Raven Flight (12 page)

No going back. We sprinted forward to the place where the defile broadened and the Rush valley opened out again. I still couldn’t see anyone on the road ahead, but Tali led me at a run onto the open ground that lay between track and river. Here, the remnants of old drystone walls ran across barren terrain dotted by coarse grasses and the odd scrubby bush. A few goats grazed on the sparse pickings. The only farmhouse was at some distance, on the eastern side of the track.

“Quick!” Tali glanced back over her shoulder, toward the road. Ahead was a stretch of wall less broken than the rest. “Come on, Neryn!”

We reached the wall; dived down behind it, lying flat on the hard ground with our packs beside us.

“Don’t move,” Tali muttered. “Don’t make a sound.”

The wait felt endless. My throat was dry; dust went up my nose and I had to force down a sneeze. My body ached with cramps. But Tali had trained me well, in both endurance and strength. I held still. I kept quiet. And eventually, over the sound of the river, I heard hoofbeats on the road from Summerfort. I stayed flat, listening as they passed us and moved on into the defile. At least three riders, maybe more.

“Now,” breathed Tali. I rose to my feet, wincing as a cramp stabbed through my legs. Tali shouldered one bag; I grabbed the other. Dust was still rising from the riders’ passage as the two of us headed toward the river, keeping low. The ground was uneven. My foot went into a sudden hole and I almost twisted my ankle. My breath was coming hard; my chest hurt. “Here,” Tali muttered, reaching for my hand. “Up ahead, those trees. Keep your head down.”

We reached the trees. Only then did I see that the natural contour of the land in this spot provided a hiding place. The riverbank was higher here, and between the alders was a sheltered hollow that would be invisible from the road. We threw the bags down and clambered after them. My heart was racing. If not for Tali’s canny eyesight, we’d still have been in the open when the king’s men came by.

“My guess is they’ll ride back down before long,” Tali said. “They were traveling too light to be headed over the pass. Must have some business at those farms. Just as well we weren’t caught higher up.”

“So we wait here until they go by again?” I tried to match her calm tone.

“Mm-hm.” She settled in a spot where she could see
over the riverbank to the road, which lay some two hundred strides away.

“What if they don’t? What if you’re wrong and they are headed over the pass?”

“Unlikely, in my judgment. Now tell me—this brollachan cave we’re headed for, can we get there straight along the riverbank? Pity we don’t have a boat.” She took her gaze off the road for a moment to look down at the river, a churning mass of gray water from one bank to the other.

“You’re joking.”

“It would certainly get us downstream fast. The problem might be stopping before we washed up at the river mouth in full view of the Summerfort sentries.”

As a joke, it was distinctly unamusing. “We can get most of the way along the bank,” I told her. “Right at the end, there’s a sort of stony hill on this side, and we have to climb that to reach Hollow’s cave and the bridge.”

“I think I remember the spot, though I never saw any bridge in this valley except the king’s bridge.”

“Brollachan Bridge is hidden by the hill. It’s only a log.”
Only
was hardly the right term for the monumental tree trunk that spanned the gap between rocky rise and cliff face. “I hope Hollow’s in a good mood today.”

“What’ll he do if he isn’t?”

“He likes games. The kind of games that could end up with someone falling a long way.”

Tali gave a slow smile. “We’ll see about that.”

“He’s a friend, Tali.”

“As I said.”

* * *

It was late afternoon before the three Enforcers rode back through the defile—long enough for my imagination to provide a picture of what might be happening in one or another of those lonely farmsteads. At a certain point in the afternoon, a column of smoke arose from the approximate direction of the farms. Neither Tali nor I made comment. We heard no screams, no sounds of weapons being drawn, no dogs barking. But maybe we were too far away for that. The smoke was thinning by the time the king’s men came riding by, the silver on their bridles glinting in the sunlight, their horses uniformly tall and black. The men’s faces were concealed by their Enforcer masks, dark cloths wrapped over nose, mouth, and chin. None of them was Flint. I would have known him instantly, mask or no mask.

As soon as they were out of sight, we moved on. We followed the east bank of the Rush, staying in whatever cover we could find, but there was nobody on the road now, and nothing stirred in the valley save birds passing high above us and a goat or two in the fields. I had no sense of Good Folk anywhere nearby. Perhaps Tali’s weapons were keeping them away.

We reached Hollow’s hill not long before dusk. Tali was edgy. I had asked her to wrap and stow her weapons when the hill came into view and she had complied without a word. Now her hand kept moving to her belt, reaching for a knife that was not there. The hill loomed dark under a sky now thick with clouds; it would rain tonight. Hollow’s hearth fire would be welcome.

“He might jump out and yell,” I warned Tali. “Keep your weapons wrapped up. He knows I’m a friend. It will be all right once he sees me.”

“As long as he recognizes you before he rips our heads off, fine with me.”

“I’ll go first.” I climbed the narrow path between the rocks, using my staff to help me balance. The light was fading fast. At every step I anticipated a great shout from above, for when I had dared set foot on his bridge the first time, Hollow had hurled a fearsome challenge. I found I was holding my breath, waiting for the moment when his booming voice would ring from the rocky hillock.

We climbed and climbed, and there was nothing. Only the moon low over the horizon, and a high-pitched sound as something flew overhead. Now we must be almost level with the cliff path on the far side of the river, where Sorrel had died and Sage had held off two Enforcers to allow my escape. And still the place was quiet. Could it be that Hollow only guarded the front door, not the back?

We reached the end of the path. A shadowy passageway led straight into the hill. No sign of the brollachan. I could see no light from within Hollow’s lair, neither the warm glow of a lantern nor the flicker of a hearth fire.

“Call him,” Tali whispered.

No need for a canny call here, only the kind a traveler might make at a friend’s doorway. “Hollow, are you there? It’s Neryn.”

Nothing. I tried again. “Hollow! It’s Neryn, Sage’s friend. You helped me last autumn when I was in trouble. I’m here with another woman. May we come in?”

Silence. I looked at Tali; Tali looked at me. Soon it would be too dark to move around safely on these rocks. Besides, there was nowhere else to shelter.

“Don’t tell me,” she said, taking off her pack and setting it on the ground so she could rummage inside. “Make fire without using a knife, light a candle, then walk into some creature’s lair with only my bare fists to defend both of us. Yes?”

“Use your knife. But wrap it up again as soon as the candle’s burning. He can’t be gone. Guarding the bridge is his mission, his solemn trust. He’d have come with me and protected me on the journey if not for that.”

“Really?” Tali was working efficiently with flint and knife; she had a supply of compressed tinder in her bag, and a beeswax candle in a holder. “So where is he?”

“Maybe asleep. Or on the bridge. I don’t know.”

She said nothing more until the candle was alight and her materials were stowed in the pack again. “Neryn, this could be a trap.” She was keeping her voice to a murmur. “There could be anyone in there. The two of us, with no proper weapons at hand, wandering along a narrow tunnel with a nice little light to warn folk we’re coming—that’s asking for trouble. If your friend were here, surely he would have come out by now.”

“We must go in. Maybe he’s sick or hurt.”

“We’d be better off finding a place to shelter among these rocks, and having another look in the morning.”

“If it’s some kind of ambush, whoever it is will have heard us by now. So your suggestion doesn’t make much
sense. We need to go in. If Hollow isn’t there, we can at least make a proper fire and sleep under cover.”

As if in answer, rain began to fall in pattering drops. Tali put up her hand to shield the candle. “Black Crow’s curse! All right, but you carry the candle. I want my staff ready.”

There was no ambush. We made our way cautiously through a network of dark tunnels, guessing at the right direction. Our candle was the only light. It felt a long way. It felt much farther than I had walked last time I was here, when Hollow had bid me farewell at the back door.

“Hope you’re right about this,” Tali murmured. As she spoke, I felt a movement of the air suggested the narrow tunnel was opening out. We stepped forward and into Hollow’s cave.

“This is it,” I breathed.

The fire on the broad hearth was a pile of whispering ashes. Above it the roof arched high; shadows moved oddly in the candlelight.

“There are bones everywhere.” Tali’s voice was hushed. “Hundreds of bones.”

“He collects them.” I set down my bag and staff. “We may as well make a fire; there’s a woodpile over there. We should save the candle.” Where was Hollow? Surely he wouldn’t leave the bridge. Had the Enforcers been here? Had I been wrong about the brollachan’s ability to withstand cold iron?

Tali set her belongings down and fetched an armful of firewood. I stirred the ash heap with a long stick.

“Tali!”

She was by my side in a moment.

“There are glowing embers here. He hasn’t been gone long.”

She made no comment, simply went about getting the fire burning again with the efficiency she turned to every task. I took out some provisions and set them on one of the flat stones that furnished Hollow’s lair.

Tali started suddenly. “What was that?”

I listened, and for a while heard nothing. Then it came, a thready whimpering from somewhere in the dark recesses of the cavern.

“Give me the candle.” I moved cautiously in the direction of the sound, taking care not to trip on the bones, which were not in a tidy arrangement as Hollow liked them, but scattered here and there on the ground.

Over by the wall was a pile of old sacks, and from deep within, a pair of frightened eyes peered out. I released my breath and knelt down, not too close, for I knew from experience how hard the pookie could bite. “It’s his friend,” I told Tali, feeling suddenly cold. “Something bad must have happened. Hollow wouldn’t go off and leave the pookie on its own.”

As if it understood, the catlike creature began a mournful wailing, but when I tried to coax it out, it hissed and retreated farther into the sacks.

“Food,” I said. “Cheese, in particular. And it likes to be warm, so let’s build up the fire.”

Tali was doing so even as I spoke. “What in the name of the gods is a pookie?” she asked.

“I’d never heard of one until I came here. It’s Hollow’s only companion.”

It took me a while to get the little creature out, even with morsels of cheese as a lure. Eventually it crept toward the fire and settled itself on my folded cloak, shivering. The embers suggested Hollow had been gone less than a day; the pookie was not starving, though once it was out, it ate as if it hadn’t seen a meal since my last visit in autumn.

Tali settled herself out of biting range, watching the creature as we ate our own meager supper. There had been no hunting or trapping today, and we needed to make our provisions last. “Can we get over this bridge without the brollachan?” she asked after a while. There was no need for her to spell it out: with Enforcers active in the valley, it was doubly important for us to avoid the king’s bridge. And Brollachan Bridge was the only other way.

“We could.” I glanced at the pookie, which had sidled closer and was curled up against my leg. “It’s a matter of keeping your balance and not looking down. Once we’re over, there’s a small settlement to pass through, then a track that leads to the woods above Deepwater. Last autumn the king had sentries along the hill on this side, and the local people were in the habit of telling them when strangers passed through.”

“Hmm. Well, this place is good shelter. I never knew about this bridge, and I’ve been up and down the valley more times than I can count.”

“People don’t talk about it. If you ask them, they either tell you there is no bridge, or they say whoever attempts
to cross ends up being washed down the river, stone dead. That would be Hollow’s doing.”

“But he let you across.”

“After testing me, yes. Hollow is old and strong. I can’t think what has happened to him.”

“There’s nothing we can do about it,” Tali said, “so let’s get some sleep. We’ll move on in the morning. And, before you ask, we’re not taking that creature with us. If I wanted another traveling companion, it wouldn’t be one with a shrill voice and a bottomless stomach.”

Morning came, and still Hollow had not returned. We packed up in silence while the pookie perched on the rocks, staring at us. It was an odd-looking creature, a little like a cat, but with a hairless tail and enormous ears. Perhaps I was imagining the look of reproach in those gleaming eyes.

“What about the fire?”

“I’ll bank it up; it’ll keep the cave warm for today, at least. Maybe he’ll be back soon.” I hoped the pookie could find food in these underground ways or on the hillside beyond. It felt entirely wrong to leave it on its own. What if Hollow never came back?

“Don’t even think of it,” Tali said over her shoulder. How she knew what was in my mind was a mystery. “The creature is a burden we can’t afford. We must go swiftly and quietly. We’ve lost half a day already. I want to be in the safety of those woods before there’s too much movement on the road. Where’s this bridge?”

I dealt with the fire, then led her out through the
passageway to the west. The bridge was a single log of immense length, set high above the Rush. At the far end it rested on a ledge partway down the cliff face. A precarious path led from there to the high track toward Deepwater. It was barely dawn; I hoped it was too early for sentries.