by R. E. Palmer
Toryn stood on his toes. ’Can’t see a thing yet.’
‘Be patient.’ Hamar put the flask back in his rucksack. ‘We’ll be better off on the other side of this ridge. Don’t want to be standing like two statues with the moon rising. Other folk mad enough to be up at this hour would soon spy us up here.’ He paced a short distance. ‘That rock over there will do.’
They crossed the top of the ridge and walked the short distance to a large rock. Hamar sat at the foot. ‘Good to get out of that chilly breeze, eh.’
Toryn eased his tired legs and sat beside him. ‘Did you…?’
‘Did I what?’ Hamar rummaged inside his rucksack and pulled out a bundle of cloth. ‘Ham? It’s keeping well with it being cooler up here.’
Toryn nodded. ‘I’ll take a slice, thanks.’
‘Bread? Best finish it before it goes too hard and breaks our teeth.’ He tore off a chunk and handed it to Toryn. ‘So? Did I what?’
‘Did you dream? Last night, at the stone.’
Hamar smiled. ‘I wondered when you’d ask.’ He nodded. ‘Oh yes, we all had them at the stones.’ He took a bite of ham. ‘Did you see a woman?’
Toryn’s face tingled as it had the previous night. ‘I saw someone, couldn’t tell if it was a woman.’
Hamar finished chewing. ‘She’s a woman alright.’ He pointed his bread at Toryn as he spoke. ‘To some in my company, she appeared as their mother, others said their wives, and’ — he chuckled — ‘a few young ones swore she was an Amayan rider who was only too happy to... well, you know what I mean. Strange what being away from home so long can do to your head.’
‘It didn’t feel like a dream, though. I’m sure I’d woken from one, an odd one at that.’
‘It’s the stone. There’s a magical power in them. Can change a man.’ His eyes wandered to the rock behind them. ‘How did she appear to you? Like your mother?’ He grinned. ‘Or an Amayan?’
Toryn tried to recall. ‘Neither, but I can’t say for sure, I saw only a dark figure. She spoke. Could have been talking to me, or herself, I couldn’t tell because I didn’t know the tongue.’
Hamar sighed. ‘Shame, I can still remember mine clearly.’ The creases on his brow faded as he smirked. ‘Always the Amayan for me back in the day. But last night it was my dear mother.’
‘But the voices, the singing. What about the singing?’
Hamar scratched his head. ‘No, can’t say I heard a song.’ He smirked. ‘Mind you, in my younger days I’d have been so distracted I doubt I’d notice, even if serenaded by the Maidens accompanied by a choir of faeries.’
‘It sounded beautiful, like one of my mother’s. If I was unwell, she’d sing and help me sleep.’
Hamar laughed. ‘Miram? Sing? Begging your pardon, I know she’s your… mother, and I have the deepest respect and all, but help you off to sleep? You’d more likely have to leave the room if she sang.’
Toryn glowered at Hamar. ‘Well, you’re wrong, she has a wonderful voice.’
‘Then she must’ve saved the best for you.’ He turned. ‘Here it comes.’ Toryn stood. The rim of the moon peered over the top of a jagged, dark ridge cutting right across the horizon as if a giant plow had pushed up the land. Hamar joined him and nudged his shoulder. ‘Just you wait.’
Toryn held his breath as the moon climbed higher, etching out the sharp line of the mountains against the lighter sky. Three ominous peaks dominated the range, with the tallest overshadowing her two sisters. From this distance, Toryn had to tilt his head right back to see the lofty pinnacle of Caranach. His eyes grew wider as moonlight kissed the snow-clad upper reaches on the south facing peak. Like the noble blade of a warrior of old, Caranach’s silver peak thrust impossibly high, threatening to tear the delicate fabric of the night sky stretched thin as it spanned the world. Toryn stared, convinced he could see the stars bunching where the mighty blade’s tip snagged the sparkling sheet.
Hamar whispered. ‘Hard to believe Caranach is the furthest away of the three.’ He glanced at Toryn. ‘And satisfying to know, the vaults holding the demons are as deep as the mountain is high.’
But Toryn was in no mood to debate the myths. He peered at the darker smears on the mountain. ‘One day I’m going to stand on the top and touch the sky.’
‘Then you’ll be the first. Many have tried, but most don’t make it to the lower reaches. Brutal place, the Kolossos Mountains, with many strange beings who won’t tolerate you tramping over their slopes.’
‘They wouldn’t stop me.’
Hamar smiled to himself. ‘You’ll be needing an army then.’
‘Or my father.’ A flickering light in the valley caught Toryn’s eye, quickly joined by another. He instinctively crouched. ‘What’s going on?’
Hamar squinted. ‘That’ll be the farmers of Caran starting their day early… and a sign for us to move off this ridge.’ He clicked his tongue. ‘Shame I couldn’t pop down and see old Bonnar.’
‘Older than you?’ Toryn smirked.
‘I’ll ignore that. But I guess there’ll be another time.’ Hamar pointed to the path. ‘On we go.’
Toryn bent to pick up his pack and took one more look at Caranach. He felt suddenly drawn towards it, as if the ground did indeed sag under its immense weight. The mountain demanded his attention, his awe, and his loyalty. It was as if it held a secret from the dawn of time, a secret he had to discover. And once revealed, he would—
‘Come on, lad. Take your eyes off it, we have to be making tracks.’
Toryn turned away. He nodded to the lights in the valley. ‘When did you last visit?’
‘The Vale?’ Hamar headed off down the slope. ‘Must be a couple of years back. Good soil. Gets plenty of rain as the clouds shed their load to make it over the mountains. And, of course, those peaks shelter it from the worst of those bitter north easterlies.’
Toryn counted four more lights. ‘Be nice to speak to them. I wonder if any have been to the mountains.’
‘They’ll be like us. Folk don’t change a great deal until much further north.’ He rubbed his hands together. ‘It’s the harsh winters, not to mention the unwanted attention from the clans of Nordruuk.’ He patted Toryn on the back. ‘That way, lad. Step lively now. It’ll take us down to the woodlands and on into Noor. Then you’ll get your wish. The landscape changes dramatically from there on.’
‘How far is Greendell from the edge of the realms?’
Hamar rubbed his chin. ‘Must be at least sixty, maybe even seventy leagues, I’d say.’ He nodded. ‘Yes, about an eight-day brisk hike, depending on the weather. That and the terrain don’t make for easy going.’
‘Shush!’ Toryn grabbed Hamar’s arm. ‘There’s someone behind.’ They crouched in the long grass. Toryn whispered. ‘I heard the grass swish.’ He squinted. ‘Can’t see anything in this light.’
‘Look out the sides of your eyes. You’ll see better.’
Toryn held his breath. ‘No, still nothing.’
Hamar crept beside him. ‘Could be a brock on his way back to his hole. They can grow to quite a size.’
Toryn rose to his heels. ‘You’re probably right. I doubt any other fool would be up at this hour.’
Toryn groaned. He missed home and would give anything to stretch out on his bed for one night. He rolled on to his side and rubbed his lower back. He had been so tired he had not noticed the tree root jutting out from the undergrowth where they had rested — but he could feel it now. Hamar still slept, curled into a ball between two twisted roots. Above, the leaden sky bore down on the treetops, bending the branches until they creaked under the weight.
Toryn climbed to his feet. It was a short walk to the edge of the wood, and a safe distance from the small settlement below in the Vale. Hamar snored. Toryn guessed it would be a while longer before he would wake. He crept away and headed for the open ground. It felt good to be walking in daylight again, and he soon found what he longed to see. Rising unchallenged by the lesser mountains in the
range, Caranach climbed high, capturing passing clouds on its peak. If anything, the westerly slopes appeared steeper and more treacherous than those visible from his home. It would be harder going than he had imagined, but he knew he could find a way.
Toryn risked stepping out of the trees. The ground sloped gently down to the Vale. In the distance, a lone horse pulled a cart across a bridge towards the tiny village. Hamar was right: this could be his home. Back in Midwyche, Andryn and Jerrum would be riding the cart back home after a day laying the new fence; Miram would be in the kitchen preparing a meagre dinner; and what of Elrik? How far had he and the others traveled south?
Toryn glanced back to the ridge behind the trees. Had the guard sent anyone after him? Surely, he was not worth the effort. He sat on the damp grass and looked back to the village. Hamar had told him of the countless settlements left to rot, abandoned following the so-called victory over the invaders from the south. Toryn could not begin to imagine the suffering of his unsuspecting people as they endured the bitter legacy of their triumph. First came the deadly plague. Too late did they discover their defeated foe had infected livestock with some foul concoction that spread rapidly through the weakened population. But if the survivors thought they could recover come spring, they were cruelly deceived. The green shoots that should have signaled the rebirth of the realms, emerged gray and withered, corrupted by poisoned soil that took a generation to cleanse.
Toryn shook the image from his head, grateful he had not lived in such times. The village below flourished. Wisps of smoke rose from dozens of houses clustered around a square in the middle, and he swore he could smell freshly baked bread. But the mountain drew his attention. Did a young man from the village below share the same dream of climbing Caranach?
The sun broke through the clouds, spilling its light along a narrow strip close to the edge of the mountains. Toryn stood to get a better view. A white tower glistened at the foot of a sheer cliff as it thrust up from the green slopes of the foothills. It had to be the Darrow Watchtower at the mouth of the Kolossos Pass. Long before anyone could remember, their ancestors had constructed the route through the mountains to allow faster trade between the east and west. Hamar spoke of the engineers and builders of old, whose skills easily surpassed those available to the Archon. Unimaginable today, they had built both the passes of the Caerwal and Kolossos ranges. Toryn laughed as he remembered Hamar’s jibe that the only thing the engineers at Archonholm could pass these days was wind.
He followed the hard line of the shadow. Without the pass, the journey south to skirt the range would take a full month longer, thus preventing trade in food at the time. But as Hamar had told him, the inhabitants of the mountains had resented the intrusion and regularly attacked the convoys. They had built garrisons at both sides and several smaller forts along the route, thus enabling the pass to function. But following the restrictions on movement after the war, only the Archon’s forces were allowed access, and even they preferred to avoid the passage fraught with danger. The pass was all but sealed with watchtowers posted at the east and west garrisons.
He jumped. A flash briefly bathed the middle slopes of Caranach with an unnatural light. He took a few steps forward. Was that smoke? A dark smudge climbed the north face, fading as it dispersed the higher it floated.
‘Thought I’d find you here.’ Toryn turned. Hamar grinned. ‘Knew you wouldn’t be able to resist the view.’
Toryn blinked away the after image. ‘Did you see that flash?’
‘Lightning. Has to be.’
‘No, not lightning, it was green.’ He pointed. ‘Over there. In the pass.’
Hamar peered at the mountains. ‘It’s a long way off. Could be your eyes were tricked.’
‘I don’t think so. I’m sure it was green.’
‘Most likely cobs then. The pass has been all but closed for decades.’ He mumbled. ‘Likely up to no good again.’ He turned back to the trees. ‘We’ll mention it to the guards when… oh wait, we can’t, we’re not supposed to be here.’
Toryn followed Hamar back to their campsite. ‘Did you ever see one?’
‘A cobtroll? No, but that doesn’t mean they don’t venture out. A guard in my company saw one. Stooped little chap, but with strong arms and legs. Very pale, apparently. Had enormous eyes and a large head too heavy for its scrawny neck to hold. Mind you, he said it could move quick when it had too. We used to hear stories of them kidnapping young children from settlements in the Vale.’
‘Children?’ Toryn shuddered. ‘What did they do with them?’
‘Can’t be sure if the stories were true, or just used to scare the little blighters to come in at night and go to bed.’
‘Still, not a nice one to tell your children.’
They reached their spot. Hamar shrugged. ‘Well, they shouldn’t bother us here, I doubt they’ll come this far from the mountains without cover.’ He checked the sky between the treetops. ‘Hope the weather is kind to us for a few days longer. If we push on, we’ll cross into Noor this evening where the hills won’t be so gentle. We can’t use the main bridge so you’ll get your feet wet. The Great Elda widens out after the fence.’
‘So how are we going to cross?’
‘There’s a ruin of an old bridge further down river we can reach by wading out. Shouldn’t come higher than your belly before we reach it.’ Hamar crouched, pulled a knife from his pack, and licked his lips. ‘Now let’s see if my trap has caught us a tasty breakfast.’
12. to Sing no More
Toryn pulled his blanket tighter. ‘It’s definitely growing colder. My clothes still feel wet from the Elda, and that was two days ago. Shame we can’t light a fire.’
Hamar nodded. ‘Once we reach them hills yonder, we might risk a small one. Pity, I could do with a smoke right now.’ He shuddered. ‘I don’t think spring will show her face around these parts for a while longer.’
Toryn rubbed his hand. ‘You were right about Noor’s fence being sturdier.’ He held up his finger. ‘Got a nasty splinter squeezing through that one.’
Hamar tried to laugh but only shivered. ‘The going will become a little hairy before long. We’ll be heading up that valley across from this lake. Nice and easy to start but turns into a ravine further up.’ He winced. ‘Lost a man there once. Poor lad. First month of his service. Slipped, went over the edge onto the rocks below, and turned the rapids red. Very narrow path, more of a ledge really. We’ll have to travel by day, too dangerous in the dark.’
Toryn reached into his rucksack and pulled out the map. ‘Isn’t there another way?’ He flattened out the tattered cloth. ‘I seem to remember a road running through to the mines.’ He peered at the faint lines, but the clouds dulled the light of the moon.
Hamar squinted at the map. ‘There are two. We can’t risk the Great Northwest Road.’ He pointed. ‘It’s that way. While it would be further, it’s certainly easier, but it’s the major route for deliveries from Drunsberg, escorted by the Archon’s men. They’ll be on the lookout for suspicious folk. And I should know, did the same journey a dozen times taking silver and ore to the jewelers and smithies at Archonholm.’
‘And the other route? You said two.’
‘Worse than the first.’
Toryn sighed. ‘Thought you’d say that.’
‘Sorry, lad, not my fault. I didn’t make the world the way it is.’
‘What’s wrong with the second route?’
Hamar ran his hand through his tangled hair. ‘It would take us well out of our way and onto the road to Calerdorn. Would love to see it again before I’m done. Only went the once. Shame, such a beautiful city, centuries old with more spires than a huckle has spikes. But anyways, there’ll only be more guards on the crossings.’ He stretched out his back. ‘Sorry. The ravine it is.’
Toryn reached back into his pack. ‘I suppose it would be good practice for when I climb the mountains.’ He pulled out the cheese and unwrapped it. He passed it to Hamar. ‘That’s the last piece.’
Hamar handed it back. ‘You have it, you’ll need your strength for the road ahead.’
‘Thanks.’ Toryn took a bite and chewed slowly, wanting to make it last. How long would he have to wait to taste his mother’s food again? ‘But what about you? You need to eat.’
‘I’ve got some dried meat.’ He glanced over this shoulder. ‘If the moon comes out full, we could catch ourselves a fish or two.’ On cue, the moon peered around the edge of a cloud as if gazing upon its reflection in the still waters.
Toryn laughed. ‘I see your fairy folk have lit the lantern again.’ He looked to the lake. ‘Not a breath of wind. Makes it look like glass.’
‘See, still on our side. A couple of fish would see us right until we get to Greendell, and they’ll taste far better than the tough, small creatures we’ll find around these parts.’ He stood and scanned the low line of hills on the opposite side of the lake. ‘But that’ll be only two days anyhow.’ He walked to the shore.
Toryn called over. ‘Something wrong?’
Hamar smiled. ‘Not wrong, not wrong at all.’ He pointed to the hills. ‘It may be dangerous, but I reckon we should find another one of those stones.’ He nodded. ‘Yes, I’m sure of it. The Archon rewarded us handsomely for reporting its location. Brought myself a decent sword and a comfortable pair of boots.’ He turned and scratched his head. ‘Now, just need to remember how it was hidden. Sure, it will come back to me as we get close.’
Hamar waded into the water and bent. ‘Ah yes, we’ve enough light to see the little silvery fellows.’ He motioned to Toryn. ‘Come on, lad. The fish will be close to surface now, coming up to the warmer water.’ He shivered. ‘Not that it feels too warm to me.’ Toryn strolled to the edge. Hamar held up a hand. ‘Nice and slow, don’t want to frighten our supper away.’
Toryn stood on the riverbank. The fast-flowing water glistened despite the clouds obscuring the moon. He turned to face the south. Elrik would be in the warmer parts of the realms by now. He wished he could be with his friend, and not only because of the weather. By the time winter came, Elrik would be ready to join the Archonian Guard, whereas he would be… what? Still hiding in Greendell tending livestock? He thought of Elrik wearing his guard’s armor with a heavy sword on his belt, ready to serve the Archon. Toryn could only picture himself standing in a damp field, wrapped in a cowherd’s smock smeared with mud and dung.