The Shadow Roads tsw-3

by Sean Russell

  Tam shrugged. He sent an arrow down the draw, narrowlymissing a man who dived behind a pile of stone. “We’ve almost reached ajuncture here. If these men get any closer, we’ll start hitting them.” Tamglanced up the cleft behind. “They’ll almost certainly try to rush us, or we’llpick them off one at a time.”

  “Yes, that makes sense,” Cynddl said. “Once they’ve workedtheir way up to that little stand of pines, we should turn and run.”

  Tam was surprised at how patient they were, considering thatthe men making their way up the draw certainly meant to kill them. When theyleft the Vale he would never have expected that, in a short while, he would beso composed under attack. But since leaving the Vale his life had been in dangermore times than he cared to count. Passing through the crucible had changedhim.

  Crows, perched on narrow ledges above, began to caw and fluttertheir wings.

  Fynnol appeared, running. “Come up now, as quick as you can.”He didn’t await an answer, but turned and dashed back up the way he’d come.

  “Your cousin had a sword in hand,” Cynddl observed.

  Tam nodded. Both he and the story finder stepped out intothe opening and fired at men leaping behind rocks and bushes. Without a word,they turned and sped up the draw. The slope was steep, and they were soongasping for breath, forcing themselves to go on. The walls of the cut snakedup, then suddenly opened. Tam glanced up and saw the others not far off, thecrest hovering just above them. They appeared to be waiting, though theirattention was focused upward, and all bore arms.

  When Tam finally caught up with the others they barelyglanced his way, keeping their gazes on the crest. A massive man stood there,as large as Orlem, an enormous bow in his hands. Another, just as large, walkedup beside him, bearing a staff that looked like it had once been the trunk of asubstantial tree. The two near giants stared down on the smaller men below,their faces set and hard.

  “My eyes are playing tricks?” Tam said, barely able togather his breath.

  “No, they’re the Dubrell: Orlem’s people,” Alaan saidsoftly.

  “There are more like Slighthand?”

  “There is only one Slighthand, but this is the race fromwhich he sprang.”

  “What do they want?” Cynddl asked. “We’re about to haveHafydd’s spies on our backs.”

  “Yes, we’re caught between the hammer and the anvil. TheDubrell want us to go back, but we cannot. I’d hoped to cross their landsbefore they became aware of us. They don’t look kindly on outsiders.”

  “That isn’t particularly comforting,” Fynnol whispered, rockingfrom one foot to the other, an arrow drawn and ready to shoot. “If we stayhere, we’re going to be fighting a company with more than double our number.Can you not speak with these giants?”

  “They don’t speak with outsiders. They just drive them off.”

  Fynnol kept glancing nervously down the draw. Around them asmall army of agitated crows cawed, their dark eyes glittering in the dulllight.

  The giants above wore roughly woven cloaks of gray, and leggingsbound with leather thongs. Their hair and beards were earthy brown and long,faces turned to leather by wind and sun. There was so little expression inthose faces that Tam thought they looked like statues.

  Crowheart pointed to the left. “Can we move the horses there,behind those rocks? Archers will kill them all in a moment if we don’t dosomething to protect them.”

  Alaan continued to stare at the giants above. “Move themslowly. Don’t meet the eyes of the men above and do nothing they might take asthreatening.”

  “If we can get into the cover of some rocks here,” Tam said,“we might drive Hafydd’s guards back. We have the advantage of our position.”

  “Which was my plan,” Alaan said, “before the Dubrell appeared.If only we’d brought Orlem …”

  The crows began a raucous chorus, bouncing up and down wherethey perched on rocks and stunted trees. At the narrowing of the draw, thebirds on ledges bent down and scolded something below.

  “They’re coming,” Alaan said. “Everyone turn around slowly.”

  The traveler nocked an arrow as he faced the men appearingdown the rise.

  Alaan let fly at the first men erupting from the fissure inthe stone. He missed by a handbreadth, his arrow shattering on the stone. Themen dropped down but still came on. Some of them bore round shields, and theothers collected behind them. The angle of the ground made the shields doublyeffective, for they hid more of the man than they would on level ground. Tamand the others poured arrows down the draw, but these were less effective thanthey should have been. If they could have used their horses, they would soonhave been away, but the giants at their backs held them fast.

  “There are only two of the big men,” Fynnol whispered toAlaan. “Perhaps we should rush them?”

  “No, they have allies you’ve not yet seen.”

  “Then we’re about to engage Hafydd’s men at close quarters,”Cynddl said, “and there are still ten of them and only five of us.”

  Crows began to fall on the men, battering them with theirwings, stabbing at their eyes with sharp beaks. The company faltered but didnot stop.

  Tam cast his bow aside and drew his blade. Here was a fighthe did not relish, even more so as their backs were vulnerable to these hostilegiants.

  Something gray hurtled past Tam, followed by another. He wasknocked aside, and when he scrambled up, a pack of wolves was swarming over themen coming up the draw. The men fell back, trying to defend themselves withswords and shields. But there were twenty wolves, large and fearless, snappingand snarling as they dove at the men from all directions, even as the crowsfell on them out of the sky. The wolves clamped onto limbs with their greatfangs and refused to be dislodged.

  “Don’t fire any arrows!” Alaan warned, as Fynnol raised hisbow. “These wolves belong to the Dubrell.”

  Crowheart and Cynddl went to the suddenly skittish horses.

  They might never have seen wolves before, but they knew athreat when they met one. Tam saw that Crowheart quickly calmed them. Theyalmost seemed to gather behind him, as though he were their protector.

  Hafydd’s men were as disciplined as Tam expected. They didn’tbreak and run, but formed a tight circle, back-to-back, and made their way downthe draw, fending off the marauding wolves as best they could. The men weremuch bitten and torn by the time they reached the bottom of the draw, andthough they bared their teeth and shouted at the wolves, Tam could see howfrightened they were.

  The sound of the wolves snarling and howling echoed up thenarrow draw, then silence. The wolves reappeared, padding back toward Tam andthe others, their heads held low. They eyed the strangers and growled, baringbloody fangs. Some were wounded or bloodied from their battle, and Tam thoughthe had seldom seen a sight so frightening. The hair rose on the back of hisneck. He lifted his sword.

  “Offer no harm to these animals unless they attack,” Alaancautioned. “They’re all but sacred to the Dubrell; as valued than their ownchildren.”

  But Alaan’s hope that they would not be forced to fight wasclearly vain. The wolves came directly toward them, their eyes unwavering andfilled with malice. Their growling and snarling grew louder as they drew near.

  When only a few paces off, Crowheart walked out, putting himselfbetween the wolves and his companions. His sword was back in its sheath, andhis posture indicated a man at ease-not one who feared he might be torn apartin a moment. Softly he spoke to the pack, and the wolves raised their heads,perking up their ears as though they’d met a friend. They circled about theoutlandish figure, sniffing him, then licking his hands. All the while he keptspeaking to them in a soft warm voice, the words too quiet for Tam to make out.

  Slowly Tam turned his head to find the giants above him conversingin whispers. One of them called out, and the wolves reluctantly torethemselves away from Crowheart. They loped up to their masters, where theycircled about, wagging their gray tails like dogs.

  Rabal’s crow army washed out of the cleft in the roc
ks,rising up like a blot on the clouds. A few of the black birds detached themselvesfrom the vanguard and flew to Crowheart, landing on his shoulder andoutstretched wrist. There they cawed defiantly and preened themselves withnervous movements.

  Tam tried to calm his breathing. The wolves, with theirbloody muzzles, suddenly seemed like pets, when a moment before they’d beentearing into the flesh of armed men. Several of the wolves were wounded andlimping. The giants crouched down and examined the hurts, their faces graveand filled with concern. One of the giants stood and performed a head count. Heset off down the draw, Tam and the others making way for him.

  He stalked down the slope, his great arms swinging like treebranches in a gale. In a moment he was crouched over something on the ground. Hebore up a bundle of gray fur, carrying the wounded animal up the draw.

  He passed the strangers without even a glance. The wolf hebore was panting too quickly, and bleeding from a wound in its side.

  The giant turned at the top of the draw, where all the wolvesgathered around him. He looked back at Alaan and his companions, his mannerangry and grief-filled and fierce.

  “Go back,” he said in a strange accent. “You cannot passthrough these lands. Go back while you still live.”

  “I can heal their animal,” Crowheart whispered to Alaan.

  Alaan stepped forward, his manner respectful but not cowed. “Wehave not come here to bring you trouble,” Alaan said. “And we are deeply sorryfor any that we have brought. But Crowheart can heal your wolf, for he has thisgift, given to him long ago by a sorcerer.”

  Rabal glanced at Alaan as though he were about to protest,but he kept his peace.

  The grieving giant laid his wounded animal upon the sparsebrown grass and spoke with his companion, their voices so deep they seemed torumble up from some tunnel into the earth.

  “Who are you?” one of the giants asked, his voice drum deep.

  He addressed Crowheart, but it was Alaan who answered. “Heis a healer,” Alaan said. “Rabal Crowheart is his name.”

  The larger of the Dubrell crouched, stroking his dying wolf.He peered at Alaan a moment.

  “We know you,” the giant said, long, deep vowels tumblingslowly out of a cavernous chest. “The whist is your servant.”

  “Jac is no man’s servant, but he follows me all the same.”

  “He is a bird of ill omen and not welcome here.” The giantglanced over at Crowheart, whose minions still preened themselves upon hisoutstretched arm. “But if the crow keeper can heal Arddu, we will be in yourdebt.” He turned and spoke with his companion in what, Tam realized, was not somuch a different language as an almost impenetrable accent.

  “Bring your horses,” the giant said. “It is not far.”

  The giant took up the wounded beast and led the way down themountain. Only one carried a sword-a blade as great as Orlem’s-the other wore along knife on his belt. Tam guessed that men this large did not worry muchabout enemies.

  The Dubrell set a pace that the men found difficult tofollow, and they were soon back in the saddle, pressing their horses on, forthe great stride of the giants ate up the furlongs. Presently they were downamong the trees again, the forest growing more dense.

  “Look,” Cynddl said, his eyes turned up to the trees thattowered overhead, their boles a dozen feet broad. “These are spruce-but unlikeany I have seen before. Giant spruce!” And then he stopped as a vista opened upbefore him: a broad valley, hazy and green, at its center a turquoise lake. Thestory finder pointed. “It is the forest cloud: the alollynda tree!”

  Above the fabric of green, stood the round crowns of severaltrees that seemed to float over the surrounding forest. They were spring-greenagainst the dark color of the conifers.

  “There must be twenty of them!” Cynddl said. “There can’t bea stand so large in all the land between the mountains.”

  Tam did not quite understand the status of the alollyndaamong the Fael. Certainly it was not a sacred tree, as the silveroak had oncebeen to men, but the wanderers prized it above all others. Its wood was covetedfor faellutes and other musical instruments. Even the smallest, most simpleobject made of alollynda was accorded the highest value among the Fael. Alielhad told Tam that when an alollynda was cut down wandering companies of Faelwould gather and spend days preparing for the event. Three alollynda saplingswould be planted according to ancient teachings, though fewer and fewer ofthese had survived over the years. No one knew why. The alollynda had all butdisappeared from the land between the mountains, only a few still standing inthe most remote places, or on slopes where they could never be felled withoutbeing dashed to splinters.

  The giants stopped often to look at the ground, readinganimal prints,Tam guessed. They did not speak much, but kept their heads up,their eyes darting here and there, aware of all that transpired around them.

  “Who are these people?” Tam asked Alaan, as they rode neareach other.

  Alaan glanced at the massive men who led them, then seemedto decide that it was all right to speak. “The Dubrell are the remains of arace that prospered long ago, though even at their height their numbers werenot large. There are only two areas I know of where they still dwell;unfortunately, one of these lies on the shortest path to the place we’regoing. I’d hoped we might slip through before they were aware of us. They’renot a warlike people, but are suspicious of outsiders, whom they encounter veryinfrequently. We are thought to be bringers of bad luck-you heard what theysaid about my whist.”

  “You have been here before,” Tam said.

  “Yes. Once. I explored the route we follow now, thinkingthat I might come this way one day. They were not so lucky then-to catch me ina draw with enemies at my back. I eluded them. Apparently they haven’tforgotten, however.” Alaan glanced thoughtfully down the slope to the giantsmaking their way through the widely spaced trees. His handsome face was thinnernow, pale and slightly aged, though his dark beard was still neatly trimmed,his traveler’s clothes a little too well tailored.

  Alaan went on. “Orlem told me that he wandered up onto amountain-centuries ago-because he’d heard a story that other Dubrell haddisappeared there; Dubrell who knew the ways of the wildlands and themountains. He went searching to see what had become of them, but instead foundhimself wandering in strange lands, much as happened to you on the River Wynnd.He walked into the beginnings of a war in the land between the mountains. Acompany of armed men, beating the countryside for conscripts, came across him,and he was taken into the army against his will. But his size and strength, aswell as his unexpected talent for war, brought him to the attention of Caibre,whom he served for many years-before he fell under the spell of Sianon.” Alaanglanced back at Tam, who had been staring at him, as though he could come tosome understanding of this enigma who called himself Alaan.

  “But Orlem became your friend,” Tam said.

  “He was the friend of Sainth, not Alaan.”

  The sun sank behind the mountain, and a long shadow washed downthe slope, catching them like a returning tide. Dusk flooded among the trees,and they were soon squinting into the shadows, trying to see their way. But asthe giant had said, it was not far.

  What Tam first thought was a cliff turned out to be a stonewall, and set into it, a large gate. One of the giants whistled an odd patternand overhead was heard the scraping of wood on stone. A square of lightappeared high up in the wall, and a few moments later they heard a deep thudinside, and one of the massive doors cracked open. The giant pulled it wide sothat it screeched on its hinges. The wolf pack bid their masters good-bye, anddisappeared into the night. Inside, a dark courtyard could be seen, lit only bya single lantern, a candle burning within.

  “There is room for your horses in our stable,” the giantsaid. “If some of you will follow me. The healer should go with Wolfson.”

  Alaan and Rabal followed Wolfson up a stone stairway, leavingtheir companions to tend the horses.

  The giant took the candle lantern off its hook and led theminto the stable, which was occ
upied by a few large draft horses. The companionssoon had their own horses stripped of saddles and gear, rubbed down, and fedand watered. Tam thought that their horses would not likely see suchcomfortable housing again until they returned to the land between themountains. After a fortnight in the wilds, such a stable might look like acomfortable inn to him and his companions as well.

  “Come with me, now,” the giant said, waving at the door. “Iam Stonehand.”

  “I’m Tam, and this is my cousin, Fynnol, and our friendCynddl, who is a story finder.”

  The giant appraised Cynddl with his large, surprisinglykindly eyes.

  “We will take our supper soon,” Stonehand said. “If yourfriend can heal Arddu, then you shall share our meal.”

  “And if he can’t?” Fynnol asked quickly.

  “That is not for me to decide.”

  They went up the stairs and through a tall door made of oakplanks thicker than Tam’s hand was broad. A small entry hall opened up beforethem, the woodwork rough but the feel of the place homey. They shed their mailand boots there, leaning weapons against a wall. After a hard day of travel andthe excitement and fear of their contest with Hafydd’s guards, the smell ofcooking food lifted Tam’s spirits.

  Light spilled out of a door onto the plank floor, polishedfrom years of use. Stonehand led them through the door, and inside they found agood-sized chamber, well lit by candles and a fire in an imposing hearth. Coolmountain air flooded in the windows, for even in summer the nights were chillat this elevation. A few pieces of rustic furniture, of a size that made Tamfeel like a child again, were spread randomly about the room, and to one sidestood a long, high table, with benches to either side.

  A rough blanket had been spread before the fire and on thislay the wounded wolf, panting, mouth lolled open and wet with drool. Crowheart,Alaan, and the other giant knelt over it, Crowheart washing the wound with adamp cloth.

  “He will live,” Rabal reassured the giant, who was obviouslymuch affected by the beast’s suffering. “He will not be well for a few days,but he will live.”