by Martin Owton
“There is still light enough for a few miles further. You said we were certain to be pursued.”
Aron looked about his head throbbing with pain. In the gloom he could make out tumbled walls under the scrub and the chatter of a stream somewhere near.
“This looks as good a place as any to stop. We must rest the horses. There's decent enough grazing and water here.”
After a moment Maldwyn accepted this and dismounted. Davo took the horses to the stream before securing them for the night while Maldwyn set about gathering wood for a fire. Aron sat very still on a crumbled wall trying to will his stomach to calm.
Davo returned from watering the horses and produced a bottle from the depths of his pack, he pulled out the cork and after taking a long drink offered it to his companions. Aron waved it away with a tired shake of his head.
“Are you alright?” Davo asked.
Aron looked up at him. The light was fading fast and he could barely make out Davo in the gloom. He opened his mouth to speak, but his stomach rebelled and he vomited onto the grass between his feet. He tried to stand but his legs gave way and he sprawled across the turf. He made another effort to rise but a further spasm of retching seized him and, as he raised himself on his elbows, he lost control of his bowels.
Davo called out for Maldwyn and he came, dropping firewood as he ran.
“He looks like he's far gone in drink,” Davo said. “I bin like that a few times. But he ain't bin drinking.” He looked down at the sprawled figure at his feet. “Give him some of the water and I'll turn him so he won't choke if he gets sick again.”
Davo caught Aron by the shoulders and dragged his dead weight to the shelter of a tree, then turned him to lie on his side. Aron groaned softly but otherwise did not react. He coughed and spluttered at the water Maldwyn gave him but at least he kept it down. The two men set the fire close enough to warm him, spread his cloak over him and settled down for the night.
“He'll be better for a night's sleep,” Davo said and reached for his bottle.
***
Aron did not immediately recognise where he was when he woke. Davo and Maldwyn lay nearby, rolled in their cloaks and asleep, half-buried in the layer of mist that rose from the turf. But where he remembered tumbled mounds of rubble buried in undergrowth there now stood an elegant building; pale walls shining in the moonlight, splendid flowering vines twined around the door pillars climbing to the red-tiled roof. A warm golden light gleamed invitingly from the wide doorway giving the place something of the appearance of a ship of light sailing on a cloud sea. Aron threw off his cloak; his guts were quiet now though he still had a faraway headache. He stood up, confused that his clothes were unsoiled, and walked towards the golden house knee-deep through the mist. Am I mist-walking? he asked himself. It was both like, and unlike the walks in the mist he had taken under the influence of the wise woman's potion.
Cautiously Aron moved nearer until he could look inside. Within was filled with lush plants; shrubs in the full flower of spring and apple trees bearing golden fruit, all bathed in the sunlight of midsummer. Birds sang unseen and a warm breeze scented with honeysuckle caressed his skin. In the midst of the grove stood a pool of clear water. Aron suddenly felt parched as if he'd not drunk for days. He stepped across the threshold and as he did so a figure appeared from the greenery somewhere to his left. He turned at the movement, but saw only a silhouette as if the light shone directly behind the newcomer. He froze. His hands sought his blades, but failed to find them.
“Welcome stranger and fear naught. Drink, if that is your need. There is no trap here.”
The voice was a woman's; low and rounded with laughter bubbling at the edge. Aron relaxed, but his right hand still sought the knife hilt.
“Come into my garden and let me see you,” she called, her voice soft and inviting.
Aron stepped forward until the light was no longer behind the speaker and he could see that she was a woman of extraordinary beauty; smooth of face and full of bosom, her long flowing hair the colour of ripe corn. She smiled as she walked towards him and Aron felt as if the summer sun shone upon his face.
“It is so long since I had a visitor here. Won't you tarry awhile?”
Aron looked into her eyes, unable to decide what colour they were. She reached out and took his hands in hers. A scent reminiscent of sweet hay filled Aron's nose as he allowed her to lead him into the luxuriant undergrowth.
“My bower is nearby. You may rest there and tell me of what passes in the world,” she said, her voice as sweet as a dove’s call.
“I cannot stay here, my Lady. My comrades and I are fugitives,” said Aron. “Pursuit may overtake us at any time.”
“This is my place and no-one harms my guests.” There was a firmness and power in the soft voice as she led him to a grassy bank covered in daisies and buttercups.
“What is your name, lady? I cannot rest in your bower without knowing whose guest I am,” said Aron.
“Hush now, rest is what you need.” She laid Aron down on the grass and then sat beside him. Laying her hand on Aron's brow she looked into his eyes. “I feel the fires burning in your blood; rest here and I will cool you.” She produced a white metal cup and a ewer of clear water. “Drink. There is healing in the waters of my well.”
Aron took a draught of water and a great coolness flowed through him. The pain in his head seemed to flow out into her hands as she gently caressed his forehead.
“You're a pretty lad for one so dangerous, Aron son of Eamon,” she said softly. “I think I might keep you here with me though that would displease some of my followers.” Her lips gently brushed his and Aron felt his body respond to her nearness.
***
“I can't wake him,” said Davo. He was kneeling beside the still figure of Aron who lay between the cold ashes of the fire and the spreading roots of an oak tree.“Splash some water over his face, that'll do it,” said Maldwyn. “That's what my nurse always did to me.”
“Already tried that,” replied Davo. “Didn't work. What're we gonna do, milord?”
Maldwyn looked around at the woods that surrounded them on all sides. The track that they had followed the previous evening seemed to lead no further, and he had no idea where they were.
“We have no choice in the matter,” Maldwyn said after a moment's consideration. “We stay here until he is fit to travel. Make sure he takes plenty of water and wait until the fever breaks.”
“What about them lads behind us?”
“We'll conceal ourselves as best we can and hope they miss us. How fast do you think we would be able to travel with him as he is? There’s another thing too.”
“Wassatt?”
“We oughta wash him.”
“But he’s shit hisself”
“Exactly why we need to wash him. We can’t leave him lying in it.”
“Don’t see why not.”
Maldwyn was silent for a moment as he pondered on Davo’s concept of personal hygiene. He reached for a water carrier. “I’ll get some water. You get his breeches off.”
Davo recoiled. “I’m not touching him, not like that.”
Maldwyn thrust the water carrier at him with a sigh. “Very well. You get the water then.”
***
Aron awoke in soft arms, his head cradled between the breasts of the Lady whose name he did not yet know. His head was clear and he felt strong and filled with energy, he was also hungry. His stomach growled at the very thought of food. Her hand reached out and caressed his head.
“So you're awake at last, my sweet.” Her voice was like a summer breeze in the long grass of a hay meadow. “And hungry now, I shouldn't wonder. But which hunger shall we satisfy first.” She chuckled and moved so that a plump nipple slid across Aron's lips. Aron reached out his tongue and licked the sweetmeat offered him.
“Food later then,” she said running her hand down Aron's belly towards his groin.
***
“I suppose I have to let you go back.”
The Lady’s soft voice caressed Aon as he lay back lazily on the grass and let her feed him.
“Now the water fever you took from the river is burned out. But mind; you'll be weak yet when you return. I'll send a guide to you. Now I've found you, I can't have you getting lost in the forest.”
“How can I thank you for all your kindness? I am forever in your debt,” said Aron as he looked into her eyes. “How will I find you again?”
“Keep me always in your heart and I will find you. Now you must go.” She bent her head to kiss him and Aron felt himself falling asleep as her cool lips held his.
***
“He's awake.” Davo called out to Maldwyn in the still morning air. Maldwyn came running from where he had been tending the horses.
“Thank the Gods. How is he?”
Aron tried to raise himself up on one elbow, his head spun and he was obliged to lie back down. He tried again more slowly and succeeded in sitting up.
“Hungry,” he smiled weakly and then wrinkled his nose in disgust, “and in need of a wash. How long have I been asleep?”
“Four nights and three days,” replied Davo. “We've bin real worried about you and there's almost no grub left.”
Aron looked around their camp site and seeing the overgrown stones of the tumbled walls rubbed his eyes in disbelief. Where was the lady's house?
“Four nights, all that time? I don't understand.” Then, as he remembered what had brought them here. “What of the soldiers? Are we not pursued?”
“There has been no sign of them,” said Maldwyn, looking around as if to confirm his statement. “The track we followed ends here and we've seen no-one at all.”
“I doubt we've seen the last of them. Now what did you say there was to eat? Is there any ham left?” Davo shook his head. “Well, have you managed to catch anything? There must be game in these woods,” said Aron.
Davo looked helplessly at Maldwyn who looked equally blank.
“We tried,” said Maldwyn. “But we didn’t catch anything, and our snares disappeared from where we’d set them.”
“There's oatmeal. You can have porridge,” said Davo. Aron groaned inwardly; just what he needed to restore his strength. Still it was better than nothing.
“It'll do until the guide gets here.”
Davo and Maldwyn looked suspiciously at him.
“What did you say? What guide?” asked Maldwyn.
Aron paused a moment then shook his head. “Never mind. Is there any clean water?”
Maldwyn looked at him curiously and then went to fetch a water pouch. Aron sat staring at the ruined walls trying to reconcile the sight with his memory of the building in the dream. Who was she? She had avoided telling him, but he was sure it was important that he know. She had said she would send him a guide; if one appeared that would be the proof of the dream. He didn't want to believe that it had all been illusion, but he would await the proof.
Eventually Davo interrupted Aron's ponderings with a pan of warm oatmeal porridge. Aron ate it without relish, the lumpy consistency and bland flavour too much of a contrast with his memory of the Lady's gifts.
“You know's where we is, don't yer?” Davo spoke softly so that Maldwyn, who was tending the horses twenty paces away, wouldn't hear. “Cos I don't reckon he's got much idea. He's brave enough and alright with the horses mind, but I wouldn't want him in charge when there's thinkin' required.”
“He's going to be Earl of Nandor,” said Aron quietly.
“Then the gods help 'im.”
“His mother'll keep him heading the right way,” said Aron.
“Clever woman, Lady Alice, dangerous too,” said Davo with a meaningful glance at Aron.
“Hush now, what was that?” Davo's head swivelled in response to Aron's sharp enquiry.
“What was what? I didn't hear nothing.” One of the horses snorted as Maldwyn's brush caught a tangle in its mane. “It's just the horses.”
“No, it's not. See over there.” Aron pointed between the trees where a greenclad figure moved lithely through the undergrowth. Davo whistled softly to get Maldwyn's attention, and the three of them watched in silent interest as the figure walked right up to them.
“Are you the guide?” asked Aron.
Maldwyn and Davo looked at him, mystified.
“Yes, I suppose so. The Lady told me to come and see to you, if that's what you mean. I'm Araiminta.”
The voice identified the stranger as a woman even before she threw back the hood of her green cloak to reveal her greying hair. Though her face was lined, her dark eyes sparkled with vigour.
“I'm Aron of Darien, this is Lord Maldwyn of Nandor and Davo.” Aron indicated the others, who continued to stare at him as if he were mad.
“Are you ready to leave?” Araiminta asked.
Aron tried to stand up, but everything blurred alarmingly and he sat down again. Araiminta offered her hand. Aron grasped it and was surprised by the calluses and the firmness of her grip.
“Up you come, young man. I don't think you're in any state to be walking yet. The Lady said one of you had been ill.” Araiminta turned to Davo and Maldwyn, who stood watching her with their mouths hanging open. “Why don't you two bring a horse over for your friend and get packed up? Then we can be on our way. Come along, we haven't got all day.”
Davo and Maldwyn turned and walked towards the horses in bewildered silence.
“You'll need feeding up for a few days before you're going anywhere, my lad. My cottage is just a step away and I've a good stew in the pot. I've been keeping an eye on you since you arrived, but the Lady only told me last night you needed help. Till then I thought you were bandits or suchlike.”
“We didn't see you, at least, they didn't,” Aron indicated Davo and Maldwyn who were packing up their gear.
“They weren't meant to, but I saw them trying to trap my animals. You might well have been bandits, it wouldn't be the first time.”
“You took the snares.”
“Thought it might persuade you to move along.”
“Who is the Lady that you speak of?”
Araiminta turned to look at him as if he was simple.
“The Goddess Iduna. She that we call the Lady. This is her place; the mother of all her sacred places. Though few now remember. Once, long ago, she was widely worshipped, but now there are only a few who follow her. The warrior’s god and merchants' gods of luck and profit have driven her out of the towns and villages. I am keeper of the temple. How is it that you enjoy her favour yet know her not?”
“We came here as fugitives; I fell ill of a fever and we camped here because there was clean water. I dreamed of the Lady in my fevered sleep. She was kind to me; she fed me and cooled my fever with water from her well.”
“Did she indeed? You are most fortunate. Is that all she did?” She eyed him suspiciously. “Did she feed you a golden apple?”
“Not that I recall. I saw some growing in the grove by the pool, but I don't remember eating one.”
“She has retained some propriety then.” Araiminta wrinkled her nose as she said this, sounding to Aron like an aunt discussing a favourite but wayward niece. “Can't say as I blame her though. You're a handsome lad, and there's been none but old women coming to her for years.”
Aron felt his face begin to colour. “Our pursuers may appear at any time,” he said. “I would not have you put yourself in harm’s way on our account.”
“Oh. I'll be fine, they won't find me. This is the Lady's place and she'll see no-one under her protection comes to harm.”
“Your horse is ready, Aron,” called Maldwyn.
Davo brought the horse over and helped him mount up. Then the three men set off following Aramainta as she strode through the trees.
CHAPTER 21
“What's the final tally of the damage they've done us, Gerom?” said Captain Elthorn. He
looked over at the surviving caravan guards where they sat in a sorry huddle guarded by four crossbowmen. He spat to one side and wiped his mouth on his sleeve.
“Five dead, ten wounded, but four of them can ride,” said Lieutenant Gerom who himself had a bandage round his head covering a deep cut in his scalp. “Not including myself, sir.”
No doubt he had a raging headache, but declined to mention it. Sound lad, thought Elthorn. He should do well if he survives this .
“Hang the lot of them. Take them across on the ferry and string them up,” said Elthorn. “They've cost us dear this day and this is the least payment we can take.”
“Are we going after the three that got away, sir?”
“That is entirely up to you now, Gerom. I am handing over command of this sorry mess to you.” He saw the surprise register on Gerom’s face. “I shall draft a message to Lord Hercival reporting the full details of what happened here and tendering my resignation. I shall accept full responsibility for everything. What you do from this point on is entirely your decision, but I would caution you of four things. Firstly, the fugitives are reported to have fled away from the river into the forest. That is outside Sarazan's lands and you have no legal right to pursue them there. Secondly, you have wounded men in your care. Thirdly, you have no-one who can track through woodland, and finally you have only a handful of men who can fight, and one of the fugitives is known to be skilled bladesman.”
“Very good, sir,” said Gerom stiffly. “But why are you standing down?”
“I suppose you could call it cowardice, Gerom, though I call it self-preservation,” Elthorn said bleakly. “As I'm afraid you will find shortly, Lord Hercival is much like his grandfather, the Old Duke, and not a reasonable man when it comes to dealing with failure. And you don't have to call me sir anymore.”
“No sir. I mean, no. I don’t think you’re a coward.” Gerom stumbled over the words. “What are you going to do now?”
“Right now, Gerom. I'm going back into that inn and I'm going to get drunk. What are you going to do?”
Gerom paused for a minute in thought. “I'm going to hang those caravan guards, then I'm going get the wounded back to Erkimar.”