by Sean Russell
But within the hour the smoke reached them, and it quicklygrew thicker. Tam woke Alaan, and everyone was soon roused by the causticsmell.
Alaan stood, gazing off into the south.
“It is a big fire, I think,” Tam said standing beside Alaan.“Given how few people seem to live in these lands, I would guess it’s theforest burning, not a village or a farmstead.”
“Yes, I’m sure you’re right, Tam,” Alaan said. “But is it anatural fire?” Alaan found his sword, crouched, and pushed the blade into theriver. For a while he stayed like that, still as a hunting heron. “Hafydd andLady Elise are still some distance off and traveling more quickly than we.” Hedried the blade.
The eastern horizon began to brighten, and the sky overheadgrew both lighter and darker at once, as their craft drifted beneath the cloudof smoke. A blackened land appeared around a bend in the river, the very earthcharred to cinder, black skeletal trees standing here and there, many othersfallen, misshapen stumps pushing up like arms broken and burned.
“Well, here is a scene of desolation,” Cynddl said softly.
A lone bird flitted low over the dark earth, landing on acharred stump.
Whist, whist, it called.
“Yes, Jac … it is like a battlefield with death anddestruction all around. One of many where Hafydd has ridden away unharmed,leaving devastation behind. And there will be too many more if he is notstopped, for he has allied himself with monsters, now.”
“Did Hafydd cause this?” Cynddl asked.
Alaan nodded. “So I would say. He tried to slow Sianon …Elise and kill her followers, though I think he succeeded only in the former.Elise is not like Sianon. She will not sacrifice her followers for her ownsafety. Perhaps Hafydd knows this, too.”
“But she is alive …?” Tam whispered.
Alaan looked at him oddly. “Yes,Tam, she is alive. Fear not.”
Here and there flames still flickered, finding some fuel onthe darkened earth. A stand of trees, missed somehow by the all-consumingfire, burned slowly, flame climbing through the branches, which fell away oneby one, spiraling slowly down like torches. No creature stirred in the bleaklandscape. The companions stood up in the boat, gazing at the black hills,rolling back as far as the eye could see.
A shout surprised everyone.
“There,” Crowheart said, and pointed.
A man waved from the shore. He was as blackened as the surroundinglands, his clothes smoke-stained, his face and hair dark as charcoal. Thecompanions maneuvered their craft up to the shore, and the man limped alonguntil he reached their landing spot.
“Alaan!” he said as he came. “Rabal! Tam!” He stopped whenhe realized no one recognized him. “Dease Renne, at your service,” he said, andtried to smile. “I daresay, I look a sight.”
“Lord Dease!” Alaan said, splashing ashore. “What has happenedto you?”
“I was separated from my companions,” he replied, sittingdown on an inky rock. “We had all gone into the river to avoid being turned tocinders. I let go my grip on the boat a moment because the paint had bubbledbeneath my hand and when I turned around, the boats were lost in the smoke.”
Smoke appeared to have worked its way into all the finelines of his face, even into his pores. His hair was singed in places, as werehis clothes, which were in rags.
“I don’t know what happened then, for I seem to have lostconsciousness. I awoke in a little backwater, lying in the shallows, fire allaround me. The bank I was on was not so hot as the other, so I crept alongthrough the shallows. Diving under to avoid the flames and heat. Going as faras I could, then surfacing for a few lungs of smoke before diving down again. Ididn’t expect to survive. It seemed like hours before I was out of the worst ofit. I waited for the fire to move south before I dared follow, and even then I’vestayed to the river, for the land is still hot, with pockets of flame beneaththe fallen trees and underwood. You step down, and flame erupts around you. Notat all safe for travel. I’ve been in the river, but it has not cleaned me, orso my reflection says. I fear I will be smoke-stained for the rest of my life.”
“You’re lucky to be alive at all,” Alaan said. “But tell uswho you were traveling with.”
“Elise Wills and Orlem Slighthand. Your friend Baore is withthem,” he said to Tam, “as are Gilbert A’brgail, Eber, and his son Llya. Mycousin Toren. And Theason came to conn a boat. Some Knights of the Vow andRenne men-at-arms. Perhaps twenty in all, though I have fallen by the wayside.”
“No, you have just moved to the livelier company,” Fynnolsaid. “It is an indication of your superior taste and judgment.”
“But how did you find your way into the hidden lands?” Alaanasked.
Dease shifted on his rock. “Llya, Eber’s son, led us. Hecame to the Fael saying that he knew where Wyrr was buried and could lead usthere.”
“There is always some unexpected twist,” Alaan said. “Wheredid a child learn this skill? And why didn’t he tell us this before? He mighthave saved us a journey.”
Dease shrugged. “He is a child of mystery, that one. Who canclaim to understand him?”
Alaan shook his head. “Come aboard. We have to press on,fire or no.”
“But can we pass the fire?” Fynnol asked. “Will we not beburned?”
“It has burned itself low now,” Alaan answered, digging apaddle into the bank and straining to push them off. “There are some rockyhills not far off. Even Hafydd’s fire will be hard-pressed to find fuel there.”
Dease clambered aboard, rocking the boat as it slowly gainedway.
“I can’t quite believe that I should find a such rough-hewnboat a luxury,” the nobleman said, “but after the last day, it seems the mostcomfortable craft afloat to me.”
“Find yourself a berth, Lord Dease,” Alaan said. “We willneed you to take a turn at the paddles.” Saying that, Alaan dug his own paddleinto the river and sent the log boat quickly south.
Thirty-two
Samul woke to armed men entering his chamber, swords drawn.He was allowed to dress, his hands were bound, and in a moment he was hustleddown the stairs to the front entry, where Prince Michael waited. The men worethe evening-blue surcoats of the Wills family, and were not, by the look ofthem, men to be trifled with. The Prince had his hands bound behind his back,as Samul did, and a look of sadness and rage on his face.
There was a disturbance on the landing above, and Franny appearedin her nightclothes, her husband catching her at the top of the stairs. Theystruggled there a moment.
“No, Henri! He is my cousin!”
Henri had an arm around her waist and held one hand by thewrist. “The Prince of Innes is dead,” he said. “Michael cannot help us now. Wehave different allies. There is no going back.” He pulled her away, sobbing andcursing her husband, trying to scratch at his eyes.
And then Samul and Michael were pushed outside and hoistedinto a cart.
It was still dark, but Samul could see his companion by thelight of torches. He thought there might have been a tear on his cheek, butthen he hung his head and was silent. The driver shook the reins, and the cartrolled forward, a mounted troop of Wills men-at-arms falling in around them.
Thirty-three
Dawn was not far off, Carl thought. He crouched behind atree, bow in hand, staring at a dark vein of road curling off into the woodbelow.
“Shoot the torchbearers last,” Pwyll said. “The driver ofthe cart I’ll shoot myself.”
Carl pulled back the arrow he had nocked, testing the bowPwyll had given him. His heart was pounding madly, not from fear, but becausethey had run like madmen to reach this place before the men carrying off thePrince and Samul Renne. The ever-resourceful Pwyll had bows and quivers ofarrows he had taken from some unlucky men-at-arms-perhaps the two they’d stumbledover in the oat field.
Carl could hear Jamm gasping nearby. The thief was frightened.He wasn’t much for a fight, especially one where they were outnumbered bytrained men-at-arms, but Carl knew he would do his best, all the
same. Pwyll,however, could not have seemed more calm. There were only eight men after all.Just a fair fight by his estimation, Carl was sure.
The drumming of horses and the clatter of wheels soundeddully through the wood, then torches appeared, bobbing and waving. The smellof smoke was carried down the dell by a night breeze.
Carl did not know the bow he was holding and would be luckyto hit anyone at all. But horses were large, and if the men rode closetogether, he might find some luck. He hoped only to miss his companions in thecart, which was why Pwyll insisted the driver be left for him-he’d used hisbow.
Carl pulled the feathers back to his shoulder, feeling thebow flex.
“Not yet,” Pwyll whispered.
Around the torches shadow horsemen began to take shape, ridingout of the gloom. The cart appeared, then the driver. Carl strained to seeMichael and Samul in the back, but the light was too faint. He hoped they werelying down.
The riders drew nearer, growing in size it seemed.
“Now!” Pwyll whispered, and they let fly their arrows,pulling two more free. A horse rose up, and the riders drew their blades. Twomore arrows flew, and at least one man toppled from his saddle. A horse spunaround and crashed into another, an arrow in its face, Carl thought. A torchfell to the ground, then another was thrown, the riders realizing the light wastheir enemy. Several spurred their horses forward as the driverless cart shotahead. Carl got one more arrow off, then drew his sword. The cart horse tumbledto the ground below them, the cart turning over on top of it. Two more riderswent down, their horses tripping on the doubled rope Pwyll had tied across theroad.
Carl followed Pwyll down the slope, where the men-at-armswere trying to get up among panicked horses. Pwyll jumped into the midst ofthis, his sword swinging this way and that, men falling before him.
“Michael!” Carl called in the dark, afraid of slaying themen he meant to rescue. He cut at the head above a dark surcoat and felt thesickening thud of a sword striking flesh, then bone. Dodging a horse, he threwhimself on another man, though this one had found a sword. Two missed strokes,then the man went down, his leg cut from under him by Pwyll. And then all wassilent but for the pounding of horses speeding into the dark. Jamm ran off andcame back a moment later with a torch, examining each fallen man and taking hispurse.
“They’re not here,” Pwyll said from the ruin of the cart. Hedispatched the horse, which could not rise, with one quick, sure blow.
“Michael!” Carl called again.
“Here!” came the reply.
“Up among the trees, I think,” Jamm said, and held his torchaloft.
Samul and Michael came stumbling down the slope, their handsbound behind them. Jamm cut them free.
“Who’s hurt?” Pwyll asked.
“I’ve twisted my ankle,” Samul said, and Carl could see theRenne grimacing in the poor light.
“Can you walk?” asked Pwyll.
“Yes, but I don’t know how far.”
“Pwyll?” the Prince said, recognizing the knight. “Are youour mysterious protector?”
“So it seems,” the man-at-arms said. “You need weapons.”
Swords and daggers were quickly found, as well as a basketof food in the ruins of the cart. They set off, first along the road, thenthrough a field of high corn. Samul was hobbling, and Carl and Michael helpedhim where they could.
Pwyll drove them on, silently, over the starlit land. Ifanything he was more wary than Jamm, and seemed to know the land almost aswell. By sunrise Jamm had led them to one of his hiding places, beneath acurtain of willow branches in a dense copse of trees. A little stream rannearby, and if they had not been hunted, Carl could hardly have imagined a morepleasant spot. Jamm unwrapped the food that had been packed in the basket, andhe and Carl fell on it like carrion crows.
“Well at least we got a meal and bath out of it,” Samulsaid, eyeing his hungry companions.
Prince Michael did not seem quite so philosophical. “I hopeone day I have the chance to roast poor Franny’s husband over a hot forge.” Heglanced at Carl. “Your father was right about Henri-thrice-worthless scoundrel!”
“I will take no satisfaction in that,” Carl said. “If A’tanellewas our best hope, what are we to do?”
“The army,” the Prince said. “I will go directly to myfather’s army. Let’s see how the men-at-arms feel about Menwyn Wills usurpingmy father’s place.”
“Lord Menwyn will know by now that you are on this side ofthe river trying to undermine his control of the army,” said Pwyll, keeping hisvoice low. “He’ll send many, many more men to find you. It is only a matter oftime until we are caught.”
“Then we must make all haste,” the Prince said, his voiceshaking with rage over his betrayal. “Where is the army of Innes, now?”
“They were east of the Isle of Battle,” Carl said, “when weescaped a few days ago.”
“They have moved south,” Pwyll said, and when the otherslooked at him. “I questioned some men-at-arms not two nights past. One had agreat deal to say.”
Samul remembered the two men they’d found in the oats, rememberedtheir pale, still faces in the starlight.
“Armies don’t move swiftly,” Michael said. “We’ll catchthem.”
They fell silent for a while, each man alone with histhoughts. Samul took off his boot with difficulty and soaked his swollen footin the cool waters of the stream. His jaw was sore from gritting his teeth.
“How did you come to be on this side of the river, Pwyll?”the Prince asked.
The knight shifted where he sprawled, raising himself up onone elbow. “I wish I had an answer for you, your grace-”
“Call me Michael. We’re a company of beggars, here.”
Pwyll plucked up a long stem of grass and began to chew onthe soft end. “After nearly being drowned in the Stillwater, I was spewed outinto the river on a dark night. I’d lost my sword and boots and was batteredand bruised; it was all I could do to stay afloat. Fortune sent a log driftingmy way, and I managed to keep hold of it until I found the shore.
“I slipped up the bank and lay for a time in the trees,gathering my strength. When the sky began to brighten I realized I’d washedashore on the wrong side of the river and went looking for a boat, too tired tomanage the long swim. I thought I’d row across by night, but before I had gonea mile huntsmen happened upon me and seemed to think I was some kind of Rennespy. We had a dispute over that, as you might imagine, and I was forced to killthem with my dagger. Fortunately, they weren’t skilled with the swords theycarried. One of them gave me his boots and another his sword.”
“How many of them were there?”
“Oh, four or five,” Pwyll said. “Are you going to eat allthat food yourselves or will you give a bit to me?”
Carl and Jamm moved the basket so Pwyll could reach it, andhe went on with his story as he ate.
“There were no boats to be had, and I learned that thePrince of Innes had tried to invade the Isle of Battle and been defeated inthis endeavor by Kel Renne. I knew then that all the boats on this side of theriver would be gathered together and well guarded, which left me to swim theriver. Unfortunately, the huntsmen I killed were found, and the countryside wassuddenly swarming with men-at-arms, looking for me … or so I thought. Itturns out they were looking for some spies who’d crossed the river a few nightslater. I was forced to go inland, hiding by day and skulking about thecountryside by night. And then I saw the four of you-two of whom I knew-so Ifollowed you to see what you might be up to. You know the rest.”
They slept and stood watch by turns during the morning. Justafter the sun reached its zenith they began to hear men calling out in the distance.Samul could see that both Jamm and Pwyll sat up, turning their heads this wayand that listening to every small sound. If fortune smiled on them, these wouldbe field workers or herdsmen, but then they heard horses and, far off, a hornon the wind.
Pwyll was in a crouch now. He parted the curtain of willowbranches, watched for a moment, then moved a do
zen feet and did the same. Jammlooked out the other way.
“Should we climb up?” Samul wondered, gesturing to the tree,but Carl shook his head and motioned for silence-perhaps being treed was notsuch a good idea.
Carl had one of Pwyll’s bows in hand though only a few arrowsremained. Samul slipped his sword from its scabbard, feeling his mouth go dry.There were only four of them, and even with Pwyll on their side they wouldn’tbe a match for even a small company of mounted men. Pwyll and Carl hadprevailed over their guards because of surprise-the guards didn’t know howmany men they faced in the darkness-and because of the ferocity of their attack.A dozen men would take the five of them down quickly-though not without losses.Samul squeezed the hilt of his sword. This is what he’d wanted-a clean death inbattle. An end to all his folly, where every decision he made seemed to goawry.
Horses could be heard.
“They’re coming up the stream,” Jamm whispered, and. plungedthrough the branches opposite. Samul followed, trying to go as quietly as hecould. They wormed into a dense underbrush, but too late. A shout went up, andhorses galloped toward them.
Samul heard arrows, and realized Pwyll and Carl were shooting.He leapt up from where he hid and saw the horsemen coming through the bush. Twowent down but the others were on them instantly. Samul dodged and parried ahard blow that nearly took the sword from his hand. His bad ankle collapsedunder him, and he went down awkwardly. A horseman aimed a stroke at him, buthis horse stumbled, falling forward and throwing the rider. Samul struggled tohis feet but the rider was up quickly, fending off Carl A’denne. The man foundhis balance and began to drive Carl back. Samul waded in, on the man’s swordside, swinging at his arm, feinting at his knee. Despite his immense strengththe man realized he was in trouble, up against two trained swordsmen. Heshouted for help, but Carl managed to slash his forearm so that he dropped hissword. The man raised his hands in surrender, but Carl drove the point of hissword into man’s exposed throat, yanking it free before the man fell.
