by Sean Russell
Sometime late in the night Carl was jarred from a harshdream by desperate fluttering and wings beating against wood.
“What is it?” Carl mumbled.
“An owl,” Jamm whispered. “Got into the barn through somehole. He’s feasting on pigeons.”
Carl slept poorly after that and woke to a skiff of downyfeathers upon the hay. A few whirled up in a small breeze and went spinningdown from the loft through thin shafts of sunlight that leaked between theboards. He sat up and found their gray blankets spattered with down andcrimson.
“Is it time?” Jamm mumbled, still half-asleep.
“Time for what?” Carl asked.
“To meet the executioner,” Jamm whispered, then his eyessprang open, and he saw Carl, and he began to weep.
Seventeen
They carried him across the river in the stern of a boat,his barrow turned upside down in the bow. On the floorboards, Ufrra lay tiedand gagged. Four manned the sweeps, which had been silenced by rags so thatthey did not beat against the tholepins. There was no conversation, just theodd whispered word, almost lost in the language of rain spattering down on thesurface of the moving river.
Kai considered throwing himself over the side, into the darkwater. He’d been there before-when his legs had been cut off by Caibre. Theriver had saved him then, though he was not so sure it would do so now. He hadbeen Sainth’s companion, that day so long ago-now he was no one. A crippled manwho went about in a barrow. A man with no possessions and no home. Only loyalUfrra to tend him. Ufrra, who was even more lost than he, more dispossessed.
A torch appeared through the rain and darkness. The man atthe tiller pointed. “There!” he said. “We can let her go downcur-rent a little.”
He was a corpulent, bald man in a barrow. The task of wheelinghim was perhaps beneath the black-clad guards, so they had allowed anempty-eyed mute to bring the man into the tent. Beldor Renne wondered what madethis castoff of so much interest to Hafydd.
The sorcerer, as Beld now thought of Hafydd, sat in a campchair, his feet stretched out before him. A thin, frightened boy polished hisboots. On a table at his side, a walnut box contained the book Beld had bornefrom the shadow gate. Hafydd never let it out of his sight.
After the “assassination” of the Prince of Innes, Hafydd hadmoved out here into the field and quietly assumed control of the army. Even ifMenwyn Wills suspected Hafydd of ordering the Prince’s death-and he would be afool not to-there was nothing he could do about it. The family of the Prince ofInnes were without an heir, as Prince Michael had not only joined with theirenemies, but was now almost certainly dead. The Wills had always had lesspower in their alliance with Innes, but now they effectively had no power atall, as Hafydd had cowed the leaders of the army.
And now this legless man had been found and brought toHafydd, for what purpose Beld could not imagine.
Hafydd looked up from the boy polishing his boots. “Whowould have thought that you could survive an entire age …”
The legless man did not look particularly cowed by Hafydd,as everyone else was. He answered as though there was nothing odd in thesituation. “Yes, when Caibre had me thrown into the river the odds did not seemto favor me.”
“How did you survive?”
The legless man shrugged. “I believe that water spiritsrescued me, but I am told that this is merely a trick of my own mind.”
Hafydd contemplated this a moment, rubbing fingersabsent-mindedly over his bearded chin. “Many unexplained events have occurredon the River Wynnd-though this must be one of the strangest.” Hafydd proppedhis other boot up so the boy could polish it. “That was long ago-an age-andyou have had your revenge by living all the while that Caibre slept.” Hafyddfixed his gaze on the legless man-the gaze that reduced hardened men-at-arms tofrightened children. “Now I have need of your skills. You will take me into thehidden lands, Kilydd, or I will take away the seed that you require for yourpain.”
“You would be surprised how long I can endure that pain,”the legless man said.
“That pain, perhaps, but I have other agonies I canminister, other wounds that I might open.” He looked over at Beldor. “Put yourblade to this child’s throat.”
Beldor scooped up the bewildered child before he understood whathad been said. Beld held him easily, pinning his arms, and put a sharp daggeragainst the soft skin of his throat. The boy stopped struggling.
“An innocent child, Kilydd, but Lord Beldor does not care,”and then to Beld, “do you?”
Beldor shook his head and smiled. He watched the legless manand wondered what he would do. Would he surrender because of this threat to achild who meant nothing to him?
Kilydd shook his head. “Let the boy go, Hafydd. I will takeyou where you ask.”
“No, I won’t let him go. He will come with us … as a reminderto you. I seek a place called the Moon’s Mirror. How long will it take totravel there?”
“How can you be sure I know where it is?”
Hafydd came to his feet. A tall, proud man, he towered overthe creature in the barrow. “Because this boy’s life depends on it, as doesyours.”
The legless man considered a moment. “I traveled there once,long ago, with Sainth,” Kilydd said. “It is not a short trip-five days more orless-and we’ll require a boat at the end.”
“Could a wagon make the journey?”
The legless man thought a moment. “Perhaps, but not easily.”
“We need a cart to take you, we will manage a small boat, aswell.” He turned and noticed Beld, still holding his dagger to the frightenedboy’s throat. “Let him go, Lord Beldor. He lives-for now.”
A boat was loaded across the back of a wagon, into whichwent most of their provisions. Kai did not know what arrangements Hafydd madefor the army, but he took only a small company-twenty guards, a herdsman, and ahandful of servants, and Lord A’denne, who remained silent and aloof fromeveryone. All were on horseback but for Kai and two others, who rode in thewagon at the fore of the column. For some hours they traveled along a road,going south, but then Kai directed them into a small lane that wound up awooded hill. A stream coursed beneath the trees, and they crossed it severaltimes as they passed back and forth. At the hill’s crest they looked out over awooded land, no farms or hills in sight. The guards whispered among themselves,but Hafydd did not seem surprised to find the land utterly different than itshould have been.
The cart track had disappeared not far back, but the woodwas not dense-maple, beech, oaks, elm. The underwood was sparse, and they founda way for their wagon among the trees. Kai guided them unerringly, and Hafyddpressed them to make better speed.
The day was fine, sunlight tumbling down through the boughsand trembling upon the forest floor. Several times they stopped to take downsome small trees to let the wagon pass, but for the most part they wentforward, if not quickly, at least not as slowly as Kai expected. The boy, whohad had the misfortune to be blacking Hafydd’s boots when Kai arrived, rodebetween Kai and the driver, silent, sullen, frightened. Every now and then hewould look around at the unfamiliar landscape as though measuring his chancesof escape, but always he would find them too small or he would lose his nerve.
Twice streams had to be crossed, but the fords were passable.At dusk a large meadow opened up before them, almost a prairie, and they madetheir camp in the trees on the edge of the flowing grass. A fire was quicklykindled from deadwood, and the servants began making camp and preparing asupper.
The man Hafydd called Kilydd, but who called himself Kai,was tended by a mute servant named Ufrra, a strange creature, strongly builtbut oddly gentle. He laid fragrant bed of cedar boughs for his master, coveringit with threadbare bedding. A tea he then prepared, which seemed to bringrelief from some pain, for Kai’s face had been twisted in silent agony for somehours.
Beld watched in interest, still wondering who this man was.He was leading them into the “hidden lands,” but that was really all Beld knew.And Hafydd had said something about the man being alive all the
se years. Buthow ancient did that make him?
The bootblack, whose name was Stillman-Stil, for short-hadgravitated into Kai’s circle. The legless man spoke kindly to him, and the boytook to aiding the mute servant. Beld watched as he helped Ufrra lift Kai fromhis barrow and deposit him on his bedding. There was not much protection thata legless man could offer this waif, but perhaps the boy didn’t know that. Kaiwas the only man in the company who did not seem to fear Hafydd, and he hadsaved the boy’s life once. Perhaps that was enough. As Beld well knew, one madealliances where one could. Perhaps the boy sensed that Kai wassofthearted-softhearted among a company who would murder a baby if ordered to.He looked around at the dark-clad guards going quietly about theirbusiness-almost as mute as Kai’s servant. There was not a shred of humanityamong them, the nobleman was certain.
Kai noticed Beldor’s gaze fixed on him.
“Is there something you wish to say to me, Lord Beldor?”
“Hafydd will kill the boy as soon as he has what he wants.He’ll kill you too.”
“No, he won’t kill me. He might have need to travel the hiddenlands yet, and I am one of the few who can lead him there.
What of you, Lord Beldor? What is it you offer him that noone else can? Maybe it is you he has no need of.”
Kai looked up, “Ah, Lord A’denne …. Is there something Imight do for you?” “I have been ordered to lay my bed here, beside Sir Eremon’sother captives.”
“An enemy of Hafydd’s is a friend of mine,” Kai said, andturned to Beld. “Be sure to report that to your master, it might curry you somesmall favor.”
“You know I won’t harm a cripple,” Beld said. “So how muchcourage does it take to be insolent to me?”
“Oh, Kilydd is more courageous than you can imagine, LordBeldor.”
Beld turned to find Hafydd standing behind him.
“He once was attacked in a tower by six assassins. He mighthave escaped-I’m almost sure he could have-but what glory would that havegained him? No, he killed them all in a few hours. My best-trained assassins.One would have easily killed … well, you, Lord Beldor.” Hafydd turned hisintimidating gaze on Kai. “No, you mustn’t underestimate Kai. He is not afraidof you because he would almost certainly kill you in a fight-as long as hekept the dagger he conceals in his clothes. But I will tell you this, Kai. Ifyou are leading me astray, or roundabout, I will kill the boy, then yourservant, then Lord A’denne. Their lives are dependent upon you.”
“I shouldn’t worry to much about mine,” Lord A’denne saidevenly. “My life is forfeit no matter what.”
Hafydd stared at Lord A’denne who tried to meet his gaze,but after a minute he looked away.
“Lord Beldor,” Hafydd said. “Come to my tent.”
Hafydd was the only man in camp who did not sleep out underthe stars, though Beld knew it was not because he was soft. His pallet waslaid out in a small pavilion, and before it sat a folding chair of cleverdesign and a trunk that doubled as a desk. A pair of candle lanterns providedthe light, and a guard at every outside corner the security.
Hafydd took the chair, where he put his fingertips togetherand tapped them against his bearded chin. “If I were you, I would keep mydistance from Kai, who is something of a sorcerer and a more dangerous man thanany imagine.”
Beld gave a half bow, wondering if he had broken some unknowncode or law. Did sorcerers bear respect for one another, even when enemies, theway that men-at-arms did?
Hafydd reached into his cloak and took out a stone on a goldchain. “Do you know what this is?”
“It appears to be an emerald,” Beld said, “though I havenever seen one so large.”
Hafydd held it up so that it spun slowly in the light. “Itmight be an emerald, in truth-or might have been, once. But it is somethingquite remarkable now. It seems to be a conscience, or something very like one.I’m not quite sure how it came into my hands, though I believe it must havebeen arranged by my brother-Caibre’s brother, Sainth; the man we know as Alaan,my whist. Fortunately, I recognized its purpose before it had the effect Alaanhoped.” He held the chain out to Beld. “I want you to keep it safe. Wear itaround your neck. I want to observe its effect on you. See what happens to aman who grows a conscience.”
Beld hesitated, wondering if he were being played for afool.
“Take it. It won’t harm you. Many believe a conscience is anecessary part of a man’s personality. Let us see if it will win, or if yourtrue nature can resist it.” He leaned forward and dangled the chain on hisfingers, the green stone still turning slowly.
Beld reached out and took it reluctantly. He did not likethings arcane. The cursed book had made his skin crawl. Now this.
“Put it over your head, Lord Beld. Wear it at all times.Tell me if you have any feelings of regret or remorse. I will have you killLord A’denne in a few days, and we will observe the effect that has on you.”The knight gave him a tight-lipped smile. “Good night, Lord Beldor. Sleep well.”
Beldor found his bedding laid out not far from the otherswho had been abducted, within the same circle of guards and isolated by othermen-at-arms from Hafydd’s tent. Beld realized he was not trusted any more thanKai or Lord A’denne. He had tried to murder his cousin for appeasing theWills, then offered his services to the Wills when his plot had failed. Whowould trust him now? Certainly the Hand of Death had entrusted him to carrythe book to Hafydd, and to serve him, but then what fool would betray the Handof Death?
Kai had been right. He glanced over at Lord A’denne, who sattalking to the bootblack, Stil. The nobleman would be dead in a few days.Likely he knew it. Kai would be kept alive as long as he was useful. Thebootblack … he was so inconsequential that his life could slip away at any moment.Hafydd might feed him to a dog.
And here he sat, on Death’s doorstep, with these others. Hereached up and pressed the hard jewel inside his cloak against his breastbone.Why had Hafydd given it to him? What did he mean it was a “conscience”? A man couldnot grow a conscience if he had not been born with one. That was a truth. Beldregretted none of his actions-oh, he regretted not killing Toren when he’d hadthe chance. It was the weakness of other men that they took action, then feltregret and remorse afterward. Beld lived with the consequences of his deeds.He did not weep and tear his hair and allow guilt to torture him. That was forweaklings and fools. Men like Dease and Arden. Men who hadn’t the stomach tolive with their own choices.
He stopped pulling off his boots. And here’s where hischoices had led him-to the camp of Hafydd, where he was expendable. WhereHafydd hung a bespelled jewel around his neck to observe the effect.
But I was offered reprieve before Death’s gate. Whatchoice had I?
None; that was the truth. Anyone would have chosen as hedid-not to go into the timeless night.
Beld lay down, gazing up at the great sea of darkness bejeweledby a haze of stars. Something at the edge of his vision caught his attention,and he turned to find the bootblack staring at him, his look utterly cold andfilled with hatred. Beld did not think he would sleep well that night.
Eighteen
The eyes of the blind shed tears. That capacity remainedwhen all went dark. That is what Dease thought as he sat with Lord Car-ralWills.
They perched in a high, round window in Castle Renne, light,shattered by the stained glass, scattered all around and over their hands andfaces. The scene depicted in the stained glass was the fall of Cooling Keep andthe destruction of the Knights of the Vow-though the Knights had survived-ashad too many other things from the past.
Lord Carral held a delicate hand to his forehead, and asplash of blue spread over the skin. Blue tears streaked his face, but he didnot sob; nor did his shoulders shake.
“I’m sorry, Lord Carral,” Dease said softly.
“No, it is good news you bring. My only child, my Elise,alive.” His shoulders began to shake, and he kept his face partially hiddenwith his fine-boned hand. “But why did she let me think she was dead?”
Dease did not know h
ow to answer. In truth he had no idea whyshe had done so. Certainly he could manufacture some possible explanations,and would if need be, but he really did not know.
“I’m sure Lady Elise had her reasons,” Dease said.
Carral straightened a little and turned his body away, asthough ashamed of this show of emotion-though somehow Dease suspected he wasnot.
“Has this thing taken her over completely?”
“The nagar? She claimed it had not. I don’t know your daughter,so it was difficult for me to gauge, but those who did know her did not reactas though she were in any way … strange.”
“Thank the river for that,” Carral said. “Is she alive now,I wonder?”
“Many of us survived the flooding of the tunnels, and as shehad already survived the river, I’m sure she is unharmed.” Dease was not at allsure, but he hoped his doubts could not be heard.
Carral did not exhibit the normal gestures of sighted men.He did not nod or shake his head, he seldom smiled or frowned. His habituallyblank expression was enigmatic-until he wept.
“Then perhaps she will reappear soon. We might hope.”
“We do hope. Let it be sooner rather than later.”
Carral wiped away the tears on his face with the flat of hishand, as though he had just become aware of them. Sunlight threw the images ofCooling Keep down upon the floor and across Lord Car-ral’s back. Flames dancedin his hair. Very stiffly he rose. Down his back Knights tumbled to theirdeaths.
He did not turn to face Dease but fixed his pale eyes on thedim hallway that opened up before him. His shadow loomed over the fall ofCooling Keep.
“When you saw her … Lord Dease, was she …” He swallowed,his throat apple bobbing. “Did she seem well? Unharmed?”