Chapter 17
Dart appeared to share his master’s sense of urgency. He knew the forest well, and took the path at a good pace, even though Darin could see almost nothing of what lay before them. By the time daylight started showing through the trees, they had put a considerable distance between themselves and the castle.
Darin strained his eyes to peer up ahead, his nerves still taut as bowstrings after his harrowing experience. All at once, even before he was conscious of what he had seen, he stopped Dart in his tracks and silenced him with a gentle hand on his neck. Sixty yards further down the path lay a small clearing; in the centre, an armed man stood with his back to him, adjusting the saddle-straps of a big grey war-horse.
In his present state of uneasiness, Darin had no wish to meet anyone, and certainly not before he had ascertained what manner of man he might have to deal with. Swiftly and soundlessly, he dismounted. He led Dart into the trees and tethered him there, out of sight of the path. Then he crept forward and crouched behind a ragged holly bush where he had a partial view of the clearing. In addition to the man he had just seen, two others were lying on the ground, apparently asleep. Their horses stood nearby. All three men were obviously knights.
The first man turned round. Darin recognized him at once; it was Sir Agravain.
“Come on, wake up, you two!” said Agravain. “We must be on our way if we want to catch that young blackguard.”
Darin was glad he had kept out of sight. Ever since he been at court, he had done his best to avoid Sir Agravain. He had wanted to tell the king all about the arrogant knight’s treatment of his mother, but his father had instructed him to say nothing. For now, it was a personal matter. Karman would speak with Agravain and keep a watchful eye on him. He would only involve Arthur if he saw evidence that Sir Agravain harboured treacherous intentions against the realm—as he half suspected to be the case.
The two other knights were now awake. One of them sat up. It was Sir Gareth, a good and generous man, much loved by Arthur and all his fellowship.
“Easy, Agravain!” grumbled Gareth. “And don’t speak about young Darin that way! If Arthur had wanted him arrested like a criminal, he wouldn’t have chosen us for the job. We are to approach him courteously and tell him the King requires his presence. I have no doubt he will come with us readily enough. I cannot believe him to be guilty of any underhand business!”
The third knight, meanwhile, had got up and gone over to the horses. “No, cousin, I don’t think it’s likely, either,” he said.
Behind his holly bush, Darin listened to all this, incredulous. Three important knights had been sent for him, and he was suspected of some dishonourable crime! His first instinct was to jump out of his hiding-place, protesting his innocence, but the presence of Sir Agravain restrained him.
“Hah, that may well be!” barked Agravain. “But that doesn’t change the fact that we should be on our way. Guilty or not, we must waste no more time bringing him to trial.”
Darin watched as the three knights mounted their steeds. In due course, he would present himself at court, he decided; not under guard, but of his own free will, to face anyone who dared challenge his honour. First, however, he must speak with Stella. Whatever it was these knights had been talking about, it seemed somehow to be part of the same nightmare as last night’s eerie visitation. Now more than ever he needed the counsel of someone who had knowledge of things beyond the world of ordinary human affairs.
When the riders were out of earshot at last, he ran back to where Dart was waiting patiently. “Come on, boy,” he urged. “We must get to the stream as fast as we can.”
By now the sun was up. The stream was still a long ride away, but they had started out very early. If they could keep up a steady canter, galloping whenever the track allowed it, Darin calculated they could be there by midday.
As he rode on, mulling over the disturbing events of the last few hours, his anxiety was mixed with a certain sense of excitement at the thought of maybe seeing the golden-haired damsel once more. Would she be there? Would she show herself? He felt sure that one glance from those clear blue eyes would make him strong enough to face whatever the world might have in store for him.
It was indeed about midday when they emerged from the trees and looked down the grassy slope at the rushing stream below. Darin had passed this place not long before on his way from Camelot to visit his parents, but the scene still had the power to stir up a host of mingled emotions and memories. He had looked into the rock-pool again, but had seen nothing but his own, anxious face staring up at him. He still had no clear understanding of what had happened to him the day he killed the deer and saw that hideous reflection. Broderic was sure it had all been the work of ‘that faerie creature,’ but Darin did not want to believe him.
He dismounted and led Dart down to the stream, where they both refreshed themselves. He looked around, up and down the narrow valley and along the edge of the forest at either side of it.
“Stella!” he shouted. “Stella! Are you there?”
His voice came echoing back at him from the trees. The stream was chattering noisily, but the sound of it was not right inside his head, as it had been on that strange day. He could clearly hear birds singing somewhere, but he could see no sign of life.
“Stella! Stella!” Again, his voice rolled back to him. “Please, I must speak with you. If you are there, show yourself!”
Once more, he scanned the trees and the length of the rocky stream. A gleam at the edge of the forest caught his eye. What had seemed like a ray of sunshine, caught and fragmented by the leafy branches, was suddenly transformed into long tresses of golden curls; a glimmer of white moved quickly through the shadows, revealing itself as a yellow-trimmed gown. Stella appeared at the top of the rise on the other side of the stream.
She gazed down at him in silence as he stood there, heart beating.
Keepers of the Western Forest Page 17
