The Nature of a Curse (Volume 2 of the Year of the Red Door)

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The Nature of a Curse (Volume 2 of the Year of the Red Door) Page 59

by William Timothy Murray


  Little did he suspect what it was that she would finally show him, what made her so nervous and anxious. It made Ashlord's hairs stand on end. As he drew his horse to a halt, the rest of his companions halted, too.

  "What's the trouble?" Ullin asked from the rear. Billy thumbed ahead, toward Ibin, who thumbed ahead toward Robby. Out in front, Robby gestured to Ashlord with a finger on his lips.

  "He must be conversing with Certina," Sheila said, stopping her horse beside Ullin's. "I have seen him get very distracted with her."

  "Me, too."

  After several minutes, Certina hopped back onto Ashlord's shoulder. He sat a little longer, then, looking around as if wondering what was going on, he realized they were waiting for him.

  "I apologize," he said. "I didn't mean to hold us up."

  "Is everything alright?" Robby asked.

  "I don't know. I mean, I suppose so. I must think about things. We may resume our travel, now."

  "Very well."

  It began to rain. Ibin put away his mandolin as they all pulled out their long cloaks. With the rain, the air turned much cooler, and for the first time since they left Passdale, Robby actually shivered. The steady rain filled the land with the noise of its falling, quickly swelling the streams and creating patchy mists that floated across the slopes. Some of these mists rose up to suddenly engulf the travelers only to lift away just as rapidly. They led their horses, the trail being steep and slippery, and though the rain was never heavy, it was enough to make them wet and tired long before sundown.

  "We'll have a hard time making a fire tonight," Robby commented to Ashlord.

  "It may be some time before we have proper shelter, Robby," he replied. "We will be able to move more quickly once out on the plain, but should most likely avoid the few towns out there."

  "What is it like, out on the plain?"

  "It is a vast stretch of gentle grassy hills running from Altoria northward between the western forests and these eastern mountains all the way to Nasakeeria to the north. In the winter it is a barren, snow-covered, and trackless place. In the other seasons, it is tolerable. Quite beautiful in the spring and early summer. There are towns along the trading roads that run through it, but they are notorious for their strange practices and criminal ways. Havens for rogues, bandits, and renegades fleeing from every other domain. Among them are scattered honest farmers and cattlemen, and a few towns not governed by outlaws. For the most part, it is a place that is left alone to its own fate."

  "Does Duinnor not exert its will over those lands?"

  "They are in no realm, properly speaking, though the territory was once recognized as belonging partly to Masurthia and partly to Altoria and partly to the Eastlands. Most settlements manage to pay small tributes to Duinnor. Enough to placate the ire of fair-minded ministers but not so little as to warrant action against them for forgetfulness. They do not molest the Post Riders or any who are well-armed or of importance in the other realms. It is the lone traveler who must be wary."

  "But now that war is coming, what will these people do?"

  "They will no doubt throw in with whichever side may benefit them the most and threaten them the least. One town may go with Tracia, while the next village a few leagues away may join with Duinnor, and the next with the Damar. Who can say? To the north, the Galinot warlord surely seeks to strengthen his position against the Damar. And as for the Damar, they have long looked upon Tallinvale with envy. It is likely their attention will be directed that way. The Galinots may cast their lot in with Glareth, if it comes to that, for if the Damar take Tallinvale, their lands will fall next."

  "An' once we cross the plain," Billy asked, "what then?"

  "We go west, then north to Minion Gap, then through the hills and back south to Vanara."

  "Sounds like a long way."

  "It is likely we will trudge through snow before we reach Vanara," Ashlord nodded. "It is at least three hundred leagues away, and more, depending on the way we take on the other side of the plains. So perhaps five or six weeks of swift travel."

  "Why will it take us so long?" asked Robby. "Ullin, didn't you say it only took a month or so for you to come to Passdale from Duinnor?"

  "Yes. But I was alone, on swift Anerath, and we took little rest. Also, I came the nearest way from Duinnor, down across the northern plains and then through the high gaps of the Carthanes. It was summertime, and there was little snow. I encountered few obstacles, and I traveled openly, unmolested by bandits or the Galinots, who still respect the King's riders. But the snows on Loringard Pass come early and deep, and that way is now closed, as I have told you before. This way that we go is much longer and through disputed and unsettled lands. And, also, there are six of us."

  "And if we go to find Griferis," Ashlord pointed out, "so much the longer it may take us to reach Duinnor."

  Robby wondered if having so many along was a mistake. It began for him a long and deep consideration of their mission, his own role in it, and the risk they all were taking for him.

  "We are in this together," Ashlord said after several minutes, as if knowing Robby's thoughts. "Each of us has a stake in this quest. As does the whole world. Just as surely as there are those who rely upon our failure and who seek to stop us. Particularly, to stop you, Robby."

  The road, not much more than a path, took them on so many turns and bends and climbs and descents that Robby had little sense of which way they were actually going. The light, subdued probably even on the brightest days by the flanks of the mountains, was even dimmer through the rainy clouds, and it was growing darker. Robby reckoned it was getting on toward evening when they came along a place where the way skirted under a long rocky overhang, at the back of which was a shallow cave.

  "Ashlord!" Ullin called. "This may be as good a place as we'll have to rest tonight."

  Ashlord came back and looked at the place Ullin indicated.

  "It is right against the road."

  "I grant you that, but it looks fairly dry. If we squeeze against the wall we may not get too wet. No room for a fire, though."

  The others gathered around to look at the place, no more than a little shelf of mossy rock, not even high enough to stand under, but about seven or eight feet deep and about twelve wide, forming an almost insubstantial grotto. But it was out of the rain.

  "With this rain, and nightfall, I doubt if the Damar will move very fast, anyway."

  "Very well," Ashlord conceded. "But we must be off at first light."

  It did not take long for the group to see to the horses and to make a cozy fit of themselves and their blankets under the outcrop. They had dried beef and hard bread to eat, with plenty of water, and as they leaned against the back wall and chewed, they said little. The daylight was soon gone altogether, and they were amazed to find that the moss that grew over their heads on the underside of the rock gave off an eerie blue-green glow. It was a very soft light, but enough for them to make out each other's shapes in the gloom. Ashlord, particularly, was interested in the stuff and said it had been many years since he had seen Peller's Carpet, as he knew it to be called. He gathered some and put it in his pouch as Certina watched.

  "It is a kind of lichen," he said. "There was once a forest garden near Vanara, on the other side of the river Stayborn, where the paths were all covered with this. It was soft and silent to walk upon, and did not seem to mind the wear. Not that many people ever trod there. It was a moon garden where everything bloomed at night. You remember that place, don't you, Certina?"

  Robby could see only a dark outline of Ashlord, though he was right beside him, and was fascinated not only by Ashlord's tale, but also of the gentle love in his voice when he addressed Certina. He wished he could see his expression and the bird's reaction. All he heard was a little sigh. Reaching with his left hand, he found and took Sheila's. The rain eased until only the insistent dripping of the forest was heard, and the nearby trickles of water running over the ledge in front of them was reduced to only steady drops,
too. But the sound was all around in the forest, near and far in the blackness beyond their shelter. Though they all knew it was only water dripping for miles around, the drops snapped into the leaves, and tapped onto the rocks, and sometimes gurgled away down the path in an uncanny manner, often sounding like footsteps or even the sound of a distant hoof. It was, to say the least, not very restful, but neither their discomfort nor their fear ever got the best of them.

  "I do believe I liked the last cave we stayed in much better than this'un," Billy said from the far end of their shelter. "Not as—yawn!—damp."

  "Don't complain," Ullin said. "This might be the last roof over your head for a long time to come."

  "Oh, I ain't complainin'. Just makin' a note, so to say."

  "Ah."

  Sheila moved closer to Robby, and he put his arm around her. She moved closer to his ear and whispered, "I wish we could be alone."

  On the other side of her, Ullin sat, like Robby, with his back against the wall.

  "How is your leg, Ibin?" he asked. Next to him, Ibin stirred, and Ullin realized that he had spoken to Ibin just as he was dropping off to sleep.

  "Myleg?"

  "Yes. Are you in much pain?"

  "OhyoumeanwhereIgotcut?"

  "Yes."

  "No, no, noitdoesn'thurtverymuchanymore."

  "That's good."

  "Yeah, uhuh, yeahthat'sgood."

  "You haven't said anything about Certina's trip, Ashlord," Robby said as the older man settled next to his right side.

  "She has given me a lot to think about," he said. "And I have not had the chance to ponder it through, much less speak about it."

  Robby nodded in the darkness.

  "But I am relieved that she is back with us," Ashlord went on. "I'm afraid it was pretty hard on her. Wasn't it, my little lady?"

  Robby thought he heard a low whistle but could not be sure with the noise of all the dripping.

  "She carried my message to another of my order, one called Raynor. If you ever are in Duinnor and need help, go to him. He is trustworthy and as knowledgeable as I about how things are. Look for him at house Number Three, on Crescent Avenue, where he has his apartment. He is a bookseller and sometimes a tutor, so it would not be unusual for him to receive visitors. Remember, Raynor, bookseller, Number Three, Crescent Avenue."

  "Crescent Avenue," Robby repeated. "Raynor."

  "He is out of favor in Duinnor, so be discreet. And if you meet him, be patient. He may seem rather odd. Do not cross him, whatever you do."

  "I won't!"

  "He tells me that there is much discord in Duinnor. And the people are concerned and fearful. I will not burden you with all that Raynor told me, but suffice it to say that the government is in shambles with various men of power contending with one another for their share. I fear that Duinnor is in turmoil and is edging toward anarchy and ruin. Only some great and overwhelming change, some power to control those who plot ruin, can save the Realm. I need not tell you that, without Duinnor's aid, Tracia and the Dragonkind armies will be unchecked. I have sent news of the events in Barley and in Tallinvale to Raynor, and he will know who to tell and how to tell it. I have also sent word to him of you, Robby, and where we intend to go."

  Robby suddenly became very uncomfortable as he did whenever he contemplated his fate and the expectations upon him.

  "But there is more to Certina's tale than all that," Ashlord went on. "On her way back to us, she was attacked. By a black eagle."

  "An eagle?"

  "A black eagle. They are the minions of Shatuum, and they travel far and wide to report whatever they see."

  "But she escaped. And she's alright, isn't she?"

  "She is well. But she didn't exactly escape. She was set free."

  "I don't understand."

  "I don't either, but here is what I know. She was pursued from Duinnor over the plains. She is strong and swift, and not without wit, but no match for such beasts that stalked her. She made for Nasakeeria, and it was there, exhausted, that the black bird overcame her. Just as it was about to strike her, it was itself struck down by an arrow from Nasakeeria. Exhausted, Certina fell to the ground, unharmed but helpless for a time. At this point, her tale grows confused and difficult for even me to understand. She says, in her way, that one of her captors, a woman, spoke to her in an ancient language. But she does not remember what was said. She was fed and rested for a whole day, kept inside the cottage of the hunter who killed the black eagle. Besides the hunter and the woman she spoke with, many others she saw, and there were many comings and goings at the cottage of those wishing to see Certina. But Certina struggles to tell me, and can only show me in bits and pieces, which is not her usual way. She repeats over and over that they are desert people."

  "Dragonkind? There are Dragonkind in Nasakeeria?"

  "Yes. And no. She knows Dragonkind, but these people are different. Yet their manner of speech sounds like that of Dragonkind, except that it is an very old way of speaking, not like the Dragonkind that she knows of."

  "What does that mean?"

  "I don't know. I don't think she does, either. She does not herself understand. It agitates her greatly. It is too much for her. But whoever they were, they saved her from the black eagle, and they took care of her, permitting her food and rest. There was one in particular that she keeps mentioning, in her way, showing her to me, but it is a strange vision. A woman. This woman, who is perhaps a sorceress, was the one who spoke with Certina. She and her companion, the hunter who felled the black eagle, were very tender toward Certina. The woman sang to Certina and put her to sleep. It was a deep and restful sleep, much needed. When Certina awoke, she was released."

  "Nasakeeria," Robby whispered, as if even speaking the name of the place would evoke some mortal event. "I thought none who entered there could depart alive."

  "So did I," shrugged Ashlord. "I have seen the bones surrounding that land, and it is not an inviting sight. But here is a fearful thought, an anxiety that will not leave me: I'm afraid Certina may have unwittingly given up her messages. While she was asleep."

  "So you think they know? About me?"

  "I veiled my message enough so that I could be sure that only Raynor could understand the full import. Still, if Certina was enchanted, coaxed to reveal her true nature and the messages she carried, Nasakeeria may know something of our quest and even something about where we are."

  "Do you think Certina was followed from Nasakeeria?"

  "Perhaps. But they need not follow her to know she was bound for this region. And if, along with that, they picked up enough to know that we head west, they can easily surmise our track."

  "What should we do? Change our course?"

  "I do not think that would be wise. It will be difficult enough as it is, and we may well be forced aside by any number of obstacles that we cannot foresee. No. We should continue on as planned. But we should be ever the more cautious."

  Robby shook his head.

  "I have the strangest feeling, nearly all the time these days, that all of this is happening around me, not to me. That I have no control and am being swept along like some kind of leaf in the wind. Part of me is calm, but another part of me is in a kind of deep panic, not knowing what to do or how to do it."

  Robby and Ashlord were so close that they were brushing shoulders, and he knew that Ashlord was listening carefully to him.

  "It's like being a baby, left to mind the store all on my own. People coming and going, asking for things that I don't know about. Wanting things from the store, but I don't know where the right shelf is, or else I'm too small to reach it, or how to count the money or make the books right. I feel something akin to what Millithorpe must have felt when he was put in charge of the Hoard those years ago."

  "You will know what to do when the time comes," Ashlord said soothingly.

  "How do you know?"

  "I have faith. Do you think your abilities are limited only to what can be seen with the eyes or felt with the
hands? No, the gifts you possess go beyond the opening of trick boxes and doors and the picking of locks with ease. Those are only the crudest signs of your power. Perhaps with age and experience you will come to a fuller understanding of what I mean. Queen Serith Ellyn and her brother Thurdun understood, and that is why they made a gift of Swyncraff to you. Others understand, too, as Lyrium does, for power such as yours may take many roads. And sometimes the refusal of power is the wisest way to gain it. It is as you did when you refused the ring and the sword that Lyrium offered."

  "But I gained nothing from it."

  "What you gained was freedom from those things, freedom to exert your power in other ways. And you gained Lyrium's respect and friendship, too, and even her loyalty. That ring. That sword. Such things are hard to refuse when they are craved, and the evil that may come of possessing such power is profound and subtle. Once gained, it is the rare person who may willingly shed such things."

  "But I have no choice in so many of these things. I cannot undo my birth, or who my parents are, or any of these things that have happened."

  "No. But you do have some choice. It is who you are. Just as the rest of us, it is made into our flesh and into our breath to have choice. Since you live now, and not in the past, you have no choice but to accept the past. But bear in mind that every moment of the past was, at some prior time, the future. It is like a fabric, being ever worked upon the loom, and each of us is a thread in that fabric. Those of us alive are still being woven into it, until our coil runs out. All is connected. The choices you make not only affect your own self as well as those around you, but also the texture and the shape of the fabric itself."

  "Time," Robby sighed. "Another thing I haven't enough of. I do not know how to become King. And, even if I did, I do not know how to rule. We go to Griferis, if we find it, so that I might learn quickly. But will there be time, once there, to change the things that need changing before spring comes?"

  "No doubt you will be tested, Robby. Tempted and tried. It has already begun. That is why we go to Griferis. If you survive, you will know what to do. If you do not, or if you fail in this quest, many other things will fail, too, and the warp of time will set a new pattern nonetheless. I see no other way but to try. But it is not up to me."

 

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