Silvermay

by James Moloney

  Her words cut my heart in two. Before I could piece it together again, Tamlyn appeared with his horse. So quickly, I thought. Would I even have a minute to make up my mind?

  Birdie called to him and, when he joined us, wasted no time. ‘Silvermay must go with you.’

  ‘No, it wouldn’t be right,’ he said immediately.

  He seemed to surprise himself with his blunt reply. Looking at me, his eyes softened. If that wasn’t enough to confuse me, he touched my arm as he’d done in this very spot when we’d met under the stars. I wasn’t the only one confused, I realised.

  ‘I mean … you … you would be a great help, Silvermay,’ he stammered, ‘of course you would, but I can’t allow it.’

  ‘She’ll be more than a help,’ said Birdie. ‘With Silvermay, mother and child will survive till you get to where you’re going. Without her, you might lose them both.’

  My father must have seen Tamlyn leading his horse through the village because he came hurrying along the lane now, too.

  ‘You’re leaving?’ he said. When he heard what we were discussing, he agreed with Birdie. ‘Yes, Silvermay must go with you.’

  Tamlyn shook his head. ‘There’s too much I haven’t told you. Hard men are looking for Nerigold and me. You wouldn’t send your daughter with us if you knew the danger.’ With a brief glance to be sure others weren’t close enough to hear, he went on, ‘You’ve already guessed that we were fleeing when we arrived in Haywode.’

  This brought cautious nods from us all.

  ‘From disapproving parents, we thought,’ said my father.

  ‘I wish it was no more than that,’ said Tamlyn. ‘There are powerful forces in Vonne that want us captured. It’s better that you don’t know why. I was hoping to make it to the coast before the search for us widened, but when we reached here …’ He shrugged his shoulders; there was no need to explain. ‘You’ve been very good to us, you especially, Birdie. And, Silvermay, you’re like a second mother to Lucien. I wish we could stay here forever, honestly I do, but this morning in the forest I felt the first chill of an autumn breeze. It brought me to my senses. We have to move on before it’s too cold to travel.’

  He carefully avoided my eyes when he said this. There had been no cold breeze in the forest this morning. Still, I stayed silent as my father asked, ‘Where will you go?’

  ‘I’m not sure. Whatever happens, I’ll find some refuge for us, but it’s vital that you don’t know what I have in mind. So you see, even I don’t know what will become of us. You can’t send your daughter off to face the same fate.’

  ‘You’re an honest man. We’ve never doubted that. It’s good of you to tell us.’ Birdie turned to me. ‘Silvermay, help Nerigold get ready and say goodbye to your little Smiler. You’re staying here with us, after all.’

  I didn’t move. Since my mother had marched me out of the house, I’d fought against her demands, and now that she’d turned them round completely, I was fighting them again.

  ‘You won’t look for another village, will you?’ I asked Tamlyn. ‘Because they’ll find you, just as they’d find you here.’

  ‘I can’t tell you, Silvermay.’

  ‘Winter is coming and you’ll spend long hours in the open.’

  This time Tamlyn made no reply. Perhaps he already knew what was in my mind. Perhaps he could see the same image that taunted me: Nerigold shivering from long days without food. She was weak. On the road, she would need more help than ever. Before I quite knew what I was doing, I said, ‘I’m coming with you.’

  Tamlyn didn’t dismiss me so bluntly this time. ‘You’re a brave girl, Silvermay. I’ve seen that in you since the first day, and I know how much you love Nerigold and Lucien.’

  Did he also know that I loved him, I asked myself.

  ‘But you must understand the danger,’ he went on. ‘If we’re captured, it’s only the three of us they want. They might let you return to Haywode, but they might just as easily kill you.’

  ‘I’ve already thought of that,’ I told him recklessly, ‘but what my mother said is still true. Without me, you might lose them both and I can’t let that happen.’

  My parents frowned with worry, but I saw pride in their faces, too. Birdie would have done the same thing when she was sixteen.

  So many emotions passed across Tamlyn’s face, until finally he said, ‘Come with us, then, as far as you dare and I’ll be grateful for every mile.’

  With the decision made, he was more anxious than ever to leave. He turned to my parents. ‘Before much longer, men will come looking for us. You must tell them everything you know, everything that’s happened since we arrived, that Nerigold was sick and you helped us out of kindness and …’ He’d been speaking in a rush, but suddenly he stopped and repeated his last word. ‘Kindness.’ For some reason, the word struck him as odd. ‘Actually, no,’ he said slowly, as though his thoughts were knitting together as he spoke. ‘When they come, have that innkeeper talk to them. He disliked us from the first, and they will feel a kindred spirit in his mean heart. Have him point out the direction we take. Hold nothing back. If they sense any deception at all, they’ll destroy the entire village.’

  The horse was laden with as much food as Birdie could find space for. Then she unfolded a small woollen blanket she had brought back from the mountains of Nan Tocha and showed it to Nerigold. ‘This is for Lucien, to keep him warm on cold winter nights.’

  My father offered gifts of his own: a bow and a quiver of arrows. ‘For you, Silvermay.’ As he hooked them over the saddle, he turned briefly to Tamlyn. ‘She knows how to use them, too.’

  ‘So I’ve heard,’ Tamlyn replied, with a wicked glance in my direction.

  I blushed. Had he known I was exaggerating when I’d boasted of my skill?

  The bow was no ordinary weapon. Most bows were longer than I was tall, but this one barely reached my waist if I put one tip on the ground. My father had brought it back from Vonne, where he’d traded it for one of his hawks. ‘It’s from another land,’ he told everyone in Haywode who cared to inspect it. ‘See the bone laid between the wood. Very strong for its size.’

  That bow had been his most prized possession and he was giving it to me. I kissed him and followed the others to the high road. There, my father took the sword from his belt and passed it into Tamlyn’s hands. ‘Take this, it’s yours.’

  ‘No, not mine,’ said Tamlyn and he wouldn’t even reach out for the scabbard.

  Father insisted. ‘A bow isn’t much use at close quarters.’

  I could see Tamlyn wanted the sword but something about it held him back. After a moment, he said, ‘I’m honoured to carry your sword, Ossin. One day I will return it to you. The same goes for Silvermay. Until then, I’ll take good care of them both.’

  There was nothing more to say and so, three weeks after they had led their horse into Haywode, Tamlyn and Nerigold finally departed; and I went with them, carrying their baby in my arms.

  7

  Deer Hunting

  We were barely out of sight of the village when Nerigold spoke up brightly from the horse’s back. ‘We don’t have to call you by that ugly name any more.’

  Tamlyn turned and walked backwards for a moment to answer. ‘I’ve spent three weeks wishing I’d invented a better one. But we have to keep it for a while yet. We can’t let my real name slip free.’

  He winked at me as he said this but that didn’t stop me wondering. Why hide his name and leave Nerigold’s unchanged?

  We passed through Whittlefinch, a hamlet barely longer than its name, and put another mile behind us before Lucien announced he was hungry. Tamlyn helped Nerigold down from the horse and settled her in the shade of an oak tree where she took the bawling bundle from my arms.

  ‘Silvermay,’ Tamlyn called, motioning with his hand to draw me away from Nerigold and continuing on another dozen paces until he was staring into the trees. ‘You told me once how you’d been hunting with your father. Did he take you into these woods to
the north?’

  ‘Yes, many times,’ I answered. ‘Once we camped overnight and continued further the next day. After that, the ground rises steadily and not much game ventures up the slopes.’

  ‘There are tracks through the woods, then; tracks you could find your way along?’

  ‘Yes,’ I said again. It wasn’t hard to guess why he was asking. ‘I could lead us for two days’ journey, if that’s what you want.’

  ‘I’ve been counting on it,’ he said and then, dropping his head a little, he went on more sheepishly than I’d ever heard him speak. ‘I must admit, it’s why I didn’t argue more strongly that you stay behind.’

  ‘You’re taking Nerigold north, then?’

  ‘To Nan Tocha. That’s another reason you make such a good guide for us. You know a little of the mountains.’

  ‘As long as you don’t ask me to go down a mine.’

  I didn’t know whether I should be grateful for his honesty or disappointed that he hadn’t let me come for some other reason, one that best went without a name. I distracted myself by thinking of the distant mountains I’d visited with my mother years ago. What refuge would Tamlyn and Nerigold find there, especially with winter not far away? Nan Tocha could get very cold.

  Nerigold needed to rest after Lucien was finished with her, but by mid-afternoon we were well into the trees, with Silvermay Hawker leading the way as confidently as I could and proud that I was able to help in such an important way. Mother was right when she’d said I needed the skills of a boy and this meant knowing my way around the woods, as well. I felt a twinge of guilt that I hadn’t always been a willing pupil.

  I had a chance to test at least one of my boyish skills the following day. We’d camped by a stream overnight and made good progress through the morning. While Nerigold rested after Lucien’s noonday feed, I saw something move among the trees a hundred paces away. My heart jumped. Had they caught us already?

  ‘A deer,’ Tamlyn whispered.

  My heart sank back from the base of my throat and my eyes focused more keenly on the movement. I spotted the deer, half hidden among the narrow birch trunks. ‘It’s upwind. Hasn’t seen us yet.’

  Every morsel of food was precious. The longer we could preserve what we’d brought with us from Haywode, the further we could go without looking for fresh supplies. Moving cautiously, I unhooked the bow from the horse’s flank, took a single arrow from the quiver and crept towards the little deer.

  Tamlyn followed, which doubled the chance that we’d be detected. Deer have the sharpest ears in the forest. How many times had my father told me that? I turned and shook my head, hoping Tamlyn would take the hint, but he came on after me undeterred.

  The deer was grazing among the trees, pausing briefly to chew at a lush tussock of grass, but moving on before I could find a clear line for the arrow. Three times I had the bowstring drawn back to my cheek, only to see the target shift before I could send the deadly arrow on its way.

  My frustration escaped in a sigh that made the deer’s ears twitch. I’d brought only one arrow because I would get only one chance. If I missed or a poor shot saw the arrow glance off its hide, the skittish thing would be off into the woods like a bolt of lightning.

  I was waiting patiently for another chance when the bow was plucked from my hands. What was Tamlyn doing? I didn’t dare say a word out loud in case I alerted the prey. To my dismay, he fitted the arrow into place and sighted as I had done. There was no gap through the trees from where he was standing, but, before I could stop him, he released the arrow. It managed to miss the bark and overhanging leaves and for that I was grateful, but he hadn’t aimed high enough and I could only watch as the arrow fell short and disappeared.

  The twang of bowstring was enough to frighten the deer. It was gone before I could blink.

  ‘What did you do that for?’ I said. ‘A bit more patience and I had him.’

  Tamlyn offered no apology. Without so much as a word he went off to retrieve the wasted arrow.

  ‘Not much use now!’ I shouted after him. ‘That arrow should be stuck in the side of tonight’s dinner.’

  The woods echoed with my anger. It was a sensation I liked and I found myself following behind him, more fury spilling from my reckless mouth.

  He had found the arrow and bent low to pick it up off the ground. When I came up behind him, he turned and I gasped. Skewered on the shaft of the arrow was a startled-looking rabbit, its eyes still open as they’d been when the arrow passed through its tiny heart.

  ‘You weren’t aiming at the deer at all,’ I said, trying to make sense of what I’d seen.

  ‘No, it was more than we needed,’ he agreed as though he had planned the appearance of both the deer and the rabbit just to make his point. ‘We’d end up leaving most of the carcass rotting here in the woods as a signpost. The rabbit will suit us better and we can bury the bones.’

  ‘But to kill a rabbit at that distance. And you struck its heart,’ I said.

  The scene repeated itself in my mind. I saw again the easy way he held the bow, the practised drawback of the string.

  ‘You’ve been trained by skilled archers.’ My words sounded like an accusation. They were in a way. Back in Haywode, he’d let me boast of my skill. Oh, and hadn’t I gone on about how good I was. The words came gushing out of me now, mortified and foolish. ‘You let me boast about how good I was, and all the time you … you knew you could do better and you didn’t say a thing!’

  He stayed silent yet couldn’t keep the hint of a smirk from creasing his face.

  ‘I hate you,’ I snapped, and, on impulse, lunged towards him, pushing at his shoulder.

  He let the force of my hand twist his body but didn’t take a step backwards. The smirk became a smile. He knew I wasn’t serious, and he knew my lunge had been as playful as my claim to hate him.

  ‘Three in five is very good. Your father must be a fine teacher,’ he said, teasing me mercilessly. Then he added, ‘I’m sorry, Silvermay. The less you learned about me, the safer you’d stay.’

  An apology at last, sincere and freely offered. I basked in its warmth and wished I could push at his shoulder again. But I knew it would be too much. Once was understandable, considering how he’d tricked me, but a second time would be something else.

  ‘Actually, my best is three out of five,’ I said. ‘Usually, it’s two.’

  He laughed out loud, a new first for him, and, as a final comic insult, handed me the rabbit to carry back through the birch trees.

  ‘Save the arrow,’ he said more seriously. ‘You may need it.’

  We returned to Nerigold, helped her onto the horse and, with the rabbit tied to the saddle behind her, set off again with me leading the way. As the light began to fade, so did my memory of the tracks I’d travelled with my father.

  ‘Yes, I can see how the ground’s beginning to rise,’ said Tamlyn when I told him. ‘I guess we’ll have to blaze our own path from here.’

  Our own path. Did he include me in those words? I hadn’t thought of turning back for a moment, and as we climbed steadily tomorrow and into the mountains of Nan Tocha after that, Nerigold and little Smiler would need me more than ever. I wasn’t a guide now. I didn’t feel like a nurse, either. I was a fugitive, as they were, and happy to be one if it meant spending my days like these last two.

  We roasted the rabbit over a fire and set about devouring every shred of its flesh. Between mouthfuls, I told Nerigold of the hunt and had her laughing at Tamlyn’s tricks.

  ‘Be careful of him, Silvermay,’ she warned in a mocking tone, while Tamlyn sat there enjoying our attention. ‘That pretty face of his makes people trust him before they really know him.’

  ‘It’s true, I’m afraid,’ he said, with a devilish wink.

  He could say what he liked, and so could Nerigold, but I’d been fooled once and I wouldn’t be again. I didn’t believe a word either of them said and let the look on my face show it.

  Nerigold went to check on
her son, asleep on the other side of the fire. My hands were greasy from the rabbit so I dug a rag out from the pocket of my dress to wipe them clean. When I was done, Tamlyn took the rag from me.

  ‘You have a smear on your chin, as well,’ he said and, before I quite knew what was happening, his right hand was holding my jaw still and his left was dabbing with the rag at the corner of my mouth and beneath my bottom lip.

  I could have turned away. I could have taken the cloth from his hand and finished the job myself. But I didn’t.

  ‘That’s better. All gone now,’ he said, and his face lit with a brief grin that melted the heart clean out of my chest.

  It was over in moments, and his eyes had barely met mine since it was my mouth and chin that needed his attention. But the imprint of his fingers on my jaw lingered long after he had joined Nerigold and the baby.

  I watched them together. For weeks I’d observed them secretly like this, searching for accidental touches, for the fleeting opportunities when one could remind the other of the affection they couldn’t display openly. And in all those days, I hadn’t seen any.

  Now, the touches of affection I’d looked for had finally appeared, but not between Tamlyn and Nerigold. They’d passed between Tamlyn and me.

  8

  Along the Forest Paths

  Near Haywode

  There had been five riders in the party when they’d left the coast, but only three were halted now in the middle of the road, blocking the way. It would be a brave traveller who asked them to move aside.

  One of the three was having trouble with a skittish horse and his cursing alone would have been a warning of sorts. The man to his left scowled from above a shaggy beard, although a stranger’s eye was more likely to focus on his shaven head. The third held the reins in his right hand only for the simple reason there were no fingers on his left to grip with.

  A fourth rider could be seen skirting the woodland further along the road. He sat upright in his saddle, a sullen look spoiling a handsome face. His aloof manner suggested he was not part of the group, but he was dusted with the same film of pale brown grit from days on the road.