The Caller

by Juliet Marillier

  At first we made good speed. This was not like crossing country in the Rush Valley, or travelling along the wooded hillsides that fringed the chain of lochs running west to east from Darkwater to Brightwater. The danger lay not in precipitous slopes and perilous bridges, or in dense forest and hard-to-find ways, but in the benign nature of the land, gentle grassy hills and valleys, small copses of birch or elder, and broad fields dotted with farm buildings. Faster to cross; much harder to do so unseen. There were long stretches with no cover beyond the dry-stone walls that marked out the fields, and those were only chest-high. Many folk were about, in the fields, coming in and out of their houses, moving stock or driving carts along the tracks. We were not the only people taking advantage of the fine weather.

  At midmorning we paused to rest atop a small hill. A cluster of hawthorns offered some concealment. Drinking water and sharing some of Silva’s way-bread, we took stock of the land around us.

  ‘There’s a settlement to the south there,’ I said to Ean.

  ‘And twa mair beyond,’ put in Whisper, who had just returned from a foray southward. His doubts about Ean as a protector had had to be set aside so he could do the invaluable job of spying out likely problems ahead. ‘When you came the other way, laddie, did you skirt around all of those, or pass through them?’

  ‘It’s possible to go around, but only by crossing farm land. When I was on my own it was easier to avoid attention. I had a story; once or twice I used it.’

  ‘I’ll be glad if we don’t need to go into any settlements,’ I said. ‘And even happier if we can reach the camping spot you spoke of before dusk today.’ The plan was to reach a certain secluded valley and stop there for the night. Ean said it was three days’ walk from there to the Glenfalloch border. Once across, we should be safe from Erevan’s patrols, though the king’s men might be anywhere.

  Silva was scraping morsels from a wizened apple and passing them to Piper, who perched on her shoulder. She had made a travelling nest for the little being in a pannier strapped to Snow’s back, and we had expected he would want to hide away in there while we moved across country. But Piper was becoming more adventurous the further we travelled from his home. He would call to us in his high, incomprehensible voice as we walked, and one of us would have to get him out and let him ride on a shoulder or – even more to his liking – on someone’s head, clutching their hair for purchase. Silva and I took turns, glad our small companion was apparently happy and healthy. Indeed, the frightened, wretched scrap we had seen crawling out of the broken cairn was quite transformed.

  ‘You’ll need to keep him hidden when we move on from here,’ Ean said now, frowning at Piper and Silva. ‘And keep him quiet. That squeak of his can only draw attention, and not in a good way.’

  ‘I’ll explain it to him if I can.’ I did not like using the drum for this purpose with Ean and Whisper close by, for that way of speaking and listening was surely secret, a wisdom the White Lady had shared with me for her own purposes.

  ‘We gae across the farms, then?’ Whisper sounded dubious.

  ‘Better than walking through the settlement. Be ready with the story,’ I said, knowing the story would take us only so far. ‘And we leave the talking to Ean, unless there’s no other alternative.’

  I was not entirely happy with this part of the plan. Could Ean tell barefaced lies and get away with it? Our story had him and Silva as the brother and sister they were, and me as their cousin. We lived on Glenfalloch land, working a small farm; our parents were dead. We had travelled north to pick up this fine breeding goat, promised to us by an acquaintance in the Scourie region. My brother, Fergus, was tending to the farm in our absence. Where was the farm? South of Gormal’s stronghold by some two days’ walk. The story placed our home in a region Ean knew fairly well. If anyone chose to question us about the details, he could furnish them. Silva and I would be shy country girls, leaving our kinsman to do all the talking. As for Whisper, he must remain at a distance unless a calamity befell us. His presence put all of us at greater risk. But at the last extreme, his magic might save us.

  Before we moved on, Silva and I went a short distance down the hill to relieve ourselves in privacy. I took the drum; Silva brought Piper. We sat together on the grassy slope, Silva with Piper on her knee, I with the drum held level and my mouth close to the skin.

  ‘Can you hear me?’ I whispered. ‘Can you understand?’

  Piper spread his arms, gave a nod.

  ‘Good. We’re heading into an area where there may be lots of people. Humankind. Folk who may be suspicious of us, perhaps ask us awkward questions. We must make sure they don’t find out about you. Can you stay hidden in the pannier, and not make any noise? Your voice would draw attention quickly, even if all you did was sneeze.’

  Piper seemed unimpressed by this. He mimed, rapidly, being squashed into a small space, feeling trapped and uncomfortable, being overcome with a desperate need to sneeze, and fainting under the overwhelming pressure of holding it back. He lay prone on Silva’s knee for a count of five, then bounced back to his feet and took a bow.

  ‘We will stop and let you out when we can,’ I murmured. ‘For meals, and to stretch your legs. I know it’s a lot to ask. But it’s vital, Piper. Not only to your safety but to ours as well.’

  He made the shape of a flying bird with his hands, pointing back up the hill, then shrugged with outstretched arms. I could almost hear the Lady’s dry voice: And what about the witawoo? Whaur’s his basket?

  ‘Whisper can pass for an ordinary owl. He’ll stay close but not too close, and intervene only if there’s no other choice. We’re hoping nobody will be interested in the three of us; we look like ordinary folk.’

  Piper laughed, a high buzzing sound that made the drum skin shiver.

  ‘Shh,’ hissed Silva and I together.

  The wee one clapped his hand over his mouth, his big eyes round with exaggerated horror. I smiled despite myself.

  ‘I mean it,’ I whispered against the drum. ‘Completely quiet from the moment you go back into the pannier until we open it to let you out. Promise?’

  All I got was a waggle of the wings and a shrug.

  ‘Promise, Piper. Please.’

  He nodded, tiny features suddenly sombre.

  ‘Good.’ I put the drum aside and got to my feet. ‘Silva, you go first, I’ll hold him for a bit.’

  But Piper rose from her knee, his wings flashing in the sunlight, and flew away from us. I sucked in a shocked breath; what if we couldn’t get him back? My promises would be for nothing. He was so small, a thrush could eat him in one mouthful.

  ‘You go first,’ Silva said calmly. ‘I’ll keep an eye on him.’

  ‘But –’

  ‘He just needs to stretch his wings and enjoy the air. When it’s time, he’ll come back.’

  She was right; when we were done, Piper swooped down to land on my shoulder, where he seated himself cross-legged. Back in the pannier, he bedded himself down and shut his eyes. ‘Be safe,’ I whispered as I fastened the lid down over him, but I did not have the drum, and my words most likely made no more sense to him than the sound of leaves stirring in the breeze.

  We were still well short of our planned stopping place when the light began to fade. We had bypassed the first settlement with no trouble, exchanging a nod or a word with other folk on the paths, but keeping ourselves to ourselves. We were plainly dressed; we matched our story.

  It was Snow’s exhaustion that made us camp where we did, on the bank of a stream not far from a stone wall marking a farmer’s field. Within the field there were cows; Snow answered their plaintive calls with her own distinctive cry. Piper had kept quiet, as requested. A goat, especially a hungry and footsore goat, was not so easily silenced.

  ‘She can’t go any further today,’ Silva said. ‘We have to stop here.’

  Ean said nothing, and nor d
id I. It was less than ideal: too close to several farmhouses, too exposed to the eyes of passers-by, too open to be easily defended. But we had seen none of Erevan’s fighters on the road, nor any Enforcers. With luck the local farmer would be behind closed doors by this hour. By the time he emerged in the morning, we would be gone.

  The sun went down and the cold crept in on us, a deep chill that felt almost malevolent. In the fading light we collected wood, made a rudimentary hearth from stones, and built a small fire. A risk, maybe; but I was not prepared to face the alternative, which was to die of cold before we’d even reached the border.

  For once, Ean did not argue, but helped with the fire and shared out rations. Later, as Silva settled to sleep snuggled against the goat, he spoke to me in an undertone. ‘Neryn?’

  ‘Mm?’

  ‘Promise me you’ll get her there safely.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Silva. Promise that if anything happens to me, you’ll see she gets to the others.’

  I stared at him. The firelight flickered across his face; he looked deadly serious. I opened my mouth to say something, but before I could utter a word Whisper flew across from the stone wall and landed abruptly between us.

  ‘Dinna ask Neryn any such thing, laddie,’ he said. ‘Her ain safety comes first; there’s nae arguing wi’ that. If we dinna hae her, the rebellion’s doomed.’

  Ean stared at him. ‘Doomed? That’s a strong word.’

  ‘Ean,’ I said, ‘we’re all travelling together. We all face the same risks. If something happened to you, of course we’d try to keep Silva safe. But the only promise anyone can make is to do their best.’

  Now Ean was eyeing me narrowly. ‘What does he mean, doomed?’

  ‘I hae ears o’ my ain, laddie, and a tongue tae answer wi’. Neryn’s close tae the leaders o’ this whole endeavour. Everyone has a part tae play, but hers is a part naebody else can take. And I’m her guard; my job is keeping her alive. I canna put it mair plainly.’

  After a pause, Ean spoke again. ‘It’s to do with this, isn’t it? You and him, travelling together. And that little creature, Piper. Your . . . gift. Your affinity with them.’

  ‘How long have you been with the rebels?’ I asked him bluntly.

  ‘Since autumn.’

  ‘You’re new to it, then.’

  His jaw tightened. ‘I’m not a child. I can play my part.’

  When Whisper began to speak, I motioned him quiet. ‘I know that, Ean, and I respect you for it. One thing I learned early, and never forget. What a person doesn’t know can’t be beaten out of him. We share only what’s necessary as a matter of strategy. We don’t ask personal questions and we don’t offer confidences. You’ve been careful; that’s good. I have to be careful too.’ I stared into the little fire, watching the flames dance. ‘It doesn’t get easier,’ I said. ‘We’re all torn between our personal loyalties and the cause. Even those who are older and have been doing this for years.’ Flint, kneeling by another Enforcer slain in battle, ashen-faced. Tali, wrapped tight around her pain after Regan was killed. The terrible tale of Andra and her brother. ‘But Whisper is right about me. Like it or not, I’m indispensable to the cause. Nobody can take my place.’

  ‘So if you had to sacrifice Silva to save yourself, you would.’ His voice was flat.

  ‘Let’s hope I never have to make that decision. Now, I suggest we try to get some sleep. It’ll be an early start tomorrow.’

  On the third day we ran into trouble. The weather had stayed fair, and the border was so close we could almost smell it. We had made up the time lost on that first day, and were hoping to be on Glenfalloch land by nightfall. Our spirits were high; even Snow was walking with a spring in her step.

  Perhaps we relaxed our guard a little; maybe we were just unlucky. Whisper had flown ahead as usual, and returned to warn us that there was a checkpoint across the track, and men in Erevan’s colours questioning travellers. We took evasive action, heading off across a field housing a small flock of sheep. It was necessary to open a gate to get Snow through, and then to do some pushing and shoving, as she seemed not to like the look of the sheep at all. I seized the opportunity to lift the lid of the pannier and check on Piper. He was holding on like grim death, and made a shrill protest the moment he saw me.

  ‘Shh,’ I warned, putting a finger against my lips. I closed the lid and made sure the strap was done up.

  The sheep announced our presence by scattering with loud bleats of panic. We got through the gate on the far side, beyond which lay a narrow pathway between high banks. Since there was no other choice, we clambered down and headed on. Nobody spoke. When Snow was startled by a shadow, Silva hauled her on with less than her usual gentleness.

  We rounded a corner, the pathway opened up, and there was a farm shed. Two men came walking out of it, with swords at their belts and purposeful looks on their faces. Whisper, who had been flying close by us, veered off to the south and out of sight.

  ‘Halt!’

  We obeyed.

  ‘You!’ The taller of the men addressed Ean. ‘State your name and purpose!’

  At least they were not king’s men. Maybe they’d just check us and send us on our way.

  ‘Gruan, son of Arden. Been up north to collect the goat; heading home.’

  ‘And these women?’

  ‘My sister. My cousin.’ Ean was doing well, his tone calm, his stance relaxed.

  ‘Names?’

  ‘Lia. Calla.’

  ‘Must be a difficult sort of goat if it needs three keepers.’

  ‘A good breeder. Valuable.’

  The man looked Snow up and down. ‘Mm-hm.’

  ‘Goatherd, are you, then?’ asked the shorter man.

  ‘I’ve my own smallholding. With my cousins.’

  ‘Oh, yes?’

  Ean stood quiet. He met the fellow’s stare.

  ‘You girls haven’t got much to say for yourselves,’ the taller man said, and now both of them were giving us a look up and down, the same way they had sized up Snow.

  Ean’s hand moved very slightly toward the hilt of his knife, and they saw it.

  ‘Fighter, are you?’

  ‘I try to keep out of trouble,’ Ean said. I heard the edge in his voice. ‘My weapons are to defend myself and my family, that’s all.’

  ‘Weapons. Knife and what else?’ The taller man’s whole demeanour had changed. A chill went up my spine. This was why they’d stopped us. They wanted a fight.

  ‘Knife. Staff. Bare hands. Only if I have to. All we want is to get on home with the goat. My sister’s tired. We’ve been walking a while.’

  ‘Your sister can sit down over there and take a rest. The other girl too.’ He motioned to the side of the track, by the hut, where there was a patch of grass. ‘I’m not interested in them.’ He whistled, and two more men came out of the hut, striding toward us with purpose. My stomach clenched tight. Whatever this was, it didn’t look good.

  ‘Take the goat,’ the man said.

  Silva opened her mouth to protest and shut it again as I dug her sharply in the ribs. We had to keep calm, whatever happened. Where was Whisper? Could he see us?

  The newcomers ripped Snow’s leading rope from Silva’s hand; she could not suppress a sound of protest.

  ‘Give it up, little lady,’ one man said. ‘We’ve got authority to take what we need. King’s orders.’ With that, they led Snow away. She disappeared, pannier and all, behind the hut. I wrapped my hand around Silva’s; she was shaking.

  ‘Right, now,’ said the taller of Ean’s inquisitors. ‘Let’s see what you’re made of. Staves first, I think, and you can shape up to my friend here, he’s more of a height with you.’

  ‘I’ve no wish to fight you,’ Ean said, shifting his grip on his staff. ‘We just want to get home with the goat. Folk are expecting us.’ />
  ‘It’s not up to you, laddie.’ Swift as a diving hawk, the shorter man swung his staff around, aiming straight for Ean’s head. Ean’s own staff came up to parry the blow. It seemed there was no choice but to fight.

  Silva was holding back sobs; I could only clutch her hand and hope this was no more than a couple of guards amusing themselves before letting us go on our way. Perhaps they’d bring Snow back when they were done. Perhaps they wouldn’t search the pannier. Perhaps, perhaps . . .

  ‘Piper,’ mouthed Silva, her eyes brimming with tears. A moment later there was a gurgling bleat from behind the hut, abruptly cut off. The blood drained from her face.

  I tightened my grip on her hand and gave the smallest shake of my head. Don’t say anything. Don’t do anything. If Snow was gone, she was gone. Protests of outrage would not bring her back. Besides, there were four of them. Of us three, only one was a fighter. I could not use my gift, not here with so many eyes on us. You’re our secret weapon, Neryn, Tali whispered in my mind. Put your own safety first.

  They fought with staves, then with knives, then with bare fists. Two things became apparent. Firstly, Ean was good at this; Tali would have recruited him on the spot. Secondly, this was no impulsive act by the guards, carried out purely for their own entertainment. They were testing Ean. First one, then the other took him on, stretching him hard but always holding back at a certain point, as if to avoid doing him any real injury. They were adult men, well trained and well disciplined; this was the kind of bout the new recruits at Shadowfell undertook time after time in the practice yard, earning their place among Regan’s rebels. Why would these guards bother to put a passing farmer through his paces?