by Sean Russell
Carl turned to Samul, his face grim and determined. “Thereare no prisoners in this war,” he said, and went to the aid of Jamm.
In a moment it was over, six men down, their horses millingabout but for two that had been hamstrung and lay thrashing. Prince Michaeldispatched both of these cleanly, turning to the others, his face contorted infear and rage, sweat glistening on his cheeks. Jamm was finishing off the menwho still lived, which Samul could not bear to see. This was not the kind ofwarfare he had been trained for.
“If the sounds of this little melee have been heard, everyman-at-arms within half a league will be upon us,” the Prince said grimly.
“Quiet,” Jamm ordered. “Listen.”
They all stood gasping for breath, Samul favoring hisinjured ankle. It had almost cost him his life a moment ago. Pwyll and Carlcaught the remaining horses and brought them under the cover of the willow.
“Samul?” Pwyll said. “Can you help?”
The Renne went to the aid of his friends, calming thehorses.
After a moment Jamm appeared. “I think fortune has smiled onus,” the little man said. “Though we’ll not be this lucky twice.”
“We’re traveling too slowly,” Pwyll said. “We need to putleagues between ourselves and this place. Sneaking about by night can only takeus a small distance each day.” He shook his head. “Not enough.”
“I agree, but what else can we do?” Samul asked.
“It is time for a bold stroke,” Pwyll said, tying two horsesto the tree. “Help me strip these corpses. We’ll hide them in the bushes. Washthe blood out of their surcoats, and ride out into the daylight. There arecompanies of riders going this way and that, we’ll hardly be noticed. At adistance we could be anyone. Up close … well, four of us can pass formen-at-arms. Jamm will do if he doesn’t speak.”
“It’s a crazy risk,” Jamm said urgently.
“So is staying near here this night,” Prince Michael said. “Iagree with Pwyll.”
“Someone will find these dead horses,” Jamm said. “What willyou do with those?”
“Use the other horses to drag them into the wood,” Carlsaid.
“Anyone who sees the flattened grass and bush will want toknow what caused it.” Pwyll considered a moment. “There might be nothing betterto do than leave them where they are and hope no one discovers them.”
After some debate, they cut down bushes and hid the horsesas best they could. The smell would give them away soon, anyway, as it was awarm day. They stripped the dead men and washed the blood out of their clothingas best they could. Jamm found a needle and thread in a saddlebag and turnedhis hand to mending the rents caused by blade and arrow.
Samul Renne felt good to be a man-at-arms again, even if hewas dressed in the purple and black of the House of Innes.
“There you are, Michael,” Carl said, gazing at hiscompanion. “A Prince of Innes again.”
“Just a renegade man-at-arms, I’m afraid,” the Prince said.
They let the horses drink, and rode out of the protection ofthe trees. Pwyll led them up a nearby hill, where they could survey thecountryside for some distance. Parties of riders and men on foot could be seensearching the hedgerows and woods.
“We’ll have to make a show of searching as we go,” Pwyllsaid. “But we must also make our way south with all haste. Once the dead horsesand men are found the search will be on for men-at-arms dressed in purple andblack. We need to be far away by morning.”
Pwyll and Jamm contrived to keep them distant from any othercompanies they saw that day, and when a company was in view Pwyll and theothers would make a show of searching along hedgerows and under thickets. Neardusk they stopped at a peasant’s cottage and bought food enough for dinner andto break their fast in the morning. As night fell they stopped to eat and letthe horses graze awhile. Soon after, they were riding, under a clear, starrysky. If they were seen crossing the open fields, they would appear to bemen-at-arms searching the countryside-and the local people didn’t interferewith men-at-arms.
In this way they approached the Isle of Battle by morning.Pwyll kept them going, tired as they were, over the dew-slick pastures. Cockscrowed as the dairymen drove their freshly milked herds out to pasture. In theeast, a few strands of cloud were awash in orange and crimson.
“A perfect morning,” Lord Carl said to Samul Renne.
“It is incongruously peaceful. But even so, you’re right.When you believe you’re seeing your last graying dawn, each one after seems amiracle.”
Carl nodded, and then said quietly. “I’m concerned thatPrince Michael is becoming desperate. That he might do something reckless.”
Samul let his eye stray to the Prince, who rode ahead withPwyll. A grim determination had come over him, Samul thought, as though hewould either succeed or die in the attempt. “Sometimes it is the act ofreckless bravado that wins men over,” the Renne said.
“And sometimes it gets you killed. I’ve seen it.”
“Yes, but this was a desperate endeavor from the beginning,Carl. The army Menwyn Wills now commands is too large, and too well equippedand trained. All the forces the Renne can muster cannot stand against it in thefield. And that is without Hafydd. If he returns-and I don’t know how you killa man who has made a bargain with Death-they will roll over the land betweenthe mountains like a winter storm. If Prince Michael can’t succeed in breakingoff part of that force, we will all soon be dead anyway. Dead or, if we run,dishonored.”
Thirty-four
It stood in the center of the river, rising like a tallship, stone sails billowing in the filtered light of later afternoon.
“There is your island, Sir Hafydd,” Kai said. “The Isle ofWaiting. The Moon’s Mirror is said to lie there, though I did not see it whenI traveled here with Sainth.”
Hafydd rose up in the stern of the boat, staring down theriver. He glanced around toward the west, shading his eyes and gauging theheight of the sun. “Sunset is still some hours off. We will go ashore and findthis mirror.”
The island proved to be farther off than they first thought,its great height creating the illusion that it lay closer, but in time theyreached its shore. Beneath the massive cliffs and towering ramparts Lord A’dennethought they must look like a water insect, skimming the green surface of theWynnd.
“There is a landing place at the far end,” Kai said, “orthere was-an age ago.”
What had appeared at a distance to be great billowing stonesails now proved to be the remains of walls, and all about, stairways wentwinding up, their stone treads weathered and worn away. Trees broke through thestone in many places, roots heaving up steps and paving stones, reaching outfrom between the stones of walls, doing what siege engines could likely neverhave done when the fortifications still stood.
As the boat passed, the men stared up at the stoneworksabove. It was a quiet place, apparently dry, for many leaves had turned reddishbrown, and a thin carpet of the fallen lay upon the ground and the ruinedbattlements. In the filtered light that fell through the high overcast ofsmoke, autumn seemed to have come to the isle-as though it lay outside of thetime that governed the rest of the world.
At the southern end, a small, man-made lagoon welcomed them,and they drove their craft over the still waters up to a half-submerged stonequay.
Lord A’denne climbed out stiffly, stretching his back,cramped from his unaccustomed duty at the oars. As usual, the black-clad guardsgathered close about their master. Another stood a few paces from the noblemen,and A’denne did not need to be told what duty he had drawn-they would neverleave them unwatched again, or let them near their master without Hafydd’s expresscommand. He had wasted his one chance-and, worse, he felt that Hafydd had madea fool of him, feigning weakness to lure him into the attempt on his life. Ifit were possible, he hated the sorcerer even more.
Kai was lifted out of the boat and set in his barrow, wherehis servant tried to make him comfortable. The legless man was in agony, A’dennecould see. Hafydd held back the herb Kai needed
to govern his pain andportioned out just enough to keep Kai in near-constant torment. There was noreason for this cruelty that the nobleman could see, but then such viciousnesswas not founded in reason.
Hafydd turned on Kai then. “This is the place …” thesorcerer said. “You’re certain?”
“Yes. This is the place Sainth brought me,” Kai said, “anage ago … when I still walked upon the earth.”
“Then I wonder what use I have for you, Kilydd …?” Hafyddsaid softly.
“None,” the little man answered, “unless, of course, youwish to return to the land between the mountains.”
Hafydd nodded to the flowing river. “Oh, I think this branchwill join the Wynnd eventually.”
“I wouldn’t wager gold on it. This place is like no other.It lies on the border between the hidden lands and the world that we know. Youwill see when you climb up. The stairs do not lead where they should, nor evento the same place twice. Even Sainth was confounded. As for leaving … Youmight set out down the river, but you will soon fetch up on the shore of thisisland again. The Isle of Waiting, Lord Caibre. Without me you will wait herean age or more.”
Hafydd turned to his guard captain. “Search him for weapons!See that he does himself no harm.” Hafydd turned back to the man in the barrowbut still addressed his guards. “He has harbored his pathetic life this long, Ihardly think he would chose to end it now-but we will take no chances.” For amoment more the knight stared at Kai, who met his gaze and would not lookaway.
“Haul the boat up on the quay and make it fast to a tree. Wedon’t want to be swimming when we leave.” Hafydd turned brusquely away andmounted the stair. Lord A’denne helped Ufrra and Beldor Renne bear Kai’s barrowup, and it was not light, even with Ufrra taking half the weight.
There were two stairways ascending from the quay, and Hafyddchose the left. The stair wound steeply up through the autumnal trees, itsuneven treads allowing not a moment of inattention. The bootblack tried to helpwith the barrow where he could, but was too small and almost more of ahindrance, getting under the feet of the others, until Beld warned him away.Finally, the stair crested at a landing. The bases of columns could be seenthere, in a field of dried mustard-colored moss. The view over the windingriver was beautiful, Lord A’denne thought. The thin light upon the treed banks,the glittering waters. Everyone caught his breath after the climb, then Hafyddturned to Kai. He gestured down what appeared to be an old walkway that slopedup and curved out of sight, cliffs both below and above.
“Where does this lead?”
Kai shrugged. “Not to the same place twice. That is thetruth. I spent almost a fortnight here with Sainth, and soon gave up trying tounderstand the place myself. But Sainth was more tenacious, exploring everyinch of the island, coming to some understanding of the maze, if anyone couldunderstand it.” The little man shrugged. “Let me warn you-do not let yourcompany become divided, for you will not soon find each other again.”
Lord A’denne saw the black guards glance at each other, apprehensive,he thought.
“We don’t have a fortnight,” Hafydd said, and set out alongthe mossy walkway.
The trees were strange, yellow trumpet flowers hanging downfrom some, others with whirling silver bark and leaves the colors of sunset.Beneath their feet a carpet of leaves crunched as they walked. Light filtereddown through the stained sky-smoke from Hafydd setting the world afire-and thesilence of the place was lulling. Lord A’denne found himself slipping intodaydream, and he wanted nothing so much as to lie down and sleep.
Part of the bank had fallen away so that the pathwaynarrowed. Only one might pass at a time, so the entire company fetched upthere, sorting themselves into single file.
A’denne fell in behind Kai, the bootblack, Stil, behind him,followed by Beldor Renne and Hafydd’s last guard. The embankment had erodedaway over the years and in places become so narrow that Ufrra bore Kai upon hisback, while his barrow was moved with difficulty by Lord A’denne and Beldor,with Stil trying to help and getting in the way, more often than not.
At a particularly narrow point, the bank broke away beneathStillman’s feet, and the boy lost his balance and fell. Before Lord A’dennecould react, Beld threw himself after the boy, the two of them going over theedge. A’denne spun around to find Beldor clinging to a thick root, his fistlocked around the boy’s arm. A’denne and Ufrra hauled the two of them up, Beldcursing and swearing.
“Stay out of the damn way, boy!” the Renne said, brushingthe dirt from his clothes.
Lord A’denne realized that Kai was doing as he was-staringat Beld in wonder. The cripple and the nobleman shared a look. This was the boywho, a few days before, Beld had threatened to kill if Kai did not lead Hafyddto this very place. And now he had almost lost his own life trying to save him.Lord A’denne could not begin to explain that. The man had tried to murder hisown cousin. Why would he care about the life of a bootblack? Unless there wassomething about young Stillman that they did not know. Or something aboutHafydd’s plans.
They carried on for some time along the western shore of theisland. At last they found a stairway, though it led down. In half an hour theyarrived back at the quay on the south end of the island, having traveled in,more or less, a straight line north. Hafydd glared at Kai.
“It was not my doing,” the legless man said evenly. “That isthe nature of this place-paths lead where they should not, where they cannot,most would say.”
“And this mirror-you don’t know how to find it? Look at mewhen you answer.”
Kai gazed up at the knight. “If Sainth found it, he saidnothing to me-which was not unlike him, as you would know. I brought you here,but I can do nothing more than guide you back.”
The sun fell in among the hills in the distant west, settingthe river ablaze. Firewood was gathered and a rough camp pitched there on thebroken quay. Hafydd relented and gave Kai some of the mysterious seed to subduehis suffering, though Kai did not ask for it, nor did he ever complain. He wasclearly never going to show weakness to Hafydd.
“Tomorrow I will leave you and your servant behind with theboy,” Hafydd said to Kai over their meager supper. “A’denne, you will come withus, as will you, Lord Beldor.”
A’denne spread his blankets upon the hard stone and laid hisaching muscles down. He desperately needed sleep, but thought how poor suchsleep would be upon this hard mattress, then he knew no more. Morning was uponhim in what seemed like an instant.
The men broke their fast quickly, some bathing in thelagoon. Kai caught Lord A’denne’s attention as he readied himself for anotherstrange expedition.
“There is a flower growing here. I have seen it. It blossomsblood red and grows in little patches. It is the seed I require. If you have achance to steal some away …”
Lord A’denne nodded. It was a measure of Kai’s desperationthat he would beg such a favor-for certainly Hafydd would be in a rage to learnanybody supplied Kai with the herb. But A’denne did not care. He was going togive his life for something, and if it could not be Hafydd’s death, thenrelieving Kai’s agony would be his cause.
Hafydd had them bear two things with them that day-a woodenbox, which was trusted to Beldor Renne, and a large earthenware pot, stopperedby a cork sealed with wax. This burden Hafydd almost entrusted to A’denne, butthen changed his mind and gave it to one of his guards with an admonishment notto drop it. A’denne wondered what might be carried in these two containers,and whether it might be worth his while to send either of them over aprecipice-if such an opportunity were to be offered.
They went up the same stair, but at its crest found not thewalkway of the previous day but another stairway branching to the right. For amoment Hafydd gazed at this, his black-clad guards glancing one to the other,shifting about uncomfortably-showing some human weakness after all.
Hafydd made up his mind quickly and led his company up, hisguards scurrying to surround him. The path curved around the southern end ofthe island, running almost level for a time, then another set of stairs to
okthem up. After a time they came to a place where a stair branched and climbedwhat appeared to be a cleft in the natural stone. It was all but overgrown,roots, and even mature trees shouldering the stones apart, breaking through todaylight. Hafydd sent two men along the now-level pathway they had beenfollowing, to see if it continued much farther, but they did not return withinthe hour as he ordered.
“Shall I go search for them?” Hafydd’s guard captain asked.
“No,” Hafydd said, shaking his head. “I should have heededKai’s warning. Hopefully they will find their way to us again.” He pointed upthe stair. “We will try this way.”
They climbed the stair in the warm sun, wondering what mannerof place they had been carried to-where paths led off … but did not bring youback again.
Kai sat in his barrow in the shade of a tree that leanedover the ancient quay. Occasionally a golden flower would fall near him-like atrumpet dropping from the sky-though they made only the softest sound whenthey fell. The day so much resembled the one previous that Kai had the strangefeeling that days were merely repeating themselves. A thin light fell throughthe film of smoke that still spread over the sky, and a soft breeze from thesouth caressed his face and carried the musky scent of the river.
Ufrra busied himself about the encampment. His big handspiled firewood that he and Stil, the bootblack, had collected. Hafydd’s guardhad spent the morning pacing back and forth across the broken quay, but now hesat in the sun, his back against a large block of stone. He wore no helmet, andstrands of his black hair wafted in the breeze, tickling him into partialwakefulness-but then he would fall back asleep again.
A lull in the breeze hushed the whispering of the trees, andUfrra stopped his labors. Kai nodded to him, and the mute picked up a heavystick of firewood. He crossed to the slumbering guard without hesitation andraised the club high. Something warned the guard, and his eyes snapped open asUfrra swung his cudgel down. The guard rolled aside, the blow glancing off hisshoulder. He reached for his sword as he came to one knee, but a second stickcaught him hard on the temple and stopped him cold. For a moment he seemed tohang there, frozen in time, then Ufrra struck him on the skull with a secondblow, driving him to the cobbles. A third blow caved in the bone, and the guardlay still-still as the stone that made his deathbed. The boy, Stillman, stoodwide-eyed and panting, his bloodied club gripped by white fingers.