by Sean Russell
“It was a funeral filled with silence,” Tam said. “Baoresaid little in life and we paid tribute to him in kind. Without a word beingspoken, we poured Baore’s ashes into the river, and they were borne away like acloud on the wind.”
“I thought we were all safe after Hafydd went on the pyre,”Cynddl said softly. “But Baore never recovered after he met the nagar. I wouldhave done anything to save him, but sometimes a man can be drowning in sightand can’t be saved.” He turned away for a moment, mastering his feelings.
“I’m sorry to bring you this news, Cynddl.”
“Don’t apologize. Bad news will find its way, my people say.It spoils my own tidings a little.”
Tuath appeared across the green then, walking toward them, awinter spirit not yet banished by the change of season. She smiled at Tam andtook his hands in the Fael way. Then she took Cynddl’s hand in her own withboth pleasure and familiarity.
Cynddl looked very happy and proud. “We wed on New Year’sDay-”
“Beneath a canopy, in the snow,” Tuath said. “We thought itwould be appropriate, somehow.”
“Well, congratulations to you both!” Tam said, shakingCynddl by the hand and kissing Tuath on the cheek. “But will you still go aboutthe world collecting stories?”
“We’re Fael,” Tuath said, shrugging. “It is in our nature togo traveling.”
A meal was set at the traditional, low table, where theylounged upon cushions. Tam had almost forgotten how exotic Fael food was. Fynnolhad once said that after Fael cooking, all food in the Vale tasted thesame-mutton became indistinguishable from porridge. They ate and drank andtalked of people they knew.
“Alaan hasn’t been seen since you took your leave of thesouth, but Theason returned in the spring and reported that they found theirway into the Stillwater, where Alaan spent some months studying the greatenchantment before he remade the spell. When he finished, there was an earthtremor that was felt all across the south. Theason told us that Death is onceagain walled inside his kingdom.”
“And what of Elise? Has anyone seen her?” Tam asked, hopinghis inquiry sounded more casual than it was.
Cynddl shook his head. “No. But it has only been a fewmonths since she went off to Speaking Stone.”
Tam looked off to a group of Fael children playing on thegrass, turning cartwheels and climbing trees. “It isn’t the best thing for Llyaand Sianon to live there in isolation. Children need others of their kind.”
“That’s true, Tam,” Cynddl said, “but there are no others oftheir kind. I think other children would shun them.”
After the meal Tuath excused herself, and Cynddl took Tamfor a walk. Out of habit, they both carried bows and swords, though it didn’tseem likely that they would be needed there. The afternoon was warm, the newgreen spreading through the trees, warblers swarming from branch to branch.Among last season’s rotting leaves, fiddleheads curled up, and snow blossomsappeared, scattered over the brown.
“Tell me; how fares Fynnol?” Cynddl asked, as they walked.
“I think poor Fynnol has become a man divided, both wantingto stay here, safe in the Vale, and wanting to go back to the courts of thesouth. When he learns that you’re here I think he might decide to travel southwith you, back to the old kingdom.”
“Tuath and I should be glad of his company.” Cynddl fellsilent for a moment. “And you,Tam; how fare you after all your travels?”
“Well, I have not fared as poorly as Baore, but I will admitit hasn’t been an easy winter. I suffer nightmares, and even in the day my mindstrays often into dark paths-fighting the servants of Death in the Stillwater,standing before the final gate. I’m sometimes idle, and care little if I eator sleep or venture out into the clear air and sunlight.”
A look of concern crossed Cynddl’s face. “I have found manya warrior’s story, Tam, and I can tell you that few returned from battleunchanged. Men of heart and conscience do not pass through that crucibleunscathed. But most heal. Perhaps not entirely, but they do find a kind ofhealth again. I have had Tuath and Nann to help me, or I should have sufferedmore, I’m sure.”
“My grandfather said much the same. It’s been only a fewmonths, after all. Wounds don’t heal overnight.”
“Perhaps you should make a journey down the river. New horizonsmight draw your thoughts away from dark places. I’m sure Eber would welcome youat Speaking Stone, not to mention a certain lady who dwells there.”
“I’m not ready to leave the Vale just yet. I have thisstrange feeling, no doubt baseless, that I need to stay there to protect my people.Only Fynnol and I have fought in a war and understand how cruel outsiders canbe.”
Cynddl eyed him, weighing his words. “I think the Vale issafe, Tam. A’brgail’s Knights have secured the roads of the old kingdom, andnorth of Willowwand we saw only two families traveling north, probably insearch of gold and silver.”
“Two families we can find room for,” Tam said.
Cynddl seemed to be leading them somewhere, and finally hestopped by a small mound with an angled rock set into the earth at one end.
“Do you see this place,Tam?” Cynddl said. “It is where yourfather was buried.”
“How do you know?”
“I’m a story finder, Tam. His story is here.”
Tam felt a strange wash of emotion, as though he stood onthe beach and was struck by the surf.
“I can tell you the story of how he died,” Cynddl said, “ifyou wish.”
Tam felt his head shake, and he closed his eyes. “I know howhe died. He was murdered by brigands.”
“There is another story to be found here, Tam; how this manhad a wife and son he loved more than life.”
Tam felt his eyes grow moist and warm. “Thank you Cynddl,but that story is known to me.”
Cynddl nodded, gazing down at the sun-dappled grave, thescent of spring in the air. “Then there is one last thing to be done. I willsit here and tell the father his son’s story. How he journeyed down the riverand became a man among men of renown. How he gained the friendship of wanderersand noblemen, and traveled hidden roads to battle the servants of a sorcerer.”Cynddl sat down on a bit of rock that broke through the soft forest floor.
Tam turned aside and made his way through the birch trees.Once, he glanced back to see the story finder seated among the snow drops andfallen leaves, speaking softly in the sunlight.
As Tam walked, the forest began to blur-a world viewedthrough rain-streaked glass. The murmur of Cynddl’s ancient voice followed him,as though it issued up from the ground like a spring, whispering. Treesmurmured their secret tales, and as he drew near Telanon Bridge, these voicesflowed into the story of the river where they swirled away, spinning endlesslysouth toward the speaking sea.
FB2 document info
Document ID: fbd-b85c8b-46fc-5142-12bd-b556-0454-bfa38e
Document version: 1
Document creation date: 13.08.2013
Created using: calibre 0.9.43, Fiction Book Designer, FictionBook Editor Release 2.6.6 software
Document authors :
Sean Russell
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