by Sean Russell
“But Hafydd, or whoever he is now, was not seen to survivethis place … What did you call it?”
“The Stillwater.” Toren moved in his chair, stretching alittle as though he were in pain. He wore a deep red jacket with silveroak leafclasps, the white of his linen shirt at his wrists and neck hardly paler thanhis face. He applied himself to his wine, then refilled the glass himself, forthey had sent all the servants out. “But Hafydd will have survived.”
“We should have lopped off his head upon the field atHarrow-down, when we had the chance,” Fondor said.
Lady Beatrice did not hide her reaction to this statement,and Fondor looked suitably contrite.
Lady Beatrice took up her own glass, which appeared to beemptying at an alarming rate. Her poor mind could not grasp all that was beingsaid. It was enough that Hafydd still lived and that he had made a bargain witha sorcerer long dead, but all that Toren now told her! Servants of Deathappearing and dragging Beldor off into the night, Elise Wills alive and inthrall to some sorcerer who should have been dead a thousand years ago. And nowToren claimed that this legless man, Kai, really had been a servant of a son ofWyrr. A man without possessions, who went about in a barrow!
“I will want to speak with Kel, as soon as possible.” Torenpaused, his fork suspended halfway to his mouth. “I still don’t believe thePrince of Innes would start this war without his precious counselor present.”
“And a lucky thing for us that he did,” Fondor said. “I’vehad reports from Kel. It was a close-run battle. If Vast had not arrived whenhe did …”
“Vast shall be suitably rewarded,” Toren said, and the forkcontinued its journey.
“Yes,” Lady Beatrice said. “He shall.”
A knock at the door was followed by a guard. “News, Lady Beatrice,”the man said. “Yes, what is it?”
“Highwaymen have fallen on your guest of earlier this evening.”Lady Beatrice felt herself sway. “What do you say?”
“The two guards were found dead in the road just beyond thefirst bridge. The cart was taken. No sign of the crippled man they accompanied.”
Fondor and Toren looked at each other an instant, then wereboth on their feet and running out the door.
Nine
Lord Kel Renne rode along the crest of a low hill, gazingout over the Isle of Battle, the shimmering curve of the canal in the distanceand smoke from the pyre where they had burned the fallen still hazing the view.
Tuwar Estenford sat upon his horse near at hand, and he toostared out over the canal and to the lands beyond. “There is an army there, mylord,” he said firmly. The old man shifted in his saddle, trying to relieve thepain in a leg that had been gone now many decades. Ghost pain, he calledit, in his ghost limb.
Kel saw the old warrior wince.
“Yes, but what will Innes do with that army? That is what Iwonder?”
“It is what he is wondering as well,” Estenford said. “He isnot a smart man. He would not have considered the possibility of losing theIsle. Contingency plans would not have been in place. Now he would like to findsomething that will allow him to save face. Some small thing, for he has not alarge enough force to cross the Wynnd-not yet. But if he could manage somesmall deed here-kill a few of our men on patrol, or cross the canal in oneplace and take a few hostages. That is what we must be on guard for.”
“Lord Kel?” One of his lieutenants motioned to the grassy,southern hillside. A rider was galloping up the slope, his horse in a lather.
“A messenger from the Duke of Vast.”
“So I see,” Kel turned away from the view out over thecanal, taking one last look, as though he might catch a glimpse of an armyhiding in the wood.
The rider, hardly more than a boy, was himself out of breathwhen he arrived on the hilltop. His mount heaved beneath him like a bellows.The boy, blue-eyed and lightly bearded, banged a hand to his chest in salute. “Icome from the Duke of Vast with a message for Lord Kel Renne,” he said, ratherneedlessly, Kel thought.
“Yes, yes. Let me see it.”
Estenford intercepted the letter, keeping himself and hishorse between Kel and the messenger. Kel could see by the tenseness in the oldman’s carriage that he was ready to kill this young messenger in an instant ifneed be. The assassination of Kel Renne would do quite nicely as a face-savingact for the Prince of Innes, and Tuwar would give his life before he would letthat happen.
Kel rode a few paces off with Tuwar in tow and broke the letter’sseal. Inside he found a sheaf of papers, the first written in Vast’s nearlyillegible hand.
My Lord Kel:
A company of my men-at-arms apprehended Lord Carl A’denneattempting to cross the canal to the Isle. This in itself should, of course,cause no alarm, but my men observed Lord Carl try to rid himself of somepapers as he was found. These were fished from the canal at some risk. Whenbrought to my attention I quickly perceived they were documents copied from mypersonal correspondence, some of which was of a sensitive nature regarding ourpreparations for war with the Prince of Innes. It seems that young Carl wasplaying us for fools, and was, all along, a loyal ally of Innes. I confrontedhim with these papers, which I have included with this message for yourperusal, and I must say, his answer was less than satisfactory. I deemed itwise to keep him secure until I could consult with you, but to my shame, he hasescaped. I’m sure he will try to make his way over the canal again, so all ofyour troops should be alerted to this. I have men out searching for him now.With luck I will have him again before this letter reaches you.
Your servant, Vast
Folded in with the letter Kel found some sheets of paper,wrinkled, and water-stained. They were all in the same hand and were copies ofletters from various Renne to the Duke of Vast and from Vast to Toren and LadyBeatrice. Kel leafed through them, skimming over the contents, finding littleof real import. Still, they had been copied by Carl A’denne, and there could beno other explanation for this than that he was a spy for Innes, pretending hehad changed sides-he and his father. Kel felt a little twinge of disappointment.
“What is it, sir?” Tuwar asked.
Kel handed him the bundle of letters without explanation.The old soldier read through them slowly. After a moment, he looked up, eyeswrinkled to slits. “This is the same boy who saved your life?”
“The very one.”
Tuwar glanced down at the letters again. “I find this veryodd. Certainly there was nothing to be gained by keeping you alive.”
“So one would think. Tell me, Tuwar, why would Carl A’dennebe in possession of letters he had copied from Vast as he crossed back overinto our territory? That seems a rather foolish thing for such a clever youngman to do.”
“It does, sir, but I have seen wiser men make worseblunders.”
“I suppose.”
“I’ll alert the men to be on the look out for Carl A’denne.”Tuwar turned and gestured for one of his escorts.
“Tuwar …” Kel said.
“Sir?”
“If you find him,” Kel said so that no others might hear, “besure he is brought to me unharmed, if at all possible.”
Tuwar regarded his young commander a moment, his head tiltedto one side, but he asked no questions. “As you say, Lord Kel.”
Ten
A diffuse, misty light spread over the eastern horizon,where the stars wallowed, then went under. Tam was awake, feeding the fire,when Alaan returned to the room.
“The wolf seems to have survived the night,” Alaan said, “thoughCrowheart looks the worse for it. He says he will be able to ride today, but Idon’t think he will last the distance I had planned.” Alaan began gathering uphis belongings and packing them for the day’s ride.
“You think the Dubrell will grant us passage then?” Fynnolasked.
Alaan tightened saddlebag buckles. “I don’t know, but wemust cross their lands all the same.”
Fynnol stopped his packing and stared at Alaan, not likingwhat he heard.
“Have you learned anything of the riders?”
Tam wondered.
“Not a thing. I dropped the broach you found back on the cobbles.I hope they’ll find it. None of the Dubrell were about, nor were the riders.There are more mysteries here than answers.”
“It is a place with many stories,” Cynddl said. He leanedagainst one of the giant chairs, his arms crossed as though he were cold. Hismanner was subdued and his gaze lost in the flickering of the flames. “As canbe seen by the size of the keep, many Dubrell dwelt here, though long ago now.This is a crossroads of sorts, but not of the usual kind. It is a crossroadsbetween the land between the mountains and the hidden lands. Armies have passedthrough here, and fugitives, brigands, and sorcerers. War has come upon theDubrell without warning from men with whom they had no quarrel. Many afarmstead has been burned, many a village.
“But this is the giants’ home, and they will not leave it.They have a love for this land that is told in their stories and songs.Borenfall-Heaven’s Doorstep-they call it.” Cynddl closed his eyes. “They builtthis keep to watch over the north pass, by which we arrived yesterday. Beyondthe gates you will find mounds where the dead have been burned and buried; bothDubrell and men. Last night, as I lay awake, I saw the battles fought here, thegiants almost always outnumbered. They are not warlike by nature, but when theyare angered …
“There was once a race of men who lived several days’ rideto the north. They were warlike and merciless. They preyed upon the Dubrell,raiding their villages and putting everyone to the sword-or so the giantsbelieved. One winter night a young man, hardly more than a boy, stumbled into avillage of the Dubrell. He claimed his name was Raindel and that he had escapedfrom the land to the north, where the men held many Dubrell captive, keepingthem as slaves. The giants were forced to do the most menial work, even pullingthe plow, for the men said that horses were too valuable for such work. The boyhad crossed the north pass in winter, and was frostbitten and fevered and nearto death. The Dubrell who looked upon him went into a silent rage. More oftheir kind were gathered from all across the valley, and in the dead of winterthey forced their way through the deep snows of the north pass. The first villageof men they found at night and fell upon the unsuspecting inhabitants, puttingeveryone to the sword, burning all the buildings.
There they found a few of their kind living in squalor,little better than animals.” Cynddl paused a moment, rubbing his brow so thatTam could not see his eyes. “And so it went, village after village. Even thekeeps of the men were not proof against the rage of the giants, who felledgreat trees and, using them for battering rams, shattered the strongest gates.
“The last men met the Dubrell on a winter field, their landin flames all around. They brought forward all the Dubrell who remained in theland and gave them into the keeping of the invaders. Chests of gold and othervaluables were given as well. ‘Leave the few of us who remain in peace, and wewill never raid your lands again, and never again will we keep your people forour slaves.’ But the Dubrell were not satisfied. Many wanted the blood of thislast army as well. A great argument ensued and finally they reached anagreement. ‘Leave these lands this day, and we will spare you. Ride beyond theShattered Mountain, and settle there. Any of your kind still dwelling here onthe morrow will pay the price for what you have done to our people.’”
The men knew that many would die in such a march, but allwould die before the wrath of the Dubrell, so they gathered their remainingpeople and made what preparations they could to travel north. They passed intoa winter storm and were never heard of again.
Cynddl went to his bed and began packing his belongings,looking at no one, his face tired and pale. The others left him in peace andpacked silently for a time. When the door opened and Stone-hand appeared, theyall started.
“Uamon would speak with you,” the giant said. “Come, breakyour fast.”
In the large room they found the wolf sleeping peacefully, Rabalin a heap beside him, snoring softly.
“He is happier with beasts than men,” Uamon said. The old giantrose as they entered and motioned them to the table, where he sat alone. A warmmash of grain was ladled from a steaming iron pot.
“Have you an answer for us, Uamon?” Alaan asked. “There islittle time for what we must do.”
“Time chases all of us,” Uamon said. “But I have duties tothe Dubrell that cannot be ignored. I know you not, Alaan, but that you havecome from afar where few men travel. Enemies followed you-evil men, perhaps.And you go now to the south into lands of mist and fear. This concerns theDubrell, for our southern border is threatened by strange beasts that appearonly on the darkest nights. Our people there fall victim to sickness anddespair. Some have gone mad. Shall I send strangers there? Strangers who knowsomething of magic?” He drank from a steaming cup. “You seek knowledge you say.A noble endeavor. A spell decays, you tell us, and soon the world will beoverrun.” He fixed his troubled blue eyes on Alaan. “If we did not struggleagainst dark creatures, I would not believe you.” His gaze wandered to thesleeping wolf. “But perhaps you have been sent to aid us, to deliver us, for inthe long war against the night we are losing.” His eyes seemed to glisten alittle, but then he returned his attention to Alaan. “If you will take Wolfsonwith you, I will grant you leave to cross our lands.”
Alaan drew in a long breath and placed his fingertipstogether. “To the southern border of your own lands-I have no objection to hisaccompanying us-but there he must return.”
Uamon nodded. “Agreed.”
Alaan looked over at Tam, not hiding his misgivings. Heturned his gaze back to the giant. “Wolfson must understand-I will not toleratehis interfering in my duties.”
Uamon did not look away. “Nor will Wolfson tolerate your endangeringour people.” The two stared a moment more, then both looked away. The rest ofthe meal was eaten in silence.
The outsiders were soon carrying their bags and weapons downinto the courtyard. Tam wanted to ask about the men who had arrived so late atnight, but followed Alaan’s example and said nothing.
Wolfson had their mounts saddled and waiting in thecourtyard. The great gate creaked open, and Stonehand waved to them from thetop of the wall. Wolfson did not ride-it would have taken a Fael horse to bearhis weight-but Tam remembered that his stride was long. On his back the giantcarried a pack, and in his hand a staff. A sword swung at his side, and fromhis pack hung a massive iron helm. They filed out, Wolfson waving to Stonehand.
Off to their right, in the shadows of the trees, Tam sawmovement.
“Wolves,” Crowheart said. “But do not be concerned, you arewith me.” He glanced over at the giant who plodded along beside him. “And I’msure Wolfson would not let us come to harm.”
Tam nodded. Not that armed men should normally fearwolves-but he had seen what the pack had done to Hafydd’s spies the previousday.
The path led down into the trees, the birds all aroundsinging of morning. The grass was damp with dew, and the air stillmountain-cool. Tam looked back once where a hole in the trees opened up, andthere on the wall of the keep he thought he saw another standing besideStonehand-someone who did not reach the giant’s shoulder.
“So who were those men who came last night?” Tam called toAlaan. “The Dubrell did everything they could to keep us from knowing they werethere.”
“So they did,” Alaan answered. He slowed his horse a littleso that Tam caught up.
“What did you mean when you said they would only needsur-coats if they were fighting men?” Tam asked, a little afraid of the answer.
Alaan did not respond immediately. They rode on through thepure mountain morning, the light playing down through the trees. “You heardUamon talking about a threat to the south. I don’t think the Dubrell arefrightened of men, somehow. Their numbers are small, but they are formidablewarriors. I have seen what Slight-hand could do-how he could turn the tide of abattle all by himself. No, the giants are fighting something else. And thesemen who came last night, these men who carry the token of the Knights of theVow, they are the Dubrell’s allies. That is what I th
ink. I have seenbattle-hardened men-at-arms many times, and these men were so hardened. But Isomehow doubt that Lord Toren’s friend, A’brgail, knows of their existence.”
“It’s as though the past has come back to haunt us,” Tamsaid.
“Yes,” Alaan answered. “One would think time would be a moreeffective barrier, but it has not proven so.”
As they rode down into the green valley below, Tam could seeribbons of smoke spiraling up above the trees, but no villages or buildingscould he find. On the lake’s west shore he could see fields of irregularshapes, one spotted with the dark forms of cattle, but there were no othersigns of men-or Dubrell.
They made reasonable time, and despite the urgency of Alaan’scommission, the company did not seem to hurry. It was as though the threat thatlurked to the south paralyzed them a little, slowing their pace.
Tam found himself taking pleasure in the day, in the flightof birds or in the patterns made by sunlight falling on the forest floor. Hecould see why the Dubrell loved their valley, and it was some time before heremarked its great similarity to the Vale of Lakes. Though of course the Valehad many more fields and small villages and roads. This valley hardly appearedto be inhabited at all.
When Tam pointed this out to Alaan, the traveler answered, “Thevalley stretches far to the west, where there are villages and much farming.That’s why I chose to come by the north pass. I thought we might slip throughwithout being noticed, but luck did not favor us.”
They rode that day through the valley, which appeared to bea place of peace and quiet beauty. Fynnol, however, didn’t look at peace; nordid he seem to notice the beauty around him. When Tam commented on thesimilarity between this valley and their own, Fynnol barely raised his head tolook but only nodded and fell back to brooding.