The oath was binding; a lifetime commitment. Grudge, Hawk, Rook, and Wren were part of Taliesin’s large extended family, something she didn’t take lightly and hoped they didn’t either. Perhaps one day Wren would prove her worth, and finding the duke’s armor was a good start.
“They better not have been spying on us,” Taliesin said.
“I doubt it,” he said. “Can’t you see Wren is crying? This was her first Gathering, Taliesin. Show her a little compassion. She’s an innocent child.”
Taliesin bristled. “She’s sixteen years old,” she said. “I was nine when I first went out onto a field. I was an innocent. No girl sleeping with two men is that innocent, Grudge.”
“Rook is a deaf mute,” Grudge said. “I seriously doubt he heard a thing, and he certainly won’t talk. Wren won’t either, and Hawk is very fond of you. He’s a friend of mine, too. He won’t say anything, or I’ll break his arm.”
With Taliesin in the lead, they headed away from the pasture toward the eastern escarpment, following a narrow path used by cows that had scattered during the battle. The cows were now tied behind twenty wagons. The members of their clan were tossing heavy bags into the wagon beds, along with mounds of cloths and numerous weapons, massively produced and easily sold in bulk at markets. The wind had picked up as the sun started to set behind a bank of dark clouds, and Taliesin gazed up at a lone hawk circling overhead.
“It’s not that I’m against making money,” Hawk said. “But coming here was a bad idea, Grudge. The road home will be filled with Maldavian troops, looking for Fregians who might have escaped. The Eagles left behind the bodies of the noblemen and knights. It’s not like them to leave a bastard behind, as long as he has blue blood.”
“I agree,” Grudge said. “The Maldavians have clearly sided against King Frederick and now support Prince Almaric. I’m not sure why the Eagle Clan didn’t warn the Fregians about the ambush since the Fregians are King’s Men.”
“The Eagle Clan? Royalists?” Hawk asked, scoffing. “That’s strange. Want to hear something strange? We couldn’t find Hrothgar’s head. I think that crazy old crone Minerva got to it first to add to her collection.”
Wren let out a sob. “Why did you bring me here, Hawk? I was happier in the kitchen,” she said. Taliesin winced at the quaver of the girl’s voice. She hadn’t cried at the age of nine, and yet Wren went on blubbering. “It was horrible. We’re nothing but grave robbers. That’s how low we’ve sunk, Hawk. Don’t ever ask me to do it again.”
Taliesin glanced over her shoulder, the spear resting on it, and watched as Wren wiped tears from her cheeks. Pathetic, she thought. Rook was gazing at Wren like a lovesick boy, silent adoration, but Hawk had the good sense to glare at her until she stopped crying.
“How do you know about what happened here, Grudge?” Wren said.
“Tactics are the meat and bones of winning a battle, and Sertorius is one of the best when it comes setting an ambush,” Grudge said. “The prince lured the Fregians to this particular field, doesn’t matter how—a broken promise, a public insult. Any way you look at it; Hrothgar took the bait and charged without thinking. King Frederick is prudent; he deliberates for weeks, even months, with his war council. Strategy is his forte, so it’s possible Sertorius was doing what his father told him to do. I doubt that though. Sertorius is a cold, calculating hunter. He is good at setting traps. Frederick and Hrothgar were good friends, and that’s why I know Sertorius and Peergynt have sided with Almaric.”
“You’re so wise, Grudge,” Wren said. “You’d have made a brilliant general.”
Grudge laughed. “I simply observe more than most men. Some are good at reading animal tracks; I can read a battlefield. Rather like reading tea leaves in a cup like Minerva can, only I do it with bodies. We’re coming up on the wagons. Enough talk for now.”
Arriving at the wagons, Grudge walked to Osprey’s wagon to unload their bags. Hawk, Rook, and Wren went to another wagon. Keeping the spear, Taliesin headed through the crowd, trying to reach the Raven Master, seated beneath the shade of a chestnut tree, surrounded by Black Wing guards. A shrill voice brought her to an immediate halt. “Did you find the Fregian duke’s sword?” Taliesin’s path was blocked by Minerva’s tall, thin figure. The twins, Falcon and Talon, stood beside her, holding folded silken tunics.
“None of your business, you old magpie,” Taliesin said. She turned around and hurried to Grudge as he hid their bags beneath a dirty horse blanket. The old crone was watching them. “I wish she’d leave us alone. I hate that woman.”
Grudge laughed as he unlaced the strings of his leather jerkin and opened it wide, exposing a hairy chest, wet with perspiration. He removed the jerkin and tossed it into the wagon, muscles rippling as he moved, and she took a good, long, hard look at him. His biceps were monstrous, and his chest was broad and wide. His bald head was nicely shaped, his jaw preposterously square, and the length and size of his legs admirable. He was a fine specimen, she had to admit, and even Minerva was gawking. Grudge smiled at Taliesin, dimples appearing in his cheeks. Taliesin knew she was blushing.
“I think that’s the first time you’ve really looked at me,” Grudge said. He leaned toward her. “I’m sure the royal flag is very happy, nestled against your breasts.”
“Hush, you oaf,” Taliesin said, bristling. “You saw me pick it up, did you?”
“Sweetheart, I see everything. I’m always watching you.”
“I can’t decide if that’s creepy or not,” she said. “We need to be on the road before nightfall, so stop grinning and go fetch my father. It’s time to leave.”
With a nod, Grudge walked to where Osprey was seated. They spoke briefly before Grudge helped the old man to his feet, leading him to the wagon. Taliesin climbed onto the seat, placed the spear at her feet, and held out her hand as Grudge helped Osprey into the wagon. The Raven Master took her hand as she pulled him beside her. Wrinkles appeared at the corners of Osprey’s pale blue eyes. She counted seven crow’s-feet, deep grooves in his skin that marked his age as seventy, making him the oldest man in the clan.
“It’s been a long day and we’re tired,” Osprey said, though he hadn’t done more than sit on a blanket and wait for the Gathering to end. His lips quivered and pulled upwards, revealing crooked, stained teeth. “How did you fair today, my dear? Find anything worth a king’s ransom?”
“A few nice things,” she said. His wording seemed odd. Was he implying something or not. “I did find a silver spear that I intend to give to Rook.”
“Don’t get your feathers in a ruffle, my dear. I’m sure you did your best.” Osprey patted her leg as she picked up the reins and the two plow horses lifted their ears, ready to leave.
“I’ve asked Grudge to be a Black Wing,” he said, watching her intently. “He’s a skilled fighter, despite what you may think of him.”
“I don’t think about him,” Taliesin said, growling under her breath.
Osprey smiled. “I’m sure Grudge did well today. Grudge is a man of quality underneath his dirty disguise. You won’t find anyone better, Taliesin. When a man builds a new nest, he uses none of the old twigs, least he makes the same mistakes that set him aground in the first place. Peel away the grim, and you may find a man worth loving.”
“Whoever he once was makes no difference to me,” Taliesin said, but his words had roused her curiosity. “I am happy enough to be your daughter and do my duty.”
“Grudge is a Fregian, did you know? Shouldn’t mention it, of course, but seeing how you take after me and love knowing everyone’s business, I thought you’d want to know,” Osprey said. “These were his countrymen who died here this day. Must have been hard on him. Oh well.” He patted her leg again. “Perhaps in a few weeks we’ll journey east to Bavol to sell our goods at the grand bizarre in the city of Antillia. The Crystal Mosque is a lovely place. I know you’ll love it there.”
“We won’t stop in Burnlak?” Taliesin asked. “It’s only twenty miles from here.
” She was thinking of Grudge, his love of snow, and his dead countrymen, and somehow it seemed fitting she’d given him Doomsayer, after all.
“No, we’re going straight home,” Osprey said, not offering any explanation.
“Head out,” Captain Leech shouted, a large, gray-bearded man on a tan horse. He waved his hand, signaling the wagons forward, and rode to the front of the line. Several mounted guards, along with Grudge and Hawk, riding the white horse he’d found, rode ahead. The rest of the guards remained with the wagons.
“Be careful a scavenger does not follow you home,” Osprey said, repeating a well-known saying among their clan. Every clan member within earshot repeated the next line with him. “…. for Death will come soon after.”
Damn fools, Taliesin thought, tempting fate as they did.
* * * * *
Chapter Three
“We’ll go through the Black Mountains,” Osprey said, as they traveled under the stars. Leaving behind the green fields and farms, the Clan took the road toward the Gorge of Galamus, which meant three more days of difficult travel. The road narrowed to a path ascending into the mountains, requiring the men in the wagons to climb out and lead the teams.
With the rays of first light, they reached the gorge, and Grudge climbed off his horse, leading the way across the rickety bridge. Hawk followed, the white stallion blindfolded, crossing behind the Black Wings, who fanned out on the opposite side to watch the others cross. Women and children walked across the bridge. The wagons with their heavy loads came last, and despite the bridge’s state of disrepair, the frayed ropes held. Descending the mountain road was even more difficult, for the path was riddled with fallen boulders which had to be moved aside before the weary travelers could continue. After three nights in the mountains, sleeping on the ground with no fires lit, the Raven Clan arrived at the main road that led into the Great Forest of Tannenberg where Raven’s Nest was located.
The old trees reached into the sky like tall sentinels, and not a bird sang out as the wagons rolled through and passed a small waterfall, the carcass of an elk killed by a pack of wolves, and familiar landmarks Taliesin had memorized over the years. Bands of thieves lived at the outskirts of the forest, robbing anyone foolish enough to enter; however, the Black Wings had a nasty reputation and Captain Leech was something of a legend among cutthroats and thieves. There’d been no incidents or any sightings of Maldavian patrols, and Taliesin drove the team of horses, not complaining though her backside ached. Grudge, accompanied by Hawk riding his white stallion, rode off with Captain Leech and a scout, making sure their route remained safe.
“I’ll be glad when we reach Raven’s Nest,” Osprey said, the hood of his cloak pulled over his gray head. He gnawed on a stick of beef jerky. “As soon as we’re home, we’ll go through the loot and make certain nothing was taken that doesn’t belong to our clan. No one has given an alarm, but the hairs on the back of my neck are up, which means we’re being followed. I suspect Wolfmen. But I’m sure you didn’t take anything you shouldn’t have. You’re a smart girl, Taliesin. I can always depend on you.”
She wished it were true, that she was smart and dependable, but during the night while they made camp, finally lighting fires to cook a decent meal, Grudge and Hawk rode off again with the captain and scout. Taliesin couldn’t help feeling partly to blame for the clan being trailed by Wolfmen. A scent on the wind kept tickling her nose, something that smelled like wet leaves and wet dog, staying with them when they journeyed on the next morning, making her feel anxious until evening when she spotted the giant oak tree at the end of a long road.
Raven’s Nest was located in a remote part of the Great Forest. The giant oak that protected Raven’s Nest had been there since the Raven King ruled Caladonia a thousand years ago. The giant oak had been a sapling then, growing strong and tall over the centuries, towering above every other tree and ruling as a king of the forest. The Raven Clan had once been powerful, but as the tree aged, their clan had withered; yet the tree remained strong. Raven’s Nest was built in and around the ancient tree. Over the main gate of Raven’s Nest, and at every window of every room built into the tree, twigs were twisted, making frames and harbors for tiny flowers and ivy to grow. A large rectangular frame of twigs led into a fenced garden, with winding paths and wicker chairs facing a babbling stream.
Nestled high above in the tree limbs, structures built to weather seasonal storms were used as homes and for storage. Along the enormous limbs were platforms fitted with railed balconies, decorated with flowers and ivy, where flocks of doves, sparrows, hawks, and ravens dwelled together in harmony. That evening, Raven’s Nest appeared dark, though; not a light was on in any of the windows, no fire in the main courtyard, and guards stood at the main gate, which opened at the approach of the caravan. Around the base of the giant oak was Raven’s Hall, three levels and twenty rooms painted dark green and brown, supported by broad beams, and covered by a thatched roof. The main doors, built of stout oak and engraved with the sign of the raven, were closed, appearing dark and cold as the wagons came to a halt.
Black Wings stood outside the main doors and along the wall that wrapped around the small village. Overhead, in the canopy of green leaves, men with bows and arrows watched from the platforms. The guards dismounted first and assumed defensive positions around the enclosure after handing their horses to servants who appeared from the shadows. People remained quiet as the wagons were emptied, the draft horses led to the stable for grooming and feeding, and the spoils taken to an adjoining building. No one came out of the hall to greet them, not even Hillary, the master of the kitchen, and he always came out with a glass of honeyed wine for the Raven Master. It wasn’t the type of homecoming Taliesin expected. She quickly climbed out of the wagon, her mind turning to the gold and silver swords in the wagon.
“Help me, child.” Osprey held out his hands as Taliesin reached up and helped him climb out of the wagon. Minerva walked past, a ghostly figure in the night, trailed by the blonde twins carrying a large bag between them. “That woman terrifies me,” he said. “If I had not married Minerva fifty years ago, I would be content in my old age. Henpecked. That’s what I am. Shame we didn’t lose her somewhere on the road.”
Both gave a burst of laughter, fading as fast as it came as they watched mothers from the journey gather at the foot of the wraparound staircase winding around the huge tree and climb to the upper rooms. No one approached Raven’s Hall; two guards remained at the door. Five more guards with lit torches helped the women enter through the gate, a fire ring circling the trunk as they ascended. A second fire appeared along the circular wooden barricade that protected Raven’s Nest. Soldiers appeared with torches, standing at their posts along the battlements and two towers at the front gate. Nothing more than a platform, soldiers reached the upper level by staircases. More than two hundred Black Wings protected Raven’s Nest. Their brothers protecting the wagons joined them on the wall and aloft in the tree to stand guard in their perches. The greatest activity, caused by household servants attempting to carry in bags and finding resistance when the owners objected, required the attention of the Captain of the Black Wings. A tall form in a black cloak, hood raised, appeared around the front of Osprey’s wagon, walking with great confidence. It surprised Taliesin but not Osprey.
“I’ve never seen Captain Leech walk so straight,” Taliesin said; “the ride must have done him good. But he’ll have trouble taking the broom from Mrs. Caldwell. The house staff never should have been asked to help...they pocket loose coins and everyone knows it, though you always make sure they receive a fair cut.”
“That’s not Leech, my dear.” Osprey smiled sadly. “I’m afraid Leech died on the road. Grudge said it was his heart. They’ve taken his body out back to bury.” He patted her on the arm. “There, there, child. I know you were fond of him, but keep your head high and let Captain Grudge handle things his way. Why don’t you wait for Grudge on the porch? I’m sure he’ll tell you what happened.” A s
hiver went through his skinny body. It wasn’t that cold, not to her, but Osprey apparently felt the chill in his brittle, old bones. “Whatever happens tonight, stay right at Grudge’s side, that’s what I ask.”
“I’m not a child,” she said, sharply. “I don’t need a nursemaid or coddling.”
“Yes, yes, my dear, my thoughts exactly. Still, wait for Grudge before you go inside, just to be safe, and then find out why Hillary hasn’t come out to greet us. I’ve a feeling this trip will be my last.” Osprey’s prediction of doom made Taliesin worry all the more: Doomsayer, Jasper and what he’d said, the strange behavior of the Eagle Clan, and Grudge’s fear of a civil war. “I’d best go over and stop Mrs. Caldwell before she gives Grudge a goose egg with that broom of hers.” He kissed her cheek. “Off you go, my dear.”
Osprey walked off. Taliesin reached under the seat to retrieve the silver Erindorian spear and a pouch filled with wild strawberries for Hillary, but Osprey’s words haunted her. ‘His last trip,’ he’d said, and here she’d wanted it to be her last trip as well. A spike in her intuition made her search her bags in the back of the wagon for Mandrake’s silver sword in the red scabbard, which she strapped around her waist. She was ambidextrous but wore the sword on her left hip, finding the weight oddly comfortable. She lifted her bags and shouldered them as she walked across the cobblestone courtyard toward Raven’s Hall.
The wind picked up, blowing the branches clear. Starlight and moonlight shone pale and silver upon the stones. Taliesin heard the name Jasper whispered on the breeze, a ghostly voice filling her with a sense of dread. She’d spoken to dead men, and now they were returning, walking corpses, and she imagined rotting hands clawing at the fence, wanting to gain entrance. Her hand fell to the hilt of her sword. A shadow appeared on the steps ahead of her, and goose bumps rose on her arms. Someone or something was approaching her from behind. She spun around, hoping it would be Grudge, but no one was there.
Seeker of Magic Page 4