by CJ Arroway
‘We’ll think of something,’ Evie replied, though she wasn’t sure now why they were even running.
Aldrwyn turned again down a short passageway that she could see would take him back towards the tavern he’d just left. Evie gestured to Luda. ‘I don’t think he knows where he’s going – we’ve just been down here.’
‘Hang on,’ Luda said looking up and around, ‘I’ll meet you at the bridge as soon as I can. Just go with Aldrwyn and make sure he does what I say.’
Evie threw him a puzzled look.
‘You’re not the only one who can do tricks,’ Luda smiled.
Without breaking stride, Luda took a running jump to grab hold of a large peg that held the frame of one of the wooden buildings in place. He swung his legs up to catch the overhanging mantle then disappeared quickly over the sloping half-roof.
Evie had caught up with Aldrwyn now and they were looking for a way they might lose their pursuers, but every possible exit was also a potential dead-end and they couldn’t risk going too far off the straighter streets that kept them in view. Worse, their pursuers’ constant cries of ‘stop thief’ were bringing others out onto the street, cutting down their options further.
The street was wider at ground level, with the buildings protruding out as they got higher, until the roofs of many buildings almost touched and it looked as though they propped each other up, and that if one went the whole street would collapse.
Luda quickly reached the highest point of the rooftops and jumped the narrow gap from one side of an alleyway to the other, then across the roofs and another jump, until he was waiting above the street level a little way in front of Aldrwyn and Evie.
‘Aldrwyn – go left, just past the water trough,’ Luda called from one of the smaller buildings, a weaver’s house with a wide windowsill, on which he now crouched just above the heads of his friends.
‘Uh?’ Aldrwyn grunted, looking about him.
‘It’s Luda – do as he says,’ Evie commanded.
Aldrwyn and Evie turned sharply left as Luda had instructed. The passageway was so narrow that even running single file they still clipped and bounced off its walls. The chasing group had seen them and followed, but their size slowed them down a little, giving welcome distance between them.
A scuttle overhead and Luda reappeared, this time supporting his foot on a cross peg as he hung half way down the wall of a small house that seemed to have no front door.
‘Aldrwyn – quickly, give me the purse. Give it – then take the next right.’ He held his free hand out, flicking his fingers in a gesture of urgency.
Aldrwyn let out a gurgle of protest, but before he could act Evie had snatched the purse from his hand and thrown it to Luda, pushing Aldrwyn forward in the process as they disappeared down the next alley.
‘Damn you Aldrwyn. Why am I doing this?’ Luda said aloud to himself, then – with all the force he could manage against his own body’s protest – slammed his face into the wooden beam he was holding on to and fell to the floor.
‘You, boy. You were with him!’ The stocky man, who had now caught up, was doubled over to catch his breath – one hand on his knee the other pointing to Luda, who was lying in the dirt of the road with blood running from both nostrils and a bar of red rising up on the left side of his face.
‘I was trying to catch him, sir. I saw him take your purse. I got hold of the little toerag though, but he did this.’ Luda pointed forlornly to his bloody face. ‘He might be a little runt, but he’s stronger than he looks.’
The man, now backed up by his red-faced companions, looked uncertain.
‘I did manage to grab this though, sir,’ Luda said, holding out the purse. ‘Sorry I couldn’t hold him for you.’
‘Did you see which way he went, son?’ a tall, skinny man with a face like a whippet asked, leaning over to help pick Luda up.
‘Straight on sir, then I saw him go left by the fish stall.’ Luda dusted down his trousers before dabbing his nose and checking his hand for blood.
The man thanked Luda and the group broke into a jog much less urgent than their earlier pursuit. The stocky man stopped briefly to look back at Luda, then reached into his purse and pulled out a silver penny.
‘For your trouble – thank you,’ the man said, tossing the coin to Luda.
‘Oh no, thank you sir,’ Luda said, beaming.
* * *
‘That was brilliant Luda,’ Evie said. He’d caught up with them at the footbridge where Aldrwyn was staring glumly into the river and Evie was beaming a broader smile than he’d seen since the last morning in the forest. ‘But your poor face…’ She used her sleeve to dab away a crust of semi-dried blood that had gathered above Luda’s swollen upper lip.
‘You owe me, Aldrwyn,’ Luda lisped, jabbing an accusatory finger at his guilty companion. He turned back to Evie. ‘I told you I knew some tricks. That’s what you learn when your master owns a high barn but can’t afford a new roof.’
‘Yes – you were very good,’ Aldrwyn drawled grudgingly. ‘I think the contents of the purse you took off me should cover my debt though.’
‘You’ll look like this if you’re not careful,’ Luda said, pointing to his bruised face. ‘It took some persuasion for them to believe you did this to me. I told them “oh I know he looks like a runt – weak, sickly. Ugly – really ugly too. Looks like he couldn’t punch his way out of an eggshell”–’
‘Yeah yeah, funny, ha ha,’ Aldrwyn grunted, still sore at losing his day’s haul, but genuinely grateful to be safely out of reach of a noose. For now.
‘So what’s your plan now?’ Evie asked him. ‘No more stealing I hope – I’ve seen you do it twice and get caught both times. Maybe you need another line of work.’
Aldrwyn winced. ‘I’ll need to leave here. For a while at least. It’s been an unproductive stay anyway and I think a few people might recognise me now.’
‘Where will you go? Back home?’
‘No,’ Aldrwyn said, looking up and around him as if weighing up a dozen options. ‘I know some people out west – in the mountains. I’ll stay there for a while. They’re magic kin like us, you’d like them.’
Evie looked intrigued. ‘The Western Mountains. I thought they were all wild up there, isn’t it dangerous?’
‘Well they’re wild if you’re a Home soldier – but then why wouldn’t they be if you keep trying to take their cattle and land. They are good friends. You should visit one day – especially if you’ve still got all those questions about magic. Nan knows everything there is to know about it – you’d get on, she loves being asked about it.’
‘Who’s Nan?’ Luda asked, still dabbing at his nose.
‘Nan Tabyn – she’s in charge there. Lovely woman, we get on famously. I think she sees me like the son she never had.’
‘She always wanted an incompetent thief for a son?’ Luda sniffed.
‘It sounds like a great place,’ Evie said, with a sideways glare at Luda. ‘Hopefully once everything’s back to normal we can come and see you there. If you hang around there I mean.’
While they’d been talking Luda had been increasingly distracted by a low rumble that seemed to be coming from the east side of the city and was now growing into what sounded like some sort of disturbance in the streets.
The others now noticed it too. ‘What’s that?’ Aldrwyn twitched nervously.
‘I don’t think that’s about you,’ Evie said. ‘That’s a lot of people, something is happening.’ Suddenly her face lit up. ‘Rachlaw must be back - come on!’ Evie jumped up and pulled at Luda’s arm. Aldrwyn shrugged and followed – still nervous the men from the tavern might spot him if he stayed on the streets alone.
Well before they reached the east gate, where a crowd was gathered, it was clear something was badly wrong. Men and women were wandering towards them, many in tears and others frantically shaking their heads or sat on their haunches by the roadside. Evie felt her heart sink down through her body until it was almost bur
ied in the dirt of the city road.
She stopped a man who was biting at his thumbnail aggressively and pacing around as though in deep thought.
‘What’s happened?’ She put her hand to the man’s arm to steady his constant turning.
‘The King’s Men,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘Slaughtered – all of them. All those men…all of them. My boy…’ He started to cry until his voice shook so hard Evie could no longer make out his words.
Evie stood frozen for a second, unable to process what she heard. It made no sense. Rachlaw was the only hope she had of finding her. He couldn’t be dead. Did this mean her mother was too?
No time to guess – do something, don’t think about that. She gathered herself and called Luda towards her.
‘I need to get a message to Rachlaw. If he’s alive. It’s the only chance. We can’t stay here,’ she said, instructing herself as much as her friends.
A senior officer of the City Guard was trying to calm a group of women who were screaming and crying for news of their husbands and sons, and Evie grabbed his arm as he moved them on towards the temple entrance.
‘I can’t help you love, you’ll need to follow those other ladies – you’ll be taken care of there,’ he said without looking down.
‘I need you to give a message to Rachlaw – it’s essential,’ Evie begged, pulling harder at his arm.
The man turned to look at her. ‘You’re Daw aren’t you? You’ll need to get out of the city – things will turn ugly. We won’t be able to protect you. I’d go home now and pack any bags.’
Evie reached both hands into her thick hair and pulled at the ragged strip of cloth she used to tie it back, unfurling it and handing it to the guard. ‘Here – this is Rachlaw’s. He said to show this if I needed help.’
The guard looked down at the worn, threadbare strip. It was old, but still clearly very fine cloth. It was too fine for a Daw girl and embroidered in deep red and yellow thread with the lion symbol of Rachlaw – the ‘funny little dog’ he’d given her years before, to guard her when he wasn’t there.
The guard was silent for a second, looking her up and down intently. ‘What’s your name girl?’ he demanded.
‘Tell him it’s Evie. He’ll know. Tell him I’ve gone west to…to…’ she looked at Aldrwyn, who took a second to understand then mouthed ‘The Cyl’.
‘Tell him I’ve gone west to The Cyl. He can find me there. Please don’t forget – he would want you to tell him. It’s very important to him.’
‘The Cyl?’ the man said in surprise. ‘Ok. Look, I need to get back to taking care of this… situation. I’ll tell him, I promise. Now get out of the city as fast as you can.’
Evie nodded. ‘Keep the cloth,’ she said. ‘To show him.’
The man looked back at her sympathetically. ‘You should know, he’s probably–.’
‘I know,’ Evie said. ‘Keep the cloth.’
The Mountain
Once you leave the bounds of Wyrra city, through the marshes of the western bank, it is just a few hours’ travel before you see the first sign of the mountains. As the land rises up from the Wyrran Plain, if the air is cold and clear, you may be able to make out the high peaks that crenulate the horizon exactly where the sun sets; its rays picking out their ridges as ripples on the rim of the earth.
It’s never quite clear when and where you enter the land of the Cyl, but you know when you have left the land of The People. Between the two is a neither place where the Borderers live. Here the laws of Cyl or People are applied, or disregarded, depending on the whims of its petty kings and warlords, whose allegiances are as unfixed and ephemeral as the boundaries of their lands.
Aldrwyn had played his pretty music again at a tavern outside the market town of Manoth. Evie and Luda protested, but with less insistence than they had before they found themselves hungry, wet and cold on an unmarked road to who-knows-where.
The town’s monthly sheep fair meant pockets were full of silver and bellies were full of ale, and Aldrwyn had more luck on this particular fishing trip than he’d shown his friends before.
The money opened a path through the Borders for them, and they kept enough back to pay for what meagre rations they could bargain from the scattered farms they found along the way.
The farms became fewer and further between as the land began to rise up, gently at first and then, before she saw it, Evie’s legs told her that the angle of the climb was sharpening and they were starting into the high mountains.
From a first view, the Western Mountains look empty. They rise up from the pastures of the valley floors, the land ascending in fading gradients of deep green, through brown and yellow, to grey, and finally black. On a wet day – which Evie and Luda now assumed was every day here – the peaks would be hidden by low cloud, with only the highest point of Farn mountain occasionally breaking through, like a great fin swimming through the foam of a floating ocean. But in the mountains there is a world. The first high chain of ridges is the Wall of the Cyl. From behind its natural defences they keep their lands safe from the greedy view of The People. It was to here that the Cyl were driven when The People first came to The Home – before that place became the Lost Lands – and it was here that The People were stopped.
Behind the wall, the land is a rise-and-fall of high mountains, deep valleys and a wide plateau on which the Cyl graze their cattle. Here Brya – a gathering of semi-permanent huts around a long, low stone hall – stands as the closest thing the land has to a centre. And it was to this centre they were now heading.
‘You do know we’re being watched don’t you?’ Evie stopped and caught her breath as she scanned the higher ridges above the sheep track they were climbing. ‘I hope those are your friends up there.’
‘Don’t worry,’ Aldrwyn reassured her cheerily, ‘they know me.’
‘Not too well I hope, or we’re all in trouble.’ Luda pushed on again up the track, then turned back to Aldrwyn. ‘You haven’t nicked anything off them recently have you?’
Aldrwyn didn’t respond. The path was getting steeper, and his faltering attempts to hide his frustration at cresting yet another false summit were starting to make Evie think he may not know the land quite as well as he had made out.
He picked up his pace to step past Luda on the narrow path, blowing out his cheeks in the effort.
‘I promise, this next top here – that is the real one. Once we’re over you’ll see the plateau, and the road to Brya is all downhill from there. We’ll stroll in and have our feet up by the fire, eating… crap!’
Aldrwyn had kept his face firmly down as he puffed up the steep incline and crested the ridge. He had almost walked headfirst straight into the leather chestplate of a stern, broad-shouldered man carrying a spear even taller than he was himself.
Four more men stood beside him, similarly armed and carrying long, narrow-waisted shields fastened with blue-painted rods that ran their whole length, anchored in a crude metal boss at the centre.
Another two men had now appeared from nowhere to stand behind them, raising their spears to ensure the three intruders were going nowhere.
‘Um, are these your friends Aldrwyn?’ Luda hissed quietly.
‘Hi!’ Aldrwyn grinned and held his arm close to his side to give what Evie thought, in the circumstances, might be an inappropriately dainty wave. ‘We’re here to see Nan Tabyn. She kind of knows me.’
* * *
Aldrwyn had been right. It was the top of the hill and the road was all downhill from there. But there was no seat by the fire waiting for them. Instead of strolling in, they had been marched and prodded at spear point down the steep incline, and pushed firmly through the entrance of the low stone building.
Inside, the room was dark. The tiny windows, set into the thick stone walls, were overhung outside with dense thatch that kept out most of the meagre light they might have allowed through. Torches on the walls flickered and smoked, flashing fragments of the faces of the dozen or more assembled C
yl in and out of view. The air was thick with the smell of wood resin and animal oils, and, Evie thought, no one looked particularly happy to see their old friend.
From the dark end of the room a figure slowly stood up from a roughly-made and solid wooden chair to walk towards them. As they got closer, the flames from the central hearth lit up their face to reveal the weather-worn skin and striking high cheekbones of a woman Evie assumed, from the silence of the room, must be Nan Tabyn.
‘Aldrwyn,’ she said slowly, almost as a question. She looked him up and down, measuring him. ‘Well, I didn’t think we’d be seeing you again.’
‘Oh no,’ Luda groaned, glaring in Aldrwyn’s direction. ‘You did steal something, you little–’
‘No,’ the woman addressed Luda without taking her eyes off Aldrwyn. ‘He didn’t steal something. That’s the problem. Who are these two?’
‘These are my friends, Nan.’ Aldrwyn threw a nervous smile at Evie, who shook her head. ‘They aren’t to blame for whatever I’ve done.’ He looked around at the faces in the shadows of the room, as if hoping someone would let him know which particular thing he’d done she was talking about.
‘You’re friends of Aldrwyn, then?’ Nan Tabyn now turned to Luda and Evie. ‘Well if you’re friends with him you can’t have known him very long.’
Nan pushed a bony finger under his nose so that he had to arch his head back sharply. ‘Where is our scroll, Aldrwyn? We paid you well for that.’
‘It’s not my fault,’ Aldrwyn blurted. ‘I did what you asked but there was this girl. She seemed really nice. You can’t trust anyone these days.’
Nan saw the quizzical look on Evie’s face. ‘Do you want to tell your friends what happened Aldrwyn? Tell us too, maybe?’
Aldrwyn flushed, forcing a smile that showed his crowded teeth.
‘I’ll tell them then,’ Nan said, stepping back suddenly with an accusatory jab of her finger at Aldrwyn’s face, still fixed in a helpless grin.
‘This one here was hired for an important job. The library at Highweld has a collection of ancient scrolls, most of which were stolen from us by The People when they stole our lands. Why they have them, when almost none of those pigs can read, I don’t know. He was meant to retrieve one of the scrolls for us. A particularly old and particularly valuable one. Well, he got his payment from us but we have yet to see the scroll. I’m sure he spent the money badly, but debts must be repaid.’
