Caddoran

by Roger Taylor

  Nordath looked at the dog then clenched his fist. His face contorted. ‘Damn this place,’ he hissed. ‘And damn Vashnar, and Aghrid. Damn all of them, with their swords and their staffs and their brutal ways. What are we doing here? Why couldn’t we just be left alone? We weren’t causing anyone any trouble.’

  No reply was expected and none was offered as Nordath fell silent and dropped his head in his hands. Endryk reached out as if to comfort him then thought better of it. He looked up unhappily at the long uneven dip between the two peaks which headed the valley and towards which they were heading.

  ‘This next part’s going to be difficult. When we’ve rested a little longer, Adren and I will go to the top and see if we can find out which way he’s gone. We might be able to find an easier route for the rest of you once we’re up there.’

  ‘No,’ Nordath said, looking up at him. ‘We’ll stay together.’ He heaved himself to his feet. ‘I’m sorry about that little outburst. I wouldn’t want any of you to think that I was anything other than deeply grateful for everything you’ve done. It’s just that…’

  ‘No apology’s necessary,’ Hyrald said, before he could finish. ‘You only said what the rest of us were thinking, and thoughts like that are best exposed to the light where they can’t fester.’ He took Nordath’s arm. ‘As for Thyrn, I can’t think what he’s playing at, or why, and I won’t tell you not to worry about him, but I will tell you not to give up. Wewill find him between us.’

  As Endryk had said, clambering up the final part of the slope proved to be no easy task. The horses in particular found it very difficult and needed a great deal of careful handling. Nevertheless, they eventually reached the dip without serious incident. Endryk told the others to wait while he and Nals moved some way ahead, searching for further sign of Thyrn’s passing.

  In front of them now lay two valleys. The first, broad and open, was similar to the one they had just travelled through. It continued to the west. The other, despite the sunlight, was darker and bleaker in appearance and ran south-west.

  Nordath gazed along it intently. ‘He’s gone that way,’ he said, apparently to himself. A gust of cold wind swept over the dip as he spoke. He wrapped his arms about himself and shivered. Adren ushered him into the sunlit lea of a rocky outcrop. None of the Wardens questioned him about his comment though they exchanged significant glances when Endryk returned a few minutes later with the same information. They set off without any debate, scrambling cautiously over the broad sheet of shattered rocks that sloped down from the dip.

  The valley which Thyrn had chosen was substantially narrower than the one they had been travelling along, and bounded by higher, more jagged peaks. Its floor was uneven and littered with boulders of all sizes, and such grass as grew there had a stunted and brittle look to it. A feeling of oppression soon began to pervade the group. Rhavvan voiced it first in his characteristically direct manner.

  ‘This place gives me the creeps. What did he want to come down here for?’

  ‘Well, at least he’s still heading in the right direction,’ Endryk offered. ‘He could’ve decided he wanted to go north again.’

  ‘That’s no consolation,’ Rhavvan said, glancing sourly up at the looming peaks.

  Endryk told them to mount.

  ‘We’ll have to risk a gentle trot while we can. He’s moving quickly. Without anything to carry he’s probably been gaining on us steadily. I’d like at least to catch sight of him before nightfall.’ His expression became worried. ‘Whatever’s driving him, it’s not impossible he might carry on in the dark and we certainly can’t do that.’

  They rode on in silence for a long time, their pace being set predominantly by Nals who seemed to be warming to his task now. On occasions he ran a long way ahead of them, almost out of sight, but he always stopped to wait for them, tongue lolling and with a generally impatient demeanour. The bleak vista that the valley had offered at the outset did not change as they moved along it. Indeed it grew worse as the floor grew narrower and the scree-fringed sides became steeper, ramping darkly up to increasingly jagged ridges and peaks. The sun added little and a flaccid stream meandering reluctantly along with the riders brought none of the bustling liveliness that a mountain stream should have.

  ‘More like the mountains in your homeland, is it – all this?’ Hyrald asked Endryk in an effort to lighten the group’s silent and increasingly sullen mood, but his forced geniality rang emptily.

  ‘There are valleys and valleys, Hyrald,’ Endryk replied, making the same effort himself. ‘This one has little charm, for sure. Certainly not one that would be sought out for a pleasant day’s walking. I suppose we should think ourselves lucky it’s not overcast and raining.’ He smiled, then chuckled to himself. ‘Mountains and valleys are like adults – they reflect the way they were treated when they were young.’

  Hyrald looked up warily as if in the presence of reproving parents. ‘Young mountains, eh? Can’t say the life-cycle of mountains is anything I’ve ever thought about, to be honest.’

  Endryk made an expansive, encompassing gesture. ‘You should. Everything here’s been carved out by ice and snow, wind and rain, summer heat and winter cold, pebble by pebble, crevice by crevice, over a span of years we can’t begin to comprehend. The mountains were here and changing long before we even existed, and they’ll be here and changing long after we’ve gone. Our entire lives are less to them than the blink of an eye is to us. It’s good for ones sense of perspective.’

  ‘Don’t try to cheer us up any more than you have to, will you?’ Rhavvan chimed in. ‘I’m feeling small and inadequate enough as it is.’

  ‘No, it’s interesting,’ Adren chimed in. ‘I’d never thought about anything like that, not even when I was a kid. And I used to think some odd things. I used to plague my father with questions like, why can’t animals talk, why can’t I fly, why isn’t rain blue like the sky where it comes from?’ She laughed to herself as old memories washed over her.

  Rhavvan muttered something derogatory under his breath to which Adren, still laughing, replied with a gesture quite at odds with her innocent childhood recollections.

  ‘How do you know all this, anyway?’ Rhavvan demanded of Endryk. ‘Who can say how old a mountains is?’

  ‘My people are just curious about things. They take a pride in discovery, in reasoning, in probing with the mind. Testing, rejecting, searching – and teaching.’

  ‘Why?’

  Endryk turned in his saddle to look straight at him. ‘That sounds like one of Adren’s unanswerable childish questions,’ he replied, smiling.

  It was Nordath who replied. ‘They do it for the same reason you’re asking the question, Rhavvan – curiosity. It’s deep in our nature – discovering things, solving problems. And it’s fun, isn’t it, learning? Knowledge is always preferable to ignorance.’

  Rhavvan drew in a noisy breath and looked at his colleagues. ‘I’m not so sure about that, some of the things we’ve seen,’ he said.

  ‘I didn’t say it was comforting or cosy,’ Nordath went on. ‘Merely preferable.’

  ‘Nothing’s to be feared, it’s only to be understood,’ Endryk said.

  ‘Precisely,’ Nordath agreed.

  ‘Not my own words, I’m afraid,’ Endryk admitted.

  ‘Don’t be afraid,’ Nordath retorted and they both laughed.

  Rhavvan’s response was more caustic. ‘I’ll remember that little gem the next time some drunken oaf’s swinging a sword at me.’ He mimicked Endryk’s voice. ‘I understand what’s happening so I don’t need to be afraid. Very useful, that.’

  Endryk was still laughing. He put his hand to his head in mock despair. ‘I’d a feeling I was going to get a remark like that even as I spoke.’

  The brief exchange eased the mood of the group a little and they trotted on in comparatively good spirits for some time, following Nals’ still enthusiastic lead.

  Then he stopped and began walking round in erratic circles. Endryk dismou
nted.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ Nordath asked anxiously.

  ‘I don’t know,’ Endryk replied. ‘It looks as if he’s lost the scent. Wait here.’

  Cautiously he walked up to the circling dog and began looking intently at the area it was traversing. Then he motioned the others forward.

  ‘It looks as if Thyrn stopped here for some reason.’ He looked puzzled. ‘But he didn’t rest. In fact, he doesn’t seem to have rested since he left the camp.’ A flicker of concern passed over his face. ‘It hadn’t occurred to me before, but he must be exhausted by now. We’ll have to find him soon.’ He pointed. ‘Look, there’s part of a footprint in that soft ground there. And another over there, and here.’ He glanced up at the surrounding crags. Nearby was the ragged scar of a small rock fall. Parts of it glistened with the persistent dribbles of water that had probably caused it.

  Endryk moved towards it. The others followed. It needed no profound tracking skills to see more of Thyrn’s footprints in the sodden ground. Endryk grimaced and swore softly.

  ‘What the devil’s he up to,’ he muttered. ‘We can’t possibly get the horses up there.’ He frowned and stood looking thoughtfully at Thyrn’s tracks for a while.

  ‘We’re going to have to divide the party,’ he said eventually. ‘Adren, you and I’ll go up to the top of this and see if we can find his tracks up there. The rest of you will have to stay here and wait. A rest won’t do you any harm – and the horses need one, anyway. Feed and water them.’ He delved into his saddlebag and withdrew a small lantern. ‘We’ll come back before nightfall, but set up camp and light a fire once the light starts to go – it’ll be useful as a guide for us.’

  There was some resistance to this decision, not least from Adren.

  ‘I can’t climb up there,’ she protested volubly, to general agreement. ‘Ye gods, look at it.’

  Endryk scrutinized the rock fall again, his hand shading narrowed eyes against the bright sky. ‘It’s not a climb, it’s a scramble, that’s all,’ he said. ‘If it involved climbing I’d go on my own. It looks worse than it is. You’re still not used to the scale of the mountains, that’s all. Don’t worry. Thyrn’s done it.’

  This did not reassure her. She cast a surreptitious glance at Nordath. ‘Thyrn’s… preoccupied,’ she said with heavy discretion.

  Endryk nodded. ‘Yes, and when we find him he’ll probably respond better to you than anyone else except perhaps Nordath, and he won’t be able to get up there without plenty of resting and help, all of which will take time.’

  Adren’s mouth curled in defeat and she motioned him ahead of her up the slope. Nals ran in front of them both.

  ‘You go first,’ he said to her as they began scrambling up the fall. ‘Same rules as everywhere else. Don’t rush, and think about what you’re doing. It’ll be very slippery in parts. Tell me if anything’s bothering you.’

  ‘What about the dog? Is he coming too?’

  ‘If he wants. Don’t worry about him. I’ll help him if he needs it.’

  They were over halfway up the climb before Endryk spoke again. He looked up at Adren, her tongue protruding slightly as she planted a foot solidly and grasped the edge of a rock. He smiled. ‘You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?’

  She peered down at him underneath her arm. ‘Certainly not,’ she said firmly. Down below, the brief exchange reached the watchers quite clearly.

  ‘I think we can stop holding our breath now,’ Hyrald said, clearing his throat self-consciously.

  ‘I could’ve climbed that,’ Rhavvan announced, lips pursed in certainty.

  ‘You might have to yet,’ Hyrald retorted. ‘You can carry one of the horses.’ He slapped his comrade’s arm. ‘Speaking of which, let’s get them tended and ourselves ready for a long wait. That, at least, we’re good at.’

  ‘Are you all right?’ Endryk asked as he reached the ridge.

  Adren was flushed and her eyes were shining. ‘Yes,’ she said, then she turned round, her arms open wide, all pretence at indifference gone. ‘Look at this, isn’t it splendid?’

  ‘This’ was the view. Sunlit peaks and rolling hills ranged in every direction under a cloudless sky. It would have been difficult to imagine a greater contrast with the lowering valley out of which they had just struggled.

  ‘Beautiful, beautiful,’ she whispered.

  She waved enthusiastically to the watching group below and they waved back.

  Endryk smiled then closed his eyes and took a slow deep breath, opening his arms slowly in front of him, palms upwards. As he breathed out he brought them together again, palms down. It was a graceful, relaxed movement quite different to Adren’s exhilarated embrace of the mountains.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Adren asked.

  ‘Just breathing,’ Endryk replied, smiling.

  ‘You and your breathing,’ she retorted, though the scornful tone she tried to affect turned into just a friendly jibe. ‘Let’s find our man. I noticed plenty of scuff marks on the way up, so he’s breathing as well.’

  ‘Yes,’ Endryk agreed, his face darkening. ‘Too many scuff marks. He’s going too fast and he’s getting tired. I can’t see that he’ll get much further without running into some kind of problem. We’ll just have to hope it’s not a serious one.’

  Nals ran between them, bumping into Endryk’s legs. Far from needing any help, the dog had scuttled and scratched his way up the rock fall with alarming alacrity and seemed to be even more excited at reaching the ridge than Adren. Endryk, however, ignored him and began searching for some sign of the way Thyrn had gone. It did not take long. He had followed the ridge, in the direction he had been taking along the valley. Endryk’s brow furrowed as he looked along the route. The ridge rose steadily, curving round in a broad sweep towards a large peak which dominated the area.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ Adren asked.

  ‘Nothing much,’ Endryk replied. ‘It could have been worse, he could’ve gone down the other side and that would have really given us problems. But I’m trying to work out how long it’ll take us to get up there and back.’ He looked up at the sun. ‘The light’s going to hold well. We should be able to make that peak and be back before nightfall, but we’ll have to mark the route as we go, especially this point, just in case we get held up. We’ll also have to keep a careful eye out for where he’s been. It might look narrow from here but there’s plenty of places he could’ve gone. He could be just skirting round that peak for some reason.’

  ‘Nals will help, won’t he?’

  ‘Possibly. When he’s quietened down a bit. He’s too excited to be any use at the moment.’

  Adren stroked the dog and made sympathetic noises to it before giving another wave to the watchers below. Then they set off along the ridge.

  They made steady progress; the going was not difficult and the warmth of the sun tempered the cold breeze that was blowing over the ridge. Gradually, Nals became more his old taciturn self again, loping ahead of them, head low over the rocky ground and confirming the occasional physical signs of Thyrn’s passing that they found.

  They had risen perhaps a third of the way up to the peak, and the ridge had broadened out to become part of the wide, hunched shoulders of the mountain, when Nals stopped. His ears went up sharply as if he had heard something and, after an introductory growl, he barked. Adren could not recall having heard him bark before and the sound, harsh in the mountain silence, startled her.

  Endryk crouched down by him and peered intently in the direction where he was staring. The dog’s ears were still erect as if he were listening to something.

  Adren pointed. ‘There,’ she said softly as if fearful of disturbing someone. ‘On the skyline.’

  It took Endryk a moment to make out the distant figure sitting on a ledge. It was motionless and its head was slumped forward.

  Chapter 20

  Adren put a gently restraining hand on Nals’ neck and the dog sat down quietly, though he was still obviously disturbed about
something.

  Eyes narrowed, Adren leaned forward as if being that little nearer would enable her to see more. ‘I can’t make out any details clearly against the sky.’ She was puzzled. ‘Thyrn doesn’t normally sit like that. He’s very straight.’

  ‘It’s not likely to be anyone else, is it?’ Endryk said. ‘He’s probably sat down for a rest and fallen asleep.’

  Adren frowned. ‘It’s difficult to tell from here, but it looks as if where he’s sitting might be a dangerous place to be sleeping.’ She became instructive. ‘We must approach him quietly and calmly, almost as if we were out for a casual walk. We don’t want him waking with a start. And if he happens to be awake, given that something’s the matter with him anyway, we don’t want to startle him.’ She paused for a moment then said, ‘Stay by me, dog,’ to Nals. Endryk could not forbear a look of surprise as the dog fell in behind her dutifully. He did the same.

  Following Adren’s advice, the three of them began walking towards the motionless figure. Adren forced a casual pace on Endryk, and twice she had to put a hand on his sleeve to restrain him.

  ‘I’ve seen people sitting quietly in high places like that before,’ she said. ‘Believe me, both charging in and skulking in can have disastrous consequences.’ She did not elaborate but she did not have to restrain him again.

  At one point they lost sight of the motionless figure as they dropped into a rocky cleft gashed across the ridge. Momentarily disorientated, they paused, unclear which way to go when Nals’ ears shot up again as if he had heard something. He made a low uncertain sound, part whine, part growl.

  ‘What’s the matter with him?’ Adren asked.

  ‘I don’t know.’ Endryk looked puzzled. ‘Maybe he’s still a bit excited from the climb. He normally does that when someone’s about and he hasn’t made his mind up whether they’re friendly or not.’

  Nals fell silent but, seemingly still listening to something, he abandoned Adren to trot ahead of them. Then he was jumping and scrambling his way up the far side of the cleft. In the absence of better guidance, Adren and Endryk followed him. As they reached the top, Nals was waiting for them, tail wagging. The figure on the skyline was directly ahead of them. Adren was about to set off towards it when Endryk turned sharply.