At the centre of the clearing was a pond. It was frozen over, so a man—were he brave or foolish enough—might cross it in twenty or so strides. The smoothness of the ice’s surface was interrupted only near the far side, where the hollowed-out trunk of a dead tree burst up through it. Along the bank, not far from the ruined tree, a large ogre was crouching down on its knees and elbows at the water’s very edge, its head completely submerged. Perhaps the creature had been drinking—or searching for something beneath the surface—and had been overtaken by the sudden freeze. To a careless observer, the ogre might have been a headless corpse, decapitated as it crawled to quench its thirst.
The patch of sky above the pond cast a strange light down on the ogre, and Edwin stared at it for a while, almost expecting it to return to life, bringing up a ghastly and flushed face. Then, with a start, he realised there was a second creature in an identical posture on the far right-hand edge of the pond. And there!—yet a third, not far before him, on the near bank, half-concealed by the ferns.
Ogres usually aroused only revulsion in him, but these creatures, and the eerie melancholy of their postures, made Edwin feel a tug of pity. What had brought them to such a fate? He began to move toward them, but the rope was taut again, and he heard Wistan say close behind him:
“Do you still deny this is a dragon’s lair, comrade?”
“Not here, warrior. We must go further.”
“Yet this spot whispers to me. Even if not her lair, isn’t this a place she comes to drink and bathe?”
“I say it’s cursed, warrior, and no place to do battle with her. We’ll have only ill luck here. Look at those poor ogres. And they almost as large as the fiends you killed the other night.”
“What do you speak of, boy?”
“Don’t you see them? Look, there! And there!”
“Master Edwin, you’ve become exhausted, as I feared. Let’s rest a while. Even if this is a gloomy spot, it gives us respite from the wind.”
“How can you talk of rest, warrior? And isn’t that how those poor creatures met their fate, loitering in this bewitched place too long? Heed their warning, warrior!”
“The only warning I heed tells me to make you rest before you drive your own heart to burst.”
He felt himself tugged, and his back struck against the bark of a tree. Then the warrior was trudging around him, circling rope about his chest and shoulders till he could hardly move.
“This good tree means you no harm, young comrade.” The warrior placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Why waste strength this way to uproot it? Calm yourself and rest, I say, while I study more closely this place.”
He watched Wistan picking his way through the nettles down to the pond. Reaching the water’s edge, the warrior spent several moments walking slowly back and forth, staring closely at the ground, sometimes crouching down to examine whatever caught his eye. Then he straightened, and for a long time seemed to fall into a reverie, gazing over at the trees on the far side of the pond. For Edwin, the warrior was now a near-silhouette against the frozen water. Why did he not even glance towards the ogres?
Wistan made a movement and suddenly the sword was in his hand, the arm poised and unmoving in the air. Then the weapon was returned to its scabbard and the warrior, turning from the water, came walking back towards him.
“We’re hardly the first visitors here,” he said. “Even this past hour, some party’s come this way, and it’s no she-dragon. Master Edwin, I’m glad to see you calmer.”
“Warrior, I’ve a confession to make. One that may make you slay me even as I stand trussed to this tree.”
“Speak, boy, and don’t fear me.”
“Warrior, you claimed for me the hunter’s gift, and even as you spoke of it I felt a strong pull, so let you believe I had Querig in my nostrils. But I was always deceiving you.”
Wistan came closer till he was standing right before him.
“Go on, comrade.”
“I can’t go on, warrior.”
“You’ve more to fear from your silence than my anger. Speak.”
“I can’t, warrior. When we began to climb, I knew just what to tell you. Yet now … I’m uncertain what it is I’ve kept hidden from you.”
“It’s the she-dragon’s breath, nothing more. It’s had little sway over you before, but now overpowers you. A sure sign we’re close to her.”
“I fear it’s this cursed pool bewitches me, warrior, and maybe bewitches you too, making you content to dally this way and hardly glancing at those drowned ogres. Yet I know there’s a confession I have to make and only wish I could find it.”
“Show me the way to the she-dragon’s lair and I’ll forgive whatever small lies you’ve told me.”
“But that’s just it, warrior. We rode the mare till her heart nearly burst, then climbed this steep mountainside, yet I’m not leading you at all to the she-dragon.”
Wistan had come so close Edwin could feel the warrior’s breath.
“Where could it be then, Master Edwin, you lead me?”
“It’s my mother, warrior, I remember it now. My aunt’s not my mother. My real mother was taken, and even though I was a small boy then, I was watching. And I promised her I’d one day bring her back. Now I’m nearly grown, and have you beside me, even those men would tremble to face us. I deceived you, warrior, but understand my feelings and help me now we’re so near her.”
“Your mother. You say she’s near us now?”
“Yes, warrior. But not here. Not this cursed place.”
“What do you remember of the men who took her?”
“They looked fierce, warrior, and well used to killing. Not a man in the village dared come out to face them that day.”
“Saxons or Britons?”
“They were Britons, warrior. Three men, and Steffa said they must not long before have been soldiers, for he recognised their soldiers’ ways. I wasn’t yet five years old, or else I’d have fought for her.”
“My own mother was taken, young comrade, so I understand your thoughts well. And I too was a child and weak when she was taken. These were times of war, and in my foolishness, seeing how the men slaughtered and hanged so many, I rejoiced to see the way they smiled at her, believing they meant to treat her with gentleness and favour. Perhaps it was this way for you too, Master Edwin, when you were young and still to know of men’s ways.”
“My mother was taken in peaceful times, warrior, so no great harm has met her. She’s been travelling country to country, and it may not be such a bad life. Yet she longs to return to me, and it’s true, the men who travel with her are sometimes cruel. Warrior, accept this confession, punish me later, but help me now face her captors, for it’s long years she’s waited for me.”
Wistan stared at him strangely. He seemed on the brink of saying something, but then shook his head and walked a few steps away from the tree, almost like one ashamed. Edwin had never seen the warrior wear such an air, and watched him with surprise.
“I’ll readily forgive you this deception, Master Edwin,” Wistan said eventually, turning back to face him. “And any other small lies you may have told. And soon I’ll release you from this tree and we’ll go to face whatever foe you may lead us to. But in return I ask you to make a promise.”
“Tell me, warrior.”
“Should I fall and you survive, promise me this. That you’ll carry in your heart a hatred of Britons.”
“What do you mean, warrior? Which Britons?”
“All Britons, young comrade. Even those who show you kindness.”
“I don’t understand, warrior. Must I hate a Briton who shares with me his bread? Or saves me from a foe as lately did the good Sir Gawain?”
“There are Britons who tempt our respect, even our love, I know this only too well. But there are now greater things press on us than what each may feel for another. It was Britons under Arthur slaughtered our kind. It was Britons took your mother and mine. We’ve a duty to hate every man, woman and child
of their blood. So promise me this. Should I fall before I pass to you my skills, promise me you’ll tend well this hatred in your heart. And should it ever flicker or threaten to die, shield it with care till the flame takes hold again. Will you promise me this, Master Edwin?”
“Very well, warrior, I promise it. But now I hear my mother calling, and surely we’ve stayed in this gloomy place too long.”
“Let’s go to her then. But be prepared in case we come too late for her rescue.”
“What can you mean, warrior? How can that ever be, for I hear her call even now.”
“Then let’s hasten to her call. Just know one thing, young comrade. When the hour’s too late for rescue, it’s still early enough for revenge. So let me hear your promise again. Promise me you’ll hate the Briton till the day you fall from your wounds or the heaviness of your years.”
“I gladly promise it again, warrior. But release me from this tree, for I now feel clearly which way we must go.”
Chapter Thirteen
The goat, Axl could see, was well at home on this mountain terrain. It was eating happily the stubbly grass and heather, not caring about the wind, or that its left legs were poised so much lower than the right. The animal had a fierce tug—as Axl had discovered all too well during their ascent—and it had not been easy to find a way of safely tethering it while he and Beatrice took their rest. But he had spotted a dead tree root protruding from the slope, and had carefully bound the rope to it.
The goat was clearly visible from where they now sat. The two large rocks, leaning one towards the other like an old married couple, had been visible from some way down, but Axl had hoped to come across a shelter from the wind long before they reached them. Yet the bare hillside had offered nothing, and they had had to persevere up the little path, the goat tugging as impulsively as the fierce gusts. But when at last they reached the twin rocks, it was as if God had crafted for them this sanctuary, for while they could still hear the blasts around them, they felt only faint stirrings in the air. Even so, they sat close against one another, as if in imitation of the stones above them.
“Here’s all this country still below us, Axl. Didn’t that river carry us down at all?”
“We were halted before we could get far, princess.”
“And now we climb uphill again.”
“Right enough, princess. I fear that young girl hid from us the true hardship of this task.”
“No doubt about it, Axl, she made it sound an easy stroll. But who’ll blame her? Still a child and more cares than one her age should bear. Axl, look there. Down in that valley, do you see them?”
A hand raised to the glare, Axl tried to discern what his wife was indicating, but eventually shook his head. “My eyes aren’t as good as yours, princess. I see valley after valley where the mountains descend, but nothing remarkable.”
“There, Axl, follow my finger. Aren’t those soldiers walking in a line?”
“I see them now, right enough. But surely they’re not moving.”
“They’re moving, Axl, and might be soldiers, the way they go in a long line.”
“To my poor eyes, princess, they seem not to move at all. And even if they’re soldiers, they’re surely too far to bother us. It’s those storm clouds to the west concern me more, for they’ll bring mischief swifter than any soldiers in the distance.”
“You’re right, husband, and I wonder how much further it is we’re to go. That young girl wasn’t honest, insisting it was but a simple stroll. Yet can we blame her? Her parents absent and her younger brothers to worry over. She must have been desperate to have us do her bidding.”
“I can see them more clearly, princess, now the sun peeks from behind the clouds. They’re not soldiers or men at all, but a row of birds.”
“What foolishness, Axl. If they’re birds, how would we see them from here at all?”
“They’re closer than you imagine, princess. Dark birds sat in a line, the way they do in the mountains.”
“Then why is it one doesn’t fly into the air as we watch them?” “One may fly up yet, princess. And I for one won’t blame that young lass, for isn’t she in a black plight? And where would we have been without her help, soaked and shivering as we were when we first saw her? Besides, princess, as I remember it, it wasn’t the girl alone keen to have this goat go up to the giant’s cairn. Is it even an hour gone by you were as anxious?”
“I’m still as anxious for it, Axl. For wouldn’t it be a fine thing if Querig were slain and this mist no more? It’s just when I see that goat chewing the earth that way, it’s hard to believe a foolish creature like that could ever do away with a great she-dragon.”
The goat had been eating with equal appetite earlier that morning when they had first come upon the little stone cottage. The cottage had been easy to miss, hidden within a pocket of shadow at the foot of a looming cliff, and even when Beatrice had pointed it out to him, Axl had mistaken it for the entrance to a settlement not unlike their own, dug deep into the mountainside. Only as they had come closer had he realised it was an isolated structure, the walls and roof alike built from shards of dark grey rock. Water was falling from high above in a fine thread just in front of the cliffside, to collect in a pool not far from the cottage and trickle away where the land dipped out of view. A little way before the cottage, just now brightly illuminated by the morning sun, was a small fenced paddock, the sole occupant of which was the goat. As usual the animal had been eating busily, but broke off to stare in astonishment at Axl and Beatrice.
The children though had remained unaware of their approach. The girl and her two younger brothers were standing at the edge of a ditch, their backs to their visitors, preoccupied with something beneath their feet. Once, one of the small boys crouched down to throw something into the ditch, provoking the girl to pull him back by the arm.
“What can they be doing, Axl?” Beatrice said. “Mischief by the look of it, and the youngest of them still small enough to tumble in without meaning to.”
When they had gone past the goat and the children still were unaware of them, Axl called out as gently as he could: “God be with you,” causing all three to spin round in alarm.
Their guilty countenances supported Beatrice’s notion that they had been up to no good, but the girl—a head taller than the two boys—recovered quickly and smiled.
“Elders! You’re welcome! We prayed to God only last night to send you and here you’ve come to us! Welcome, welcome!”
She came splashing over the marshy grass towards them, her brothers close behind.
“You mistake us, child,” Axl said. “We’re just two lost travellers, cold and weary, our clothes wet from the river where we were attacked only lately by savage pixies. Would you call your mother or father to allow us warmth and the chance to dry ourselves beside a fire?”
“We’re not mistaken, sir! We prayed to the God Jesus last night and now you’ve come! Please, elders, go inside our house, where a fire’s still burning.”
“But where are your parents, child?” Beatrice asked. “Weary as we are, we’d not intrude, and so wait for the lady or master of the house to call us through the door.”
“It’s just us three now, mistress, so you can call me lady of the house! Please go inside and warm yourselves. You’ll find food in the sack hanging from the beam, and there’s wood beside the fire to add. Go inside, elders, and we’ll not disturb your rest for a while yet, for we must see to the goat.”
“We accept your kindness gratefully, child,” Axl said. “But tell us if the nearest village is far from here.”
A shadow crossed the girl’s face, and she exchanged looks with her brothers, now lined up beside her. Then she smiled again and said: “We’re very high in the mountains here, sir. It’s far to any village, so we’d ask you to stay here with us, and the warm fire and food we offer. You must be very weary, and I see how this wind makes you both shiver. So please, no more talk of going away. Go inside and rest, elders, for we�
�ve waited for you so long!”
“What is it so interests you in that ditch there?” Beatrice asked suddenly.
“Oh, it’s nothing, mistress! Nothing at all! But here you’re standing in this wind and your clothes wet! Won’t you accept our hospitality, and rest yourselves beside our fire? See how even now its smoke rises from the roof!”
“There!” Axl took his weight from the rock and pointed. “A bird flown to the sky. Didn’t I tell you, princess, those are birds standing in a line? Do you see it climbing in the sky?”
Beatrice, who had risen to her feet a few moments before, now took a step beyond the sanctuary of their rocks, and Axl saw the wind immediately pull at her clothes.
“A bird, right enough,” she said. “But it didn’t rise from those figures yonder. It could be you still don’t see what I point to, Axl. I mean there, on the further ridge, those dark shapes almost against the sky.”
“I see them well enough, princess. But come back out of the wind.”
“Soldiers or not, they move slowly on. The bird was never one of them.”
“Come out of the wind, princess, and sit down. We must gather strength the best we can. Who knows how much further we must pull this goat?”
Beatrice came back to their shelter, holding close to herself the cloak borrowed from the children. “Axl,” she said, as she seated herself again beside him, “do you really believe it? That before the great knights and warriors, it’s a weary old couple like us, forbidden a candle in our own village, who may slay the she-dragon? And with this ill-tempered goat to aid us?”
“Who knows it’ll be so, princess. Maybe it’s all just a young girl’s wishing and nothing more. But we were grateful for her hospitality, and so we shouldn’t mind doing as she asks. And who knows she isn’t right, and Querig will be slain this way.”
“Axl, tell me. If the she-dragon’s really slain, and the mist starts to clear, Axl, do you ever fear what will then be revealed to us?”
The Buried Giant Page 24