by Andre Norton
She said nothing, unwinding the old bandage from my aching head to put on the fresh. Then without warning she caught my chin with a firm hand and held me, searching into my eyes.
“Do you see double?” she demanded.
“Not now.”
“Well enough then. But I warn you—go upon the trail before you are fit and you will end a dead man, accomplishing nothing.”
“Lady, it is because I accomplished nothing when I should have, that I am here. If I can follow Thorg, then I am returning to Lord Garn a small portion of what my folly cheated him of these past days.”
“Folly!” she made an impatient sound. “Carry your burden of unneedful guilt then. Each man walks the road which is appointed to him—that may take many twists and turns. He thinks that he rules his life, he does not know that some threads were already tightly woven before he came to work upon the loom.”
I got again to my feet. “Lady, you have my full thanks for all you have done for me. There is a call-debt now between us—if a kinless one can be allowed to acknowledge such. But I have an older one to Lord Garn. I may no longer be of his house, but I can still move in this matter.”
“Go your own way, as all men do. I warn you to take care—but again you will be moved only by your own desires.” She turned her back on me as I reached for my mail shirt.
As I made a fumbling job of putting that on (for I vowed I would not ask for her help and it would seem that she had done with me now even as Garn had done with me earlier) I saw that she had taken up from that lower shelf a bowl—not of wood or of clay—but of silver, burnished and bright. She held that in both hands, looking down into the cup of it for a long moment before she raised her head to glance once more at me. It was as if she strove to make some decision which was of importance. Whatever that might be she came to it quickly, setting the bowl back in its place.
Instead she now picked up a wallet such as a traveler might carry slung over one shoulder. Into this she began to fit things. There was the remainder of the salve which she had put on my bandage, then she made quick choices among some of her other small boxes, slipping each within, as I tightened my sword belt about me, loosening the blade, pulling it out a little that it might move the quicker.
In addition to the boxes she had stored within the wallet she now packed also journey cakes, though she added no dried sticks of meat, and I remembered that those of her calling did generally not eat flesh. There was a twist of hide also which held dried fruits. Last of all she picked up a water bottle which I recognized as the one I had carried on my last trip down the stream gorge.
“Fill this at the spring. It is good water—moon-blessed.” Both the wallet and the bottle she dropped on the pallet by my side. I felt oddly alone. It was as if here, too, the curse Lord Garn had set on me held. For all her care of me, it would seem that she wanted me gone. Nor could I blame her.
Still, though I was on my feet now, and had beaten back that weakness which strove to put me down again, I could not go without more acknowledgment of the debt between us. There was only one way that those of my calling could take the full balance of payment upon them. Now I slid my sword all the way from its sheath and, grasping the blade, held it out to her hilt first. Though I fully expected her to spurn what I offered, since I was of the undead who had no right even to speak to such as she.
Zabina looked at the blade and then once more at me with that searching, measuring gaze. But, even as I had thought, she did not touch the hilt, refusing me even so little a heartening of spirit.
“We do not deal with steel and sword edge,” she said. “Nor do I take homage. But what lies behind your offer, Elron—yes, that I shall accept. Perhaps in time there may come the day when I shall claim your services.”
I sent the blade back into my scabbard, feeling an even greater burden for an instant or two. Then that faded and I straightened my back, pushed aside whatever filled my mind. The Wise Woman was no lord, no clan leader, but she had meant what she said, and to her at least I was not totally outlawed and of the undead. I picked up the wallet and gave her thanks, though my deeper thanks were for what she had just done.
“There are things for wounds within,” she pointed to the pouch. “Their uses are marked on the lids of the boxes. Do not leave off the salve and the cover for your head wound until the full ache is gone. And go with blessing—” Zabina shaped a sign which was not of that sacred Flame which the Bards guarded. However it was plain that to her this symbol was a potent one. Again I bowed my head in thanks.
I would have liked to have had speech with Gathea also—thank her for her part in taking care of me. Only she was not there and I knew that I had now been dismissed. There was no reason for me to linger.
It was past midday by the look of the sun when I came out of the Wise Woman's rough-walled hut. I could see to the east the fields and the wood-walled keep of Tugness. The Wise Woman's dwelling had been built back against the rise of the ridge and I thought that not far above must lie the Moon Shrine which Iynne had so foolishly visited.
Certainly there was the best place to begin a tracing of any trail. Garn's men must already have combed all the top of the ridge. Did they suspect also the hint the Wise Woman had given me—that no supernatural thing or previous dweller had taken my cousin, but rather she had been made captive by our ancient enemy?
If so there must now be sentries above ready to loose a bolt at any coming from this dale. They would like nothing better than to make me part of their bag.
I filled my water bottle at a stream which leaped vigorously down from the height to form a brook near the hut. Then, with the weight of that on my hip, I made my way along the foot of the ridge rise. There was a trail of sorts, made perhaps by Gathea in her comings and goings. That the shrine was of importance to her I well knew. I stood at the beginning of that and looked back, out over what I could see of the dale.
There was a flock of sheep at graze to the west. Men worked in the fields. I saw no riders and the aspect of the land was one of peace. Could I accept that as meaning Lord Tugness had no suspicion of the activities of his son? Or was this quiet all a sham, meant to deceive any who might be spying? It could be either answer and I knew so little of Lord Tugness. I must go on as one against whom would be turned every bolt and sword point were he to be seen.
Though it would perhaps have been better to begin my search when twilight veiled me from any in the dale, still there was also the need for light to view any traces Thorg had left. For it was now firm in my mind that indeed Lord Garn's old enemies had moved, since that explanation of Iynne's disappearance was far more logical.
Accordingly I took that upward path, sure that there was no better place to begin my search than the shrine itself. Had Iynne's preoccupation with that been wholly because of its strangeness? Or had she in fact been meeting Thorg secretly?
I found that suggestion presented me with a far different picture of my cousin than the one I had always had. Meek, compliant, wholly absorbed in the matters of the household—a colorless, timid girl who abided by the customs of our people—was she really just that? Or had such “virtues” been only a cloak which she had thrown off readily when she found a new freedom in the Dales? Looking back now there was little of Iynne that I discovered I knew. That astonished me as much as if a tree suddenly opened a bark mouth and spoke. She had been part of the background of my life since we were both small children, but after that, by kin customs, her life had been lived in another pattern altogether. What I recalled seemed to make her a colorless stranger.
What had it meant to her that she was promised to an unknown man without any reference to her own choice? That was custom, but until this day I had not thought much of that. For Iynne, such a decision might be another matter—a thing to fear. Had she taken some dislike to her betrothed which Thorg could play upon to get her to flout all the rules of our people? Iynne was coming alive in my mind, shaking off the shell my past way of thought had cast so tightly about her.
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I won up to the top of the ridge, though I found I must take that climb slowly. Not only did I study all which lay about me as I looked for any sign that this path had been recently in use, but also my lingering weakness forced me to rest several times during that climb.
The only traces of any before me which I saw was a single track which could only have been left by that great cat which had accompanied Gathea, a paw-mark deep printed in a pocket of earth. I slipped from one bit of cover to the next, using my periods of rest to listen, though I could hear nothing, only now and then a bird call. If there were any waiting in hiding above they were keeping the silence of an ambush.
To approach the Moon Shrine from this side was easier for my purpose for there were a number of large rocks to afford cover. Whether they had been purposefully set for shelter I did not know—but their stone had not been worked.
Finally I reached the last one, from which I could plainly see the trees sheltering the sign, now so full leafed that they near hid pillars and pavement. Branches had been ruthlessly broken from one of the nearest of those trees as if to force a way. Yet only a few had been torn aside so wantonly. I believed that whoever had wanted to come at the shrine itself had lost that desire before they had summoned courage enough to achieve it fully.
For long moments I listened and waited, even raising my head high to sniff the breeze which blew from the direction of Lord Garn's holdings—north to south. There was no taint which I could detect in that. If any lay in hiding here they were very well concealed.
Then I tensed, for from between the tree which had lost its lower branches and that next to it, moved a light figure. The great cat pushed into the open to stand sentry. Its head swung about deliberately, then paused as it looked in my direction. Whether it could indeed see me by virtue of that keener sight which is given to those wearing fur, or whether it scented me, I could not tell. Only I was very sure it knew that I was there.
However, that it was here was also reassurance for me that there had been no guard placed on this spot by Garn; I was certain that the beast would never have stood so boldly in the open if it had had to face more than one man. Now I arose to my full height, moving away from the rock behind which I had taken cover. If the cat was here—could I then expect that Gathea would also appear? Or if the animal was alone, would it allow me to approach and search for the traces of Thorg and his captive, or his enticed companion?
I was right in my first guess. Zabina's handmaiden slipped, with the same silent ease of the cat, from out of the trees’ shadow. As she had on the trail, Gathea wore the leather and heavy jacket of a far traveler, and her hair must have been bound tightly about her head, for she had drawn over it a tightly knit cap of the same brown-gray as her clothing. Now she stood away from the trees, also facing in my direction. Nor did she seem surprised to see me, rather it was as if she had been awaiting my arrival, impatient that I had taken so long in coming.
As I did, she carried a wallet bulging full, even a larger one than mine, and a water bottle. Only she bore no weapons, at her belt was just the sheathed knife one would use for eating or small tasks of a camp.
She watched me approach soberly, giving no greeting, as if between us there was no need for that. The cat wrinkled an upper lip, but if he meant a warning it was a soundless one.
“So you came—”
I found her words a little puzzling. Had she thought that I would not? I might never redeem myself in the eyes of my kin, but for my own belief in myself there was only the one thing I could do, and that take any trail which would lead me to Iynne.
“If there is a trail, it should begin here,” I made short answer. “This is where I found her—where he must have met her—or somewhere nearby. There would have been no other way for them to—”
“He—they—?” she repeated, interrupting me sharply. There was puzzlement on her face.
“Thorg,” it was my turn to be impatient. “He would play old Garnes—gain a wife and put dishonor on a House
enemy.”
“What has Thorg to do with this?” she wavered without turning her head, indicating the tree-hidden shrine.
“He must have seen Iynne here, led her into folly, or else took her bodily. She was easily frightened.” I was not altogether sure of that, but for the honor of Garn's House I hoped it was the truth—that my cousin had been taken against her will.
Gathea moved forward a step or two. As the Wise Woman had regarded me earlier that day with that searching stare to read my thoughts, so did her assistant now also study me.
“Why do you think this of Thorg?” she asked. “Your own mistress said it so—”
“Did she? Are you sure?” her voice came even sharper, quick and emphatic enough to make me recall what words I had had with Zabina. Had she actually said Thorg had done this thing? I put remembered word to word. No, she had not said it—she had only asked a question or two, made a statement of things past, and the rest had been my own interpretation.
Gathea must have read that conclusion in my expression as quickly as I reached it. She nodded.
“Zabina did not say that,” the girl stated flatly. “You have put words into her mouth.”
“What she said led me to think sol”
“She is not responsible for the thoughts of one who wishes to find an easy enemy.”
“Which I was not looking for—until she spoke so!” I countered hotly. “When I said that I would trail him she did not deny that I had reason for my belief.”
“Why should she? What difference would it make to her to have you embroiled with another of your kind? If trouble came it would spread only from your crooked thinking, not draw in that which is not yours, could never be—”
I took a long stride forward, angry at the growing belief that these two women were playing with me. They had tended my body well. But that was of their way of life and came not, as I knew well, from any liking or interest in me as I was myself. When I was near healed they wanted none of me. Zabina had but subtly sent me packing on a trail which lead nowhere and this girl was openly hostile. Yet, why had she not agreed readily with her mistress's suggestion and not disowned it so readily? She could well have cozened me on into the western wilderness on a false trail until I was long lost.
“Where is Lady Iynne?” I thought this was no longer a time to be mistaken about what might or might not be. There was only one form of action left for me—that was to repair my folly in leaving my cousin prey to whatever had taken her, whether it was some man of the dales or else something worse and more feared which lurked here, an exile from an earlier and to be feared time.
“I do not know.”
I believed her. Only—she might not know where Tynne was, but that she had some knowledge of what might have happened to my cousin, I was still convinced.
At that moment I was prepared to shake the truth out of her, so strong was my rising anger, the belief that I had been played with, pushed out of their way. However the cat snarled, bared fangs, so I remained where I was.
“She was called.” Gathea spoke slowly. “For I watched her, and she did not come here in idle curiosity as you believed. No, within her a woman's deepest instincts were rising to the full. She was—is—of an age when the Great Lady summons womankind to ripeness. Even such as your Iynne who has all her life dwelt by man's laws and customs, will answer to women's magic, if that be strong and full enough. So she was drawn to a place in which moon-touch lay potent still. However, because she was not armored with the strength we know, she lay too open to the full flow of that.”
“I do not know what you mean. She went to the shrine. Well, then what happened? She could not have vanished into the air, sunk into stone, been carried away save by a man—Thorg.”
To my surprise Gathea laughed. “Shut your mind doors and bar them as you and your kind always have. So Iynne is gone and you would hunt her. Well, enough—if you have the courage. There are mysteries in this land; seek them out and perhaps you will find
a thread which will lead you properly—perhaps you will not—you can only try.”
She shifted the wallet strap higher on her shoulder and turned away, the cat still between us, padding along beside her. She headed west with the confidence of one who knew exactly what she would do.
6.
* * *
* * *
I watched her go, certain that I would get no more out of her than she had already said. Still I knew she believed it was not Thorg who had gone wife-raiding. Convinced in part, I turned to the shrine. I came only to that thin opening between the trees which guarded it when I was shocked by the knowledge that I could not enter.
Once more I was met by a wall with force enough to shake my whole body. This place did again have invisibile barriers, a defense which I had no power to breach. Though I tried, yes, I put forth all my strength to fight that which stood between me and that square of pavement.
It was not in my past training to understand such a thing. The clans swore by the Flame, paid homage to the Everburning at the proper festival. We listened to the words of the Bards who had the record-keeping of our past, and who sang of men who won battles or went down to defeat. Yet never had any one of our blood, as far as I knew, met the unseen force against which perhaps even the riders of an entire clan could exhaust themselves or be easily defeated.
At that moment I was not awed, only angry—with my own lacks, with my ignorance, yes, and with Zabina and her Maiden. For I was well assured that they knew far more than they told—if they had told me anything except to mislead and mystify.
So I could not force my way in to view closer a place of empty stone? Well enough. Iynne was not here. She had not returned to Garn's holding, therefore it remained that she was somewhere. I swung around to stare in the direction Gathea and her beast had taken. It could be that lynne had, in some way, made common cause with this arrogant pacer-of-unknown-trails, for what purpose I could not say. I only remembered the well-filled wallet the girl had, and I thought of a supply of food being carried to someone in hiding. I could see no reason for such action on my cousin's part, but it was not given me to understand the mind of a maid, and it might well be that she had been dazzled by Zabina's teaching.
