“You heard it, too?” he asked.
“Yes. It came from over there.”
They crossed the clearing and began running towards the southern edge of the forest. There was no path here, but they knew the forest so well that in spite of that and the dim light they could move through it almost as quickly as one of the deer.
Reaching the edge of the forest, they paused and looked out over the heath. Some distance off, near the foot of a low hill, three large and shaggy dogs moved back and forth with their noses to the ground. Suddenly one of them picked up the scent that they had lost and, barking, came on again towards the forest with the other two following.
“They’re tracking something,” said Ivo. “I wonder what.”
“Me,” said a voice near them.
Turning, they saw Ronno sitting under a hawthorn. Two chickens lay on the ground near him.
“You’ve been raiding one of the farms again,” said Neva.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Lura will be having her cubs soon, and it’s hard for her to hunt. So I have to do it for both of us.”
“But you have the rest of the forest to hunt in,” said Ivo.
“I know. And I did. But I’ve had bad luck for two days now.”
The dogs were only a short distance away now, barking more and more excitedly. Though he knew there was no reason to be concerned, Ivo raised his staff. Then, when they were only a few feet from the edge of the forest, the dogs stopped, drawing back with the short hairs on the back of their necks bristling, not in anger, but in fear. They remained there for a moment, whining deep in their throats. There was a shrill, distant whistle, and looking up, Ivo and Neva saw a man standing on top of the hill. It was hard to see him clearly in that light and at that distance, but he seemed to be wearing a smock and carrying a spear. He came no nearer but whistled again and the dogs turned and ran back towards him, clearly happy to go.
Peering after them, Ivo moved forward until he was stopped by the invisible barrier that surrounded their part of the forest. But though it held him back, this time it seeemd to yield a little.
“You know,” he said to Neva, “I think if I really tried, I could go out there.”
“But you mustn’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because we’re not supposed to.” Then turning to Ronno, “You’ve got to be more careful. What would Lura do if you were caught?”
“There’s not much chance of that,” he said offhandedly.
“Well, you might be. If the hunting’s been bad in the rest of the forest, isn’t there any other place you could try?”
“There are some farms on the other side of the forest—to the north. But they’re farther away.”
“You’re getting lazy,” said Neva severely.
“No, I’m not. It’s just harder to get there and back before dawn. But I think I’ll keep away from that particular farm for a while.” And picking up the chickens, he went off towards his den.
Jartan was up and baking oat cakes for their breakfast when they returned to the hut. He shook his head when they told him about Ronno.
“Why were the dogs afraid?” asked Ivo.
“Because of the spell that’s been put on this part of the forest.”
“Who put the spell on it? Mistress Silvia?”
“Yes.”
“If they weren’t afraid, could they have come in?” asked Neva.
“No. No one can come in who doesn’t belong here.”
“Is it possible that the spell isn’t quite as strong as it was?” asked Ivo.
“Why do you ask?”
“Because the magic circle or whatever it is seemed to give a little when I pressed against it.”
“I don’t think it’s gotten weaker. I think you’ve gotten stronger.”
“Strong enough so that if I wanted to get out I could?”
“Why don’t you ask Mistress Silvia that?”
“I will,” said Ivo.
Jartan served the oat cakes and was thoughtful as they ate.
“Have you seen Greymane lately?” he asked finally.
“We see him almost every day,” said Neva. “But we haven’t had a riding lesson in some time.”
“I think you should start having them again,” said Jartan.
That was all he would say. But since, like Mistress Silvia, he never said anything without good reason, that afternoon they went to the large clearing where Greymane was grazing.
“Greetings, Greymane,” said Ivo. “Jartan thought we should have some more riding lessons.”
“Oh, he did?” said Greymane. “Well, I don’t feel like it. It’s too hot.”
Ivo was about to argue with him when Neva caught his eye and shook her head. So he remained silent, and the two of them sat down at the edge of the clearing.
“What are you waiting for?” asked Greymane.
“We’re not waiting for anything,” said Neva. “We just thought we’d visit with you for a while.”
“Don’t try and fool me,” said the grey charger. “You think if you stay here and talk politely to me I’ll change my mind. But I won’t.”
“Very well,” said Neva. “We’ll try you again some other time.” And she got up.
“Wait,” said Greymane. “You both did fairly well at your last lesson, but you still have a lot to learn. And if I don’t teach you who will? So … All right, Neva. You first.”
He came over to her and stood quietly while she mounted and then began circling the clearing, first walking, then trotting and finally cantering.
“Not bad,” he said, stopping in the shade of a chestnut tree. “You have a good seat. Of course I don’t know what your hands are like.”
“Hands?”
“If you do any riding outside—and that must be why Jartan sent you here—it won’t be like this. Your horse will have a saddle on him, and there’ll be a bit in his mouth with reins to control him.”
“What are they?” asked Ivo.
Greymane told them, and they both looked horrified.
“But that’s awful!” said Neva. “Especially the bit. Why does anyone need them? Can’t you just talk to the horse and tell him what you want him to do and where to go?”
“Horses can’t talk outside the forest,” said Greymane. “No animals can. At least people can’t understand them.”
“But why?”
“That’s just the way it is. I was with Jartan for almost five years before we came here. But it was only after we got here that we were able to have a real conversation.”
“If you can only talk to people outside, I’m not sure I’d like it there,” said Neva.
“I don’t think I would either,” said Ivo. “And I still don’t see why I’d need a saddle and reins.”
“Oh, you don’t? Do you think you could stay on my back if I didn’t want you to?”
“I don’t know why not.”
“Let’s see. Get down, Neva.”
Neva slipped off his back, and Ivo mounted. Greymane started to trot across the clearing. Then suddenly he bucked, dropping his head and raising his hindquarters. Ivo went over his head and fell sprawling on the soft turf.
“Well?” said Greymane.
“You took me by surprise,” said Ivo, getting to his feet. “Can we try it again?”
“If you like.”
They tried it, not once but several times. And though each time it took him a little longer, in the end Greymane always did throw Ivo.
“I think that’s enough for today,” said the grey charger finally.
“I think so, too,” said Ivo rubbing a sore shoulder.
“You were right about it’s being too hot,” said Neva looking at the sweat that darkened Greymane’s coat. “We shouldn’t have let you do it.”
“Oh, I didn’t mind. You’re both good pupils. But from now on it might be better if we had the lessons early in the morning.”
And so, for the next week or so, Neva and Ivo we
nt to the clearing before they went to Mistress Silvia’s cave. And by the end of that time even Greymane could find little fault with them as riders. It was about then that Lura had her cubs and Greymane went with Ivo and Neva to the den under the huge beech tree to congratulate Lura and Ronno.
Neva and Ivo were leaving the hut a few days later when they again heard dogs in the distance. However this time they sounded different for they were baying rather than barking. And as they stood there listening, Jartan came out of the hut and joined them.
“Those aren’t farm dogs,” he said. “They’re hounds. Come on.”
And he ran with them through the trees to the edge of the forest. When they reached it, the hounds, some six or eight of them, were just coming over the top of the hill. But this time there were three mounted men with them, riding behind them and urging them on. And their quarry, as they had all feared, was Ronno. He was at the foot of the hill, running hard for the safety of the forest.
“That fool fox!” said Greymane coming up behind them. “Didn’t he know this might happen?”
“We warned him about it,” said Neva. “But he’s going to be all right, isn’t he, Jartan?”
“I think so,” said Jartan.
For Ronno was almost halfway to the forest and holding the distance between himself and the hounds. But now a horn sounded off to the right, and a second pack of hounds and three more mounted men appeared, coming fast along the edge of the forest from a direction that would cut Ronno off.
Seeing them, Ronno checked and turned right also, but those watching knew that it was useless for, if he could not get to the forest, he was lost.
“Oh, no!” whispered Neva. “Isn’t there anything we can do?”
“Greymane,” said Ivo, “will you take me out there?”
“Get on,” said Greymane.
“Ivo, don’t!” said Neva. “You can’t …”
But Ivo was on Greymane’s back, leaning well forward and clutching his staff, and the charger was away, through the magic barrier and out on to the heath, thundering towards Ronno. Hard pressed though he was, Ronno sensed what they were going to do, and he swerved sharply to the left and raced towards the forest again. Greymane cut in behind him and, at a word from Ivo, stopped.
Ivo leaped off his back and, staff ready, waited for the oncoming hounds. Baying, jaws wide and eyes on Ronno, they paid no attention to Ivo. Stepping forward, he swung his staff low, sweeping the legs out from under the leader. With a startled yelp the hound went down and several of those that followed fell over him. The rest, further behind, circled wide away from Ivo, pausing as he ran towards them, shouting. Then the hounds that had fallen struggled to their feet, and the pack went on again. But Ronno had been given all the time he needed. He and Greymane disappeared into the shelter of the trees while the hounds were still some distance away. When they reached the edge of the wood, Ivo saw them stop suddenly and draw back, whining, as the farm dogs had done, then he turned to face the riders who came galloping up behind them.
The first of these was a heavy-set man with a short black beard. Pulling his horse up, he glared down at Ivo.
“You knave!” he said. “How dare you interfere with a hunt?”
“I’m sorry,” said Ivo. “I don’t think I hurt any of your hounds, but …”
Before he could finish, the bearded man slashed down at him with his whip. Sliding his hands apart, Ivo raised his staff in a horizontal parry and the lash wrapped around it. But the knot at the tip flicked his cheek, drawing blood. Angered at this but even more at the man’s manner, Ivo jerked down hard on the staff and pulled the man out of the saddle. He landed heavily and lay there for a moment, half stunned.
Now the other hounds and huntsmen reached them. One of these was a slim young man about Ivo’s age. He wore a light green tunic with a silver belt.
“Are you hurt, Rendel?” he asked.
“No,” said the bearded man, getting to his feet. “No …” And drawing his sword he cut at Ivo.
Again Ivo threw up his staff and warded off the blow.
“Rendel, don’t!” said the young man.
“I’ll kill him!” said the bearded man, his face dark with rage, and he cut at Ivo a second and a third time. Though the blows came swiftly and savagely, they were so much slower than Jartan’s that Ivo had no difficulty in parrying them. Then he struck in return, bringing his staff down on the man’s hand and knocking his sword to the ground.
The man stepped back with a gasp, clutching his bruised knuckles.
“Seize him!” he ordered.
Leaping from their saddles, two of the huntsmen fell on Ivo, bearing him to the ground and holding him.
“That’s enough, Rendel!” said the young man sharply.
“When he not only attacked the hounds but also attacked me?”
“Only after you had attacked him.” He turned to Ivo. “Who are you?”
“Ivo.”
“Where do you come from?”
“There,” said Ivo, nodding towards the forest.
“He’s lying!” said Rendel. “No one lives there. He comes from Brunn.”
“Do you?” asked the young man.
“I don’t even know where Brunn is.”
“How can anyone not know that?” said Rendel. “I told you he’s lying. He’s a spy from Brunn, and we must take him back to Lantar with us.”
“Must?” said the young man, frowning.
“The king will be very angry if we don’t. He’ll want to question him.”
The young man looked at him and then at Ivo.
“Very well,” he said. “Tie his hands.”
One of the huntsmen took off his belt, tied Ivo’s wrists with it and helped him to his feet.
“I’ll take him,” said the young man, holding out his hand.
“Yes, Your Highness,” said the huntsman, and he gave him the end of the belt.
“Ride ahead,” said the young man. “We’ll follow.”
Somewhat reluctantly, Rendel mounted. The huntsmen whistled to the hounds and they moved off slowly.
“Do you really live in the forest?” asked the young man.
“Yes,” said Ivo.
“Why did you beat off the hounds?”
“I couldn’t let them catch Ronno.”
“Ronno?”
“The fox. I’ve known him since he was a cub.”
“You’re a strange young man. But also brave and skilful. Rendel is a very good swordsman. I never would have believed anyone could best him with a quarterstaff.”
Ivo shrugged.
“I don’t think you’re from Brunn, and I think Rendel was wrong to attack you. If I let you go, could you get to the forest before the others got back here?”
Ivo measured the distance to the forest with his eye, then glanced at Rendel and the huntsmen. They were some distance ahead of them.
“Yes,” he said.
“Hold up your hands, and I’ll loosen the knot.”
“What is your name?” asked Ivo as he did so.
“Liall.”
“The huntsman called you Highness.”
“The king is my uncle.”
“Then you’re a prince.”
“Yes,” said Liall. He glanced ahead. The hounds had picked up another scent, probably a rabbit, and Rendel and the other huntsmen were busy calling them off.
“Go,” he said, pulling the belt from Ivo’s wrists.
“Thanks,” said Ivo. Then he was off, running for the forest. When he was thirty or forty yards from it, he heard shouts and looking back saw that Rendel and the huntsmen were galloping after him. Liall, much closer, had not moved. He was sitting on his horse, watching him. Ivo went on, reached the edge of the forest—and found he could not enter it!
The invisible barrier that had kept him in before was now keeping him out. He hurled himself against it, but while it yielded he could not get through it. Then,
“Ivo, here!” said an urgent voice.
He turn
ed. Neva was standing a few yards to his right. She was outside the line of trees, but one arm was still inside as if she were holding open a door. He ran to her. She took his hand and drew him inside. He glanced back. Liall was moving now. He had set his horse cantering towards the forest, and his eyes, fixed on the place where Neva had been standing, were wide with astonishment and admiration.
Chapter 3
“I still don’t understand why Jartan wouldn’t tell us,” said Neva.
“Tell us what?” asked Ivo.
“Why the people of Andor hate Brunn so much.”
“But he did. He said that they were at war. That they had been for years.”
“But why? People don’t fight with one another for no reason.”
“Perhaps he didn’t know.”
“Of course he knows.”
“Why do you say that?”
“I just think he does. He didn’t say he didn’t know. He just said we should ask Mistress Silvia.”
“That’s true.”
It was the day after the incident with the huntsmen, and they were on their way to the cave. Ronno had been waiting just inside the forest with Jartan, and once Ivo was safe, had thanked him for what he had done. They had stood there for a while watching Liall and the others blundering around just outside the line of trees, trying to get into the forest and puzzled and angry because they couldn’t. Then Neva and Ivo had gone to the cave and found that Mistress Silvia wasn’t there. A squirrel who lived in one of the oak trees near the cave told them that Stekka the stag had hurt his leg and she had gone to tend him so they left. That evening they talked a good deal more about what had happened, and Jartan told them several things he had never told them before. For instance, they now knew that Brunn was the country that lay north of the forest and that the country to the south was called Andor.
“Then you agree that there’s something strange about it?” asked Neva.
The Shattered Stone Page 2