by Sean Russell
“Are you Alaan?” the captain asked.
“I am.”
“Lady Beatrice and Lord Toren invite you to join them, ifyou would,” the captain said. “They have pitched pavilions by the river.” Hegestured south. “They have also asked me to find the men who felled Hafydd, forthey would give them their thanks.”
Alaan glanced over at Tam and the others. “Maybe sleep willhave to wait.”
The Renne guards had brought horses with them, and eventhough it was but a short walk, they all rode to the Renne camp. On the waythey passed the spontaneous fair that had grown up beside the river.Men-at-arms were returning from the battlefield on the eastern shore, all of themwelcomed and given drink and food. Women were searching anxiously among the mendisembarking from boats, and many an unself-conscious reunion took place.
They entered a narrow, tree-lined lane that ran along besidethe river. Not far off, a flock of crows swarmed from tree to tree, and in amoment a solitary figure appeared. He’d lost his great hat, but Crowheart metthem still wearing his leather coat festooned with the treasures his crows hadbrought him. He looked out at them from behind his inky beard, and smiled, deepcrow’s-feet appearing at the corners of his eyes.
“And where is it you go, Master Crowheart?” Alaan asked.
He gestured with a staff. “There is still much to be seen inthis world. I have concentrated too much of my effort in one area, of late,” hesaid.
“Beware,” Alaan said, leaning upon his pommel and smilingdown at the traveler. “If you are descended from Sainth, you might neversettle.”
“And was Sainth unhappy with his lot?”
The smile wavered on Alaan’s face. “Sometimes.”
“But I suppose the same can be said of men who spend alltheir days in one place.”
“You can be sure of that,” Fynnol joined in.
“Then I will take my chances. Fare well, Alaan,” Crowheartsaid. Then he made bow to the others. “Perhaps I will come to the north one dayand visit the lakes.”
“You would be welcome,” Tam said.
He saluted them with his staff and set off, his company ofcrows crying and fluttering from tree to tree. Tam and his companions watchedhim go, until he stepped off the road, no doubt to avoid the festivities ahead.
“Well, we shall not meet another like that,” Cynddl said.
“What will become of him?” Fynnol wondered. “He seems tobelong nowhere.”
“I’m afraid you’re right, Fynnol,” Alaan said.
“Maybe he is like Cynddl’s people,” Baore said, “at home everywhere.”
“My people are at home because we carry our village with us,”Cynddl responded. “Crowheart has no possessions and only his noisy crows forcompanions.”
“And yet, even a crow finds a mate and makes a nest one day,”Alaan said. “We might hope the same for Rabal.”
They spurred their horses on. Across the river, the pyrestill burned, a dark pillar of smoke rising into the sky. Tam couldn’t bear thesight of it, and thought how easily he could be there, among the silent dead,staring empty-eyed at the smoke stained sky.
The Renne camp was in a field behind a line of trees.Pavilions had been pitched in the shade, and guards formed an almost solid ringaround the area. Over the pavilions, banners fluttered, black swans wingingacross the sky blue.
They were led past the guards and into the presence of LadyBeatrice, who rested beneath a spreading oak. Immediately, she rose from herchair to greet them, and Toren Renne joined her. His arm was in a sling, andhis face was pasty-pale, but he seemed otherwise unharmed by his ordeal.
“So here is the mysterious Alaan,” she said. “Toren tells meyou have been the prime mover in this war-the enemy of Hafydd and his …allies.”
“I have been the enemy of Hafydd, but so have many others.Lord Toren, Lady Elise, Lady Llyn, my friends from the north. Cynddl, of the Fael.”
“Yes,” she said, regarding Alaan’s companions. “I understandthat I’ve met them, though they were costumed at the time.”
“It was Tam, I’m told, who brought down Hafydd, in the end,”Toren said.
Lady Beatrice took Tam by the hands. “My family owes you agreat debt.”
“It was just a lucky arrow,” Tam said. “And it would neverhave even reached him, if Alaan and Elise hadn’t been taking up all hisattention.”
“Modesty is a virtue,” she said, and kissed Tam on thecheek, “but such deeds should not go unrecognized. We’ve been told that youbegan your journey to acquire horses …” She nodded to Toren, who waved hisgood hand at someone. From behind a pavilion came grooms leading fourhorses-and what horses they were!
“These are the finest saddle horses in our stables,” Torensaid. “Swift and of admirable temperament. Of course if you would rather horsesfor the tourney, I can offer you others.”
“We aren’t men-at-arms,” Tam said. “We’re just travelers, toofar from home.” He bowed to Lady Beatrice and Lord Toren. “This is a generousgift.”
“Hardly a beginning,” Lady Beatrice said. “You will each sitwith me for a time and tell me what more we might do for you. And PrinceMichael has something in mind for you as well. He said he traveled far with youand assures me that your part in all of this was great.”
She let go of Tam’s hands and took the hands of each inturn, kissing them on both cheeks. “You I remember,” she said to Baore. “Youwere a giant then, and your stature has only increased. Thank you.”
Her smile turned almost mischievous when she stood beforeFynnol. “When last we met you were a highwayman, and now look what’s become ofyou!”
“After what I’ve seen, ma’am, I shall be most happy toreturn to my former trade.”
“Stealing kisses, wasn’t it?” Lady Beatrice laughed. “Well,I remove my former ban. You may steal all the kisses you can bear. And you mayhave a place in my hall for all the rest of your days, if you wish. Your witwould be welcome.”
“I thank you, Lady Beatrice, though I fear I’ve lost my wit.I feel nothing but a terrible sorrow, and loss.”
“So we all feel, good Fynnol, but that will pass in time,and our laughter will return. I have not seen a winter yet that spring did notfollow.”
She came next to Cynddl. “Ruadan? Of the magic pipes, Ithink.”
Cynddl gave a small bow of acknowledgment.
Lady Beatrice kissed his cheeks. “But it is not you who capturedthe heart of a lady, I’m told?”
Cynddl glanced at Tam.
Lady Beatrice pretended not to notice. “You are honoredamong your people,” she said. “And we would be honored to have you ply your artbeneath our roof. There is a great story to tell, now, and I’ve only heardparts of it.”
“It will take me some time to find, then order it all, butwhen I do, Lady Beatrice, I shall be most happy to come to Castle Renne andtell the tale of the Swans’ War.”
“I look forward to it.”
More gifts were brought then. Mail and helms from TorenRenne, shields and swords from Fondor. Lord Kel sent them saddles and tack,all of the finest craftsmanship. Ladies gave them bolts of fabric and clothingfit for noblemen. Such riches were never seen in the Vale-not all in one place,anyway-and the Vale-men were overwhelmed.
Minstrels played, and a table was set beneath the branchesso that the travelers could rest and eat and slake their thirst. The lateafternoon wore on to evening, and the sun plunged into the western hills,turning the sky into a pool of red. There was a murmur among the Renne by theriver, where boats were still landing and departing, and then a ghostly formappeared in the last light. Tam jumped up from the table, as everyone stared.
“Elise?” he said.
“Tam,” she answered, her voice so soft he could barely hear.Without seeming to notice the others, she came and buried her face against theValeman, her hands gently on his chest. She seemed small and fragile to him ashe took her in his arms, and she was cold as a winter stream.
“Are you … healed?” Tam asked.
&nbs
p; “As much as I can be,” she said. And then she pulled gentlyaway. “I have something I must do.” She turned to the others, her eyes, likemoons, unsettling everyone. “Alaan … if you would go with me.”
Alaan nodded immediately, not even asking where or why. Theywere on horses in a moment and riding off. Tam stood watching them go, unableto hide his distress, then he realized that Baore stood beside him, lookingjust as unhappy. The big Valeman put a hand on Tam’s shoulder and tried tosmile at him. For a moment the two friends regarded each other and turned backto the table. There was no animosity in the look Baore had given him, just a senseof loss and sadness. Tam wondered if Baore understood that Wyrr had given hisdaughter this gift-that men would serve her out of love-but that it came with aprice: she loved none in return. The heart didn’t care much for truth, Tamthought. Baore might harbor hopes despite what he knew.
“What will the Renne do now that the war is over?” Fynnolasked, trying to pick up the thread of the conversation.
“The war is never over here,” Kel growled. “We have beenfighting the Wills for generations-”
“And it is time we stopped,” Toren interrupted. He hadn’tsaid much their entire visit, and Tam suspected he was in pain.
“You tried to put an end to it, cousin,” Kel said, “butthere was a war anyway. There is a lesson there.”
“Yes, and the lesson is that Menwyn was not the man weshould have been dealing with, nor was the late Prince of Innes. Lord Carraland Prince Michael are men of great integrity.”
“I think you’re right,” Fondor said quietly, “but what oftheir sons? Their grandsons? This feud has skipped a generation before, but itis like a fire in the forest that goes underground. It smolders there, sometimesfor years, then springs up again. We might have peace during our lifetimes,but the feud will not go away. It never has.”
“It is but an echo of an ancient feud,” Cynddl said, “goingback to a struggle between sorcerers who were born before the mountainsformed. It’s a story one can find in some form or other the entire length ofthe Wynnd.”
Toren’s jaw stiffened. “I won’t accept that this is someaffliction of the Wynnd Valley-a pestilence that abides in the soil. We have tomake an end to it.”
“And how do you propose to make a lasting peace?” Fondorasked.
“It is all a matter of what we are willing to give up,”Toren said.
Dease woke just after dusk, and went unsteadily out of histent, into the cooling air of evening. A faint wash of color still hung in thewestern sky, and the brighter stars appeared overhead. Dease tried to shake offthe sleep that clung to him, his mind fuzzy and his temper foul. He had washedand changed out of his smoking clothes, eaten a little, and fallen asleep. Thewhole journey on the river seemed like a nightmare to him now. He rememberedthe monster in the chamber. How could that have been real? But it was. Deasehad seen too much that was strange and would be unbelievable to anyone who didnot see it themselves. It made him feel a little mad-like Toren’s father,afraid of the darkness because of the visions he saw.
“Dease?” His cousin emerged from the shadow of a tree.
“Fondor! Are you well?”
“Unharmed, but for a mass of bruises. Hardly worth a mention.”He looked off across the river to the still-burning pyre. Dark smoke twisted up,then bent south like a dark river among the stars.
“The casualties were many?” Dease asked.
“Yes, though we lost few among our own family. Menwyn Willswas killed, and Vast seems to have escaped. I don’t know how. Many among thedead were burned beyond recognition, but Vast’s armor was distinctive.”
“We’ll find him soon enough.”
“Yes, I suppose.” Fondor still stared at the fire. “Dease,when Samul thought he was being taken to his execution he asked for you. Whenhe learned that you had gone off he told me that you were part of the plot tokill Toren. He said that you had realized it was Arden in the window, andwouldn’t shoot, which was when Beld knocked you senseless, then killed Arden,believing it was Toren.”
Dease took a deep breath.
“Don’t say anything,” Fondor interrupted. “I have only onequestion for you. Are you a threat to Toren or any other Renne?”
Dease closed his eyes. He wanted to weep though he didn’t understandwhy. “No,” he said with difficulty. “I’m not.”
“Not even if Toren seeks peace with the Wills?”
“He has my blessing to do whatever he thinks is right. Iwill not oppose him in word or deed.” Dease did feel tears on his cheeks then.
“That’s all the answer I need,” Fondor said.
“Who else knows of Samul’s accusation?” Dease asked.
“Lady Beatrice. No one else. Toren has asked for ourpresence within the hour. A council of some sort.” Fondor turned and started towalk away.
“Fondor?” Dease said, stopping his cousin. “What will youtell Lady Beatrice?”
“That I confronted you with Samul’s accusation and that youdenied it. I will say I believed you.”
“But that isn’t the truth.”
“She has had enough pain, Dease. Enough disappointment.Within the hour, Cousin. Don’t be late.” And he walked off into the gatheringdark. For a long while Dease stood looking at the flames on the distant shore.Later he would say that the smoke stung his eyes, though that was not the trutheither.
Lord Carral wondered if he would ever hear music in thenight sounds again. The frogs sang. The insects hummed. Wind stirred andmurmured sleepily in the trees. None of these things enchanted him as theyonce had. He had heard music in everything-once.
Darkness had fallen. He could tell by the cooling air.Carral walked alone in Llyn’s garden, his thoughts a jumble. He had lost hisheart, there was no doubt of that. But the woman he had lost it to was lesscertain. Oh, she loved him, that was certain, but there was another. She hadnever said it, but Carral wasn’t utterly foolish with love. She loved TorenRenne as much as she loved him. Perhaps more.
Lord Carral had so many different reactions to this that hecould not keep them straight. He loved Llyn utterly and could understand whyanyone would feel the same-even someone young and imposing, like Toren. Ofcourse Toren had never seen Llyn. Or perhaps it would be more accurate to saythat she had never allowed Toren to see her and likely never would. To Carral,who had never seen another human being, this obsession with another’s appearancewas incomprehensible. He had spent his life among the sighted, and had oftenbeen surprised to find men attentive to the most tedious women, only to be toldthat they were beautiful. But this refusal actually to be in the same room withsomeone did seem a rather large impediment to a marriage. Toren might feel thesame way.
But then Llyn might have been waiting for Toren to declarehimself, to tell her that the burns that had forced her into exile withinCastle Renne meant nothing to him. And perhaps that was the truth.
Carral shook his head. His mind seemed to whirl through a cycleof thoughts over and over again, to no avail. This cycle of thoughts led him toone conclusion over and over again. Llyn would never marry him while there washope that Toren felt toward her as she did toward him.
He should have felt anger toward or resentment of Toren-hisrival for Llyn’s affections-but he wasn’t sure that Toren was even aware ofthis rivalry. The young nobleman certainly wasn’t acting like a man who feltthreatened by some other. He went about his business as though this neverentered his thoughts, visiting Llyn with the same infrequency that heapparently always had.
Nor did Carral feel any anger or resentment toward Llyn. Intruth, he felt pity for her. She was tortured by this division of loyalties,by her love for two men.
But I am the one who loves her utterly, Carralthought. She must see that. She was sighted, after all.
He stopped suddenly. Someone hovered a few feet away; hecould hear their breathing.
“Father?” The voice was so small he could barely make outthe word.
“Father?” the voice said again, no stronger.
“El
ise?”
Footsteps sounded on the gravel, but they were not Elise’s-werethey? She was in his arms, damp and musky, as though she had come out of theriver. Her hair was cold and moist, a mass of uncombed curls. He breathed inthe scent of her all the same, felt her in his arms, thin and fragile.
“You-are-alive, you-are-alive, you-are-alive,” he said overand over.
They did not move for the longest time, but stood holdingeach other close. Carral drank in her presence, felt the air move in and out ofher lungs. He thought he could almost feel the beating of her heart.
“Father … I’m sorry I didn’t send word that I was alive,but-”
“You never need apologize to me, Elise. You wouldn’t havedone it without good reason.”
They were silent again for a time.
“I must go away again,” Elise whispered, her voice ladenwith regret.
“Will you be gone for long? I’ve missed you so.”
Elise pulled back a little, so she could see his face,Carral thought. “There is no place for me here-”
“But we’ll go back to Braidon Castle-”
“I can’t go back.” She drew him near again, pressing hercheek against his chest as she had when she was a child.
“But Elise, I will take up my place as the head of our family.I will need your help. And you are my heir-”
“I renounce this foolishness,” she said emphatically. “Thereis no throne, Father. There never will be. I can’t live here among our people.Too many know what I have done-what I’ve become. I made a bargain with a nagar,father. There is no going back.”
Carral felt tears, not just at what she said but at thedespair in her voice. “Where will you go?”
“North, to a house on the river. It is a place where I mightheal, and there are two children there who will need my guidance.”
“I’ll visit you there if you’ll let me.”
“I would and gladly, but it is a hidden place. A place youcannot find.”
“A place only Alaan might travel?” he said.
“Alaan, and a few others.”