Nandor (The Nandor Tales Book 2)

by Martin Owton

  “I will try,” said Edith.

  “And me,” said Maldwyn.

  “No doubt Glynis will be able to find what we need, but it may take a while,” said Lady Alice. “What else should we do?”

  “Choose the men to go with us, pack travelling rations and warm clothes,” said Aron.

  “And you must write to His Majesty to explain why you cannot immediately present yourself to swear allegiance, and to the Earl of Marenin to explain what has become of his bride,” said Lady Alice to Maldwyn. “Tumas will assist you, that’s what he is there for. Don’t frown like that, you’ll give yourself lines.” She turned back to Aron. “There is one member of the family you have not yet seen.”

  Aron looked up at her words. Preoccupied as he’d been with Edith, he’d forgotten Lady Alice’s new child. His child.

  He followed Lady Alice down the corridor and up a narrow staircase. They halted at a door and Aron recognised the room as the one he had been lodged in after he’d been poisoned. A cradle stood in the middle of the floor being rocked by a nursemaid who looked up as they entered.

  “I’ve just fed her,” said the nursemaid. “But she doesn’t want to sleep.”

  “Perhaps she knew she had a visitor coming,” said Lady Alice. She stepped forward and gently lifted her daughter from the cradle.

  “This is Mara,” she said and held her up for Aron to look at. Aron leaned forward and Mara opened wide blue eyes to stare at him.

  “She’s got your eyes,” he said. And just as well to avoid any awkward questions. I dare not even think of her as mine.

  He stretched out a finger to Mara, she grabbed it with enthusiasm and gurgled happily. Lady Alice smiled and, it seemed to Aron, her eyes held more than a mother’s delight in her child. She is a widow now.

  Mara let go of Aron’s finger and reached for his nose, but Lady Alice turned and laid her back in her cradle. “We mustn’t keep her awake or we’ll all pay for it later tonight. She is a fine healthy child, thanks be to Iduna, with a very loud voice, just like her sisters.”

  He looked into the cradle at his daughter now happily distracted with a woollen lamb. She has a better life here than I could give her, he thought. I must take every care to preserve that. That’s almost as important as rescuing Celaine.

  .

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “This is utter foolishness, my Lady,” said Glynis, a flinty edge in her voice.

  “But you know of the practice?” said Lady Alice.

  “I know of it,” said Glynis. “And I know how dangerous it is. I wonder if you do?” She turned her cold gaze on Aron.

  “I’ve done it myself,” said Aron. “I couldn’t have got Maldwyn out of Sarazan without it.”

  “And that makes it safe?” Her gaze grew colder. “A lad I knew died doing it.”

  “In Nandor?” asked Lady Alice.

  “In Nandor,” said Glynis. “It was years ago. Before you were born.”

  “What happened?” asked Edith, blue eyes wide. “How did he die?”

  Glynis glared at her. “He never woke up,” she said after a pause.

  Aron said nothing, but remembered the bowl of golden apples in Iduna’s bower, and her words about others being abroad in the spirit world.

  “I don’t see that we have any choice in the matter,” said Lady Alice. “Unless you have another suggestion.” She looked Glynis squarely in the eye, holding her gaze until Glynis turned aside.

  “No, my Lady,” said Glynis.

  “Then it is decided,” said Lady Alice. “Find the mushrooms as soon as possible.”

  “Yes, my Lady,” said Glynis with a sour look on her face.

  That probably doesn’t happen very often, Aron thought as he watched Glynis stalk away.

  “Is it dangerous as she says?” asked Lady Alice once Glynis was out of earshot.

  “It may be,” said Aron. “If you go in idly, seeking whatever you may find. If you go with your mind focused on what you seek, then I believe you will find it and return safely.” He turned to the window and looked out at the morning bustle in the courtyard below. Glynis descended the keep steps, shoulders hunched, marching toward the gatehouse.

  “We really have no choice,” said Lady Alice. “I don’t like putting anyone else at risk, but there’s nothing else we can do.”

  “Unless you have a wizard to hand,” said Aron.

  “The nearest is in Sarazan, and I don’t think that the Duke is ready to move that far yet,” said Lady Alice.

  “You don’t think he was behind this?” said Aron.

  “No, though I wouldn’t put it beyond Lord Hercival. But the Duke has him on a very short leash these days.”

  “The shorter the better,” said Aron. He remembered the Saxish assassins that Lord Hercival had sent after him.

  “Did you dream of Celaine again last night?” asked Edith.

  “Yes. But it made little sense. I think she has been scared for so long and so short of sleep that she is losing touch with the world around her.” He looked up at Lady Alice and saw the pain pass across her face. Perhaps I should have chosen different words, he thought. But we all know the truth and there is no point in disguising it.

  “She is still alive, and while she lives there is hope.”

  Lady Alice turned away her eyes filling with tears. Aron watched her, wishing he had words of comfort but could find none.

  “Iduna grant that we reach her tonight,” she whispered.

  “We will try,” said Aron. “And leave tomorrow if we can.”

  “That soon?” said Edith.

  “I see no reason to delay,” said Aron.

  “And where will you go?” asked Lady Alice, her voice a husky croak. “Keshan?”

  “That’s what my dream said,” replied Aron. “It seems a likely destination.”

  “How will you get there?” She turned back to look at him. “Do you know the way?”

  Aron opened his mouth to answer and then stopped. She has a point. I don’t actually know how to get there.

  Lady Alice caught his hesitation. “We have no maps here, but I have a suggestion.”

  Aron caught the hint of a smile in her eyes and relaxed. “Any ideas would be welcome,” he said.

  “Keshan is a port, I believe,” she said. “Why not take the road over the western hills and look to pick up a boat in one of the villages on the coast?”

  “Would they take us to Keshan from there?” said Aron.

  “Probably not all the way. But they would take you to one of the larger ports where you’d be more likely to find a boat that would. There are many little craft that trade up and down the coast calling in at every village and landing spot.”

  “How many passengers would they be able to take?”

  “Just a handful,” said Lady Alice. “No more than half a dozen, and in no great comfort.”

  “I can live with the discomfort if it gets us there quicker,” said Aron.

  “That it will do I’m sure. It would be easy to go astray in the wild lands between here and Keshan. You could lose many days.”

  “That makes sense to me,” said Aron. “We can’t afford any time lost. How long might we have to wait for a boat?”

  “I will send such messages as I can to help find one,” said Lady Alice. “The worst of the weather is past. There should be many ships sailing the coast.”

  The door opened and Maldwyn strode into the room clutching a scroll in his hand. “Mama, would you have a look at this.” He waved the scroll at Lady Alice. “It’s the letter to the High King and I just can’t find the right words.”

  Lady Alice took it from him and with an amused glance at Aron and Edith, unrolled it. “This need not detain you,” she said.

  Aron left the room followed by Edith.

  “There’s something I want to show you,” said Edith. She looked at Aron but her eyes had none of the sparkle he remembered. “Wait here.”

  She hurried away up the corridor, slipped into a doorway and
returned after a while her dress changed for tunic and trousers, carrying a leather bowcase and a quiver of arrows. Without saying a word she led him through the keep and down into the courtyard; her pace fast enough to remind Aron of his bruised leg. They walked across the courtyard to the main gate and out on to the training ground.

  A straw target stood at the far end of the ground. Aron reckoned it was at least one hundred paces distant.

  “Watch this,” said Edith as she strung her bow.

  She selected an arrow from the quiver, fitted it to the bowstring and, in one smooth action, bent the bow and let fly. The arrow struck the straw, solidly but somewhat off centre. Edith selected another arrow, bent the bow and sent the arrow to stand alongside the first in the straw. She looked up at him as if challenging him to say something. When he didn’t, she selected a third arrow and hit the centre of the target with it.

  “Would you like to try,” she said offering the bow to him.

  Aron took the bow, admiring the straight grain of the wood. “Nice piece of work,” he said. He tested the weight of the draw; heavier than he had expected. Edith held out an arrow with the challenging look still in her eyes. He nocked it and waited for a moment, testing the breeze that chased the clouds across the sky, then smoothly bent the bow and loosed the arrow. It flew over the target and vanished into the scrub at the edge of the practice ground.

  “Try again?” asked Edith offering another arrow.

  “It takes a while to get used to a bow,” said Aron, waiting for her mockery of his first shot.

  “I know that,” said Edith. “I wanted to show you that I’ve got used to this bow, and that I’m good with it. Good enough that you can take me with you to find Celaine. I know what you’re going to say. That it’ll be dangerous. I realise that, and I’m ready to face it.”

  Aron could see the tension in her posture and the set of her mouth; it meant everything to her, yet his mind recoiled from the thought of taking her on such a perilous venture. He reached out and took the second arrow from her.

  “You can hit a straw target, but can you hit a man?”

  “Yes. If they’re keeping me from Celaine.”

  “It’s hardly my choice who goes,” he said. He bent the bow and sent the arrow into the target beside hers.

  “But Maldwyn will follow what you say.”

  “And your mother?”

  “Of course she’ll say no. She’s always too cautious.”

  “Perhaps she doesn’t want to risk losing another daughter.”

  “Then you must convince her. I will not be left behind again.” She turned away from him and began the walk to collect her arrows.

  “I will do what I can,” said Aron. “I’m sorry about how things ended up in the Holy City. What I did was wrong.”

  “I should hope you are sorry.” She rounded on him. “But that hardly makes it better. You’ve no idea how much you hurt me. I trusted you. I thought we were going to be married, and then you left without even a word. You know I tried to come after you. I made Maldwyn take me to that house you stayed in, but they wouldn’t tell me anything.”

  Aron remembered the surly doorkeeper at the Exiles’ house in the Holy City. The only thing he would have given them was a mouthful of abuse.

  “Everything’s been just horrible since the Holy City.” She swallowed hard. “And now you’re back, and I’m not going to let you hurt me again.”

  “I did what I thought was best. I didn’t wish to hurt you.”

  “But you still did.”

  She turned from him and resumed her walk to the target.

  “Go and find that arrow you shot into the wood,” she said over her shoulder.

  ***

  Edith watched Glynis preparing the dark brown mushrooms, each one no bigger than the end of her little finger. A small charcoal stove had been brought to the solar, and now a pan of water was heating on the coals. Every so often, when she had filled her chopping board, Glynis dumped the chopped mushrooms into the hot water. The set of her mouth and the way she avoided catching anyone’s eye told Edith that Glynis was still annoyed by the rejection of her advice.

  Wisps of steam rose from the pan as it started to bubble.

  “Urgh. That’s disgusting,” said Edith wrinkling her nose. “It smells worse than wet dog.” She caught Maldwyn’s eye; he looked rather pale in the candlelight.

  “Are we really going to drink that?” he asked.

  “It tastes worse than it smells,” said Aron. “It’d be a good idea to have some water to rinse your mouth out with.”

  “Milk works better,” said Glynis sharply. She stepped away from tending the pan, opened the door and spoke briefly to the servant who stood in the passageway. She returned to her task, her mouth a thin line of disapproval.

  “It’ll be ready in a moment,” she said without looking up. “Fetch your mother, Edith.”

  Her tone annoyed Edith and she was about to refuse when Maldwyn stood up from his stool.

  “I’ll get her,” he said and left the room almost colliding with the servant bringing a tray of horn beakers and a jug of milk.

  Glynis lifted the steaming pan from the coals and poured the contents through a cloth into a jug. She wrung the cloth to extract the last drop of liquor then wiped her damp hands on her apron.

  Edith caught another waft of the brew and grimaced. Aron smiled at her. “Don’t worry,” he said. “You can do this. You’ve done it before, remember.”

  She looked at him and remembered the dream of exploring Sarazan castle with him. It had been as easy as breathing. She caught herself; this was a trap, remembering such things just made the pain of what happened later worse. She turned from his gaze, angry at herself and fought back the tears that threatened. She would not break in front of him.

  The door banged open as Maldwyn returned followed by her mother.

  “Is everything ready, Glynis?” asked Lady Alice.

  “Yes, my Lady,” said Glynis.

  “Then let us begin. Celaine is waiting.”

  “I hope she’s asleep,” said Maldwyn.

  “It’s near enough midnight,” said Aron. “I’d expect them to be bedded down for the night if they’re on the road.”

  Lady Alice sat down in her cushioned chair and Glynis began to pour the potion into four pewter tankards. Aron reached and placed a hand over the one nearest him.

  “I cannot join you in this,” he said.

  “Why?” said Edith, suddenly on edge.

  “Yes, why?” asked Maldwyn. “This was your idea.”

  “That doesn’t stop it being a good idea,” said Aron. “I can’t. If I enter the spirit world I will be drawn straight to Iduna. She healed me last summer after Tirellan poisoned me.” He looked at Lady Alice. “Your prayers made her release me. I don’t think she will let me go again.”

  Edith stared at Aron open-mouthed as she struggled to digest his words. Her first reaction was a stab of jealousy that a part of him belonged to someone else – even if that someone was a goddess.

  “You? You are beloved of Iduna?” said Glynis, her knuckles white where they gripped the jug handle.

  “I suppose you could call me that,” said Aron, his eyes downcast.

  “Then she’s real,” said Maldwyn. “I never really believed.”

  “She’s real,” said Aron. “I would not have survived last summer without her.”

  There was a moment’s silence before Lady Alice spoke. “We can discuss the theology another time. We should drink Glynis’s potion now.”

  Aron picked up a tankard and passed it to Edith. She took it keeping her eyes on his. What does it mean to be beloved of Iduna?

  “Just think of Celaine,” said Aron. “Keep your mind on her and you’ll find her. You’ll know when it starts to work.”

  Edith put the potion to her lips. It tasted bitter and rancid as old fish guts, far worse than it had smelt. It took a physical effort to keep from spitting it out. Glynis passed her a beaker of milk, Ed
ith swiftly took a mouthful and swallowed; the evil taste was diminished but still remained.

  “You must finish it,” said Aron. “Or the dose will not be strong enough.”

  Edith looked at him to see if he was joking, but there was no hint of humour in his eyes. She brought the mug to her lips again, took a deep breath and drained it then she seized the milk and drank that too. Everything threatened to re-emerge for a moment and she clamped her jaws closed until her stomach subsided. She let out the breath she had been holding.

  “That’s the most disgusting thing I ever tasted,” she gasped.

  “Me too,” said Maldwyn, his face almost green in the candlelight.

  Lady Alice smiled wanly at her. “If that’s the worst thing we face tonight then we’ll do well.” She sipped at her beaker of milk.

  “It will begin in a few minutes,” said Aron. “The room will seem to fill with mist.” He paused and glanced at Glynis who nodded at him. “Empty your mind of everything save Celaine,” he continued. “Picture her as you last saw her. Reach out to her, keep focused and you will find her. When you find her remember what we need to know; where she is, how many travel with her and where they are going.”

  As the foul taste faded Edith relaxed and tried to think of Celaine and not Iduna.

  The edges of the room began to blur as if she was looking through tears, she blinked her eyes but the blurring increased.

  “Should something be happening?” asked Maldwyn. Edith looked at him, but his outline too was blurring as if a mist lay between them

  “It is,” said Lady Alice.

  “Don’t rub your eyes,” Aron said as Edith’s hand went to do just that. “Step forward into the mist. Reach out for Celaine. Think only of her.”

  Edith stood up and stepped forward even though she could feel the stool beneath her. She felt a moment of chill fear as she looked across the room. The floor was lost in swirling fog, but her mother stood, knee deep in white, reaching out her hand. Edith looked around for Maldwyn, but he was nowhere to be seen.

  “Should we wait for Maldwyn?” she asked.

  “It may not have worked for him,” said Lady Alice. “We can’t delay.”