2
The sun was not yet fully awake when they left the Inn of the Three Bows, and neither was Kani. He was not accustomed to sharing a room with two women. He never knew where to look, could not take the glimpses of half-bared limbs and uncovered skin for granted. Worrying about it disturbed his sleep. How could one relax?
As he stumbled into the yard in the pale, pre-dawn light, he nearly bumped into Seeker when she stopped to stretch.
"A thousand pardons," he murmured, then realized he'd spoken in Turkish and repeated himself in English.
Seeker ignored him, but then she rarely spoke in the mornings. Perhaps she needed time for the acid in her blood to rise to her tongue. She was dressed for travel in her studded leather armor and carried her peaked helm, circled in ermine fur, by its strap, her abundant snow-white hair braided tightly atop her head.
A silver serpent twined around one wrist, another curved about her waist, and more slithered and glinted in the embroidery of her gold and black shirt.
He had never asked her what the snakes meant, and she had never volunteered the information. Perhaps they were relatives.
Kani lowered his eyes, chastising himself for his uncharitable thought. He was always short tempered when he hadn't slept well.
A breeze rustled the bushes lining the empty corral. Somewhere a bird chirped sleepily. Seeker finished her leisurely stretch and continued across the empty yard to the stables. Blinking and fighting back yawns, he trailed after her.
Calling the building a stable was a joke, of course. It was little more than a pile of sticks, a sorry collection of odd-sized branches and boards tied together with rope and straw. Light spilled from within through the many gaps in the sides, and Allysia's voice floated with it, carrying clearly in the early morning stillness. She was chattering to her unicorn in that undignified baby-speech again, as she usually did while she groomed it.
Well, that was fine with Kani. Whatever kept the animal happily occupied and away from him. He found the attention the creature paid him a constant and rather embarrassing annoyance. Though less so than Seeker's sly amusement.
"Did you check your horse's shoes?" Seeker threw back over her shoulder.
Surprised as much at her addressing him at all as at the question, he quickly refocused his thoughts. "Tufenk does not wear shoes. As iron are the hooves of Tufenk.”
Seeker glanced back at him and snorted. "We won't be riding in sand or grass all the way, you know. Once we get to the Sobaka Mountains, those 'iron' feet might take a beating."
He did not reply. Privately, he hoped they wouldn't be spending enough time there for it to matter. But to say so would only invite Seeker's habitual ridicule. "This place where we are going; it is the home of many Sobaka?"
Seeker didn't look around. "That's why we're going there."
"Then why is it that Sobaka are called, 'Lords of the plains' instead of 'Lords of the mountains?'"
Seeker pulled the rickety stable door open. A horse's whicker greeted her. "Hello, old man," she said cheerfully. Then her voice changed. "They den in the mountains, but they still hunt down here and in the High Plains between the peaks sometimes. I don't know why. Seems like a lot of extra work to me. And who knows anyway? Poets say a lot of stupid things." She passed through the doorway, leaving it gaping in her wake.
Kani caught the door before it could swing shut in his face and paused. Seeker's supremely uninterested tone told him she was speaking to him, not her horse, before he finished translating her reply. Was her lack of concern feigned? Surely she could not be as calm about the thought of riding into Sobaka home territory as she appeared.
Then again, perhaps she was. She was old, after all. What had she left to fear?
He straightened, banishing the thought. It would never be said of Ascham Kani that he feared what an old woman did not. He slipped inside the stable, letting the door swing shut behind him. A lantern, glowing from a peg on a post, illuminated the interior and reflected in the dark depths of bright equine eyes. He paused warily and looked around.
Seeker's horse, Shadow, whickered again, ears expectantly alert as he watched his rider approach. Kani had always believed that a horse reflected the nature of his rider, but in Shadow's case this was certainly false. The gelding was a good-natured old gentleman with a spotted brown and grey coat, as lively as a colt despite the deep wells above his eyes and the silver on his muzzle.
Tufenk looked up from her hay, fluttered her nostrils and flicked her ears at him before returning to her breakfast. Ah, dear Tufenk. All he had to do was reach her without attracting the attention of Allysia's fairy steed.
Keeping his eyes firmly on his own mount, he walked past the first stall, hearing Allysia's fond cooing from within. Good; with fortune, both of them would remain well occupied.
But before he was quite out of range, the beast thrust her frost-colored head over the stall rail to whistle a tuneful greeting at him. He felt himself flush in the lamplight as her musical whinny filled the stable. Despite himself, he paused, glancing at her.
He had not seen many unicorns in his life, but Allysia's, whom she called Lace, seemed much more horse-like. Huge dark eyes, alight with interest, glittered at him from either side of the foot-and-a-half-long, spiraled horn. Tiny, pointed ears pricked sharply forward. She was undeniably a pretty thing.
He ducked his head and started to hurry by, but Allysia stepped out from behind her snow-and-silver mount.
"Don't be rude," she said to him." She just said hello. You could at least be polite."
Kani stopped and took a breath. He turned to face the unicorn and bowed slightly. "Good morning, mistress Lace," he said, fighting to keep his embarrassment from his voice.
From the next stall, Seeker chuckled. "She surely has taken a fancy to you, boy. Wonder what it is about you?"
The unicorn stretched out her graceful head and blew a warm gust of air across his face before returning her attention to her rider. Allysia smiled meltingly at the beast, stroking the soft nose. "There, Lacey-lady. See? He likes you, too.”
Kani bit back the words that rose to his lips and, duty done, hurried toward the haven of Tufenk's more casual greeting, while Allysia continued to gush nonsense at her unicorn.
With a sigh of relief, he ducked under the railing and gathered a handful of straw to begin rubbing his mare's hide. The stableboy had already worked on her, judging from the smooth shine of her sleek bay coat, but Kani liked doing it himself, and grooming Tufenk relaxed them both.
By the time he had finished grooming and tacking her, his face had stopped burning.
The morning sun lit the road with a cheerful glow by the time they finally rode away from the Inn of the Three Bows and took the road toward Torsick.
Despite his lack of sleep, Kani felt awake and wonderfully alive. It was always good to be a-horse and on the move, even though it meant retracing the very route he had just taken on his own. Let the winds of fate blow him where they would. He was determined that, one way or another, they would blow him to fortune and glory.
There was little conversation at first, as they rode through the grasslands, for the grass lining the caravan road often rose to their horses' withers, hiding who-knew-what dangers. Kani kept a nervous eye out for the liontaur, or possibly an angry relative, but they passed without incident.
They reached the great Kiskorei River, which flowed from the mountains and the Mists beyond, forming a turbulent link between far-off Yasenovo of the red stone streets, and Torsick, city of onion-domed towers and glowing amber, and turned to follow it toward the Inland Sea.
By the time the sun had reached its zenith, the grasslands had given way to trees, and they rode in the dappled shade of aspen, birch, and oak leaves. Birdsong filled the air, underscored by the river's muted roar. Allysia called a halt, and they dismounted to let the horses rest while they ate by a clear brook that made its way toward the river.
"We must be clo
se to the ferry crossing by now," Allysia said, munching on a fig she'd kept from supper.
Kani nodded, his mouth full of bread and cheese that had been fresh the night before. "We will reach it by mid-afternoon at the latest. Are we then going to be crossing it?"
Allysia didn't answer right away, but sat gazing out toward the river. "If we don't cross now, we won't have another chance until we reach Torsick, and then we have to cross into the city. There's no other ferry until we reach the Inland Sea."
Seeker frowned. "There might be places we can ford." She took a bite of apple and chewed thoughtfully. "Torsick sits right between the Kiskorei and a smaller river…."
Allysia nodded. "The Olga."
"Yes." Her apple momentarily forgotten, Seeker drew a map in the air as she spoke. "The one coming down out of the hills. If you follow the Olga upstream, it ends in a lake. On the other side of that lake are foothills; those are the outskirts of the Sobaka Mountains."
Allysia frowned at the spot indicated by Seeker's hovering hand. "We could save some time by taking the near ferry and cutting across country."
Seeker hesitated, then shook her head. "No. We don't know enough about where we're going. Robert knew this country like his own right hand, but it's been too long since I was here. I don't trust my sense of direction anymore." She took another bite, scanning the sky overhead. "But I'd rather bypass the city." She chewed for a minute, looking down at the apple. "God, I miss Robert," she muttered.
Kani paused in mid-chew and tried to work the geography out in his head. The divine Robert wasn't the only one who knew his way around this territory.
"If I am understanding you," he said carefully, "then we do not know if we can cross the river once we have passed Torsick. We would perhaps have to ride all the way to the Inland Sea, cross the river, then ride back this way."
Seeker turned her hostile stare on him, but said nothing. Allysia's face was carefully neutral and she, too, stared at him. Had they not understood? No, he knew he was speaking correctly. He was not nervous. At least, he hadn't been a second ago.
That might change if they did not stop staring at him without speaking, as if his speech were unwelcome.
He continued. "If this is so, then we will be spending many more days riding through the mountain range before we reach where it becomes known as the Sobaka Mountains. This does not seem wise to me."
"It does not seem wise to you," Seeker said slowly. "And how often have you been here, O mighty tracker and guide?"
He took a breath before replying, reminding himself that he needed to build bridges between himself and the other two. Seeker's pride was doubtless at stake in some way. Perhaps she felt that he challenged her authority. "Once," he said carefully. "On my way to Tir. But I spent much time here, and I have not forgotten it. The way is not good."
Allysia grimaced and reached for another fig. "Well, I for one, think it would be nice to avoid Torsick."
Seeker shrugged. "I'm not wildly enthusiastic about going there either. I don't like the place. Never have."
Kani glanced from one to the other. He could not fathom the reasons that Torsick stood in such disfavor with the other two, but clearly here was a chance to prove himself to them.
He cleared his throat. "As I remember, if we were to cross the river here, and ride toward the sun while it stands above Tir, we may find a way through this wood and to the waters of the Olga on the other side. Surely from there, the mountains will be clear to the eye, and we may find our own way, and pass Torsick entirely."
Seeker looked up, searching his face as if judging the truth of his words. Allysia smiled. "That would solve two problems," she admitted. "We're close to the city proper. We'd have to work at it to get lost at this point."
After a moment, Seeker nodded. "All right. I'm willing if you are." It was hard to tell, but she seemed to be genuinely cheered at the thought.
As Kani had said, they didn't have far to go before they reached the ferry dock, a long tongue of wood thrusting out into the river's current.
The ferryman was bored and eager for business. He cheerfully declared that no river dragons had been reported for days — well, two days, anyway — and that, despite all appearances, the current was delightfully mild, he could take them across as smoothly as a mother rocking her child, and they could cross at any time for a mere four bits each.
While they hesitated, looking out at the swollen, white-capped expanse, Lace, who seemed to have a second sense about such things, pronounced it safe by stepping daintily onto the deck and looking back at the others with impatience. Allysia and Seeker paid for themselves and their steeds, and followed Lace onto the boat.
Kani flinched at the price but paid. Tufenk followed him closely, crowding against her rider and the other animals and looking as though she'd rather be anywhere else.
Once across the river, the route again led into forest, but now at last the journey became a pleasure. The trees grew widely spaced, with little underbrush, offering light and shade in equal abundance and enabling horses and riders to see all around as they traversed the green and fragrant pathways.
Sunshine spattered the trunks of the trees and dappled the forest floor. Wildflowers grew in the larger clearings, shedding their perfume into the cool air, and birdsong twittered from branch and bough, as if inviting the travelers to enjoy the beauty.
A cheerful little woods. Kani drew a deep breath just for the pleasure of feeling such air in his lungs. Coming this way had been a good choice. He'd managed to please his Triad. All would be well now. He could feel it in his bones.
The trail took a curving path away from the river, and the path thinned. Trees, their trunks thick and grizzled with age, began crowding around them, blocking out more and more of the sun. Branches grew thicker, drooping lower over the path as if to bar their way, until Allysia signaled the others to dismount and lead the horses.
As they walked, the underbrush grew heavier. The crackling and crunching as the horses forced a way through seemed deafening after the peace and quiet they'd enjoyed before.
Kani cast uneasy glances at the leafy shadows around them, hoping the brush would thin again soon. He watched the branches scrape foam from Shadow's dappled flanks just ahead, and thought of asking Allysia for another rest stop. In the lead, she and Lace faded in and out of the light as the trail curved around an outcropping of moss-eaten rock. Behind them, Seeker led Shadow and watched the ground as if the footing bothered her.
The underbrush was thinning, but it was still heavy going. Perhaps the others would not think him a weakling if he asked for just a short rest….
Ahead, Lace stopped and lifted her white head high, snorting an alarm. Tufenk's ears were up, her eyes fixed ahead. Kani laid a hand over her soft muzzle to still any possible noise and returned his glance to Lace.
Allysia looked up at her steed, then back at the others, her hand raised in a signal for caution. Kani nodded, reaching stealthily for his bow. Slowly, he urged Tufenk forward until she stood beside Shadow.
Allysia's attention was fixed on something directly before her. He leaned over and peered around her, while Seeker raised up on her toes for a better look.
A little person, sturdily built but so small he would have reached no higher than Kani's knee, stood in the path before them. He was clad in rabbit skins and held a stone-tipped spear before him. A fierce scowl marred his round, tiny face.
Allysia and Seeker looked at one another. "What is it?" whispered Allysia.
Seeker shook her head. "I don't know. But he doesn't look happy.”
The little man shouted something in a language Kani had never heard. He shook his spear. Suddenly the brush around them was alive with stocky little people, all bearing spears and wearing fierce scowls. Some were dressed in furs or skins, some in ill-fitting cloth garments, as if the pieces had been cut down from human garb, some in leaves, and some wore nothing but berry stain
s and smears of dirt.
"Uh-oh," said Seeker.
Allysia lifted one hand. "We are the Gold Triad. We wish you no harm. We are on a mission of great importance, and desire only to pass along this path and leave you in peace.
Her words made no apparent impression. The first little man scratched his head and looked at the little man closest to him, who wore an opossum skull like a helmet and whose spear boasted an alloy head. The two jabbered back and forth in high-pitched, squeaky voices, then looked at the Triad again. They shook their spears and shouted, sounding like a litter of pups given language.
"Offer them something," said Seeker. "A gift. The little Fey always appreciate gifts."
Allysia moved slowly, smiling, and reached into her saddlebag. Her actions brought the tiny warriors to bristling alertness, but she brought out a trail biscuit and lifted it up where they could see. "Look," she said. "Would you like a biscuit?"
"Bis-kit?" It was impossible to tell which one spoke; the shrill voice could have come from anywhere. They stared at Allysia, radiating suspicious hostility.
She very gently tossed the biscuit toward the first little man. He snarled something and speared the offering in mid-air.
"They're good with those things," muttered Seeker. "Take note."
Eyeing the Triad with suspicion, the little man pulled the biscuit to him and sniffed at it, then took a cautious nibble. His eyes widened. "Bis-kit!" he squeaked.
Immediately the others began leaping up and down and chanting. "Bis-kit! Bis-kit! Bis-kit!"
"Oh dear," said Allysia. She glanced back at the others. "Quick. Get out your travel bread."
Kani dug into his saddlebags. He found the roll of biscuits he kept for emergency rations and broke it apart, flinging biscuits into the flurry of tiny, grasping hands that suddenly surrounded him. "You have no taste," he informed the little creatures, smiling as warmly as he could. "These are not fit for pigs."
Obviously ignorant of Turkish, and doubtless uncaring in any case, the little man-things snatched at the offerings, stuffing them into their mouths and spraying crumbs hither and yon as they clamored for more. More of the creatures appeared, waving their spears and taking up the chant. "Bis-kit! Bis-kit! Bis-kit! Bis-kit…."
"One at a time," said Allysia. "Good heavens! I've never seen anyone go after food like this. They must be starving."
"They'd have to be to like these — ouch!" That was Seeker. Kani looked up and saw her cradling her hand. "I ran out of biscuits and offered this one a fig. He jabbed me!"
"Bis-kit!" demanded the offended biscuit-eater. "Bis-kit!" He shook his bone-tipped spear and scowled, jabbing at her foot. She jumped back.
"Bis-kit! Bis-kit! Bis-kit! Bis-kit. . . .”
One of the creatures leaped forward and snatched the fig she had dropped, scurrying quickly back into the mob. Seeker dug out another, and it was accepted with alacrity. Following her lead, Kani pulled out his own rations and began passing out bits of bread, cheese, dried meat, nuts, and everything else he had.
Between flinging out whatever edibles he found, he could see his comrades doing the same thing.
It seemed madness to him to give away all their food. And what would happen when it was gone?
"There go the last of my apples," called Allysia. "Anyone else have anything?"
"I'm almost out," answered Seeker.
Kani burrowed into his saddlebag again, but looked up with a helpless shrug.
"Bis-kit! Bis-kit! Bis-kit! Bis-kit…."
The Cavalier eyed the swelling throng of pint-sized barbarians before them and waved a hand back toward the other two. "Retreat. We'll have to find another way."
Kani found the idea distasteful. "But surely, as small as they are, they cannot defeat us."
Seeker's voice was sharp. "Killing fairy-folk isn't something you do lightly, boy. We leave."
Kani swallowed his protest. Seeker was right, of course. It was never wise to gain the enmity of Fey, even such as these. And always wrong to kill without need. In this case, retreat was definitely the better part of valor. Food could be replaced.
He turned around, hoping Tufenk could manage it without stepping on any of the little Bis-kit eaters.
The trail behind them was filled with the diminutive bandits. More shouted from the bushes and shook their spears from the lower branches of the surrounding trees.
"Bis-kit! Bis-kit! Bis-kit! Bis-kit! Bis-kit…."
Kani felt the first twinge of real fear and swallowed. "Allysia, I do not think that we can retreat."
Allysia glanced back and as he met her eyes, Kani realized that she was fully aware of their growing danger. They could not go forward. They could not go back. They must not fight. What could they do?
"I hope you brought enough for everyone," said an unfamiliar voice.
Kani whirled toward the voice, startling Tufenk. From the motion of the other horses, glimpsed from the corner of his eye, he was not the only one so startled.
For a moment, he could not find the source of the voice. Then a slight shift of movement, grey against grey, caught his eye.
There, on an outcrop of rock overlooking the trail, a strange creature lay watching them.
It had the body of an animal, rather like a large, long-haired dog, but its front paws ended in long, clawed hands, which it folded serenely before it as it regarded them.
Its face was like a wise old man's, sagging with wisdom and lined with thought, sagacity seeping from every wrinkle and dripping from the hairs of its long grey beard. But the small horns curving from its brow marred the impression of humanity, giving its drooping face a sinister cast. Long, pointed ears peeked out of the shaggy fur on either side of its face.
Its eyes were very old, and very merry.
Kani felt his skin crawl.
The creature blinked. "Well? Aren't you going to offer anything to the others?"
Allysia recovered her voice first. "We haven't any more food. But we'll gladly —"
The fairy thing wagged a finger at her. "That's not good enough. You must pay the toll to all, or you may not pass."
"Bis-kit! Bis-kit! Bis-kit! Bis-kit! Bis-kit! Bis-kit…."
Allysia glanced around at the chanting mass, then returned her attention to the longhaired creature just above. "We mean no harm. May we not pass in peace?"
The hairy beast sighed and shook its head, as though her question saddened it deeply. "Alas, that is not possible. It would hardly be fair, after all. You have invaded their territory. You must pay the toll."
She drew a breath. "And if we cannot?"
"Oh, dear. Oh, dear me, no, that won't do at all." The hairy-fairy thing gestured to indicate the surrounding throng of leaping, chanting Bis-kit eaters. "I'm afraid they'll be rather upset. You can see how excitable they are."
"BIS-KIT! BIS-KIT! BIS-KIT! BIS-KIT! BIS-KIT! BIS-KIT! BIS-KIT…."
Tufenk threw her head up, fighting to escape Kani's hold as the little beasts began clambering up her legs, scrambled over her like ants. Shadow plunged and squealed, almost jerking Seeker off her feet.
Kani looked around in growing fear as more and still more of the creatures came from everywhere. Fighting was no longer even a realistic option. There were too many of them. The Triad would be overwhelmed in moments.
Allysia shouted, fighting to make herself heard over the horses and the endless, high-pitched chanting. "What can we offer to be allowed to leave in peace?"
"Weeelll, I really can't think of anything at the moment…."
"Everyone wants something," yelled Seeker. "We're the Gold Triad! If we give you our word to perform some task, will you call off your little harriers?"
The hairy-fairy thing looked offended. "They're not mine, you know. I just live here, as they do. We happen to have a few interests in common, that's all." Even it had to raise its voice to be heard above the din. "But I will see what I can do. They really are very
upset, you know."
"We gathered that," shouted Allysia.
The hairy-fairy thing laid a hand against its throat as though clearing it, then raised one taloned hand. It spoke, its voice rolling and resonant. The voice shook the trees and rolled like thunder through the woods. It made the leaves quiver and froze the blood in Kani's veins.
It silenced the Bis-kit eaters completely. They turned as one to face the rock where Hairy-Fairy crouched like a great, grey dog.
The voice rolled to a halt, fading away into the shadows beneath the trees.
After a moment, one of the little creatures spoke, shaking its spear. Then another raised its squeaky voice, then another. Hairy-Fairy raised its hand, and they all fell silent again.
The creature looked at Allysia. "I'm afraid they're rather adamant. Hunting hasn't been particularly good lately. The people of Torsick have been poaching more and more often around here."
She drew a breath. "We promise to bring food —"
"That's very kind of you, but it really isn't an adequate solution." It raised a hand to forestall her protest. "However, if I may be so bold, I have considered another possibility, which I would like to propose."
She sighed in exasperation and cast a glance back at the others as if for support. Seeker shrugged, then met Kani's eyes. He hoped he looked more resolute than he felt. He wanted to die honorably in battle. Dying at the hands of these creatures seemed more akin to being pecked to death by chickens.
"You have us at your mercy," said Allysia at last, turning back to Hairy-Fairy. "Name your solution."
Hairy-Fairy beamed. "It so happens I'm a bit of a scholar, and over the past few centuries I've collected all sorts of interesting tidbits." It pressed its palms together as if in prayer, tapping its fingertips. "For instance, I happen to know that a certain Greater Fey once caused to have woven a lovely tablecloth. He intended it to supply his army when he went to war, and it was admirably suited for the purpose. When it was spread out, any food one wished for appeared, and a multitude could eat all they desired without depleting its bounty.
"Now, as it happens, the tablecloth was stolen through a cunning trick, when…oh dear, I don't mean to bore you with all the details." It cleared its throat and folded its hands again. "Let us just say that, what with one thing or another, the tablecloth has passed through many hands.
"Most recently, it came into the possession of a certain troll, who currently resides under a bridge across a tributary of the Kiskorei River.
"Now, in one sense, this solved a number of problems, since the troll stopped eating passers-by and other travelers, and has settled down so quietly that I'm sure most people have quite forgotten he ever existed. However, it does seem a bit of a waste. After all, trolls are not noted for their gastronomic sensitivity or refined tastes.
"If someone were to obtain that tablecloth, and give it to these poor, starving creatures you see around you, I'm quite certain they would forget all about you running out of those silly biscuits."
Kani doubted that the Bis-kit eaters were any fussier than a troll, but kept silent. He met Allysia's inquiring look with a solemn nod. Receiving a similar look from Seeker, Allysia turned back to Hairy-Fairy. "We will obtain this tablecloth, or die in the attempt."
"Oh, my, no, we can't have that." The creature looked flustered. "Why, suppose you left and then perished or something, and we never heard from you again? Whatever should we do? A promise has power, you understand, as does a bargain. It must be kept. We must have some sort of surety."
Kani's spine stiffened with offense. Seeker uncoiled, eyes flashing with a glint of sunlight on polished ice. Allysia's voice cut like frost. "I give you the word of the Gold Triad. That is surety enough."
"I know who you are," the creature replied, unruffled. "Allysia, called the White Lady. You have traveled a longer road than most can know, and have farther to go than you can guess."
It pointed to Seeker. "The Seeker: you rode out of Magdan long ago and carved a bloody path across Tir na n'Og in your youth. You are said to be as deadly as your totem, the asp."
The ancient eyes turned to Kani. "Ascham Kani. The best archer in your large and highly-skilled clan. You hope to win glory and honor for your family name. Be careful what you wish for." It smiled, a pursing of bearded lips. "Oh, yes, I know who you are. Knowing is my business."
Allysia's voice remained chill. "Then you should know that by holding us against our will, you are interfering with a vital mission, and risk offending the Gold Faction who chose us."
The creature looked pained and waved its hands to halt the flow of angry words. "Yes, yes, I'm quite sure. Far be it from me to risk offending the Gold Faction. However, magically speaking, you've put me in a delicate situation. A toll must be paid. I truly can't just let you go."
It brightened. "I know. I'm quite fond of my neighbors, overall, but I must admit, they are less than sparkling conversationalists. I would truly enjoy having you as my guests. Why don't two of you stay, while the third goes to fetch the cloth?"
"You would hold us hostage?"
"That is such an ugly word. I much prefer 'guest.'" Hairy-Fairy pointed at Allysia. "You, my dear, must stay. Anyone who would ride about on a unicorn is really far more interesting than an ordinary human. And you—" it pointed to Seeker —"have achieved an age and level of education that might make your company worthwhile to me. So many adventures. So many stories to tell."
It looked at Kani. "You don't mind, do you? I will treat your comrades to every courtesy, I assure you. Simply fetch the cloth and return, and you can all go your merry way, with my heartfelt thanks, and the humble if somewhat inarticulate gratitude of these small folk."
Kani opened his mouth, but no words came. A troll? A huge, hairy, living nightmare that could rip a man apart with its bare hands?
He looked at Seeker, saw the grim line of her mouth and knew, somehow, that there was magic at work here, though he could not feel it. He looked at Allysia, and saw the mute plea in her large, dawn-grey eyes.
He looked back at Hairy-Fairy, and raised his head proudly. "I will do this thing. How may I find the bridge of which you speak?"
The thing beamed. "Good lad! I was certain we could count on you. I know your companions do." It waved a hand back the way the Triad had come. "If you follow the river Kiskorei back toward Yasenovo, you will come across the place where the Drava flows into it. Ford where you can, and ride between the two rivers, staying close to the Kiskorei. Follow it toward the Mists, until you come to a place where a smaller river branches into it. Turn and follow that; the ruins of a town may still be seen upon the hillside above the river, and a great, stone bridge spans it there. That is the bridge you want. The troll lives underneath. Do try to arrive in daylight. You have three days."
"Three days!" Kani stared at the creature, aghast. "But that is not enough time!"
"Well," the thing answered patiently, "it's just going to have to do. If you don't return in three days, I shall assume that you have failed, and that the bargain is broken. Then your friends will just have to stay with me, won't they?"
Kani swallowed, and shot a glance of alarm at his Triad. Allysia and Seeker watched him with wide, speaking eyes, their hopes and doubts written there for all to see.
What would happen if he failed? Would they be forced to live forever in Hairy-Fairy's power? Would their Patrons, the mysterious Fey of the Gold Faction, permit this?
It was unthinkable…but not, he had to admit, entirely unlikely. The Factions did not usually interfere once they set the Triads their tasks. It was possible that they would simply be abandoned.
Then what would he do?
It could well be that Allysia and Seeker's only chance of freedom — perhaps of survival — lay with him. He must find and overcome one of the most dangerous monsters in all of Tir na n'Og, and return with his prize in three days.
Or the wor
ld might never hear of this Gold Triad again.
With a parting nod, and a final glance at his Triad, Kani turned Tufenk. The Bis-kit eaters, silent now, parted like water to let him pass as he headed back up the trail.
Tales from Opa: Three Tales of Tir na n'Og Page 25
