucky. You two weren’t as good at staying invisible as you imagined.’ It was a deliberate challenge to Ryall, who took the bait without any more prompting.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I guessed you would avoid roads like this, so I didn’t seek out travellers at inns and crossroads. I went to a large market town and asked farmers selling their wares if they’d noticed anything unusual. Two complained about petty thefts — some turnips, a cow partly milked; things they couldn’t blame on foxes or birds. Both came from near the same village, so I hurried there and began to search the woods close by. You know the rest.’

  His story showed how resourceful he was, and that helped me believe we would make it safely to the fishing villages he spoke of.

  We had the road mostly to ourselves. A donkey cart laden with hay passed us an hour after we’d joined it, and though the farmer who tugged at the beast’s halter stared enviously at our horse, I doubt he noticed the girl who rode it or the child asleep on her back.

  Besides, he didn’t look the type to gossip with his neighbours.

  My stomach was rumbling by mid-afternoon and, since Miston had no provisions at all, we made camp early enough for Ryall to set his traps before the sun set. We would go to sleep hungry, but, with any luck, one of his traps would snare us some breakfast.

  I wished I could say it was hunger that kept me awake that night. The truth was, I struggled with the two Tamlyns who vied for possession of my mind: the one my heart still believed in and probably always would; and the other described by Miston Dessar, a callous liar who had fooled me and every other commonfolk man and woman who was of use to him. The first I loved; the other I hated so intensely it’s a wonder my hair didn’t catch on fire.

  And then the thought sent me into new agonies because Tamlyn had said to me once, when I stood silh
ouetted against the dying sun, ‘Your hair is on fire, Silvermay,’ and the same sun had caught his face and turned his skin to gold.

  These were more gems I would never share with Miston or anyone. They were the numberless things that made me cling to the Tamlyn I loved. How far away was he? If I had ever wanted the powers of a Wyrdborn, it was then, so I could use the peculiar senses that made such things known.

  One thing hung solid and unmovable in my sleepless mind: whether Tamlyn was the hero I clung to or the fiend who’d betrayed me, I longed to see him again.

  I must have slept, because I was startled awake by excited shouting. Sitting up instantly, I looked for Lucien beside me. There he was, safe and waiting patiently for me to open my eyes.

  ‘How’s my little one this morning?’ I said.

  He responded with a babble of sounds.

  ‘You’re talking to me, aren’t you? You’re telling me about your dreams and the food you hope I’m about to feed you.’

  When I tickled him gently under the chin, he smiled, showing me two teeth that had pushed their way through his gums.

  Ryall was in the middle of the camp now and making more noise than ever.

  ‘What’s all the fuss about?’ I called.

  ‘Look, look!’ He held up both hands. Dangling from each was a butcher’s stall of delights — rabbits, grouse, pheasants. ‘Every trap I set caught something,’ he boasted. ‘Never happened before. I’m a marvel of the trapper’s art!’

  ‘And a model of modesty,’ I retorted wryly and with a wink in Miston’s direction.

  I expected a smile in reply, but he must have been deep in thought because he didn’t respond. Still, he had built up the fire as though he’d anticipated our hunter’s success (or his luck) and by the time the catch was skinned, plucked and gutted, a bed of coals lay ready. We feasted.

  ‘I’ll bet the king doesn’t eat any better than this,’ said Ryall through a mouth stuffed with three kinds of meat.

  Miston held up a pheasant’s drumstick in wordless agreement.

  I was starting to like him, even though his story about Tamlyn was doing its best to split my heart in two. Despite the warm glow of a full stomach, I felt myself slipping into the misery of confusion again. Had Tamlyn tricked me from the start? Or had Miston and the other scholars misjudged him?

  No, I wouldn’t let our feast be spoiled. Whatever the answer to that question, my plan would stay the same. Get Lucien to Erebis Felan.

  ‘Ryall,’ I said, ‘if anything happened to me, you’d take care of Smiler, wouldn’t you? You would find a boat and go with him across the sea?’

  ‘Of course,’ he said without even looking up.

  He’d replied so quickly, so easily, I knew I hadn’t needed to ask. I was just reassuring myself, I suppose. I felt a little guilty talking to Ryall in a way that left Miston out so rudely. But if he cared, his face didn’t show it.

  We set out with full stomachs and enough flesh stripped from the bones of our meal to feed us again that evening. I was even able to make a paste from the liver and kidneys to feed Lucien at lunchtime. A farmer’s wife, on the road as well, took such a shine to him that she poured a cup of milk from the churn she was carrying just to watch him gulp it down. If we ate like kings, then Lucien was a little prince.

  Ryall couldn’t wait to demonstrate his skill again that evening, and as soon as we stopped he was off into the woods. He hadn’t returned by the time darkness closed in.

  ‘Probably ventured further than he planned and can’t find his way back,’ said Miston, who didn’t seem concerned.

  Lucien settled to sleep, and the rough beds we’d made from dry leaves and grass invited us to join him. There was still no sign of Ryall, though, and by then my worry was starting to reflect in Miston’s face as well.

  ‘We should look for him,’ I said.

  He stood and looked in the direction Ryall had headed off in so many hours before. ‘Would it do any good, Silvermay? In darkness like this, we might become lost ourselves. And what of the baby? Do you want to carry him around half the night when both of you should be resting? Ryall seems like a sensible young fellow to me. If he’s lost, he’ll make his own camp for the night and find us in the morning.’

  Reluctantly, I lay down. Despite my unnamed fears for Ryall, I quickly fell asleep.

  In the morning, I looked up at every forest sound, hoping to see him emerge sheepishly from the trees, proud of what his traps had snared for us but embarrassed that he’d lost his bearings. Time passed like thickened honey.

  ‘Please start searching, Master Dessar. He might have twisted an ankle or got caught in one of his own traps.’

  Ryall would be furious to hear me say that, but I was past fretting by this time and my mind was tossing up all kinds of disasters.

  Miston slid the sheathed dagger into his belt and set off to look for him. He was gone for well over an hour, and every few minutes of that wretched time I looked at the spot where he’d disappeared, desperate to see him returning with Ryall one pace behind.

  When he did return, I wished he’d never come back at all. He was alone, but he wasn’t empty-handed. He stopped a few steps short of where I was waiting and held up a little pouch that I recognised instantly.

  ‘Ryall’s flints,’ I murmured. ‘Is he all right? Why didn’t you bring him back with you?’

  ‘I’m sorry, Silvermay,’ he replied softly, coming a step closer and passing the pouch into my hand. ‘Ryall is dead.’

  ‘No! I don’t believe it. Where is he?’ And without quite knowing how I would find him, I took a few unsteady paces in the direction Miston had come from.

  He took hold of my arm as I tried to pass him. ‘I had to bury him, Silvermay. It wasn’t just what the forest animals would do to his body. The sight of him was … he didn’t die easily. Someone had found him, someone cruel and utterly ruthless.’

  ‘A Wyrdborn,’ I gasped, thinking of Theron and his room of tortures.

  ‘Not just any Wyrdborn. It was Tamlyn.’

  ‘No, no. He wouldn’t do anything like …’ A better thought rose up for me to grab hold of. ‘How could you know it was Tamlyn? Did you see him with Ryall?’

  Miston shook his head.

  ‘Then you’re just guessing.’

  Miston simply shook his head again and with such solemn confidence my stomach lurched against my ribs. ‘Ryall wasn’t quite dead when I found him, Silvermay. He told me who had done such things to him, all so he would tell where you were, you and the baby. But Ryall tricked him. He told Tamlyn that you and he had quarrelled and gone your separate ways. He managed to convince him that you had taken Lucien westward, hoping to turn back to the south after a while and seek refuge with your family. That’s the only reason we weren’t captured ourselves last night.’

  Oh, Ryall, Ryall. He’d given his life to save us.

  ‘I have to see him,’ I said.

  ‘No,’ Miston insisted, taking an even firmer grip on my arm in case I bolted into the woods. ‘He’s already in the ground and you must leave him now to the peace of the forest.’

  ‘Peace!’ I shouted in his face. ‘There’ll never be peace in my mind ever again.’

  And then I cried. Ryall hadn’t made me feel like Tamlyn did, but he’d become a courageous friend and I couldn’t believe he’d been killed so savagely. The only way I could keep from going mad was to block out the horror of what Miston had told me. To think of Ryall, picture his face, hear his voice. He couldn’t be gone so quickly and so completely.

  ‘He sat by the fire with me every night,’ I wept. ‘We talked, he told me his dreams, his secrets. Without him I could never have reached Ledaris, or escaped from it, either.’ Every memory brought more desolate sobbing. ‘I told him he was growing up and I think that made him prouder than all the animals he trapped. When we realised Theron was about to kill us, he joked about never getting any older, but it wasn’t a joke, after all. It’s not fair. He should have gone back to Nan Tocha while
he could.’

  ‘He was a young man, Silvermay. Men make their own decisions and don’t regret what comes of them. He would have stayed even if he’d known his fate, even if he’d known the terrible way he would die.’

  It was a gracious thing to say, but mention of the way he’d died brought me too close to the other images I was so desperate to ignore. Suddenly my legs gave way. If Miston hadn’t stepped in to support me, I would have flopped onto the ground where I stood. I’d known Arnou’s cousin only two days but he was all I had to comfort me. I dampened his chest with my tears until there were none left to cry. Hadn’t I done the same with Ryall only recently?

  Miston sat me down beside the dying fire. Lucien sensed the desolation I must have been giving off like a ghostly chill and began to cry. I held him and rocked and wept again. How could I hold out now against the truth of what Miston had told me? The man I had thought was fighting the evil born into his soul was the worst kind of fiend — he hid his true nature behind a cloak of love. How he must have laughed at me; how much he must have enjoyed the cruel game he played with me.

  I hated him.

  Miston took Lucien from me after a while and walked back and forth with him, like a grandfather minding his grandson. ‘We’ll stay the rest of the day here,’ he told me. ‘You’re in no state to travel. Thanks to Ryall, Tamlyn is off chasing shadows and, with any luck, the ruse will keep him off your trail until I can get you to the coast. Do you still want to sail to this faraway land?’

  ‘Yes,’ I said bitterly, because already a thought was making its way relentlessly towards me, no matter how much it seemed callous to let it come when Ryall had been gone only a few hours. Erebis Felan was a long way off and even though Ryall would never see it now, I would, if I could keep going.

  Later, by the fire, as the long day ended, I gave my only remaining companion a warning. ‘You must be careful, Master Dessar. Nerigold is dead, and so is your cousin. Now Ryall has joined them. Aren’t you afraid you’ll die as well if you stay with me?’