by Sean Russell
“He will never keep such a promise.”
“Oh, I believe he will, and I think you will believe himyourself once you’ve spoken.” Fondor opened the door and motioned to someoneoutside. A young man dressed like a poor traveler came in. Carl had met PrinceMichael before, but this young man, though certainly the prince, appearedolder, less full of himself. He was certainly not smirking, as Carl rememberedhim.
“Prince Michael,” Carl said, and bowed badly, still shaken.
The Prince bowed in return. “Lord Fondor has told you of ourbargain?”
Carl nodded.
“What estates my family had are now in the hands of Hafyddor Menwyn Wills. Hafydd is gone off somewhere, we’re told. Anything might happenwith my father dead. There might be fighting between his allies, ambitious generalswho see a chance to take some lands of their own. If the two of us can preservemy estates, then I will gladly give lands to you so that our holdings will beequal. Better half of something than all of nothing, I say. But even moreimportantly, if some of my father’s allies can be persuaded to fight againstHafydd, then we might have a chance of defeating the sorcerer.” Prince Michaellooked at Carl closely, and Carl thought he saw some sympathy there. “There aregreater forces at work and larger things at stake, Lord Carl, than the estatesof the House of Innes-or A’denne, for that matter.”
“There is not much time,” Fondor said. “We must get you outof the castle before it grows light. Yea or nay, Lord Carl. Lady Beatricewould have your answer.”
“What will we offer Jamm, for to be honest I would neverhave managed my escape without him. If he will not guide us, we will almostcertainly fail.” Carl turned to the little thief. “Or would you even take therisk of crossing the river again?”
“What is it you want, Jamm?” Prince Michael asked.
The little man did not answer right away, but cast his gazearound the room like a man looking for a way out.
“I know nothing but the roads,” the little thief said,thinking. “Drays. Drays and teams to pull them. There is always much to bemoved from the river inland and never the wagons to do it.” He nodded. “A dozenlarge drays, new built, and teams of my own choosing.”
“If we succeed, they will be yours,” Prince Michael said.
Carl looked at Fondor and nodded.
“Horses are waiting,” the Renne lord said, and waved themout.
Carl still felt as though he were not quite on the ground,and more than once preserved his balance with a hand against the wall. Henoticed that Jamm did the same.
He lost his way in the dim corridors and later could nottell you how far he’d walked or how long it had taken, but they arrived at thestables, where saddled horses were waiting. Samul Renne was there as well,looking like a man who’d just been told his home and family had burned. Henodded to Carl but did not seem capable of speech at that moment.
Fondor gave them clothes to change into, and when they weredone they looked like highwaymen.
“Here is the fourth member of your company,” Fondor said,nodding to Samul. “Three of you are believed dead, so no one will be lookingfor you, but if you’re caught, better to fight to the death, for if MenwynWills learns you are alive, he will know that we believed you, Lord Carl, andnot Vast.”
In a moment they were led out a gate and were riding intothe now-graying morning. Overhead the sky began to change to blue, and twiceCarl noticed Samul Renne turn his gaze up, his eyes glistening.
“Do you think he told the truth?” Lady Beatrice noticedherself in a mirror, every wrinkle around her eyes standing out in high relief.She tried to smooth away the pain, but with only partial success.
“It is difficult to say; certainly Dease was there, and whenone looks back one wonders why.”
Lady Beatrice could see that Fondor was as troubled as she. “Perhapshe had tried to force Dease into helping him escape and when Dease wouldn’t…”
Fondor shrugged. “It would not really be like him. Samul wasnever known to be vindictive.”
Lady Beatrice nodded. The alternative, however, was harderto accept: that Dease had conspired to murder Toren, was to be the murderer, infact. And where was Dease now but off with Toren somewhere? The thought chilledher.
“Is Toren in danger?” she asked numbly.
Fondor shook his head. “I don’t think so. They were tomurder him because he was trying to make peace with the Wills. Toren is at warwith the Wills, now. Unlike Beldor, Dease was not acting out of malice, I don’tthink. But where have they gone, Dease and Toren?”
Lady Beatrice handed him a hastily scrawled note.
“It doesn’t say much. What does this mean,’… there aremore important battles to be fought.’?”
Lady Beatrice shook her head. “Sorcerers,” she said, hervoice harsh, “All this talk of things from the past, servants of Death.” Shelooked at Fondor helplessly, and shrugged.
“I hope he knows what he’s doing.”
“And I for one would feel better if Dease were not with him.Dease...,” she said sadly. Lady Beatrice touched fingers to her brow. “Iwould have said that Dease loved Toren. They were always very close. But theywere rivals for a certain lady’s affections, though Toren might not have knownit …”
This silenced Fondor for a long moment, a crease appearingin the center of his heavy brow. “I had not thought of that.” His scowldarkened. “Let us pray that Dease was not so inspired. Toren would never for amoment suspect it, for he is as innocent of this rivalry as a baby of hisbrother’s.”
Twenty-four
They came down from the high valley, wending their way amongtrees that cast long, serpentine shadows across the slope. With the sunbeginning to drop toward the western hills, even Tam’s shadow was worthy of agiant.
It had been an uneventful day. No minions of Hafydd hadcaught them, and they had encountered no one as they made their way across thelands of the Dubrell. Wolfson told them that his people had dwelt in this arealong ago, but the incursions from the borderlands had driven them all away.Only the border patrol still lived there, and they moved constantly, neverspending two nights in the same place. They were wary, Wolfson said, neverknowing when they might be attacked by the unnamed horrors that slipped out ofthe borderlands.
An hour before dusk they found the bottom of the hillsideand would have made better time had they not been so tired. Tam felt as thoughhe could sleep in the saddle, and he noticed Fynnol slumping down, his eyelidsslowly drifting closed.
A wolf howled in the distance. Tam barely noted the sound,but then he realized Alaan and Crowheart where whispering, suddenly very alert.Tam snapped awake, blood pounding through his veins.
“What is it?” he whispered.
“Wolves,” the giant said, striding up beside him. “Some ofmy people are nearby. They patrol the border.” Gesturing to Alaan to slow hispace, Wolfson walked out ahead, shafts of sunlight falling across his path.
A wolf appeared before him, then another. His own pack gatheredaround him, their hackles up, growling. Wolfson spoke firmly to them, and theywagged their tails and licked his hands.
A birdcall Tam did not recognize echoed through the wood,and Wolfson put a hand up to his mouth and answered in kind. A moment laterthe bushes parted, and two of Wolfson’s people stepped out of the wood. Theycast wary glances toward the mounted men, but Wolfson went forward, his palmsout, speaking their rapid, heavily accented dialect.
The giants met in a small clearing, talking surprisinglysoftly for men so large. Much nodding of heads, then one of the giants pointed,and Wolfson came trotting back to his companions.
“Come,” he said, “there has been a nichmear hunting herethese last two nights. Come quickly before it grows dark!”
Tam did not know what a nichmear was, but he dug heels intohis horse’s sides and followed the others. The giants were trotting along now,covering ground more quickly than Tam would have thought possible. They did notseem to tire, and Tam guessed they might keep up such a pace for half a day ormore.
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br /> They trotted along through the shadows and low shafts oflight, branches swatting them as they passed. The bars of sunlight suddenlyfaded, as though someone had snuffed a candle, the sun having fallen behindthe western hills. Twilight drifted through the trees like smoke.
Just before darkness fell, and the stars sprang to light,the companions broke out of the trees to find a ruin of tumbled stone, muchovergrown, but one section of wall had obviously been repaired; and it wasthere the giants led them. One of the Dubrell dropped his pack and weapons andclimbed over the wall, clearly knowing where to find purchase for feet andhands. A moment later the oak doors swung open, and they entered. In thefalling darkness Tam could see they were enclosed within a thick stone wall,roughly square and maybe twenty-five paces across. Two shed roofs had beenbuilt against the stone, one enclosed by a fence and clearly for horses, theother covering a hearth set in the wall. Four sets of stairs led up to rampartswith a rough parapet. One giant went directly up to the ramparts and walked aslow circle, staring into the gathering darkness.
Tam dropped down onto the packed dirt and weeds that made upthe floor of the place. Realizing how tired the little Vale-man was, Crowhearttook Fynnol’s mount. Horses were soon rubbed down and watered. Two of the giantstook scythes that hung in the rafters and went out into the clearing, comingback shortly with a small mow of grass between them. The horses munched happilyon this, though Tam thought they were skittish and wary.
A fire was kindled in the hearth, and men and giants weresoon eating dinner-rabbits and partridge they’d killed earlier. Benches-treetrunks with one side flattened by an adze-were arranged around the hearth, andthe Dubrell and their guests threw themselves down on them. Fynnol lay on hisback with his knees drawn up and was immediately asleep.
“You came a distance at a good pace,Wolfson,” the giantnamed Beln said.
The three giants, who called themselves sentries, were allyoung, or so Tam thought. He found it difficult to judge the ages of thesegiants partly because their faces were hidden by thick beards, and their voiceswere all dungeon deep.
“There is no time to waste,” Alaan answered.
The three sentries glanced at each other, then one of themasked, “What’s this we’ve heard of men forcing the north pass?”
Wolfson was slicing onions, his eyes watering. “We put themto rights,” he said. “I don’t think they’ll follow us farther.”
“Don’t be so certain, Wolfson,” Alaan said. “Hafydd’s servantsare more afraid of him than of us.”
“Hafydd … Who is that?” one of the giants asked. He wasthe one who smiled often. Tam had divided them up thus: the one who smiled,named Pounder; the vigilant one, Beln (he kept jogging up onto the ramparts tosearch the darkness); and the sullen one, whom they called Teke. He sat alittle apart from the others and said little.
“A sorcerer,” Alaan said. “One you don’t want to meet.”
“What is it you are hunting here?” Tam asked.
“A nichmear,” Pounder said. “Though it is the nichmear thatwill be hunting us.” He looked up at the sky. “The smoke and the smell ofcooking should draw it. The pack will start to howl when it arrives.”
Tam bent over and retrieved his bow and quiver. He strungthe bow quickly.
“Don’t worry,” the giant said. “Only one’s ever made it overthe wall.”
“But what is this thing?” Tam said.
“Nichmear,” Wolfson said. “‘Nightmare’ in the tongue of men.It is a massive thing. Two-legged, but with the horns of a bull. It has a tailthat cuts like a whip and claws that can tear through mail.” His face becamestrained and anxious. “It is thrice your height, or very nearly, and would takethe lot of you and smash you against the wall with one swipe of its claws. Itcomes out of the twilight, and is never abroad by day, and is the more frighteningfor it. We have killed one once before, and wounded others, always at heavycost.” He looked around the small group of giants. “One of us will be deadbefore morning if the nichmear comes.”
“You hadn’t us to help you before,” Cynddl said.
This caused the giants to turn away or back to their work,not quite hiding their smiles.
“I think you will find that Cynddl is not boasting,” Alaansaid. “They have fought the servants of Death before … and won.”
A howl carried over the wall, and the giants all stopped,suddenly alert.
“Eat up, now,” Pounder said. “Death has no servant more terriblethan this.”
Tam was too nervous to eat much, but forced a few mouth-fulsdown. They were all up on the ramparts in no time, armed with whatever weaponsthey carried. Pounder hefted a great iron ball on the end of a thick oaken handle.In the hands of a giant it would shatter bones-it would break rock, he wassure. The giants didn’t seem much interested in bows or arrows, though theyleaned spears against the wall, and some of these were for throwing. They alsokept a pile of good-sized stones, and Tam guessed these were to crush whoevermight attack from below.
The wall of their small keep was not high, about three timesTam’s height-the same height Wolfson had given to the nichmear. Tam hoped thegiant had been merely trying to scare him with his description.
Beyond the ruins of what once had been a fair-sized keep wasa broad meadow, which ran off to the south out of sight in the dark. On theother three sides a forest stood, nearer in some places than others. Tam couldmake out little in the cool light of the stars and the thin crescent of moon.
Wolves darted along the border of the wood, dodging in andout of shadow. Tam nocked an arrow and tested the pull of his bow. They wereall silent, giants and men-listening. Tam could feel the sweat on his hands andworried that his bowstring might slip off his fingers. Fynnol and Cynddl wereto one side of him, both with their bows ready. Beyond them stood Alaan and Wolfson,and the three giants waited to Tam’s left.
“Will the pack attack this thing?” Tam whispered.
In the faint light he saw Wolfson shake his head. “They’reafraid of it, and you’ll soon see why.”
A small breeze moved Tam’s hair, and he almost jumped. Thecracking of wood sounded somewhere out in the dark, and Tam raised his bow.
“It’s still some way off,” Beln said.” ’Tis the single thingwe can be thankful for when it comes to the nichmear: they know nothing ofstealth.”
“It isn’t really so big as you claimed, I assume?” Fynnolsaid.
“’Tis every bit as big, but in the dark, of course, it looksbigger.”
“Of course,” Fynnol said. “Don’t we all?”
Small clouds sailed across the dark ocean of sky, passing beforethe waning moon, throwing shadows down on the meadow and the half-fallen wallsof the keep. Tam began to see movement in every shadow. The giants postedthemselves on the four corners of the keep, but left the outsiders facing southas it was the most likely place of attack, they said. Tam felt vulnerable themoment the giants were gone. There was something comforting about having fourmen the size of Slighthand standing beside you. And only the giants had foughtthese things before.
“Is that something?” Fynnol whispered, and pointed out intothe darkness.
A cloud had passed before the moon a moment before, and theshadows spread out like pools of water. Tam strained to see into thedarkness-like staring into the night river.
“It is your imagination,” Alaan whispered.
“I think Fynnol is right,” Crowheart said. He pointed at thetallest section of wall. “There. Do you see.”
The horses began to mill around in their small enclosure,whinnying nervously.
Tam’s eyes began to water from staring into the dark. Therewas something there, he was almost sure of it. A darker place in the shadow.Alaan called Wolfson. The giant came pounding along the ramparts.
The cloud blew off then, and the faint light grew, spreadingover the ruins. The dark shape seemed to take on an outline.
“River save us!” Fynnol whispered.
It was immense and coming at great speed. Its feet, pounding
on the earth, could be heard now; a deep drumming that shook the stone beneaththeir feet. Alaan cursed. He raised his bow and drew back an arrow. The othersdid the same.
Wolfson came up beside them, and called urgently to the others,who all converged on the center of the south wall.
Run! Tam’s brain screamed. He struggled against hisdesire to flee, muscles in his legs and arms twitching. Run!
Fynnol fired an arrow at the “thing” converging on them. Andthen it was near, a blur of pumping limbs. Tam let his arrow fly then, but hemiscalculated the speed of the thing, which seemed to have materialized out ofdarkness. A glimpse of horns, a malevolent face, then it lowered its head andsmashed into the gates below. Tam was thrown off his feet and would have fallento the yard below, but Wolfson caught his shoulder and dragged him up.
The sound of splintering wood, the scream of iron hingeswrenched out of shape. Pounding like hooves on a barn floor, and the thing wasin the yard below, casting its gaze around and snorting like a bull.
It spotted the horses and charged the enclosure. Alaan’smount, Bris, leapt over the fence first, and the others scrambled to follow,knocking each other down in their panic. The nichmear smashed through thefence, pinning a screaming horse to the wall. As it thrashed and fought theshed roof collapsed, burying gored horse and monster both. Pounder had runaround the wall and jumped down on the fallen roof. Lifting his hammer, hesmashed it down on the shingles, splinters of wood flying up all around. Thecreature howled and stood up, throwing the roof and Pounder off. The giantlanded on his side on the hard-packed dirt, and struggled to his knees, dazed.
The creature looked around, extricating itself from the ruinof the horse pen by breaking away the roof with its claws. In the harshdarkness Tam could not make it out clearly-lethal-looking horns on a massivehead, shoulders muscled like a bulls. It tore its legs free of the debris andspun around, tail snapping like a whip.
