The Forgotten War (188 page)

Some weeks later and twilight was fast approaching on the lake. In Cygan’s house, his wife and children were busying themselves with the evening meal. Cygan himself had
taken the opportunity to sit on the platform outside the house over the lake, a place where peace reigned as he looked at the vast sky of ever-deepening blue where the fitful stars were only just
beginning to show themselves.

A goat bleated on the island behind him – maybe it was chewing on a thistle - and then he heard the footsteps on the grass he had been waiting for.

‘Hello, Barris,’ he said. ‘Care to join me for some evil brew?’

Whitey sat down next to him, taking the proffered flask and gulping its contents. Overhead, he heard the unmistakeable heavy wing beats of a couple of swans, and sure enough a second later they
swooped low overhead before alighting softly on to the lake’s surface,

‘You know.’ he answered the Marsh Man, ‘I did worry that Emterevuanu might have been a simpering do-as-she-is-told type of a girl, but now she nags me more than you do. And she
learns my tongue so quickly that soon I will understand what she is saying.’ He took another drink.

‘Marsh women do not simper,’ Cygan assured him. ‘And now she has her fish hooks into you. You are doomed, my friend, as am I. How are you finding the house?’

‘Good,’ said Whitey. ‘Warm and comfortable; she organises it well for one so young. Did you expect us to be neighbours?’

‘I am not surprised. I think the elder arranged it for us; still, the island needed an extra family, we have lost so many people.’

‘Fair enough. One thing bothers me, though ... well, two things if you count all these insects.’

‘I told you before,’ Cygan started to reply. ‘You take the bark of...’

‘Yes, yes, I know all about the precious bark. The choice is being covered in itching red lumps or smearing your body with something that smells like it has been passed by a goat.’
Whitey took another drink.

‘You get used to it; some of the women here find it attractive.’

‘Then I recommend they wash their face in a cowpat, which brings me to the other problem I have here.’

Cygan tried not to smile. ‘And what else disgruntles you?’

‘Tits,’ said Whitey.

Then Cygan had to laugh; he tried drinking but choked badly. Slowly, as Whitey waited patiently, he regained his composure. ‘I am sorry but did you say...’

‘Tits,’ said Whitey again. ‘I knew in warm weather the men here wore no shirts but I did not expect the women to do the same.’

‘Why not? They get warm, too, you know.’

‘Yes, but I don’t know where to look. Your wife was talking to me the other day; practising my language, she said. I didn’t know where to look.’

Cygan kept smiling. ‘I would know.’

‘But she is your wife!’

‘I know, all women have them, you know. I have seen Emterevuanu’s often enough. I really would try and get used to it.’

Whitey groaned. ‘I tried to get her to cover up...’

‘And?’

‘She ignored me.’

‘Wise girl.’

Cygan the stoic Marsh Man kept sniggering. Whitey took in the fresh breeze, the smell of grass and pond flowers and decided to talk about something else.

‘I also heard a rumour,’ Whitey continued, ‘for I am learning your tongue little by little, that the Elder will be admitting you to his Circle of Wise Men. I had no idea this
tribe was so desperate.’

Cygan was still grinning. ‘You are probably right there, but have you heard the rest of the rumour? That my role as translator at the trading posts will be taken over by some sly,
conniving petty thief who knows all the tricks that the Taneren like to play on us?’

‘I have heard.’ Whitey chuckled in return. ‘Nothing will get past me, don’t you fear; besides, you need to stay at home a little more what with your growing
family.’

It was Cygan’s turn to take a drink. ‘What you really mean is that I should not be travelling, what with the headaches I get now and then.’

Whitey nodded, watching a fish rise out of the water, before a group of swallows dipped gently, barely clearing the surface as they picked off the insects the fish did not get.

‘When I was a child,’ Cygan said, ‘I watched a family build one of the houses across the lake. They had cut the great wooden posts to be driven as piles into the water. As they
were putting one into position, it snapped free of its rope and the post came loose, hitting a man on the side of his head. He collapsed instantly but seemed to recover. Afterwards, though, he
would be afflicted with these great headaches that could cripple him for days. But then, once they were gone, he would appear to be fine. I don’t know how long this went on for, possibly
years – though you know how slowly time passes when you are a child. But then one morning his wife saw him in his hammock. He had died overnight with blood running from his ears and nose. I
fear that such a thing will happen to me, though I suppose dying while asleep is no bad thing.’

Whitey stroked his chin trying to look thoughtful. ‘You may be right, but let’s be honest. None of us know how long we have left. You cheated the rope but once. I cheated it a
hundred times and every time I did I thought to myself that my luck would run out soon – that the next time I would swing. And so far it has not happened, though like as not now I will be
bitten to death by mosquitos first, shit, smelling bark or no.’

‘You are right, Barris, you are right. I wish to see my son named this summer, and then my daughter and maybe, just maybe after that I will be fortunate enough to see the same for my third
child. We cannot live our life expecting death at every juncture, for if we do that then we are not truly living at all.’

Night started to close in. Over the lake Whitey saw a pair of grebes swimming in their graceful way before one, then the other, dived under the surface, on the hunt for a nice fat fish. He had
seen the same pair earlier that day; it was spring and they were dancing, aping one other’s movements, as they craned their necks over their bodies before skipping over the surface, wings
outstretched, forming a bond that would never be broken. Sketta was close to the river but in his entire life he had never seen anything like that happen there.

‘You know,’ Whitey said finally, ‘this place may have no inns or gambling houses; there may be little to do apart from hunt, or repair the home, or listen to your barmy
religious services, but then, sitting here as we are, you suddenly realise that this place can be incredibly beautiful. It has one thing I never thought I would find – peace.’

‘Emterevuanu has mellowed you, I see, but you are right. This place, I have seen it almost every day, and yes, you do forget. Sometimes it takes a stranger to remind you that it really can
be beautiful here.’

And quietly the two men continued to sit and drink, until, finally, the night came.

It was raining in Tanaren City. Heavy spring showers followed by bursts of dazzling sunshine. Around and about the city, people going about their business were forced to
shelter under the eaves of the closely packed houses, wrinkling their noses as the rain made pungent the smells of dust, wood smoke, manure of all kinds and unwashed dirty bodies. The rain toyed
playfully with the mighty Erskon, fancifully breaking its smooth dark surface as it rolled seaward, rather like a kindly great-uncle tolerates being tickled by a precocious five-year-old.

In his small but tidy room in the University of St Philig’s, Willem stood at the window watching the river below. In his hand was a letter, a lengthy affair in a scrawled but
familiar hand.

‘Well?’ Alys gently prodded him. She wore her hair loose these days, as Willem said he preferred it. ‘What does he say?’

‘That we have a new position. He has purchased my freedom from the monastery and would like us to join him in Felmere where he is setting up a new university. He then details all the
scrolls, books and other items he requires. He also mentions that he has written to three other professors, offering generous terms should they wish to teach up there. He sounds as though he is
close to being overcome with enthusiasm.’

She kissed his neck and put her arms around his waist. ‘Is the position for both of us?’

‘Of course. He also states that he has been handed the full translation of the words on the dragon’s tooth by the elves and we should bring the second tooth to him so that he can
translate it personally.’

‘How can we say no?’ said Alys. ‘We should return his money at any rate; thanks to the lady Ceriana’s generosity, we have funds enough to pay the monastery ourselves and
get married. We could marry in Felmere; I am sure Cedric would love to see that.’

Willem turned to face her. ‘Then it should be done quickly. Cedric says that, once the university is established, his health will force him to retire. He is to go to the Isle of Healing,
where he will live out the rest of his days.’

‘Poor Cedric,’ said Alys. ‘It cannot be easy leaving all your friends behind like that.’

‘No. We have much to organise. I would like to get there before summer ends.’

Alys laughed. ‘Then we have plenty of time! You and your flair for the dramatic!’

Willem looked hesitant. ‘Alys, there is something I must ask you. I have to ask partly because we are partners in everything and hold no secrets, and partly because it may mean spending
some of our newly acquired means on an enterprise which would give us no real material reward.’

Alys stopped smiling. ‘Go on.’

‘In New Perego I made a promise to myself, about buying the freedom of another unfortunate.’

‘A woman? In the same position as I was?’

‘Exactly.’

‘Is she young? Pretty?’

‘I didn’t really notice.’ Alys laughed at that. ‘Yes.’ he finally said. ‘She was kind; she spoke to me, even though she saw I was not interested in her
services. I would like to help her if I can.’

Alys’s smile returned. She kissed him. ‘Then, my patron of lost causes, you should do so; though, if you are to return to that place, take some well-armed men with you. Haelward has
gone east to the army and I somehow doubt he would want to chance his arm again.’

Willem sounded grateful. ‘Thank you, Alys, you are not jealous?’

‘I trust you, Willem. I would happily see you enter a room full of the most beautiful Tarindian courtesans and know that your eyes would only rest with me. I do, though, have a price for
my consent.’

‘And that is?’

‘Our bed. It looks depressingly tidy – what say you we ruffle it up a little?’

And so Willem moved to join her, even as a peal of thunder sounded over the river outside.

Cedric was feeling tired again. Tired but satisfied. His plans for the university were going well and in his hands he held a manuscript, Terath’s translation of the
writings on the dragon’s tooth. With him in the library was Astania. Dirthen had arrived in Felmere that very morning and was taking the opportunity to rest. He was irked by one thing though,
the Grand Duke’s secretary had rebuffed his request for the release of further artefacts to the elves, ‘they had still to be fully catalogued,’ he had said. Cedric decided to say
nothing of it at the present, given the company he was keeping.

‘The manuscript is a little smudged,’ he said, ‘but perfectly legible. I cannot tell you how excited I am to see this. I will get it copied immediately so you can take this
back home with you. It is just such a pity we could not help Dominic’s sister; if she had just held on a little longer, I believe her human qualities would have returned. Such a pity. And
now, Astania, you will be returning home, without Terath, alas. I would have loved to speak to him again but he died so that others might live.’

‘Yes,’ said Astania. ‘When the Lady Itheya gets here we will leave. Dirthen will be loremaster now, as he is the older of us two. And I will marry him in the summer, back in
Seyavanion.’

‘It will be good for you to see your own people again, and away from us humans, I imagine.’

‘Yes and no.’ Astania smiled. ‘I have learned much here and I believe we are put on to this Earth to learn. You are not the ogres that so many of us believe you to be; I will
tell others of this when I return.’

‘I will miss your healing,’ Cedric admitted. ‘But I will soldier on until I am too ill to be of use to anyone. Then I will take my last journey, to the Isle of
Healing.’

‘Fare you well, Cedric,’ she said, kissing him lightly on the forehead. ‘You are the best of your kind.’

Cedric blushed a little but the quiet moment was shattered as Mathilde burst into the room, her face flushed and her hands clenched. She obviously thought that the room was deserted, for she
started on seeing Cedric and hurriedly tried to compose herself.

‘My lady?’ Cedric enquired. ‘Shall we leave you?’

‘Yes ... I mean no.’ Too late, for Astania had already bowed and left the room, Cedric, not having her lithe grace, remained seated. ‘Morgan, the army and the elf girl have
returned.’

‘Surely that is something to celebrate, my Lady.’

‘Yes.’

‘Yet you seem perturbed.’

Mathilde’s agitation subsided a little and she sat down opposite the scholar.

‘It is politics, as ever. The Grand Duke wanted to remove Morgan and replace him with the oily Duneck. It was only when he saw the strength of feeling against this move that he relented.
When Kraven reaches his majority, Morgan is to be given Haslan Falls; in the meantime it will be managed by a cousin of Esric’s. There is a lot more but I have yet to take it all in
myself.’

‘And who will have Vinoyen?’

‘Pedern, Ulgar’s cousin, the logical choice.’

Cedric frowned. ‘Forgive me, my Lady, but I still do not understand your consternation.’

Mathilde sighed. ‘It is a personal matter.’

‘Then I will not enquire further.’

‘I suggested to Morgan that we marry.’ She blurted it out. ‘I did not receive a reply.’

‘A sensible suggestion,’ said Cedric. ‘It would legitimise him in the eyes of many, a marriage into a noble and illustrious family such as the Lasgaarts. Then you both have
connections to Felmere; I hardly think a sixteen-year-old Kraven can secure his position here unassisted.’