Keldron's easy smile soon put her at ease. “It's like I am a brother to these people.”
Joleen shrugged. “No surprise. As you become more influenced by the song of the forest, you do not worry about those things. Besides, the entire tribe knew that ones such as the three of you would eventually come. It was just a matter of time. They are really in awe of you, but it is not the way of my people to show such deference without due cause.”
“I don't see why they should be so in awe of us,” Keldron answered flatly as they started up the narrow path. “We didn't do anything special. As you well know we just came seeking answers. We may have found them, and so much more, but that was coincidence.”
“So you think all of this is coincidence?” Joleen said, a mild skin of what sounded like incredulity, bordering on insult, covering the smooth tone of her voice. “This may seem like coincidence to you, but it has been predicted and eagerly awaited by my people. They haven't moved from this area of forest for generations. This is the biggest event some of them will ever see. To see what is out there; to bring the reality to the tales we have been told. To touch our dreams; to grab them and never let go.”
Keldron realised he had chosen the wrong words as he listened to Joleen speak, and quickly began to regret his flat tone with her. He also realised that what he had always taken for granted was a mere wish for these people. They had not wandered down a busy market street, with the smells of fish from the port mixing with the tanneries and sweet smells of the herb traders. He suddenly wished he could show her dawn from the window in his study – so she could see the first rays of the sun materialise over lake Eskebeth, lighting up the surface like a molten fire that couldn't be quenched by any other than the Gods themselves. He found he had paused in the ascent, and was looking out through a gap in the trees. Not far up, he could already see the near symmetry of the bowl that one might have missed from ground level.
“Impressive, isn't it?” Joleen said quietly.
Keldron just stared. Eventually, he turned to her. “Joleen, I'm sorry for being so presumptuous. When I see something like this I realise there is so much I have not seen. There are countless numbers of places I would also have you see, though I doubt their beauty compares with this. Your people must be excited beyond measure.”
“So you do understand. Good. You are not the block-headed oxen that I thought you were.” Joleen passed him, and continued the ascent.
Keldron did not have much chance to view the bowl shaped valley floor as they continued climbing, for it got incredibly steep. More than a couple of times he wished he had stayed down the valley with everybody else, but the chance to see what was at the top was too irresistible to him. Since he had spent so much of his time cooped up studying the fables surrounding the Night of Spears he now found that he wanted to drink in any vista. Much like the people of the tribe he was excited to wander and seek out new places. He wondered if the need to explore was so strong in these people that it affected him too.
About two thirds of the way up the cliff, the path levelled out to a small platform. Here, a few were resting, though most looked like they could walk forever. Keldron turned, anticipating the view of the valley, and was met by a dense covering of trees. “I never saw all those trees from down there.”
“The enchantment. It is focussed so strong that even we cannot see the valley below.” Joleen stared, as if trying to see past the focus that Keldron could almost sense, but not quite. “We are used to it. We know the valley floor is there, but the comfort of the trees never leaves us thanks to the enchantment. Do not worry. You can see the valley from the top, if you know where to look.”
“I thought you said the focus at the top was strongest there,” Keldron replied, wishing quietly to himself that he had worn stouter boots than the soft-skinned city boots he wore now.
“Like I said,” Joleen replied, the mysterious air that so captivated him surrounding her, “If you know where to look.”
They resumed climbing, and although it got even steeper, there were chains that had been wrapped around posts to help them up.
“You must have a good sense of balance to carry goods all the way up and down this.” Keldron gasped as he pulled himself to the top of yet another link of chains.
“You get used to it. Even you might be able to cope once you get fit enough and lost that wizard's flab.” Keldron barely paused to check himself over. He was too busy climbing.
At length they reached a level path that wound slowly through the trees. They followed this for some time. At one point, Joleen stopped. “Keldron, take one step forward and then turn and look at me.” Keldron did as he was asked, and turned, only to find himself face to face with the trunk of an immense oak. As he peered back at it for any sign of life, a ghostly voice wafted through the air. “This is the enchantment at its strongest.” The wraith version of Joleen's voice explained. “Here it not only masks out presence, but it also alters the sounds we make so as to make us seem far away.” Abruptly, Joleen walked straight out from the centre of the tree. “Only our people know of this. Were any to come wandering in here, they would surely learn a most fatal lesson. That is why we make sure that even those who mean us no ill intent do not stray.
“What do you mean, a fatal lesson?”
“Come see, but be very careful.” Joleen took Keldron's hand and walked off down the path that was ahead of them. After about two-dozen steps, Joleen stopped. “Lean forward, but do not take more than a half step, or you will suffer, and we don't want that.”
Very cautiously, Keldron leant forward. As he did so, the air around him rippled, and he was suddenly faced with a vision of the forest's landscape. He jerked back, to find Joleen holding on to him for dear life.
“I said take no more than a half step! You nearly went then.” “Is that the forest?”
“Yes. Now look again, and don't be the fool your mother thought you were.” Keldron leaned ever so slightly, and the air rippled again. Moving only his eyes, he took in the panorama; the forest stretched as far as the eye could see, much further than he could ever remember travelling. As he looked down, he was gifted with the view of the valley floor. The symmetrical shape of the bowl looked as though the hands of the Gods had crafted it. The people below were not visible individually, but the valley floor spoke of the urgency of movement. They brought a fluid sort of life to the great stillness of the forest. It almost seemed to Keldron as if they were the blood of the forest from this distance. He looked out beyond to see the pale sky. It was a subtle yet complementing colour to the lush green of the forest. As he contemplated the colours of the sight before him, Keldron was suddenly tugged back.
Presented with the vision of the forest track in front of him, Keldron turned to see a rather impatient-looking Joleen staring at him. “I thought you were never coming back from there.”
“It is a wonderful view, and well worth the climb.”
“I'm glad you appreciated it. Let's go see the camp, and then get back down.” Walking back along the path, Keldron tried to imagine the strength necessary to maintain a focus that deceived the mind with so much success. He found himself thinking about the forest instead. The fall of leaves in the autumn, and the sense of companionship shared by trees; the light touch of a songbird settling on a twig and the joy at the growth of a new seedling. The power that touched them must be immense indeed. “We have all shared that faraway look at one time in our lives, usually when we were children.”
Keldron looked up to realise that they had wandered into a camp of people, and turned back the way they had come, only to see that he didn't recognise any of the track. “Blast this confusticated forest. When will it be content with clouding my mind?”
Joleen shrugged. “It depends how guarded the mind. For some, only a day. For others, a lot longer. Do not worry though, I will see you safe.” Joleen smiled, and instantly, Keldron forgot about all his problems.
“So this is the merchants' view of your camp is it?” He looke
d around at what seemed to be a small town built into the forest.
“This is mostly the merchants' doing,” Joleen explained as she pointed out the various wooden buildings. “We are more than happy to trade simply, but they have always needed their comforts. That is why you were so easy to spot; you didn't travel like proper merchants.”
“What do you mean we didn't travel properly? We disguised ourselves perfectly.
Joleen sighed patiently, as if she were teaching a child. “You lacked pomposity. You are a guildsman. You lack the nature to act with as much pomp as many of these overdressed canaries. You may have looked like them, but there is more to a disguise than clothes alone. Much more.”
Keldron looked about him as they walked through the woodland village. Joleen was right. All of the merchants had an air of pomposity about them that was difficult to miss. Draped in jewels and fine clothes, many of them ordered servants around, and tried to order the tribesmen, without much success. “So these merchants are from other cities?”
“Most of them. Though we have heard that the unpleasantness you are connected with is also connected to the lack of merchants out of the Lake town. The less said around these people the better, I think.”
Mixed in with the merchants were many armed men, some carrying an entire arsenal on weapons belts. “Is it usual for there to be so many armed men in this place?”
Joleen frowned, as she tended to do when considering his questions. “It is unusual, though many tend to stop and carry on the next day. A lot are mercenaries escorting the caravans but many of these have been loitering for days. Let's go to the tavern and see if we can pick the brain of an old friend.” Making her way quickly through the growing throng of people in the middle of the village, Joleen led Keldron through a maze of shacks until they reached a larger building, situated a ways back from the town.
“Be careful in here, Keldron,” Joleen warned him in a voice a shade louder than a whisper. “There are many who are friends, but beware most anybody. This tavern is not set back from the rest of the village by coincidence. They stepped through the door, and Keldron instantly felt a wave of emotion. This tavern was a boiling pot for hate and distrust, and the look on her face showed Joleen understood that well too. She ducked her head, her golden hair suddenly covered by the hood she wore.
* * *
Hurrying without glancing up, Joleen scurried to the bar, leaving Keldron to look around the place. Most of the occupants were too preoccupied with their wooden cups of ale to worry about yet another newcomer, but Keldron felt more than one set of eyes on him nonetheless. Grasping his focus stone for reassurance, he moved much more slowly towards the bar, trying to seek out the eyes on him. Something was not right here. As he walked, he noticed that too many of the ale cups were still full, barely touched in some cases. The men kept their heads down, but his training in the art of the focus told him that they were much more alert than men in a place such as this should be.
He moved cautiously down the central aisle, avoiding any possible encounter with the men, who were all heavily armed. Reaching Joleen's side in the corner of the dim room furthest from the rest of the people, he leaned in close. “Is there somewhere quiet we can talk?” Keldron murmured out the side of one mouth, all the while keeping a wary eye out for whomever it was that was tracking him. The oppressive air of menace about the place seemed to grow with every second, as if it were to materialise in the form of some dreadful being.
“Behind you is a door, go through it when I do,” Joleen replied, sounding frightened to death now she too had realised they had walked right into a hornet's nest.
Looking carefully still at the apparent quiet, Keldron moved when he felt Joleen edge away from the bar. Turning his back on these people was one of the hardest things he had ever had to do as his sense of the air around him was clouded. He walked slowly through the door, shutting it firmly. In the corridor beyond, he hastened to catch up with Joleen, who was ready to bolt like a startled deer. Through one more door, and they found themselves outside. A huge bear of a man was there to greet them.
“Well, little sunflower, aren't you going to make the introductions?”
Joleen breathed a partial sigh of relief. “Malcolm, this is Keldron, formerly of the Law guild of Eskenberg. Keldron, please say hello to Malcolm Alemaster, an honorary member of the tribe and landlord of the Woodcutters' Rest.”
Keldron looked up at the brute of a man. He seemed the perfect type to take care of any problems in such a place as this. His jerkin was straining at the seams with muscles bursting everywhere, and his face, framed by dark, close-cropped hair and matching beard, gave him an air of menace to say the least. So it was Keldron who was in for the shock when Malcolm greeted him in a voice that would have suited an adolescent better.
“Greetings, Keldron, welcome to the Woodcutters,” Malcolm said warmly in his semi-pipsqueak voice. “Any friend of the little sunflower is a friend of mine.”
Keldron shook the hand proffered towards him; callused and scarred, evidence of much combat, the hand was nearly twice as large as his own, and the grip as strong as expected. “Glad to know you, Malcolm. What's going on in there?”
“Couldn't tell you,” The barkeep replied. “It's been like that the last few days. For weeks hardly anybody but the drunks come in, and now it's full. But the Gods be blasted if I'm making more money out of this lot than I was out of a few measly drunks. That lot sit over their cups all day and night, as if they are waiting for something. Every second of the day, I feel as if the tension is going to crack and they are going to erupt. If they would do just that then it would be something, but instead they try to maintain the guise of drinking mercenaries. It is a poor disguise.”
“Too true,” agreed Keldron. “I saw from Joleen that she knew something was up, but I felt more than one set of eyes upon me, though I couldn't see from where.”
“That's easy to answer,” Malcolm replied with a shrug of his bunched shoulders. “There are a couple of men who sit near the door, their hoods all pulled up and such. They give the evil eye to anybody who enters the place. They have been spooking my regular customers for weeks, hence the reason I was reduced to serving drunks and soldiers, who won't drink. They aren't actively causing harm, and the Law says I cannot ban them for actively doing nothing, though I know exactly what you mean.”
Keldron kept a wary eye around the place as they spoke. It seemed secluded back amongst the trees. The forest was almost comforting, but Keldron still had the feeling something wasn't quite right. Joleen and Malcolm spoke of little things – how his wife was doing, and what the plans for the tribe were. As he listened with the occasional nod, he became more detached, focussing beyond the trees around them. As he drifted, he sensed movement. Keldron found that he could track it though he didn't know how. The movement was all around them – close to the village, and further back in much greater quantity. As soon as Keldron realised this, he almost jumped in alarm. Realising that both Joleen and Malcolm had stopped talking, and were now staring at him, he slowly raised his finger to his mouth and put it across his lips. Beckoning them to lean into him, he whispered as quietly as he could. “This place is surrounded. The village, and further back as well.”
Malcolm reacted first, bolting for the door. Joleen tried to grab him. “Malcolm!” she whispered as loud as she dared, “Where are you going?”
He paused for a second as he opened the door. “To look after my lady and girls. I will bolt the door. If there is trouble, you can escape through the trees. Nobody will follow you through here. I can promise that.” Then with speed enough to betray someone with the agility of an alley cat, Malcolm was gone.
The door bolted firmly behind them, Joleen and Keldron stood in the dank shade of the dense copse of trees. They would have felt totally alone, were it not for Keldron's warning. Joleen cupped her hand and put it to his ear to speak. “How do you know there are people out there?”
Keldron did the same, almost tingling with
feeling being so close to Joleen. “I am making a great many assumptions, but I feel the forest. It told me there were people out there, and it told me of their intent. Joleen we need to get out of here. We need to get out of here now.” As if to emphasise his point, the sounds of shouting suddenly erupted from the other side of the tavern. Only briefly behind was the noise emanating from the village, and all around them in the forest.
The thuds of running feet almost made the ground come alive with the vibration. People were all around them, and yet in this small enclave, they were left alone. The thuds and shouts soon mingled with the metallic ring of sword on sword, as whoever it was reached the village. All Keldron and Joleen could do was stand in terror and wait as a full battle unfolded around them. They may as well have been blind for all the good the trees were doing to obscure their sight. It was as if they had been purposefully ignored.
The rushing cacophony of footfalls slowed as more and more of the attackers reached the village centre, and still Joleen and Keldron waited. He edged closer to the trees, afraid that his movement might be seen. As he peered through the dense foliage, Keldron felt a wave of nothing less than pure evil wash over him from the other side of the trees. He had no time to panic. The overpowering emotion was one he had never felt. He dropped to his knees in instant defeat, awaiting the terror to reach through the trees and grab him. Yet as soon as it had come, the emotion drained away; whatever it was that had passed by had obviously not noticed him and moved on.
The Focus Stone (The Tome of Law Book 1) Page 24