by F M Andrews
#
The rest of the day flew by in a whirl of sights and experiences. Tilli took him to see the skills yard where the knights practiced swordplay, bowman ship, horse riding, javelin and wrestling. Turrin was enthralled, drinking in every aspect, the clash of weapons, the grit between the teeth and the smell of sweat, so that he could describe it in fine detail to Werrin one day. Then it was off to the stables to see the king’s beautiful horses. Stall after stall of proud animals observed them with bright liquid eyes as they passed, proud necks arched, their coats gleaming even in the dim light. Lastly, Tilli took him to the kitchen for some food. It wasn't until they entered the cavernous, warm, divine smelling room that Turrin realised how hungry he really was and that he hadn’t had anything to eat since breakfast, a meal that suddenly seemed such a very long time ago.
Tillissan obviously spent quite a lot of time here because there was a warm welcome from all sides as she made her way unerringly to the pantry and quickly made them both a basket full of goodies to take away.
They ate in companionable silence in a tranquil spot in the gardens, next to a pond covered in flowering water lilies, amongst which large orange fish darted. It had been a great day, one he would always cherish. Turrin sighed contentedly and lay back on the grass with his hands beneath his head and stared up at the sky. It was so peaceful here, so far away from the chaos and destruction he had been part of at the boundary. It was almost impossible to imagine that anything bad was going to happen here.
“I can’t help wondering if we did nothing, he ... whatever his name was …”
“Zail,” Tilli added quietly.
“That ... Zail won’t ever find Errin and we could just go on as we always have, apart from fighting trolls, of course.” He rolled onto his side and looked at Tilli who was feeding little chunks of bread to the circling fish. They were so tame that they almost took it out of her hand.
“It would seem like the simple fix,” she said, looking out over the pond. “But we just can't shut our eyes and pretend that we won’t be seen.” She smiled to herself and looked down at the frantic fish. “I used to do that when I was little and the whole court would play along. Everyone would pretend that they could not see me when I closed my eyes. They would bump into me or ask, “Where did she go? She was here a moment ago!” Tilli put on such ludicrous voices that Turrin laughed out loud.
She turned to look at him through her eyelashes, shyly, her head still bent. “It took me quite a while to realize that they were having me on. Very embarrassing, really, as I can remember being not as polite as I should have been, thinking people could not see me, poking out my tongue or pulling faces.” She sighed, her cheeks glowing faintly at the memory. “It was all started by Dissan of course.”
She finished her feeding and brushed her hands together to get rid of the crumbs.
“Anyway, my point is that no matter how much we believe he can’t see us it is not the truth. One day he WILL find us and he WILL destroy us unless Errin is strong enough to defeat him.” She placed both hands on the grass either side of her legs and looked at her toes and in a sad whisper added, “I think Errin is our only hope and we have to do everything we can to help her become as strong as possible.” Then taking a large breath she sat upright turned to Turrin and smiled brilliantly. “Come on, sad sack: race you back!”
#
Tilli dropped him at his door saying that she would see him at dinner later before she sauntered off down the hall. As Turrin watched her go, the realization struck him of just how quickly they had become friends and how easy it was to be in her company. Quite remarkable, really. He had to remind himself that she was a princess and not a boy from the village. A smile stole over his face as another thought struck him. Hadn’t Werrin asked him to bring a princess back? One day he would try and make that happen. His grin grew as he pictured Werrin’s face. He would have to ask Tilli to ham it up.
Turrin splashed some water on his face, washed his hands and then went looking for Errin. He felt a little guilty that he hadn’t been helping but, in reality, he would probably only be getting in the way.
After asking several servants, he finally located her in a room with lots of windows and a big table full of maps. Everyone was there and everyone was talking all at once, arms waving, fingers pointing or tapping out places of interest on the maps. Errin spied him, excused herself and made her way over to him.
“How’s your day been?” she asked.
Turrin smiled “Oh, you know, the usual, been taken on a guided tour of the palace by a princess. Nothing of note.”
“Ha, might have known you would become her pet project, she is always taking in strays.”
“A bit like someone else I know,” he jibed back.
“Touché!” Errin exclaimed, clearly delighted.
Turrin looked around at the mayhem. “When do we leave?”
Errin sighed. “Believe it or not, we are hoping that everyone can start their journeys tomorrow but ….” She left the statement hanging, looking meaningfully around the room.
“I am sure it will happen, I have seen how organised Dissan is and I am positive the palace will be just the same,” Turrin said reassuringly.
“We’ll see. Anyway, Myssan, Dissan, Surrin, you and myself will definitely be leaving in the morning. So no staying up late tonight, young man!” she admonished in a mock stern voice.
“No Ma’am,” he replied with his best impression of subservience.
It would be strange to travel without Hexrick and Fenrick but their tasks lay elsewhere. Dissan was returning to the border with a large troop who would learn all about the dos and don’ts of troll combat on the way and Errin’s group would travel with them as far as Upper Hull, for safety and for speed.
As Turrin dressed for dinner, all sorts of emotions were whirling in and out of his thoughts. He was becoming used to being part of exciting things happening. It had been wonderful to come to the palace, but now he was going home, back to everyday life, and the exciting adventure would carry on without him. On one level he was relieved that he would not have to face anymore trolls but on the other hand he knew it would be almost harder to sit at home, waiting, while those he loved were doing battle without him.
He resolved to make the most of the return journey and have as much fun as he could before everything turned to shit.
The dinner was as lively as last night’s and this time Turrin felt much more at ease. He joined in the conversation, laughed at the jokes and enjoyed the wonderful food. It seemed like no time at all before he was saying goodnight and being escorted off to bed. There were to be no more adventures for him this night.
#
The next morning dawned cloudy and grey, a slight drizzling rain putting a damper on everything. The horses stood with their heads down and the wagons were now protected by a dull green waterproof cloth that was covered in a fine beading of moisture. Sound was muted and the conversations were subdued. Salassan and Tillissan had come to see them off. Salassan tried to be jovial but Turrin noticed that when he wasn’t talking to anyone directly his face had a weary, sad cast to it. Tilli was openly pouting and split her time between hugging everyone and pleading one last time to be allowed to come along.
Anssan and his troop had left earlier in the morning for Eastrim in Rill to pick up the Lady Hezrill but Fenrick and Hexrick had come to say good bye as they would be leaving later in the day. Errin was in deep conversation with them and there was a lot of sombre nodding and feet shuffling, which showed Turrin that Errin’s advice was being taken on-board seriously.
Turrin had been given the task of making sure that the medical supplies Errin had received from Salassan were packed properly and could be easily accessed in case of emergency. He was just tying the last knot when Dissan issued the call to mount. Turrin only had time for a quick farewell hug from Fenrick and a handshake from Hexrick before he had to go to his horse. He was really pleased that it was the same horse that had served him so well on
the journey to Hope as he had got quite fond of it, but he had hardly recognised it at first as it was so glossy and well fed.
“Hello old boy, bet you’re not so pleased to see me, are you? I am sure you would rather stay here in comfort than traipse all the way back to Upper Hull with me.”
The horse turned and sniffed his hair then looked away totally disinterested as if to say, “Oh, it’s only you, and you haven’t even brought food.”
Turrin mounted and from his new vantage point, scanned the chaotic scene for Tilli. He had not had a chance to say goodbye. He looked about frantically but he could not find her anywhere. He was still squirming in the saddle, trying to see that mop of blond curly hair, when he felt a poke on his leg. He looked down and there she was.
“Safe travel and a pleasant journey,” she called up to him, her eyes red from crying although she was putting on a brave face for him.
Turrin realized that he was quite sad to be saying goodbye. He liked her. “Maybe one day you could come and visit us in Upper Hull?” he blurted. “Maybe for the harvest festival.”
“I’d like that.” She gave him a lopsided smile then waved and went to stand next to her father who absently placed a protective arm across her shoulders and drew her close.
“Mooove out!” Dissan’s command focused everyone and slowly the procession began to roll forward. There was frantic waving from all sides, a few kisses thrown and then they were passing, once more, under the shadow of the archway. Their homeward journey had begun.
Chapter Nine
Very soon they fell back into routine.
Although their world had been turned upside down, in reality it had been only four days since they had arrived. The drizzle of the day of departure set in and there were long days of misty dampness where all the colour seemed to have bled from the world. Fortunately it was not so wet that the road turned to mud, but eventually everything was damp, and as Turrin found out, damp clothes chafed in the most uncomfortable places. Mounting the long-suffering horse each morning was torture and even walking was unpleasant. Eventually the moody, misty weather broke and they rode in watery sunshine. Lines were fixed across the wagons and everybody tied their damp cloths to them to try and dry them off. After lunch of the first sunny day the majority of the troop had undressed to such a state that they were left riding in their long john underwear. Fortunately at the time they were riding through rocky, uninhabited hill country, but they still encountered the odd merchant or farmer who stared in weary disbelief at them as they passed.
Turrin took advantage of the slow steady pace to talk to everybody in order to find out as much as he could about their situation.
He loved talking with Myssan because he had read so much and knew so much about everything. He was also happy to answer any of Turrin’s questions no matter how silly they sounded. Myssan wasn’t as outwardly confident as Dissan. In fact he was shy, modest and self-effacing, yet he had a quiet, gentle kindness about him that made him very likable. Turrin soon found out that Myssan spent most of his life in the library and although he could wield a sword, shoot an arrow and ride a horse he did not enjoy these pursuits, a fact which had made him almost a recluse in the palace. On the whole, he had become a bit of a loner. This was something he himself was comfortable with as it gave him more time for reading without having to bother about silly court intrigue, which he felt often involved talking to people he was not the slightest bit interested in, about subjects he could not care less about.
Surrin was always good for a laugh and Turrin soon found out that not only did she know almost all the drinking songs, she was also happy to teach them to him, usually out of Errin’s hearing.
Dissan had presented her with a new puppy whilst they were in Hope and she had promptly named her Riana. It was still too small to run alongside the horses and so she rode in a special pouch on the saddle in front of Surrin. She spent a lot of time dossing, as young puppies do, but when she was awake Surrin would carefully fondle her soft ears and sing softly to her. Turrin noticed that at these times Surrin would have a faraway look in her eye as if she were remembering the other Riana. She had been the best reward Dissan could have presented Surrin with. In the evenings the whole camp would be the puppy’s playground and she was everywhere, chewing on guide ropes, upsetting buckets, running between legs and generally bringing a smile to everyone’s faces. Surrin had begun training her but she was still so young that no one could possibly become cross with her even when presented with a well chewed shoe or two. Riana also seemed to have taken quite a shine to Turrin and would sometimes follow him around all evening until Surrin came looking for her.
The chill nights were drawing in and there was often a sprinkling of frost in the morning coating the ground, turning shallow puddles into panes of patterned ice and outlining leaves in a fury, white mantle. The air was crisp on these days and everybody's breath became visible as clouds of vapour floating about their heads. Taking the long route home would add almost a moon to their journey but when a thunderstorm lashed through the camp one evening and the driving rain, which eventually turned to lancing hail, prevented the next day's travel it became apparent that navigating the passes at this time of year would have been impossible. If it had been this bad in the low lands, it would have been an impenetrable blizzard in the mountains.
The route, however, did take them directly through the largest forest in Feld and although the leaves had turned and indeed the majority of trees were now rather bare, it was still very beautiful. Errin was in raptures of delight and was often side tracked as she went to gather some herb or other that she had spied along the way. She would always take Turrin and explain what the herb was, where it liked to grow, what it was used for and how to dry and prepare it. She had a large leather satchel in which she kept these herbs, each tied in their own separate bundle. After a few of these excursions, Myssan became interested and began to tag along. He proved a quick study and was soon scanning the forest himself, pointing out new plants and asking if they were useful.
The journey itself had lulled Turrin into a false sense of wellbeing. He felt safe, loved and part of a group of people who had a common goal. He hadn't even had his nightmare for a while, but at the back of his mind, always prodding, a bit like Tillissan, he thought smiling, was the awful knowledge that an evil entity was stalking Errin. Zail was determined to find her, and the possibility that he just might destroy Feld to do it was very real. He knew in his heart of hearts, that at the end of the journey, Myssan would be sent to face unknown dangers, Dissan would go to defend the boundary against the onslaught of trolls and, ultimately, once Errin had regained her powers she would have to go into battle, alone against this unimaginable foe. And so was not surprising that Turrin wanted to just enjoy the days as they came and not look too far into the future.
#
Fenrick sighed.
It had taken him nearly half a moon to get to Rick and another few days to reach the small village of Millstream and he was tired. The trouble with being a well-known bard is that every village he passed through wanted a song or a story and although this usually meant free food and board, it also meant late nights and, often, a sore head in the morning as it would be just plain rude to refuse the finest alcoholic beverage each village had to offer. Now, finally, he sat on his horse looking down on the small settlement, carved out of the forest, straddling a tumbling brook and realised that the more pleasant segment of his journey was coming to an end.
He knew the village well as he had made it his duty to keep an eye on the gifted girls as they grew up. Their mother and father ran the mill and were very pleasant people; however, they had never been able to rein in their twin girls, in any way. They were truly wild creatures who followed any whim that took them. The poor miller had confessed to Fenrick once that he had given up on them and that he had no hope of ever taming them. The girls themselves were inseparable and together they were a force greater than the sum of the individuals. Fenrick was definitely n
ot looking forward to escorting them for the next half-moon that it would take to travel to Upper Hull and he was positive that he would have acquired a lot more grey hair by the end of the journey.
He cast a wary eye at the sky. The temperature was dropping and the first stirrings of a cold wind from the East was tugging at his cloak, gently lifting his horse's mane and tail and ruffling the few leaves left on the trees in the valley. He could smell the rain on the wind and the dark, menacing clouds over the distant hills told the rest of the story.
If he wanted to stay dry he would have to make his way down the hill to the village soon.
“Come on, be a man! Let’s get this over with,” he told himself and taking a last, deep breath of freedom he quietly urged his horse forward.
As usual he was welcomed with open arms, and in no time word had spread and the entire population of Millstream was packed into the inn asking for news. Millstream was tucked in a quiet corner of Feld, away from the main through roads and because of this they seldom had news of the rest of the world. Fenrick could not only bring them news from throughout Feld, but he was also privy to the news of the palace and the royal family. As he sat on his stool gazing out at his wide-eyed, exuberant audience it struck him that they were totally unaware of the danger Feld was about to face and he decided that, as a kindness, he would not enlighten them. There was nothing they could do about it except worry, so instead he regaled them with happy tidings and silly stories.
As Fenrick scanned the room he spotted Phatrick[CL13] the miller and his wife, Javrick, but as he expected there was no sign of the girls. Eventually, when all the questions had been answered, he excused himself, promising that he would sing for them later, after he had had some supper, and of course some liquid refreshment. Then, carrying a tray with three glasses of frothing ale, he and made his way over to the twins’ parents’ table. During his journey to Millstream he had thought a lot about the best way to explain the situation and ask for the girls’ help but in the end he had come to the conclusion that, if they had been his children, he would probably be quite pleased to have a break from them.