Dragonsbane (Book 3)

by Shae Ford

  It sounded to Kael as if everybody knew nothing. Heated words formed upon his tongue as the helmsman babbled on, but he managed to hold them back. He was relieved when the noise of the village finally drowned his voice.

  The mossy houses swept by; the dirt moved quickly under his feet. He kept his head down and stayed on the widest path, the one he was certain would lead him into the woods. Kyleigh would be waiting for him there — in the shelter of the trees and away from the eyes of the village guard.

  The walls around Oakloft were twice a man’s height and wrought from thick planks of wood. They were every bit as mossy as the houses. From a distance, it looked as if the town had been surrounded by a giant bush.

  The wide gate was propped open. A few guards wandered back and forth across the creaking ramparts, spears propped against their shoulders. Kael planned to dart by them quickly. He would keep his head down and walk as if he had important business — exactly how Uncle Martin slipped past the kitchen maids.

  His plan was a good one. Unfortunately, he made it to the gates just as a caravan pushed in from the other side.

  Wagons and horses and hordes of men tromped through, blocking up the gates. The bulk of their party pushed Kael to the side. He knew he would have no choice but to wait his turn. He went to lean up against one of the bushy walls — and leapt back with a yelp.

  A ragged man was tucked behind the leaves, sitting cross-legged with his back against the wall. The man’s skin was so dark with filth that Kael would’ve been less surprised to spot him crawling out of a chimney.

  “Sorry. I didn’t see you there.”

  The man didn’t reply.

  His mane of scraggly hair ran directly into his scraggly beard. His head was bent as if he’d fallen asleep. Between the angle of his head and the severity of his hair, Kael couldn’t see his face.

  “Can you hear me? Are you all right?”

  When the man still didn’t respond, Kael looked closer. His clothing was made up entirely of rags: bits of trousers, shirtsleeves, and what looked suspiciously like stockings were all knotted together and fashioned around his boney frame like bandages.

  He was unnaturally still. Kael had gone to tap him on the shoulder when a knobby hand shot up and clamped around his wrist. “I thought you were dead!” Kael gasped, ripping his arm free. “You could’ve just said you were all right instead of grabbing me like … oh.”

  Oh was all Kael could think to say. For when the man raised his head, he saw that another set of rags had been bound tightly across his eyes.

  He was blind.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize —”

  “Are you going to the mountains?”

  Shock stole Kael’s breath. Filthy though he was, the man’s voice was commanding and clear. He carried his words as if each one had been made to fit into the next — as if he’d measured every lift and fall into a perfect sound.

  After a moment, his bandaged head tilted to the side. “Hmm … now there’s an answer I’ve not heard before.”

  “What answer?” Kael said carefully.

  “No answer.” The blind man cracked a smile. Surprisingly, he still had all of his teeth. “I’ve asked the same question to every man who’s passed through these gates. And for all the time I’ve sat here, I’ve heard nothing but nos and not todays and even a few nevers. I’ve not been met with silence before. So perhaps silence means … yes?”

  “No, I’m not going to the mountains,” Kael said firmly.

  The blind man slapped his hands to his ears — rattling a shower of dust from the wilds of his hair and onto his shoulders. “Lies! Words flung halfway out, a bird caught by the feet as he struggles for the open window. Flee, little bird. Flee!”

  “I’m sorry, but I’m not going to the mountains,” Kael said again. When he tried to walk away, the blind man wailed all the louder.

  “No, oh no. He’s trapped! More beats of his wings, desperate fluttering with the blue sky just beyond —”

  “I’m not lying.”

  “— but he can’t escape. Something holds him back.” Then without warning, the blind man spread his arms out wide and howled: “Fly! Fly, little bird! Wing into the sunlight and leave the gilded prison at your back! Use your beak, use your claws!”

  By this point, people were beginning to stare. The merchants at the tail end of the caravan walked with their heads turned back and their mouths agape. Two of the guards peered curiously over the ramparts.

  Blast it all. This was the last thing Kael needed.

  He tried to walk away quickly, but the blind man latched onto his ankle. “Flee! Flee, little b —”

  “Yes — all right? Yes, I’m going to the mountains. Now for mercy’s sake, will you please shut it?”

  “That depends …” his filthy head cocked to the side, “will you take me with you?”

  Kael didn’t want to have a blind man fumbling along behind him the whole way to the mountains. In fact, he couldn’t think of anything he wanted less — except, perhaps, to be caught by the guards and turned over to the Countess.

  Almost on cue, the blind man started to wail.

  “Stop it. Stop — fine!” Kael hissed. “You can come with me.”

  His smile returned immediately. “What wonderful news! Just let me gather my things …” His knobby hands patted the ground around him furiously, finally coming to rest atop a mossy hill. “I’ve been waiting a long while for someone to take me to the mountains,” he said as he dug his hands into the moss. “Ages and ages, it seems like.”

  Kael didn’t believe him — until he tugged hard on the hill of moss and a filthy rucksack burst out. “How long has that been sitting there?”

  “It sat down when I did, of course. What a silly question.” The blind man raised his hands. “Now help me up.”

  Kael pulled him to his feet. “Come on,” he grumbled.

  He’d taken several steps before he realized that the blind man wasn’t following. He stood back near the wall, holding his hands out before him as if he read a book.

  “Something very heavy rests upon your shoulders, traveler,” he said after a moment. “I heard it in your steps when you first approached. Ah, here’s a man who’s walked the earth, I thought to myself. Here is a man who understands the importance of the prints he leaves behind, because he’s already left so many. I’ve heard only a few such steps. Usually they belong to men with hands that are crusted hard with age. Your hands are surprisingly young.” Kael could hear the dry rasp as the blind man rubbed his fingers together. “And yet … they’re slick with blood.”

  Without another word, the blind man swooped the filthy rucksack across his shoulders and stumbled forward. He latched onto Kael’s pack with his knobby fingers and held on as they passed through the gates.

  Kael wasn’t sure how deep into the forest they walked before Kyleigh materialized from the trees. When she dropped her hood, he could read the surprise clearly on her face.

  “We’re probably going to die before we get there, anyways. So what does it matter?” Kael grumbled before she could speak.

  Kyleigh shrugged. “Fair enough. But may I at least ask why we’ve added a blind man to our party?”

  Kael sighed heavily, and swore he could almost feel the weight sink down upon his shoulders as he said: “I couldn’t leave him behind. He knows too much.”

  Chapter 4

  The Spider and the Bard

  As soon as Oakloft’s gates were out of sight, Kyleigh led them off the road and into the shelter of the woods. It wasn’t long before the Grandforest swallowed them up.

  Giant trees towered all around them. Many of their branches sat so heavily that they sagged to the ground. The thick shade cast by their hulking tops strangled most of the grass, leaving the ground to be taken over by dirt and moss.

  Dry whispers fluttered down occasionally — the far-off sound of a breeze that stirred the trees’ tops. But for the most part, the world beneath the branches was eerily quiet.

/>   Kael’s ears began to ring after a while, as if the pressure of the silence was every bit as painful as a sharp howl. His lungs burned and he realized that he’d been holding his breath. When he exhaled, the noise of his breathing was frustratingly loud.

  While he struggled not to make too much noise, Kyleigh traveled easily. She moved with the silence of the woods: her boots rose and fell, carrying her in a rolling walk across the shady ground. Her shoulders turned occasionally towards the trees. She would tilt her head to the side, slowing her pace a bit as she watched the branches.

  Kael thought she might be searching for something — or perhaps she was just unsettled by the quiet. In any case, she was beginning to make him nervous.

  “Are we in danger?” he finally hissed.

  “Hmm …? Oh, no. Not at all.”

  “Then why do you keep looking around?”

  She spun on her heels and walked backwards a few paces. He was relieved to see her smiling. “I was just listening to everybody. It’s been a while since my last walk through the forest.”

  “Listening to everybody?” Kael wondered if he’d missed something. He stopped to look — and the blind man collided with his back.

  “Have we arrived? Have we reached the mountains?”

  Kael had gotten so used to the tug of the blind man’s hands upon his pack that he’d actually forgotten he was there. “We haven’t even been traveling for a day! Of course we’re not at the mountains.”

  He stumbled back a step when the blind man’s grip tightened. “We’re still in the forest? Oh, then we must move on! I don’t like these trees — they’re treacherous.”

  Kyleigh clutched a hand to her lips — but didn’t quite cover the corners of her smile. “No, surely not! There’s nothing worse than a treacherous tree.”

  Kael didn’t think it was funny. He knew how hysterical the blind man could get, and he certainly didn’t want him to start yelling again. “You’re just imagining things. Trees can’t be treacherous.”

  “Oh, but they can!” the blind man insisted. “The trees see everything, but they say nothing. I wonder how many vipers hide amongst the leaves? How many cutthroats and thieves? They must’ve watched countless men be murdered, must’ve heard countless screams. Yes, they hear and they see, but they do nothing to stop it.” His knobby hand trembled as he swept it above them. “Think of the stories they might tell us … if only they would speak.”

  At that very moment, a gust of wind rattled through the branches. It stirred the leaves and carried their whispers downwards … well, Kael supposed it was the wind that had moved them. But though the trees swayed, the gust never quite reached the floor. He heard the wind, but couldn’t feel it.

  Little bumps rose unbidden across his arms as the leaves continued to whisper. Perhaps the helmsman had been right: perhaps there were spirits trapped in the trees.

  “Blazes,” Kyleigh murmured as the air went still. “You’re quite the storyteller, aren’t you?”

  “I was a bard, once. Many years ago,” the blind man said. He urged Kael forward. “Move, young man! We should put these woods to our heels.”

  Their pace quickened after that. Kyleigh talked to the blind man for the rest of the day. She tread carefully through their conversation and her questions came in tiny spoonfuls, as if she could somehow sense lunacy behind his bandaged face.

  “You said you were a bard?”

  “A singer of songs and a teller of tales, yes.” He inhaled deeply through his nose — and exhaled across the back of Kael’s neck. “Spring’s nearly ended, now. It’ll soon be summer. Then autumn. Find a mate, raise a brood, head south for the winter. It’s remarkable how our lives change with the seasons, isn’t it? Every winter we survive wilts us a little more. A man’s first spring is considerably greener than his last.”

  His words made Kael’s skin crawl for a moment before he forced himself to be reasonable. It was the blind man’s unusual voice that made his words sound important. If Kael stripped it back, he could hear the insanity.

  “Why did you stop being a bard?” Kyleigh said.

  It was a wasted question. Bards were known to be wanderers, and the blind man couldn’t travel if he couldn’t see. He’d stopped when the lights went out — that was the obvious answer. But it wasn’t the answer he gave:

  “In my dreams, I see a land of welcome — a refuge I can’t quite reach. I’ve felt the jagged shadows stretch across my head. Their promise shelters me against the gales that would carry me away. I see them clearly when I sleep: clouds impaled upon its spiny back, unbranded skin, high peaks dressed in frosted cloaks … but their embrace is warm to some.” The blind man’s shaggy beard twitched upwards as he smiled. “The mountains are calling me … and I long to answer.”

  This time, Kael didn’t let himself be tricked by the blind man’s voice. He listened carefully, peeling the tone from his words until he could hear the answer clearly: “So you’ve given up being a bard so you can travel to the mountains.”

  The blind man’s smile fell slack. “If you prefer to simply swallow it whole, then yes. But if you let it soak, let it simmer —”

  “Why would you have to give up barding to travel to the mountains?” Kael cut in. “It seems to me that telling stories along the way would get you there faster. You could earn enough coin to get there on your own instead of having to beg for someone else to take y —”

  The blind man whistled over the top of him. He warbled at the treetops so loudly that the birds began to sing back. They whistled, chirped, and squawked, each one replying in its own tongue.

  Their song was so loud that Kael had to plug his ears against it. “Stop trying to avoid the question! Just answer me plainly —”

  “Oh, hush,” Kyleigh said. Her arm wrapped about his shoulder and her hand clamped over his mouth. She pulled a finger from his ear and held him by the wrist, forcing him to listen.

  To Kael, the birds’ cries were an unintelligible mash — a song goaded into racket by the blind man’s warbling. But Kyleigh seemed to be enjoying it.

  She was standing so closely beside him that he could feel her breathing against his shoulder. Her chest caught mid-rise — as if she was reluctant to make any sound, even to breathe.

  He could see her open-mouthed grin from the corner of his eye. There was a brightness in the green of her gaze as she watched the trees, and he didn’t want to see it snuffed out. So he stood quietly.

  At last, the blind man’s song ended. The birds chirped a few moments more. The space between their cries lengthened, as if they were calling out and waiting for an answer. But as the moments passed and they heard no reply, they began to quiet. The birds hushed their song and the forest grew still once more.

  “What’s your name?” Kyleigh said when the blind man’s whistling ended.

  “Hmm, now there’s a question I’ve not heard in a long while …” He was silent for a moment. Then he snapped his fingers — so loudly that Kael jumped. “The beggar at the gates. That’s what the people of Oakloft used to call me.”

  Kyleigh frowned. “That can’t be your real name.”

  “My real name? Ah, well … oh, that’s back. That’s a quite ways back …” He muttered to himself for such a long moment that Kael thought he might’ve tumbled off the edge of the pit. “Baird!” he finally exclaimed.

  “Baird the Beggar-Bard,” Kyleigh said with a smile. “That’s got a peculiar ring to it. I’m surprised you forgot it.”

  “As am I,” Baird murmured. Then he tugged on Kael’s pack. “And what’s your name, young man?”

  He said the first name he could think of: “Jonathan.”

  “Hmm … is that truly your name?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then why do you thrust it out of your mouth like a friend shoved in an arrow’s path?”

  “I don’t thrust it anywhere. That’s my name,” Kael said shortly.

  The tangled edges of his beard scratched across his ragged tunic as Baird shook his h
ead. “No, that can’t possibly be it. A man’s name ought to sound at home upon his lips.”

  “He’s got a point, Kael,” Kyleigh said.

  He shoved her.

  “Kael,” Baird murmured, testing it. “Yes … that sounds about right. And what about you, young lady? What’s your name?”

  “Kyleigh.”

  Baird’s hands snapped open and Kael stumbled forward with the sudden change in weight. “No, it couldn’t possibly … ” He walked towards Kyleigh, hands outstretched. But he stumbled just before he reached her.

  She caught him by the elbows and pulled his thin body up with ease. “Careful. You don’t want to —”

  “Kyleigh Swordmaiden.”

  Her shoulders stiffened when Baird grasped her face. The calloused edges of his thumbs ran across her brows, down the bridge of her nose and along the line of her chin. When his fingers brushed her lips, Kael decided that he’d had enough.

  “Stop touching her. What do you think you’re —?”

  “He’s looking at me,” Kyleigh said from around his fingers.

  When his hands had traced over every inch of her face, he leaned back. “Hmm … no lines, no scars, no touch of age. You’re as beautiful as you were the first time I saw you. You were in the company of great warriors, then. I could only watch from afar.” His hands fell down her neck and came to rest upon her shoulders. He squeezed them tightly. “Kyleigh Swordmaiden — hero of the realm and dishonored knight. Here’s a woman who understands the changing of the seasons better than anybody.”

  Kael was more than a little surprised. He knew that Kyleigh had been a knight — but she made no mention at all of being a hero. “What does he mean, a hero of the realm? What did you do?”

  “She slew the Falsewright! She cleft his head from his shoulders with her mighty sword! The King’s tried to bury it. His scribes have tried to strike it away, to twist the tale.” He held up a finger. “But I remember. I know the truth.”