Valderen [The Second Part of Farnor's Tale]

by Roger Taylor

  Marna did not get an opportunity to reply. ‘We must assume he will, no matter what she thinks, and act accordingly,’ Levrik said.

  Engir nodded. ‘You're right, of course. Yehna, put on her boots, get back to where we found her and lay a false trail. Don't take too long, just ...’ He shrugged. ‘... take it up towards that escarpment we passed and lose it in the rocks. We'll move up to the lookout we set up yesterday.'

  Swept along, rather than agreeing with this idea, Marna found herself exchanging boots with Yehna and, despite Engir's earlier request, surrounded by the native language of these mysterious travellers. Then Yehna was gone, and Marna was left walking with the others to some unknown destination and peering down at her temporary new boots. They were rather small for her and squashed her toes, but she could walk well enough. In fact she was not a little pleased to be wearing such fine boots. For they were indeed of a remarkable quality and beautifully made.

  The observation prompted her to look at her new companions more closely. Their clothes were travel-stained but, like Yehna's boots, they were well made and of a high quality. So, too, was the equipment on the horses that they were leading. And the horses themselves were finer than any she had ever seen before.

  She took hold of Engir's arm as they trudged silently along. ‘Who are you?’ she asked, yet again. ‘Where do you come from? What are you doing here? Why ...'

  'We're Nilsson's countrymen,’ Engir replied, before she could continue. ‘At least Levrik and I have that dubious pleasure. Yehna and Aaren come from a neighbouring country. But both are a long way from here.'

  'What have you come here for?’ Marna persisted.

  'To find Nilsson, and his men. To see if they can be brought to account for something they did,’ Engir replied straightforwardly.

  Marna remembered Engir's reference to messages for the king. ‘You're from the king, aren't you?’ she burst out, clapping her hands together. ‘Are you ...’ She snapped her fingers excitedly as she struggled for the word. ‘... Mercenaries? Paid by the king to free us all?’ As suddenly as her hopes had risen, however, they fell. ‘But what can four of you do?'

  Even Levrik smiled at the tone of her voice. Engir raised his hand a little to indicate that she should not make so much noise. ‘We're here with your king's authority,’ he said. ‘But we're not mercenaries. We're professional soldiers owing our first allegiance to the peoples of our homelands. And you're quite correct, there's very little four of us can do against Nilsson's band as it is now.’ His expression became anxious. ‘Especially with this Rannick appearing on the scene.’ He fell silent, and Marna felt loath to press him further.

  Then, without any spoken command, the horses were left in a small clearing, and the walkers continued, moving always higher up the tree-lined sides of the valley. Eventually they stopped at another carefully concealed camp. From this one, however, a gap between the trees enabled them to see along the valley without making themselves visible. Marna stared at a small, isolated cottage in the distance until she eventually recognized it as her home. Looking at it from this unusual vantage made her feel very strange.

  'When Yehna gets back, I'd like you to tell us about Rannick again.’ Engir's voice broke into her reverie. ‘And the boy, Farnor. The one who disappeared.'

  Marna turned to him. ‘He's not a boy,’ she said flatly. ‘He's as near a man as makes no difference. And he's my friend.’ Her face twisted in distress but she did not weep as she added, ‘And he might well be dead by now.'

  Engir nodded sympathetically. ‘I meant no offence,’ he said, quietly. ‘And I'm afraid there are many people dead in the wake of Nilsson and his men. But please tell us your story again. I know it'll be painful, but it's very important.'

  Marna made no answer, but turned to look along the valley towards her home again. Engir did not press his request.

  It was some time before Yehna returned, and though she thanked Marna for the loan of her boots, she took them off and put on her own with conspicuous relief, at the same time shooting a sour glance at the two men, both of whom were grinning.

  Although she had been treated courteously, even kindly, Marna could not help but feel like a gawky outsider as she watched the subtle interplay between the four companions. They seemed always to know what each needed of the other, even though they rarely spoke. And there were equally subtle things about the way they moved; a studied effortlessness. Yehna, for example, was barely flushed when she returned, even though she must have walked a considerable distance.

  Marna had little time to ponder these observations however, as shortly after Yehna's return, Engir looked at her significantly.

  She told her tale again.

  This time however, she found herself being frequently interrupted and closely questioned about various details which she had passed over as being inconsequential: what Farnor had said about his mysterious contact with the creature; what Gryss had said about the fiery column that Rannick had conjured up, and what she had felt when she saw and touched the flame in the tower room. And too, they probed into the few words that Rannick had uttered about his future plans. Only their politeness prevented her from losing her temper at this meticulous attention.

  However, as her tale unfolded, she noticed as she had at its first telling that a tension began to pervade the group. Aaren spoke softly and rapidly in her own language. Engir frowned and nodded towards Marna. ‘Their language, Aaren,’ he said, with some reproach. ‘All the time now, unless we run into difficulties.'

  Aaren cast an irritable look at no one in particular, then spoke again. ‘It's so,’ she said, still softly, as if afraid of eavesdroppers. ‘I've smelt it for days. Ever since we began to hear about this Lord Rannick. Ever since we learned that that broken troop we were closing with had suddenly miraculously recovered and begun raiding the countryside.’ She levelled a finger at Engir.

  'And so have you, if you'd only own up to it.'

  Engir turned away from her and slapped his thighs agitatedly, as if both anxious and reluctant to deny this accusation. ‘I ...’ he began, but his voice tailed off almost immediately.

  'Riders.’ Levrik's whisper silenced any further debate. He was pointing up the valley. The others turned to follow his gaze. It took Marna some time to see the tiny, distant dots, but when she did, she stood up and craned forward to get a better view. Yehna gently pulled her down again.

  'They can't possibly see me from here, through all these trees,’ Marna protested.

  Yehna merely placed a finger to her lips. ‘Be still, be silent,’ she said softly, but with irresistible command.

  There was a long silence, broken only by bird song and the sound of the trees moving in the breeze. Marna found herself almost holding her breath. Then she drew it in sharply. The riders had stopped by her cottage.

  'What's the matter?’ Engir asked, without turning round.

  Marna told him.

  The riders began to spread out. ‘They'll find her tracks in minutes,’ Aaren said.

  Engir nodded. ‘Between us, we saw all three of them die,’ he said. Marna looked at him, puzzled by the remark. But the others seemed to understand. ‘And He was destroyed too.’ He struck his chest. ‘And we knew they'd gone.’ He laid a heavy emphasis on the word, knew.

  'But they're back,’ Aaren said urgently. Or one of them, at least.'

  Engir's eyes narrowed and he shook his head. ‘It couldn't be,’ he said.

  Aaren took his arm and shook him. ‘Damn you, I know that,’ she hissed. ‘But it is. What's got into you? You're not going to tell me you haven't felt it in everything we've seen these past days. And now there's this girl's tale. Face it or we're all finished.'

  Engir turned on her. ‘They're all dead,’ he said angrily and unequivocally.

  The two of them glared at one another. Marna watched this bizarre turn of events in both bewilderment and trepidation.

  'They're dead. But it's here.’ Levrik, still watching the now scattering riders, ended the co
nfrontation with this softly spoken, enigmatic comment. Engir looked at him sharply, but did not speak. ‘It was so focused in those three and Him that you've forgotten what it is,’ Levrik went on. ‘It's everywhere. All around us, all the time. Available for those who know how to use it, for good or ill. Unfortunately, someone here—this Rannick—has learned how to use it and is using it for considerable ill.’ He turned to Engir. ‘And, equally unfortunately, it leaves us with something of a problem.'

  'That's an understatement,’ Aaren said caustically.

  'What's the matter?’ Marna asked, unable to remain silent in the middle of all this strange concern.

  The four exchanged glances, then Engir spoke to her, his voice gentle, but full of grim resignation. ‘We understand a little about the power that your Rannick uses, Marna. We've ... met it before. I was reluctant to accept that it was here again, but ...’ He shrugged regretfully. ‘It's a terrible thing,’ he went on. ‘Not something any of us would willingly meet again. And not something that can necessarily be dealt with by simple force of arms. It needs someone with the same skill.’ He cast a sidelong glance at Levrik. ‘The problem that Levrik spoke of is that none of us here has that skill, nor can we bring such a person here without a journey of many months.'

  Marna's commonsense completed his tale, unbidden. ‘But he's getting stronger every day,’ she said forcefully. ‘All manner of people are coming to join him, and raiding parties are going out every few days. We can't wait months before we do something.'

  'They've found them.’ Levrik's voice again broke into the discussion.

  Marna looked back up towards her home. She could see the tiny dots converging. ‘Will they find us?’ she asked, suddenly fearful, her mind filling with images of the man she had just killed.

  Engir shook his head. ‘Probably not,’ he said. ‘But you must do everything we tell you, immediately and without question, do you understand?’ Marna nodded, now not so much the gawky outsider as a nervous waif.

  While Levrik continued his relentless watch on the approaching riders, the newcomers returned again to their wider difficulties.

  'I can carry on with my journey to the capital,’ Marna offered. ‘Take your messages with me. The king could send the army.’ She brightened. ‘Or we could all go. If you can't do anything here on your own, there's not much point staying, is there?'

  There was another exchange of glances amongst her listeners.

  'I wish you'd all stop doing that,’ Marna flared indignantly. ‘Looking at one another as though I'm some kind of idiot.'

  Engir raised his hands appeasingly. ‘I'm sorry, Marna,’ he said. ‘It's just that you seem to have led such a sheltered life here. There's so much ...'

  'It's not sheltered any more,’ Marna retorted angrily, before he could continue. ‘Foulness has come from the north, from the south, and from within. These last two months or so might as well have been twenty years. Now tell me what's bothering you, straight out, and how I can help, or let me get on my way, and I'll help myself and my friends as best I can.'

  Levrik cast her a brief, unreadable glance, the two women looked awkwardly at one another, and Engir nodded his head, genuinely chastened by this outburst. ‘You're right, Marna,’ he said. ‘You'll have to make allowances for our strange ways, and the strange times. The past couple of months might have been bad for you, but over the last few days we've had to come to terms with facing something—something truly awful—that we'd all thought finished and gone for ever years ago.'

  Marna was in no mood to make concessions. ‘Shall we all go to the king, then?’ she demanded.

  This time there was no debate amongst the four, silent or otherwise. ‘Your land has been very prosperous for a long time, Marna,’ Engir replied. ‘A peaceful place, as I imagine your own valley has been. Your king is a just and kindly man. But ...’ He hesitated, as if what he had to say were deeply distasteful. ‘Because of the very peacefulness, there's been no need, no inclination, for your people to bear arms, to maintain the military skills that helped your forebears to build and sustain this very peace. Whatever army the king ever had is little more than a ceremonial guard now.’ He leaned forward. ‘It was only fear of the pursuers they knew were following that kept Nilsson and his troop moving on.'

  'They fled from four of you?’ Marna said disbelievingly.

  Engir smiled weakly. ‘They fled from what they'd done and the accounting that they knew would be demanded of them sooner or later. Just a whiff of our very existence in the wind was enough to galvanize them. To rob them of any peace.'

  'And now?’ Marna asked.

  Engir looked at the distant riders. ‘And now, somehow, they've regained their confidence, their morale, and the whole land ... perhaps more ... lies hostage to what's happening here. Nilsson's a military man, a capable and ambitious one. He can and will use terror as a weapon of power. He's had a rare instructor. He knows that it'll take very little to subdue this entire country. And with Rannick behind him he won't hesitate to move even further afield.’ He had to force his final words out. ‘He understands those who can use the power better even than we do. And what we shake and tremble before, he'll have opened his arms to and embraced.'

  * * *

  Chapter 20

  Marna felt herself go cold at the almost fatalistic acceptance in Engir's words. The mountains that had sheltered and held secure the only home she had ever known seemed now to be like the walls of a cruel prison, and the warm sunlight pervading the high lookout mocked her with its bright contrast to her dark fears. ‘We can't just do ... nothing,’ she said, more plaintively than she had intended.

  For a long time no one answered, then, as if they had reached a conclusion after holding a prolonged debate, Levrik said, ‘We kill him then?'

  Marna started at this unexpected and blunt announcement, though none of the others showed any signs of surprise.

  'I can't see any other alternative,’ Yehna said after a while. ‘If he wants ... Marna ... here, then he's got plenty of down-to-earth appetites left. And that means he's a long way short of being totally consumed by the power yet.'

  'And thus vulnerable,’ Aaren concluded, a knife appearing in her hand.

  Marna suddenly felt herself the centre of attention again. It took her a little while to appreciate the message she was being given. When she did she waved her hands in denial. ‘No, no!’ she said emphatically. ‘I couldn't do it. Last night I thought perhaps I could, but I was wrong.'

  'You've killed one man already,’ Aaren said starkly.

  Marna's mouth dropped open as she drew in a sharp breath. Her shocked reaction was reflected, albeit less visibly, in Levrik and Engir. They glanced at one another to confirm that they could play no part in what was to follow.

  Marna blasted out her response in a voice full of both anger and reproach. ‘That was an accident, for mercy's sake.'

  Aaren shook her head. ‘It was your better judgement,’ she said calmly. ‘Your life was threatened and you did what was necessary, quickly and efficiently.'

  'No!'

  'You didn't kill him?’ Aaren said, eyebrows raised.

  The two men watched, helpless as Marna looked from side to side, as if for some way to escape this unexpected assault. ‘You know I did, you bitch,’ she snarled, finding none. ‘But it was an accident. I didn't mean ...'

  'That's twice you've said that, and twice you've been wrong,’ Aaren interrupted, making no response to the abuse. ‘I'm not saying you enjoyed it, or that you weren't sickened by it, but don't keep blaming it on some chance happening. Face what you did, girl, you'll survive it, and while it's unlikely you'll ever be happy about it, you'll be the better for it. Just thank your ancestors for breeding wits enough into you to make sure you could do the right thing when you had to.’ She levelled a finger at Marna. ‘And you don't need me to tell you that you did do the right thing, do you?’ she said. ‘Or that you'd do it again if you had to.'

  The two women stared at one another. Le
vrik and Engir waited. Then Marna let out a noisy breath, and sagged. ‘I don't know, I don't know,’ she said unconvincingly. ‘I ... I couldn't do it to Rannick, all the same.'

  'Fancy him, do you?’ Aaren asked.

  Surprisingly, Marna replied without either hesitation or rancour. ‘Up here, no,’ she said. ‘But close to ...’ She shook her head, and coloured a little. ‘I don't know.’ She paused for a moment, then suddenly, she was once more on her back, fighting against a choking blackness and thrusting her hands up into the figure straddled over her. The vision, intense though it was, passed as suddenly as it had come, leaving her shivering and nauseous. A hand came forward to help her, but she brushed it aside almost angrily and forced herself to speak. ‘Anyway,’ she managed, ‘doing something in the heat of the moment is one thing. Doing it ...’ She gritted her teeth. ‘Killing someone in cold blood is another. Even Rannick, and knowing what he's done. I couldn't do it. I've known him too long. Part of me still ... feels sorry for him.'

  Engir interrupted. ‘He killed your friend's parents and was quite prepared to take you as his woman by force ...'

  'I know that,’ Marna snapped, rounding on him viciously. ‘I didn't say it wouldn't be the best thing for us all if he were dead, or even that I'd be particularly unhappy about it. But I couldn't do it. Least of all, posing as his ... lover.’ She waved her hand towards Aaren and Yehna as she turned away from him. ‘They understand,’ she said, adding under her breath, ‘You stupid man!'

  There was a long silence, during which only Levrik seemed to be watching the distant riders. His three companions sat in silent preoccupation.

  As the heat of her unexpected confrontation faded, other thoughts came to Marna. ‘Is there nothing else that can be done?’ she asked hesitantly. ‘Four of you can't do anything against him. He's got men, his own powers—and perhaps this creature.'

  Engir shook his head. ‘No,’ he replied. ‘You said it yourself in all innocence. There isn't time. We're too far from any kind of help, and this place is like a festering boil. If we don't lance it, and fast, what you've seen so far will seem like a pleasant dream compared to what will happen next.'