A Hero's Tale

by Catherine M. Wilson

  I would need food for my journey, and I would have no time to hunt or set snares. I took the piglet from its spit and put it into an empty grain sack, along with several of the loaves.

  I opened the kitchen door a crack and peered out, to see if the yard was empty. I didn't notice anyone. A moment more and I would have been gone.

  "Stop! Thief!"

  The two guards posted in the yard had been asleep. Once out the door I would have seen them and could have easily slipped past them, but the shout awakened them, and they sprang to their feet, confused, until they saw me. While I was trying to decide whether I should dodge between them or around them, and so make my escape, someone dragged me by the collar back into the kitchen and tore the sack from my hands.

  "You! Thief!"

  It was the stout servant who had accused me of stealing the knife.

  "No," I said. "It's all right. The Lady let me go."

  He didn't seem to understand a word I said. While he continued to berate me, he dumped the contents of the sack out onto a table.

  The two guards had come into the kitchen and now stood one on either side of me. The man turned to them and repeated his accusations. I caught the word for pig.

  "I have to go home," I said. "You can keep your pig."

  When I turned to leave, the guards took hold me of me.

  "You have no right to keep me," I said. "The Lady let me go."

  The stout servant shook the empty grain sack in my face and called me names I didn't know the meaning of, though it was quite clear what he meant. I appealed to the two guards. They pretended not to understand me.

  The woman who had cared for me the day before came into the kitchen in her nightshirt and demanded to know the cause of the commotion.

  "Please," I said. "Tell them the Lady has granted me safe conduct."

  She shook her head at me and shrugged.

  I tried to recall the word she had used the day before. "An escort," I said. "The Lady promised me an escort. The Lady let me go."

  The stout servant held up the sack and babbled something to the woman I couldn't understand at all, but I knew what he accused me of.

  "Do you not practice hospitality here?" I asked her. "I took a little something. Food for my journey. I don't need an escort. I have no time to wait for another escort. I know the way. I must go home. I must leave now, today."

  The woman regarded me with suspicion. "Time enough to wait," she said.

  I think she meant that I would have to wait for an escort, whether I wanted one or not. This was beginning to be tiresome. Why could they not just let me go about my business? I had only one thing left to do that was of any importance. Lives hung in the balance.

  "You don't understand," I said. "I have to go right away. It's a matter of life and death."

  My weary voice did not convince them. Nor would it have convinced me. I tried to awaken in myself a sense of urgency. I brought before my mind's eye the images of those I cared for -- of Merin and my mother, of my sister Tamar, of Namet, and of Sparrow, whose love I counted on -- and it seemed as if their ghosts were standing there beside me, watching me, to see if I had the will to save them.

  "My people are in danger," I said. "I must take back a warning. It may already be too late. Even now the northern tribes are gathering an army."

  One of the guards who held me made a noise like, "Urr?"

  "Army? Where?" said the other. He was not so ignorant of the language of the common folk after all, but only reluctant to be drawn into their altercations.

  "To the east, in the hill country beyond the wilderness."

  "How far?"

  I had to count the days. It had taken me almost a fortnight to reach Elen's house from the northerners' encampment, but I had taken the long way round. When I realized how much time had passed, I grew more fearful that I would be too late. It takes time to gather up an army, and an army moves more slowly than a person traveling alone. Still, I would have to hurry.

  "How far?" the guard asked again.

  "Four days, maybe five."

  Before I could say or do anything to stop them, my captors dragged me between them through the great hall and up a wide staircase, to the rooms where the warriors slept. The stout servant followed after us, hoping perhaps to see me punished for my crimes.

  One of the guards held me, while the other awakened one of their war leaders. I knew him for a chieftain by the device upon his shield, which hung beside the doorway of his room. It was a black bear, standing up on its hind legs, drawn so that when the warrior held his shield in battle, the bear would face his sword arm, looking as fierce as he, all raking claws and gleaming teeth.

  From the hallway I heard the conversation, the man's complaints on having been awakened, then his alarm when he was told of the presence of the northern army. I heard him get up and dress himself. I heard the creaking of the leather, the clicking of the buckles, as he fastened on his armor. I heard the clank of metal as he took up his sword.

  The bear shield chieftain emerged from his room like a bear emerging from his den. He had to stoop and turn a little sideways to fit through the narrow doorway. His uncombed hair, as black as soot, stood up all over his head. A little grey had begun to lighten his beard. When he saw me, he knelt down on one knee, so that he could look me in the eye.

  "Hey now, small little wee lad," he said, in the strangest version I had ever heard of the language of Finn's people. "What's this? Comes your army to lay siege to us?"

  "Your men misunderstood me," I told him. "The army I saw threatens my people, not yours."

  "You saw this?" he asked. "These eyes," and he held two fingers up to my face, as if to touch them, "these eyes saw this?"

  I nodded.

  "How long?"

  I counted on my fingers up to ten. It was close enough.

  "Army so far off, ten days?" he asked, then glanced at the guard who had awakened him. Perhaps he would be reassured and go back to bed.

  "He said four or five," the guard replied.

  "I got lost," I said.

  "You got five days lost?"

  "Yes," I told him. "I got lost in the forest."

  "Ah," he said. "Army close. Four days. Five days."

  "Yes."

  Even so, the northern army was far from being encamped on Elen's doorstep.

  "Speak everything you saw, those eyes," he said. "Speak where are they."

  Though his speech sounded awkward to my ears, the man was fluent, not searching for a word here, a phrase there, not making me repeat myself. He could almost have been a native speaker of the language of the common folk.

  "I saw them in the hills east of the wilderness," I said.

  "Armsmen, they prepare a march?"

  "No," I said. "They are encamped."

  While he thought that over, I opened my mouth to tell him again that they were coming after my people, not his, but I changed my mind and held my tongue. I wanted to see what would happen.

  "They are many?" he asked.

  I nodded.

  "How many?"

  "Their campfires on the hills I took for the bonfires of springtime."

  I didn't know his word for the spring festival, but he knew what I meant.

  "They are encamped," he said.

  "Yes."

  "Better to speak, encamped they were, ten days past."

  "That's true," I said.

  "And if they have unencamped, which way their intention is?"

  I kept my mouth shut. I was beginning to have an idea.

  He took me by the arm and gave me a gentle shake. "Your people. Which way?"

  I pointed to the south.

  "Armsmen, their intention is to south?"

  I shrugged. "Where else?"

  I saw the answer in his eyes. He thought they were coming here.

  The bear shield chieftain suddenly stood up and gestured to me to follow him. The two guards came too, one still keeping a firm grip on my arm, and the stout servant trailed along behind
. We took another way to find it, but I knew where we were going. They took me to the tower room.

  Again the guard rapped on the door with the hilt of his sword, but for a long time no one answered it. As he raised the sword to knock again, it opened, and the servant I had seen before peered out. When she saw the bear shield chieftain, she hastened to pull the door wide open and let us in.

  The sun had just risen, and its light spilled in through the unshuttered windows. Elen was sitting up in bed, a shawl around her shoulders against the morning chill, sipping a warm drink from a silver cup. She was alone.

  She smiled when she saw the chieftain, but when her eyes fell on me, she frowned, and anger reddened her cheeks. She was about to say something to me when the rest of them trooped in.

  "What's this?" she asked.

  Once they were in her private chamber, the guards and the stout servant looked as if they felt very out of place. They blushed, to find the Lady in her bed, and looked everywhere but there. The chieftain turned and saw them.

  "Out," he said, in the language of the mighty. "I think I can master one small boy."

  When the bear shield chieftain and I were alone in the tower room with Elen, she didn't question either of us. She gazed at us, waiting for one of us to speak. For the first time I saw her unprepared. She had no idea what was about to happen. She was at a disadvantage.

  "Disturbing news, my Lady," said the chieftain. "This boy has seen an army gathering in the eastern hills."

  I had kept my wits about me. I pretended not to understand a word, as he repeated to Elen what he had just learned from me.

  "How did you come to hear of this?" she asked him.

  "Our guards caught the lad as he tried to leave the house. He gave as his excuse that he had to take a warning to his people. Warning of what, they asked him, and then he told them of the army."

  "He could have made it up, to convince the guards to let him go."

  "If he did, he was a fool. It was that news that caused the guards to bring him to me."

  "You questioned him yourself?"

  "I did."

  "And you believe him?"

  He nodded.

  "What do you suggest we do?"

  "It's too late to send out scouts," the chieftain said. "Our enemies may be already in the forest. We must meet them in strength, and we have barely time to gather our strength together."

  Elen's attention was all on her chieftain now. "How many are they? Have we strength enough to turn them back?"

  "They will count on our being unprepared," he said. "Those that brought the assassin back, they will have told the rest that we are occupied with celebration, that they will find us drunk and staggering, like witless fools."

  "Will our guests join us, do you think?"

  The chieftain nodded. "If their lord aspires to be your king, must he not show himself a man? He dare not cower here while you go out to meet the enemy."

  "Make ready then," said Elen. "Go now and give the order. Then return to me and let us make our plans."

  The chieftain took me by the collar, to escort me out, but Elen said, "Leave the boy with me."

  "Is this how you repay my kindness?" Elen said.

  She spoke in the language of the mighty, I think to test my understanding. I blinked at her and kept my silence.

  "Why did you withhold this news from me?" she said in the language of the common folk.

  I saw no need to lie to her about it. "Lady," I replied, "I did not withhold it. It never occurred to me to mention it."

  "You didn't think the presence of an army on my borders worthy of mention?"

  "No, Lady."

  "Whyever not?"

  "I doubt they're coming here."

  This much she knew from what the bear shield chieftain told her.

  "Where else?" said Elen.

  "They have been my people's foes for generations. They fight with us every year."

  "Do they bring with them an army every year?"

  "No, Lady."

  "Can you give me proof of their intentions?"

  I shook my head and tried to look more doubtful than I was. My plan was beginning to take shape. If Elen believed the northern army was a threat to her, if she gathered an army of her own and marched on their encampment, their attack on Merin's land would be turned aside. And if the northern army had marched south already, the news of Elen's army at their back would stop them.

  I was certain they would hear the news. I understood the ways of armies from the stories told around the hearth in Merin's great hall. Some of the northerners would remain in their encampment, to guard their supplies and to keep secure a place to which their warriors could retreat with their wounded. Their scouts would warn them of the approach of Elen's army, and they would send messengers to call their army back. Better than taking a warning to my people, I might succeed in sending out an army against the enemies of Merin's house.

  Through the window I saw the perilous cliffs, stronger than any palisade. With defenses like these, why would Elen send out an army?

  "Would the northerners be so foolish as to attack this place?" I asked her. "I have never seen a fortress more well guarded."

  "Northerners?"

  "The northern tribes. They live to the north of us, so that's how we have always called them. I don't know what they call themselves."

  Elen smiled. "We call them the mountain folk," she said. "They call themselves so many names no one but they could sort them out."

  I wondered if she would answer my question. Instead she said, "Is not your home a fortress as strong as this?"

  "It is a mighty fortress," I replied, "but it has no cliffs like these."

  "Ah," said Elen. "These cliffs guard us, but they also hem us in. We can well withstand a siege, but sieges may be costly. We will not have help enough to bring the harvest in, and there will be no trade. Even one summer's siege could impoverish us. We would have to come to terms."

  I was beginning to understand Elen's situation. In order to prevent a siege, her warriors must stop the northerners before they reached the cliffs. If it was too late to stop them in the wilderness, where one army could meet another on an even footing, they would have to stop them in the forest, and if they allowed themselves to be pushed back, they would soon have their backs against the cliffs, where they could be easily outmaneuvered. Fighting in the forest would be difficult, but if they split their army into smaller bands, they could harry the northern army's flanks and threaten to close off their escape. The northerners would have to stand and fight, or they might find themselves between Elen's army and the cliffs, and then they would be the ones outmaneuvered.

  I remembered that I was supposed to be ignorant of Elen's plans.

  "What will you do, Lady?" I asked her.

  "We will go out to meet them," she replied. "Unless you can assure me that we are not their intended victims."

  Her eyes seemed to encourage me to convince her of her safety, not because she would be reassured, but because she expected to be lied to. I knew how she would hear the truth.

  "When I first saw them, Lady, I believed they intended to make war against my people. I have no reason to think otherwise."

  "When did you first see them?"

  "Ten days ago," I said.

  "And you saw no indication they intended to come here?"

  "No, Lady."

  "And nothing you've learned since has changed your mind?"

  I shook my head.

  "Not even knowing they are also foes of ours?"

  "Have you done something to provoke them?"

  "Not that I'm aware of."

  "My people have," I told her. "Vintel, our war leader, the one I made my enemy, Vintel provokes them constantly. When I saw their army, I knew their intentions, and I was not surprised."

  I saw the doubt in Elen's eyes. The more I tried to convince her, the more doubtful she became.

  "So you would ignore this threat?"

  "If I were you, yes, I w
ould ignore it. For myself, I cannot ignore it. I meant to leave your house this morning, to take a warning to my people, but your servants prevented me."

  "Ah," said Elen, "I am reminded to ask why you are still here. Did I not send someone to see you on your way?"

  "I fell ill yesterday," I replied. "A kitchen servant took pity on me and put me to bed, and your captain left without me."

  "I will have a word with him," she said, more to herself than to me. "He should have taken my request to heart."

  "Lady," I said. "I need no escort. I will go willingly from your lands, and as soon as possible. I may yet have time to warn my people. Will you not instruct your servants to let me go?"

  "You must think me very foolish," Elen said.

  I could find no words to answer her. I did not think her wise, as Merin was wise, but to think her foolish would be dangerous.

  "You are a skillful liar," she said. "Your words ring with truth. Yet one mistake unmasks a lie. If you were so concerned about your people, why did you not take them a warning when you first saw this army gathering?"

  Elen did not expect an answer, nor did I give her one. Her gaze wandered out the window. "I knew they were up to something when they brought Maara here."

  Maara's name on Elen's tongue woke the place where I thought my love for her had died. It hurt. I closed my heart against it.

  Elen shrugged off her shawl, threw back the covers, and arose from her bed. Like a fairy queen she was, draped all in white. Her crown of golden hair lay loose around her shoulders. When she passed before the window, the sunlight pouring in revealed her form, as perfect as I had imagined it.

  She went to the door and pulled it open. The guard stood ready. She spoke a few words to him I couldn't hear. Then she closed the door and turned back to me.

  "You must accept my hospitality a little longer," she said. "I think your people will be safe enough. And of course, if you truly are a stranger to them, why would they believe your warning?" She smiled, a smile of victory. "You see, the fabric falls apart. You find the lie, you pull its thread, and the whole unravels."

  The guard pounded on the door. Elen opened it, and the bear shield chieftain came into the room.