by Sean Russell
“The blade sank into his gut,” the giant said. “How can helive?”
“He will live,” Alaan said. “If Rabal says he will behealed, he will be healed.”
The giant looked up at him. “Then he must be a sorcerer’s pupil,for Arddu’s blood loss alone would do for most animals.”
“Luck has smiled upon you today, for Crowheart was nearby,”Alaan said.
“Luck …?” the giant said disdainfully. “If not for you,Arddu would not have been wounded, for those men were your enemies, not ours.”
Alaan didn’t answer, for surely the giant was right, Tamthought.
Stonehand stood looking on, bent just a little to gaze downon the injured beast, the lines of his face deep with concern.
Crowheart began to sing or chant softly over the injured animal.He stroked the slick fur around the wound and scratched gently behind the wolf’sears. The words he sang could not be made out, but their meaning could almostbe grasped, though no quite.
Tam had a moment to observe their hosts. They were like toOrlem Slighthand in size-Baore might have almost reached Stonehand’s shoulder.Certainly they would be more than double Tam’s weight, and Tam was not a smallman. Their bodies were thick and muscled, and a little round about the middle.They appeared to have been rather crudely carved compared to someone likeFynnol, who was slight of waist and wiry as a weasel. Their faces werehalf-hidden by beards, and thick hair flowed down to their shoulders. Althoughhe would guess there was little vanity among these giants, their hair wasclean, and their clothes, though worn and mended expertly here and there, hadbeen recently laundered.
“I will be here all this night,” Crowheart said. “Break yourfast and leave me to my duties.”
Reluctantly, the giants gave way to Crowheart. Stonehandwent to the hearth and took the lid from a blackened iron pot that hung from ahook. His companion retrieved bowls and plates from a cupboard and set thetable. In a moment they were all seated, eating a thick stew and chunks ofdense bread. Stonehand rose to shut the windows, for the room was rapidlycooling.
The sound of howling wolves came to them through the glass,distant and eerie.
“Will you set a guard this night?”
“The pack will stand guard. The men who chased you todaywould be foolish to come here, but if they do, we’ll know.”
The giants could have easily been brothers, but it turnedout they weren’t. It seemed they were reluctant to speak with the strangers,but every time they looked over at Crowheart and found their wolf still alive,their reticence softened a little.
“Are you the only two living here?” Alaan asked. “It seems alarge keep.”
“There is a third here this night. He might show himself byand by,” Stonehand said. “Others kept to the mountain this day to hold thestrangers at bay. We’re here for four full moons to watch the north pass.” Hegestured with a hand. “It is quiet duty, but needed all the same.”
“There is some threat from the lands to the north?” Alaancontinued.
The Dubrell glanced at each other, then Wolfson answered.
“You’re the first in many a year. ’Tis the to the south thatour lands are threatened.”
Stonehand glared at him, and Wolfson fell silent, applyinghimself to his stew without looking up.
A door opened then, and an old man came in. If anything hewas taller than the two giants present, even though he stooped a little underthe weight of his years. White beard and hair made a great contrast to hissun-stained face and troubled blue eyes.
The old man stopped short when he saw the strangers gatheredat the table, then his gaze took in Crowheart sitting by the injured wolf.Immediately he crossed to the animal, and Wolfson rose and went to where theold man crouched, stroking the wolf’s head.
Wolfson began speaking in their strangely accented language,of which Tam understood only a few words. It occurred to him then that if thesegiants were isolated enough to have developed such a thick accent, how did theylearn to speak the common tongue as it was spoken in the land between themountains?
The old man muttered a few words, then raised his eyes fromthe wolf to stare at Crowheart. After a moment, he got stiffly to his feet andwalked over to the table. Stonehand stood up as the old man approached, hismanner respectful. Alaan quickly followed suit, and the others did the same.
“This is Uamon, who dwells in this place,” Wolfson said, andintroduced the strangers, forgetting no one’s name.
“Sit,” the old man said. “Eat while your dinner is hot.”
Wolfson brought Uamon food and drink and seated him at thetable’s head.
Fynnol glanced over at Tam and raised an eyebrow, but Tamdidn’t know who or what this old man was either.
The Dubrell had a few more words, then Uamon spoke.
“Where is it you travel?” he asked in a smoky voice.
“South,” Alaan said, though Tam sensed he was reluctant tobe their spokesman.
“South?” Uamon said. “Better you went some other way.”
There was an awkward silence.
“Our route lies south,” Alaan said firmly.
Uamon dipped a spoon into his bowl, raising it to blowgently on a steaming chunk of lamb. He had a gentle aspect, this old giant, butthere was also a sorrow about him, Tam thought.
“Our people have trouble to the south,” Uamon said. “It ismy duty to ask what would take you there?”
“I seek someone who lives beyond your lands.”
Again Uamon sipped at his stew. “Beyond our borders you willfind dark lands. Shadow lands. My people don’t go there willingly. Of those fewwho have, only one returned.”
“We all have our duties,” Alaan said. “Ours lead us south.If you will let us pass, we shall bother you no more.”
“I suppose if a man goes seeking Death, one cannot stop him,for Death can be found anywhere-even within this room.” He glanced over at the wolf,who moaned quietly by the fire. “But what of your companions? Do theyunderstand where it is you go?”
“We have met Death’s servants before,” Fynnol said. “Onceyou have faced them, there is nothing left that will frighten you.”
“Do not be so sure of that. My people have long stood vigilover our southern border. Beasts have been seen there that were the stuff ofnightmare.” He shivered visibly. “What duties could take you to Death’skingdom, I wonder?”
Alaan’s reluctance to answer was obvious, but clearly hefelt there was no choice. They must have free passage from the Dubrell. “Wewill not go there-not to the gate. Only into the borderlands.”
“Ah. Only into the borderlands,” Uamon said softly.Still he concentrated on his food, not looking at Alaan. “I fear you do notunderstand what it is you do. Where it is you go.”
“I have been to the borderlands before,” Alaan said.
Uamon’s head lifted, his troubled blue eyes coming to reston Alaan. “What do you seek there, if it is not Death?”
“I seek … knowledge.”
“Better to sit at the feet of a wise man.”
“No wise man is foolish enough to have learned what I wishto know,” Alaan said, his voice growing testy. “Is it not enough that we aremen of good character, and that we mean no harm to your people? There areother races with their own struggles, their own troubles. We seek only tobring aid to our own people.”
Uamon gazed at Alaan a moment, while the other giantsshifted uncomfortably on their benches. They did not think Alaan should speakto their elder so.
“It is not enough,” Uamon said. “I must be assured that yourduties will not bring greater suffering to my own people-for this could be donewithout it being your purpose. The lands to the south are a great mystery.”
Before Alaan could answer, a deep rumbling was heard. Tamfelt suddenly disoriented, as though he were falling. His soup slopped overonto the table, and he felt himself thrown violently back, then forward. Andthen it was calm, only a spray of sparks from the logs shifting in the fire.
“They happen mor
e often now,” Stonehand said, looking not atall surprised. “The earth is restless.”
“No,” Alaan said. “A great spell is unraveling. A spell thatwalled Death into his kingdom and held two great lands apart. The earth tremorswill grow worse. Even the mountains might not stand against them, and in theend Death will be released and overrun the world of the living.”
Uamon’s spoon stopped as it traveled to his mouth, and hishand trembled visibly. He glanced over at Crowheart, then back to Alaan. “Howdo you know this?”
“Because I saw the chamber where the spell was made. I didn’trealize what it was then, but now I know. The spell is decaying, and I seekthe help of someone who might know how it could be repaired.”
“You know too much of sorcery,” Uamon said quickly.
“I don’t know enough,” Alaan answered. “Will you let us passthrough your lands?”
Uamon stirred his spoon through his soup. “I will considerit,” he said, then rose from the table, disturbed by what he had learned.Stonehand and Wolfson lurched to their feet as the old man rose, and the othersdid the same. Uamon crossed the room without looking back, closing the doorsoftly behind him.
The companions stared at the closed door for a moment, thenturned back to their food. An awkward silence settled over the room, brokenonly by Crowheart humming over the injured wolf.
Tam, Fynnol, Cynddl, and Alaan were led to a long barracks,where a dozen beds lined up against one wall. Stonehand had slipped away andlit a fire in the hearth here, but the room was still cool and damp. The bedswere made for the Dubrell and seemed almost comically large to the companions,especially as they were each made for one man.
Cynddl lay down on top of his bed, staring up at theceiling. “I shall need a growth spurt before I fit this bed.”
“Yes,” Fynnol said, “I’ve heard of having large shoes tofill, but I hate to think what having a large bed to fill might mean.”
Cynddl laughed, always appreciative of a quick wit. “Wemight comfort ourselves that they’re single beds,” he offered.
Alaan climbed into one of the massive chairs by the hearthin the room’s center.
“What do you make of these giants?” Cynddl asked him. Thestory finder rose and went to stand with his arm resting on the back of thesecond chair. “Given that the hidden lands have seemed almost empty of people,I’m surprised at how suspicious they are. Who could they possibly be fightingagainst?”
Alaan glanced up at the Fael, and then back at the waveringflames. “I’m not sure, Cynddl, but they fear things that come from the south.The Kingdom of Death is not distant. If the spell that walls Death in isfailing, then they no doubt have reason to be fearful and suspicious. TheDubrell are tied to the lands hereabouts and will not easily be driven off, butwhat exactly is going on I cannot say. It was such a long time ago that Orlemdwelt here. Much has changed. You should all sleep. We’re safe here, and youmight not have that luxury again for some time.”
Tam lay awake for a time, even after the candles had beenblown out. He finally drifted off as Alaan left his chair by the fire andsought his own bed.
He didn’t know how much time had passed, or what woke him,but he found himself aware in the darkness. The fire had burned down to embers,and a faint light of stars or moon illuminated the window. The even breathingof the others reassured him a little: no one else had been wakened. But then heheard a horse nicker.
He was at the window in an instant, staring down into thecourtyard below. At first he thought their horses were being taken, then herealized that riders were dismounting-perhaps a dozen of them, it was hard totell in the faint light. He could see one of the giants holding a lantern aloftand armed men going purposefully about their business.
And they were men, for they didn’t reach the giant’sshoulder. Some led horses into the stables, and others went silently to a doorin the lower part of the building.
“What is it?” Alaan asked, propping himself up in bed.
“A company of riders,” Tam said, pulling on breeches anddrawing his dagger from its sheath.
Alaan rolled out of his bed onto his feet, silent as astone. He was at the window instantly, hands resting on the ledge.
“Have the Dubrell betrayed us?” Tam whispered.
“Perhaps. Wake the others.”
They barricaded the door into the room with the massivechairs, and all waited silently. Their weapons had been left in the entrybelow, out of courtesy, and all they had were daggers and the fireplace poker.
“What of Crowheart?” Cynddl asked.
“Stay quiet and listen,” Alaan said. But there was nothingto be heard.
Alaan lit a candle, and they pulled the chairs away from thedoor. In the hallway they found no one.
Alaan balanced on the balls of his feet, his every attentionconcentrated on listening. “Tam?” he whispered. “Come with me. You two stayhere and open the door to no one until we return. If you are threatened, youmight have to go out the window.”
Alaan held the candle high as they made their way along thehall and down the steps, the treads set at almost double the height of thesteps Tam was accustomed to.
The large chamber where they had dined was empty but forCrowheart, who sat cross-legged by the prostrate wolf. The healer made nosounds, but stayed perfectly still, his eyes closed.
“Rabal?” Tam whispered. “Rabal …?”
“Leave him,” Alaan said. “He is in a healing trance andshould not be roused unless we’re threatened.”
In the entry they found their weapons still leaning againstthe wall. Alaan sheathed his dagger and straightened up, for he had beenhalf-crouched, like a man about to do battle.
“Whoever these men are, I think they’re no threat to us.”
Tam was reassured by the sight of their weapons, which hadclearly not been disturbed.
“But what goes on here?” Tam whispered. “Who are they?”
Alaan shook his head. “I don’t know, Tam. The Dubrell havesecrets, that is certain.”
Alaan opened the door and looked out. The courtyard wasempty, lit only by the last sliver of moon, the ancient light of the stars. Heled the way out into the cool night and down the giant stairs. In the courtyardthey found barely a sign that the riders had been there. And then Tam saw afaint gleam on the cobbles and bent to retrieve a small object.
“What is it?” Alaan whispered.
“I don’t know. It’s too dark to tell.”
Alaan looked into the dark stable, but there was little tobe seen there without light, and they hadn’t brought a candle lantern. Theywere up the cold stairs and inside in a moment.
By the fire, Crowheart sat unmoving. Tam paused for a momentin the doorway. He could see the even rise and fall of the wolf’s chest, and hewas certain it slept peacefully. Whatever magic Crow-heart was performingseemed to be working.
They slipped up the stairs, and the others let them backinto their barracks, where it seemed warm after the cold of the courtyard.Cynddl and Fynnol looked anxiously at their companions as they returned.
“Who are these men?” Cynddl whispered. “What do they wanthere?”
“I don’t know,” Alaan answered, shaking his head. He wentand warmed his hands by the fire. “Clearly they are friends or allies of theDubrell.”
“I didn’t know that men traveled through the hidden lands exceptby accident,” Fynnol said. He dropped to his knees before the fire, which hadbeen built up again in their absence. Tam could see that his cousin wasunsettled, wakened from sleep to find himself threatened.
“There are a few who can find their way here, Fynnol,” Alaansaid. “Crowheart is one. But for the most part, what you say is true.”
Tam remembered the small object he had found and fished itfrom a pocket. He moved to the hearth so that the light shone upon it.
“So, what is that, Tam?” Alaan asked.
“It appears to be a small broach. Oak leaves, I think.”
He passed it to Cynddl, who knew more of trees and plan
tsthan the rest of them combined.
Cynddl turned it over in the firelight. “It’s a fan ofsilveroak leaves.” He looked up at Alaan. “Didn’t you tell us, the night we metby Telanon Bridge, that a fan of silveroak leaves was the token of the Knightsof the Vow?”
Alaan held out his hand. He examined the silver ornamentcarefully, turning it over in his hand several times.
“That is the token of the Knights,” he said at last. Helooked up at the others, his face dark with concern or confusion. “Did thesemen wear the gray robes,Tam?”
“No, they were all differently dressed. Nor was their armormade to a pattern.” Tam tried to call up a picture of what he’d seen of the menin the courtyard. “Some wore surcoats, and others did not. I saw no devicesupon the shields, nor did they bear standards.”
“That is strange,” Fynnol said thoughtfully. “In a battle itis easy to kill your own men if they’re not clearly marked.”
“Yes,” Alaan said, “if you’re fighting men.”
Seven
He went about in a barrow. Beatrice Renne could notget that thought out of her mind. He looked a bit like a hog as well; round andsoft of flesh, his pate bald, and skin of pinkish hue. But he had saved thelife of Lord Carral Wills, and for that she would allow a man in a barrow intoher hall, and treat him with all the goodwill such a deed deserved.
“It is a story that will surely be made into song,” Beatricesaid. “Certainly it shall. How you found each other, then managed to get offthe Isle without being discovered either by the men of Innes or the manysearchers that Kel sent out …. It is almost miraculous.”
She thought Lord Carral looked rather improved by this unexpectedexpedition across country. A healthy color suffused his face, and he appearedto have been somewhat strengthened by his ordeal. Certainly his carriage wasmore erect. Perhaps it had merely taken his mind away from the loss of hisdaughter, and that would not be a bad thing. She herself had struggled muchwith the loss of her nephew, Arden-and his part in the plot against Toren hadonly made it harder. Though, of course, he had acted honorably in the end. Itwas a small comfort, but she clung to it all the same.
