The Shadow Roads tsw-3

by Sean Russell

  Their guide spoke with the Fael who served there, and one ofthem turned to the strangers, and said haltingly, “I will take you to a placewhere you will wait. Please follow me.”

  He led them out of the door, not bothering with a lantern.They passed along a narrow walkway, smoothly paved with stone. The city of theFael opened up before them, lit here and there by lanterns hanging overdoorways. The walkways were not broad; three men might lie head to toe and spanthe one they were in. Upon each side stood buildings, some shops, othersapparently residences. They did not exceed three floors, there at least, theirdoors brightly painted, deep stone walls topped by plastered and half-timberedgables, all crowned by steeply pitched slate roofs. Everywhere he looked thefamed craftsmanship of Fael could be seen: a bench carved with flowers, windowsintricately leaded and some of stained glass.

  The city had a certain organization and harmony; at the sametime as it appeared to have developed in some random manner. Down a set offinely made stairs their guide led them. Around a bend, a small park opened upbefore them, a pond in its center.

  There couples walked, and elders took their leisure onbenches. A troupe of musicians played on a small pram that drifted aimlesslyover the waters.

  A’brgail saw Elise hesitate. He could almost feel her desireto linger in this place, to listen to the music-some part of her was thedaughter of Lord Carral Wills, after all. The Fael admired him greatly, andthat could be said of few men.

  Their guide stooped, and a hushed conversation ensued with awhite-haired man, who then hurried off. The guide motioned them on. Anotherflight of stairs led them down, but this was on the edge of the tower, for itlooked out over the world. A few clouds, smooth and still, hung in the brightlystarred sky. The waning moon would rise in an hour or two. A’brgail wondered ifhe would be able to stay awake that long. He had never known such exhaustion.

  They were led through a pair of large doors made of yakawood, the planks wider than any A’brgail had ever seen, or even heard of.Inside was a long chamber with windows opening out to the world beyond.

  “You are in the Chamber of the Rising Moon,” their guidesaid. His look was suddenly solicitous. “Is it true you are the daughter ofLord Carral Wills?”

  “It is true, yes.”

  “But we had heard you died in an accident.”

  “It was no accident, and I did not die,” Elise said, a greatweariness coming into her voice.

  The man made a small bow and backed away quickly. “I willsend you water for washing, and food and drink. The elders will come shortly.You have arrived unexpectedly, and they must be found and decisions made aboutwho will attend you.”

  They were left alone in the room, which was both elegant andspare, the decorations understated and strange to A’brgail’s eye, for theartistic sensibilities of the Fael were different from the other peoples of theland between the mountains. Columns were narrow at their base and spread asthey rose, seeming to whirl up to the curving beams overhead. Opposite the longbank of windows that looked out toward the east, tapestries hung over the stonewalls, their colors rich and deep.

  “They must curtain these windows to protect the tapestriesfrom the morning sun,” he said, thinking aloud, but Elise barely acknowledgedthat he had spoken.

  Even the scenes in the tapestries seemed strange to him,filled with disturbing images, completely unlike the tapestries he knew thatdepicted legends of courtly love or famous battles.

  Elise, it seemed, sensed his bewilderment.

  “Vision weavers!” she said, as though it were an answer to aquestion. She glanced over at A’brgail, and his face must have registered hisconfusion. “These are the work of vision weavers. That is why they look likedreams or nightmares.”

  For a moment more she gazed at the strange images, thenslumped into a chair and stared out listlessly toward the eastern horizon. A’brgailfollowed her example, finding the chair soft and welcoming.

  A few moments later he was wakened by the sound of doorsopening. Two young men and a young woman hurried in, bearing trays: water forthem to wash themselves and platters of steaming food. A’brgail didn’t knowwhich he needed more, but decided that it would only be polite to first washhimself as best he could.

  Elise did not wait to be asked, but plunged her face into abasin like an old campaigner. If the Fael were surprised by this, they did notshow it. Their dark faces remained masks of politeness. A’brgail was impressedby how far the goodwill toward Car-ral Wills would stretch.

  A’brgail retched terribly, bile welling up and burning histhroat. Hands seemed to be supporting him while another struck him gently onthe back.

  “I think he’s done,” a voice said.

  The knight tried to open his eyes, but the world wasreeling, and he closed them again. He was lowered to the floor, where he laystill a moment, his position awkward. His hands seemed to be restrained, asdid his feet.

  “Be wary. If she does the same, we’ll have to cut the gagoff.”

  A’brgail was not sure how long he lay still, or even if hewas conscious the whole time; but when he opened his eyes again the worldseemed to have stopped spinning, though his vision was blurred.

  “What’s happened to me?” he asked.

  No one answered a moment, then a woman’s voice was heard. “You’veeaten something that didn’t agree with you.”

  “Why are my hands bound?”

  “Because of the company you keep.”

  A’brgail twisted around, trying to see the source of thevoice, but his eyes came to rest upon Elise, who appeared to be chained to astake, a gag tied over her mouth, and a pyre at her feet. Fael men stood bywith flickering torches. Even with his vision blurred, A’brgail could see thatthey were frightened. No, they were terrified.

  “You’re making a mistake,” he said, trying to muster his energy.

  “It was not our people who made this mistake,” the womansaid. She came and crouched down before him.

  “She wakes!” a man said quickly.

  The woman reached out and touched A’brgail’s brow, as thoughshe tested him for fever. “We will deal with you by and by,” she said gently.

  Elise was given some time to recover, and when she had doneso, A’brgail watched her struggle against the chains, veins standing out on herneck.

  “I don’t think even you will break such chains,” thewoman said. “I am Adalla. This is Idath,” she said, indicating an older man. “AndTannis.”

  A young woman nodded. Adalla regarded Elise a moment, hermanner determined, but there was kindness in her face. A’brgail would not havewanted her judging him-she had an air of disinterest about her that suggestedleniency was not something she indulged.

  “I will remove your gag,” she said, “but be warned-if you beginto mutter or speak words we don’t recognize, these men will set the pyre aflameand you, and the thing you bear, will be turned to ash. Do you understand?”

  Elise nodded.

  Adalla signaled, and the young woman named Tannis removedher gag.

  “This is not the usual Fael hospitality,” Elise said darkly.

  “For which we will make no apology,” Adalla said, pacingback and forth before Elise. “We know who you are and what you’ve done.” Shenodded to the young woman. “Tannis is an accomplished vision weaver. Sheforesaw a woman making a bargain with Sianon, just as she and her sister sawthe return of Sainth and Caibre.” She turned and retraced her steps, handsbehind her back, head bent as though she watched every step she took. “Butthen, as often happens, her visions became unclear. Tannis saw Elise Willsbecoming the defender of the peoples in the land between the mountains. Shealso had a vision of Elise Wills falling, her shadow taking up the swordagainst us, carving out a kingdom of her own, and making war-perpetual, brutalwar.” She stopped pacing and stood gazing at Elise. “Two visions. One will betrue. One will not. If we set you free, will Elise Wills fight to defend us, orwill the shadow inside you triumph and plunge the land between the mountainsinto a century of war?”

&nbs
p; Elise closed her eyes. “I don’t know,” she whispered.

  “Lady Elise,” the woman said with feeling. “That answer willnot gain you your life.”

  “Lady Elise will never give in to Sianon,” A’brgail calledout. “I am sure of it.”

  Adalla answered without looking at him. “Men would givetheir lives to gain Sianon’s favor. We can’t trust your word, man-at-arms.”

  “But I have traveled with her, watched her risk her life forothers-a thing Sianon would never do.”

  “I will gag you if I must,” Adella threatened, and the Knightfell silent, frustration and anger boiling up inside him.

  “Perhaps you should burn me,” Elise said, meeting Adalla’seye. “I didn’t know when I made this bargain what it would mean. What it wouldmean to have her memories … Sianon traded her heart for the love and utterdevotion of those around her-”

  “But have you done the same, traded away your heart?”

  Elise’s eyes closed again, and tears appeared, tremblingamong her lashes like a drop of rain in a spider’s web. “All I know is that Ifeel as though I did these things, sacrificed my loved ones without remorse,sent legions to their deaths. She once had a meal interrupted by the news thatone of her armies had been destroyed-to the last man. She finished her supper,then spent the night with a lover, as though nothing had happened. I am sinkingbeneath the weight of these memories, of my own remorse and self-loathing. I amliving a nightmare. Death might release me. I might welcome his cold embrace.”Elise broke down then and began to sob, tears flowing freely down her cheeks.

  “Set her free,” Tannis said gently.

  Adalla turned to the young vision weaver. “Have you not beenlistening?”

  “To every word. She will never give in to the monster shebears. She would die first. Set her free. That is my judgment.”

  Adalla turned to the silent man who accompanied them, Idath.

  “Tannis is right, I think. Sianon would never have urged usto take her life. Lady Elise will win this battle against the creature inside.She is clearly the daughter of Carral Wills, giving no quarter to the darkness.”

  Adalla nodded to one of the guards who stood nearby, and hebegan releasing Elise’s chains. Another guard cut A’brgail’s bonds, but hecould not rise for loss of feeling in his legs and was forced to lie a fewmoments more.

  Elise stepped free of the chains and down from the pyre,chaffing her wrists. “Would you have burned me?” she asked, confrontingAdalla.

  Adalla did not blanch. “Yes, though I would have regrettedit all the rest of my days.”

  Elise and the Fael elder stood gazing at each other amoment, then Elise stepped forward and embraced her, as though she were a lostloved one. “I hope you have done the right thing,” she whispered. “I pray youhave.”

  Fifteen

  By morning the sun threw aside the covering of cloud andemerged full and round and filled with warmth. The birds sang songs to itsgrandeur and the high, green valley of the Dubrell sparkled with the night’srain. Beneath the sun the travelers began to dry, and by midmorning theirspirits had lifted after the events of the previous night.

  “There are no end of secrets here, it seems,” Fynnol said,as they stopped to let their horses drink from a rain-swollen stream.

  Tam thought his cousin looked less haunted that day. Itseemed to him that Fynnol had begun to think Death had singled him out andsought him relentlessly. But he had escaped the darkness again and now slouchedin the sunlight beside the little creek. He almost looked at peace, as thoughhe’d passed through the Lion’s Maw again, and the river that stretched outahead was slow and calm.

  Cynddl stood on the shore, his horse stretching its headdown into the cool waters. Gray-haired and pale, Cynddl looked like an outsiderdressed in Fael clothing. He also looked much older than his thirty-someyears-older than when Tam had met him near Telanon Bridge in the far north,that was certain. The story finder stared into the waters, his face grim andhis manner distant. Who knew what stories he found in such places? It seemed anywheremen had made their dwellings tales of war and treachery abounded. And men livedhere, in this land of the giants. Men led here by Orlem Slighthand eightgenerations past: Knights of the Vow, it seemed. And now they wanted to returnto the land of their ancestors. If they only knew what a place of strife thatwas!

  “How far is it now to the border?” Fynnol asked. He rose tohis feet and walked up the stream a few paces, bending to drink from cuppedhands, the clear water dripping through his fingers.

  “We will come to the edge of our lands tomorrow evening,”Wolfson answered. “Beyond that we do not travel.” The giant knelt on a rock atthe stream’s edge, as though someone so large could not easily bend down. “Wherehas the healer gone?” he asked. “Where is Crowheart? We should stay closetogether. These lands are no longer safe.”

  “He went into the wood,” Alaan said. “Leave him be. He isprotected by his guardian crows.”

  A sudden furious cawing brought Alaan to his feet.

  “Quiet!” he ordered.

  The sound of a horse cantering sounded through the wood, andAlaan had a sword in hand. A moment later a rider appeared. He was the youngestof the men-at-arms who had found them the night before. His horse made a dashfor the stream, and the young man sawed at the reins to turn it away. Winningthe short struggle, he then almost tumbled off the horse from apparent exhaustion.Wolfson took the animal by its bridle.

  Cynddl steadied the young man, who looked ready to drop.

  “Don’t let my horse drink too much,” the rider gasped.

  Indeed the horse was slick with sweat, wild-eyed and dancingback and forth. Crowheart came out of the trees and immediately took the horsefrom Wolfson, leading it in a slow circle, letting it drink a little, thenwalking it again. Almost immediately the beast grew calm and docile.

  The young rider had collapsed at the stream’s edge and drunkhis fill. He sat back, his legs stretched out, hands out behind to offersupport. His face was red, and he still gasped for breath.

  Wolfson crouched beside him. “I fear to ask the reason youhave ridden your horse to exhaustion, Wil. What has happened?”

  “Men forced their way through the north pass. The men whowere pursuing the strangers.” He glanced up at Alaan. “They had knowledge ofthe arcane. That’s how they drove the sentries back.” He stopped to catch hisbreath, as though a few words had taken it all away. “My company are huntingthem now, but there must be a sorcerer among them-”

  “Hafydd!” Tam said.

  Alaan shook his head. “He has matters more important.”

  The giant had crouched by the rider, but he jumped up now. “Weshould go back and help the Knights,” he said, taking up his pack and swingingit in an arc over his shoulder. It thumped into place, and he groped behind forthe other strap.

  “We won’t go back,” Alaan said, and Wolfson turned on him, glaringdown at the much smaller man. But Alaan did not blanch. “We won’t go back,” hesaid again. “Our task lies to the south.”

  “But what of the riders?” Wolfson argued, still staring downat Alaan.

  Tam knew that he would have been intimidated under such astare.

  “You go, if you must,” Alaan said, “but I can’t afford tofeel compassion for these riders. Not now. You don’t know what’s at stake.”Alaan spoke to the others. “We must ride.” But then he turned back to the youngman, who still sprawled on the ground. “I thank you for your warning, Wil, butI can’t help you now. My war is with the southern kingdom and its allies in alllands.”

  Alaan put a foot in a stirrup and swung up into the saddle.The boy had gained his feet by then, and taken the reins of his horse fromCrowheart. He watched as the strangers crossed the stream and faded among thetrees.

  “Come back for us!” he called, as they disappeared from hissight. “Do not forget us.”

  For a moment Wolfson stood, one foot in the stream, theother on the shore, then he waded quickly through the water and pulled himselfup onto the far bank
. Tam saw him look back once at the young rider, who stoodholding his horse, watching the men go. And then the boy was lost to sight, andWolfson came striding up behind, his face red.

  A crow touched Tam’s face with the tip of a wing as itsailed by, then landed on its master’s shoulder. Crowheart reached up andstroked its dark neck, and Tam was sure the bird closed its eyes in pleasure.

  Tam glanced behind again. They forced their way into thewood without conversation, pressing their mounts at speed. Tam could feel thetension in the company. Hafydd’s minions hunted them again. For him and Fynnoland their Fael friend this was a return of the nightmare. They had been lucky tosurvive their journey down the River Wynnd, ignorant as they were then. Theyhadn’t even known why they were being hunted.

  The trees opened up, and they rode through tall grass, thetufts waving in the breeze, tapping the horses on their flanks. Tam foundhimself behind Crowheart.

  “Rabal?” he said. “Why have you come on this journey?”

  What he had wanted to say was, Why do you risk your life?but this had seemed impertinent.

  Crowheart lifted his shoulder and brushed the crow off. Ittook to the air with a soft, cawing complaint. Rabal turned to look at Tam, hisblack eyes peering out from behind the sea of dark hair, the bushy brows, thebeard that grew high up his cheeks. “I come for the same reason as you, Tam,”he said, “to find out who I am.” Crowheart spurred his horse and rode ahead.

  Tam had tried to answer, to say, But I know who I am,but no words had come.

  “Keep up, now,” came Wolfson’s voice from behind, and Tampressed his horse on.

  The giant had taken up this rear position, watching behindfor the men who had forced the north pass. His great staff thumped the groundat each step, resounding like a falling log. Tam had taken to listening, tryingto find any noise of pursuing horses above the sound of their own mounts.

  The sky appeared to thicken, a thin gray paste spreadingover the high vault, uniform and oppressive. Wind came from the north, givingvoice to the lands around. High overhead, eagles soared against the gray.Occasionally Tam would see wolves trotting through the trees or the long grass.Twice they came upon herds of cattle being moved by a pair of giants. Thecattle seemed to pay no heed to the wolves, to Tam’s surprise. The giantsstared at the strangers and waved at Wolfson, who stopped to warn them of theriders-or so Tam assumed.