‘Lucien doesn’t need to fear any man, and I doubt he has gone far. He is too ashamed to be in your presence, but he cannot bear to be far from you, like any little boy with his mother.’
‘He is a little boy still, isn’t he?’
‘He’s ours to care for, Silvermay. I’ll keep him company in the woods. If Hespa will bring us something to eat each morning, we’ll be content until the fighting is done with. If he wants to talk to someone, then it can be me.’
‘Do something for me when you find him, Ryall. We made a pledge, just the two of us.’ I held up my hand and explained. ‘It was a game we played when he was little. It is how we sealed our promise to each other.’
‘I’d like to take that pledge, too, Silvermay.’ Matching my hand with his own, Ryall spoke the words I recited for him. ‘We’ll get through this,’ he whispered when it was done. ‘We’ve come so far. It can’t have been for nothing.’
28
The View from the Ridge
When Religo Norbett visited Haywode on my wedding day, he’d spoken of the grand army he planned to build, an army that would sweep aside the weak and carry him at its head to Vonne where he would be welcomed as King Chatiny’s successor.
We expected the fighting to take place twenty or fifty or even a hundred miles away. In the days after Lucien ran off into the forest, we discovered how wrong we were.
The first hint of mounting danger came from Lucien himself, in news passed on through Ryall and Hespa. Hespa went each day into the woods with a basket of food for them both, staying longer than she needed to, in my opinion. I couldn’t miss the sparkle in her eyes each time she returned, which was why I noticed immediately on the day it wasn’t there.
‘Lucien’s restless. He wanders from the camp they’ve set out for themselves,’ she explained, speaking too quickly, ‘and Ryall goes with him. Together they’ve seen long lines of armed men passing on the roads. They’re not searching for recruits or deserters, they are hurrying to join Norbett’s army, hundreds of them. Soon there will be thousands.’
The next day, some boys from the village risked a scolding from their mothers to go spying and came back with news of wagon trains loaded with armour, pikes and shields.
‘There was one full of arrows and nothing else,’ said one boy, still in awe of what he had witnessed.
Another pointed to where Hespa and I had strolled so recently to collect wildflowers for my wedding garland. ‘See that ridge. On the other side they’ve raised a huge pennant and all around it there’s an army, growing bigger while we watched. I’ve never seen so many men in one place before.’
War had come to Haywode’s doorstep. That same afternoon came men determined to stop it.
‘Strangers!’ was the call from our lookouts — little boys, again, who came racing into the village, frightened and desperate for the safety of home.
We braced ourselves for another visit from Norbett’s men. They had given up searching for more fighters and simply robbed us of whatever they fancied. But I soon saw that the riders approaching along the road from Vonne weren’t marauders. They were well dressed, if a little dusty after a long ride, I guessed, and too old to be Norbett’s outriders. Before they had reached Mr Nettlefield’s inn, I’d recognised one of them.
‘Miston,’ I called as the familiar figure dismounted. Or should I have shown more respect and addressed him as Master Dessar?
He turned at the sound of his name and smiled broadly when he saw me. ‘Silvermay. I was worried you’d been killed in Erebis Felan.’
‘We came close,’ I replied with a matching grin. It faded when I remembered that not all of us had survived. ‘Geran wasn’t so lucky.’
‘The young Felan who showed you the way? I’m sorry to hear it,’ said Miston.
By then, his companions had climbed down from their weary horses and stood listening.
‘I know this girl,’ he told them. ‘If the religos were as good-hearted as she, we wouldn’t be here now.’
‘Why have you come?’ I asked.
‘To talk sense to Norbett and the others,’ said Miston. ‘They seem set on war when there are peaceful ways to choose Chatiny’s successor. We hope to spare Athlane the fighting.’
What can five men do against the thousands that are gathering, I wondered. But they were scholars, like Miston himself; they knew our history and they knew both the good and the evil to be found in human beings. If anyone could make the religos change their minds, it was these visitors.
I wasn’t the only one pleased to see them.
‘Customers,’ cried Mr Nettlefield, rubbing his hands together. ‘I haven’t had travellers to stay since the troubles started.’
I swear, he was already working out how much to charge them as we stood there.
He was quick to hustle his customers inside, calling to the inquisitive boys who had come to inspect the strangers, ‘Take these horses to my stable.’
‘No, Innkeeper,’ said Miston. ‘Tether them close by and get these boys to bring them water. My friends and I will ride to Norbett’s camp as soon as we have washed the dust from our throats.’
Mr Nettlefield shrugged. It would be his ale they used for the washing.
True to his word, Miston led the other four out of the inn less than an hour later and, after half the village had watched them mount, they set off for the ridge and the army that lay beyond.
‘That’s the man who brought the news about Tamlyn’s mother,’ Birdie said to me.
‘Yes, his name is Miston Dessar. He helped us get Lucien back from Coyle, too. It’s not always warriors who win the battles.’
‘Then I wish he was our religo,’ muttered Birdie. ‘Better a man of his heart to rule over us than a greedy fool like Norbett.’
The sun was almost gone by the time our little scouts spotted horses rising over the ridge to descend the gentle slope into the village. My hope was a solid weight on my chest; I could feel it each time I breathed. But from the slow pace of their mounts and the droop of their shoulders I had guessed the result of their meeting before they came to a halt outside the inn.
Miston saw my long face. ‘I’m sorry, Silvermay. Your religo wouldn’t listen. And since he is such a persuasive voice among the others, we couldn’t convince them.’
He stepped down from his horse and handed the reins to a boy, who led the beast off around the side of the inn. Mr Nettlefield was making sure the visitors stayed the night.
I took Miston aside and asked, ‘Do they know a second army every bit as large as their own is marching south?’
‘Oh yes, they have spies counting its numbers. As long as they are no greater than their own, Norbett and his colleagues believe they can win.’
‘Who wins in battle when so many die?’ I asked in exasperation.
‘The men who command the chaos when the fighting is done,’ Miston answered quickly, ‘and that’s why they won’t hear of peace. Each religo believes he will be the man who emerges from this war with the crown on his head. None will say it in front of the rest, but that is the secret they all keep close. They are no better than the Wyrdborn.’
‘There are some in this village who wish the Wyrdborn were here still,’ I said. ‘Do you feel the same, Miston?’
‘No, it’s a fool’s idea to wish men like Coyle were still intimidating us with their cruel magic. We commonfolk should be able to rule ourselves in peace without them. But when I meet men like Norbett, I wonder. Justice needs a forceful hand if it is not to be trampled by those ready to take up arms against it.’
‘So there will be a battle?’
‘Yes, and soon. The northern forces are only a day’s march away. Norbett has decided to face them in a field not far from here. In years to come, Silvermay, your children will learn about the Battle of Haywode.’
‘If the battle goes badly, I will never have any children,’ I murmured. ‘And that might be a good thing, as I don’t seem to be a very good mother.’
Miston stared at me quizzically.
He didn’t understand that I was talking of my failures with Lucien.
I returned to our cottage, where Birdie had supper ready on the fire. News of the scholars’ failure had beaten me to the door, and to every home in the village, it seemed.
‘People are packing to leave,’ Birdie said, before I had sat down at the table. ‘With the battle so close, who can be sure what will become of Haywode? I’ve told the Grentrees you will go with them.’
‘Aren’t you coming?’
‘There are some who are too frail to walk. I’m staying to see they are cared for.’
‘Then I am, too.’
‘No, you’re young, Silvermay. Your life is yet to be lived.’
‘Oh, I’ve lived a long life already, Birdie,’ I said.
It was the first time I’d ever called her by her name and it drew a long, silent stare.
‘What will Tamlyn do if he survives the fighting only to find you dead afterwards?’ she asked.
‘I’m not going with the Grentrees,’ I replied, and was ready to repeat those words stubbornly until she gave way.
Then, as she so often did, Birdie surprised me with a sudden switch. ‘It’s what I expected of you, Silvermay, but I needed to be sure you were willing.’
She kissed me warmly before joining me at the table and while we ate side by side, she listed the jobs she wanted me to do in the morning.
Few of our neighbours slept for long that night. Dawn found many already gone, and the remaining mothers and children along with the old men and women were hurriedly forming into groups large enough to share the carrying and offer some comfort to one another along the road. To the east lay Vonne, where the battle’s victors would go to claim the throne, and to the north lay the battlefield itself. Safety lay to the west.
The village was unnaturally quiet when Miston Dessar emerged from the inn with the other scholars.
‘Bring our horses,’ they called to Nettlefield, who had to do everything himself now that the boys had departed with their mothers. Once he’d pocketed the visitors’ coins, he would be gone himself.
‘Only four horses?’ I said to Miston, when Nettlefield rounded the corner with the beasts.
‘I’m staying a little longer,’ said Miston.
‘A little longer will find you here during the battle.’
‘It’s after the battle I’m thinking of. Those fools over the ridge have no idea what misery they will unleash. There’ll be a lot to do.’
Later, Ryall crept into the village. ‘We’ve been watching the forces marshal all morning. My guess is that tomorrow will be the day,’ he told Birdie and me.
For almost a minute, I couldn’t stand, couldn’t sit, I couldn’t even swallow.
After he had delivered this harsh news, Ryall became hesitant, as though his next words needed to slip out unnoticed.
‘Er … Hespa didn’t come with the basket this morning, like she usually does. I went by her house, but it’s locked up.’
‘She’s gone, along with anyone else who can flee,’ Birdie explained.
Ryall looked disappointed, until he found me watching him and changed his expression. ‘That’s the sensible thing. It will be dangerous here, especially for a pretty girl like her.’ Then he realised his remark sounded like an insult. ‘Oh, Silvermay, I didn’t mean that.’
I laughed and kissed him on the cheek. ‘You like her, don’t you?’
‘Why wouldn’t I, when she’s been so good to Lucien and me. She’s brought us food every morning.’
‘And stayed half the day afterwards to keep you company.’
Ryall blushed. He thought about making excuses for her, then saw me fold my arms against such lies and changed his mind. ‘I hope she’s all right. The roads aren’t much safer than this village.’
‘You can go after her if you like,’ I said.
‘No, Lucien needs someone with him. The preparations for battle are upsetting him. He remembers Erebis Felan and the blood on his own sword.’
‘Has he said any more about Tamlyn and me?’
‘Not a word.’ Ryall shook his head in regret. ‘I’ve tried to draw him out, but the Wyrdborn anger flares in his eyes if I go on too long.’
My thoughts returned to the battle. Tamlyn and my father were destined to be in the thick of it. ‘How many men does Norbett have?’
‘Difficult to tell. Twenty thousand, maybe. You can judge for yourself if you like.’
Birdie was listening to our conversation, and at this suggestion she shot me her don’t you dare frown, which had scuttled many a planned adventure when I was young.
At seventeen, I was still young, but not a child. A married woman didn’t have to take orders from her mother. I waited until Ryall and I had done the rounds of our elderly neighbours to ensure they were all fed and comfortable, then I issued an order of my own.
‘But your mother said no,’ Ryall protested.
‘Then you stay here and I’ll walk up that ridge on my own.’
As it turned out, neither of us walked, not for the final hundred paces, anyway. The first fifty we covered on our hands and knees; the second fifty on our stomachs.
Ryall’s brief description hadn’t prepared me for what I saw when I raised my head cautiously over the highest point of the ridge. Below us, as far as the eye could see, an army had grown out of the soil — or so it seemed.
My eyes went first to the coloured pennants fluttering above the tents. The orange and yellow one would be Norbett’s, since those were his colours, and there were a dozen others just as large. I followed the straight lines of the pathways set down between the smaller tents and the makeshift shelters ordinary men had cobbled together for themselves from tree branches, clusters of pine needles, sheets, horse blankets and other materials they’d been able to scrounge.
‘So many,’ I murmured.
‘I told you. Twenty thousand, at least; maybe another ten thousand on top of that,’ said Ryall.
Some men sat in groups of three and four around fires, cooking, warming themselves or simply gazing into the flames. Others moved about; a few purposefully, as though they were under orders. Two men were wrestling in the dust while half a dozen others watched. In an open space to one side, a squad of twenty was being drilled in the use of long-handled pikes.
‘Tamlyn is down there,’ I whispered.
‘Can you see him?’ asked Ryall.
Not at this distance, although my heart leapt more than once when I thought, briefly, that I’d found him amid the horde.
Ryall didn’t bother with such a fruitless task. His eyes had wandered even further. ‘Do you see smoke in the distance?’
I raised my eyes to stare directly north, and nodded.
‘From the enemy’s fires,’ he said.
‘There is no enemy,’ I commented bitterly. ‘Only war.’
Ryall turned to me, his eyes forming a silent question.
‘They are all part of the same country, aren’t they?’ I commented. ‘When they clash tomorrow, no one will be fighting to protect his homeland from invasion, like the Felan were doing. If they were, it wouldn’t seem so pointless. Tomorrow’s battle is for power and nothing else. Thousands will die so one man can call himself king.’
‘Someone’s word must be law, Silvermay, or Athlane would constantly be at war.’
‘Then why can’t it be a good man, instead of Norbett or a religo just like him?’
‘Men have asked that question for as long as there have been kings. Come on, we’ve risked our luck long enough.’
The afternoon was mostly gone by the time we reached the village again. I was about to ask Ryall if he would stay and eat with us before heading back into the woods, when my question suddenly became unnecessary.
‘Hespa,’ cried Ryall. He ran to join her, with me on his heels.
‘Has your whole family come back?’ I asked her.
‘Just me, and my parents didn’t exactly give their permission, if you know what I mean,’ she answered.
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I didn’t need to ask why she’d returned.
Birdie told her off for being so reckless, then set a bowl of stew down in front of her and began talking of the jobs Hespa would share with me the next day.
Hespa fell quiet when she heard the news about the battle that Ryall had already shared with us. But she was never silent for long and she soon changed the sombre mood.
‘Silvermay,’ she called, ‘your wedding dress has hung on a hook for too long. Ryall has never seen you in it. I’ll bet you’ve forgotten how happy you were on the day Tamlyn saw you in it, too.’
‘No, no, I couldn’t.’
It seemed like a betrayal, but Birdie was on Hespa’s side.
‘We could do with something happy right now,’ she said.
Ryall, of course, would go along with anything Hespa wanted and before I quite knew what was happening, I was buttoned inside my wedding dress and doing twirls in the candle-light. My lifelong friend was right: the dress stirred my fondest memories and for that hour, at least, I could pretend Tamlyn was with me.
Ryall ended the fun when he said, ‘I should go now. Lucien has been alone long enough.’
Poor Lucien. He was another heartache I had let myself forget.
As I took off my dress, another memory hit me hard. I had chosen the dress’s blue colour because it was so like Geran’s gown on the morning she had sailed out from Meraklion to welcome us among her people. Until then, I had seen her only in men’s clothing, and she had been wearing men’s armour when she suffered the blow that killed her. She had not been afraid of war, nor of fighting. She had put her own life at risk to protect those she loved.
These thoughts spun uncomfortably around my head as I slipped on my dull red dress. I looked for Hespa, but she had gone out through the curtain. When Birdie and I pulled it aside, she and Ryall broke quickly from an embrace and glanced at us sheepishly. Hespa was weeping.
‘I’ll go now,’ said Ryall.
‘Wait, let me walk to the edge of the village with you,’ I said.
He didn’t object and, since Hespa had said her goodbyes to Ryall, there was just the two of us. Good, I thought, as we set off along the lane. It would be easier to do what I’d decided on if she wasn’t there to talk me out of it.
Lucien Page 22
