The Swans' War 1 - The One Kingdom (15 page)

THE MEN WHO HAD ATTACKED THEM SCRAMBLED OUT OF THE river and gave chase along the embankment, but were soon defeated by the forest. In half an hour they were lost to sight as they stood upon the shore watching their quarry carried to safety by the river. Cynddl had Fynnol remove his shirt and found beneath it a massive bruise, though the skin was only just broken in the center of the discoloration.” That's the last time, Tarn, I promise," Fynnol said, wincing.” I'll never wrestle with horses again, though I still think I'd have had the better of the beast had I not slipped." "You might well have cracked ribs," Cynddl said, "but nothing seems to be broken. Fortune smiled on you at that moment. You could easily have been trampled, and that's nothing to jest about." Baore leaned over the side and plunged his head into the river, emerging to whip his sopping hair back from his face, spraying everyone. He eyed their Fael companion.” Those were the men who murdered Alaan at Telanon Bridge," the big Valeman said. Cynddl shrugged, pulling items from a bag, searching for something.” You knew they'd be waiting," Tam said.” I didn't know, but Genn was concerned." Cynddl looked at Tam thoughtfully.” Who can say what those men are searching for? Something stolen and not recovered when they murdered this stranger you met? They might believe you're his accomplices." He glanced at Baore.” Even seen in the dark someone the size of Baore would be remembered." "They think we have whatever Alaan took from them?" "I can't tell you what they think. I can't even tell you with certainty that Alaan took something from them, but it seems a likely explanation." Cynddl produced a small leather pouch and began untying the string that closed it.” Alaan told us these men were unlike any we had ever met," Tam said.” 'Relentless in pursuit of their ends,' he warned us, and this would seem to be true. Let me tell you something more, Cynddl: Alaan visited the Vale once before. He came looking for someone or some people whom he seemed to believe might be hiding there. My grandfather thought it likely that Alaan's purpose was revenge. But someone found Alaan first."Cynddl gave up on the knot, looking up at Tarn.” You said nothing of this to Genn.""I didn't know this until after we returned to the Vale."Cynddl closed his eyes and pressed his fingers to them a moment. When he took his hands away he let out a long breath.” I wish you had known this before. If these men were trying to stop Alaan from carrying out some act of revenge, and they believe you are his allies in this ...""It explains why they were trying to murder us," Fynnol said, straining against the pain so that the words were pressed flat. He was bent over in the bottom of the boat, his face hidden from the others.” If they were looking for something that had been stolen they might have wanted us alive. There might have been a question or two ... they wanted answered.""And they have simply waited here for us?" Baore said. Water still streamed down his face and ran from his eyes.

"How in the world would they guess where we were going?" "Where else is there to go?" Cynddl said.” Here, at the ford, they can watch the river and the road. There's nowhere else to cross." He gestured to the north with the pouch.” These riders left the road and came by another, faster way. We saw their tracks turn into the forest, and there were more of them than we've just met. Some waited here, but I think others have gone on."Tam stared down at the sun wavering in the river.” Who are these men?"Cynddl shook his head.” I don't know. They bore no devices that I could see, though I hardly thought to look. Their surcoats were different. The riders wore black, the men on foot, purple. If it's some nobleman's livery I don't know it."In the ensuing silence Cynddl began to tug the arrows from their baggage. A wind hissed down the river, rippling the water and rustling leaves. Crows began calling madly from the trees.” Well, at least we're past these men now," Fynnol said, still hunched on the floorboards.” Doesn't the road go off in a great loop from here? Or is there another path through the woods that they might take?" "There are no paths but the road or the river," Cynddl said.” But we might not be free of them yet." He looked off down the river.” The party that turned into the woods near the Vale was larger than we saw at Willowwand. The main body likely went on from here days ago, toward the north bridge. I'm afraid we might meet them there—or some of them, at least." He paused, considering.” But at least these men we've just passed can't get to the bridge in time to warn their fellows. We'll have that to our advantage." Baore cursed under his breath.” And what'll we do when we come to the bridge?" Cynddl began to work again at the knot on his pouch.” We've only two choices. Abandon the river and your boat, or try to slip beneath the bridge at night." "So we shall either burn or boil," Fynnol grunted. Cynddl finally pulled the knot free and put the opened bag up to his nose, breathing in the aroma.” As soon as we think it safe we should get ashore for an hour," he said.” I need a fire so that I can make a poultice for Fynnol's wound." The river carried them on, the boat spinning slowly in the current. The weak light of the sun cast thin shadows along the river's edge and beneath the trees, where crows cried frantically. They went a long way before they dared to go ashore, and then the three who were unharmed took turns at the oars the rest of that day. The land seemed unnaturally quiet that afternoon, as though the birds and beasts were as apprehensive as the travelers. High overhead the veil of watery cloud was still drawn across the sky, leaving Tarn with the impression that he looked up toward the surface from beneath the sea.

The strange sadness of the land seemed to seep into Tarn's heart at times, and he would find himself feeling as though he had lost something of inestimable value. The urge to weep came over him at such times and he had to struggle against these feelings that were not his own.

"Where has summer gone?" Fynnol asked.

As though in answer Cynddl began to sing.

"As a leaf upon the wind With summer to mourn. As a boat upon the river You shall he borne.

"Though lands be harsh and summer cold You shall be safe upon her breast Carried on the moving stream Toward an endless rest."The song ended softly.

"It has the melody of a lullaby," Fynnol said, surprised.

Cynddl, who was at the oars, nodded.” Well, really it's a sad song put in the form of a lullaby. We don't sing children to sleep with it. In my language it's longer, of course, but that's all I can remember in your tongue. It came to me as we went, borne upon the water.""It's the sorrow of the place," Tam said.” It turns the mind toward such things. I find myself thinking of sad ballads and tragic stories." He shook his head, unable to say more, but the others nodded. For a while they rowed on in silence.

Tam was taking his turn to rest, Baore and Cynddl at the oars. At the ford he'd cut and bruised his feet, dashing them against stone, and the others had fared much the same, as they had all stored their boots away in an attempt to keep the leather dry. He looked down at the unnaturally white flesh, spotted with red scrapes and cuts, and his body seemed suddenly vulnerable. If stones could inflict such wounds, what would steel do? "I'm wondering," Cynddl said, interrupting Tarn's morbid thoughts.” The river seems very flat here. . . . Shouldn't we carry on by night; at least for a few hours? The moon will give us some light. If we're to pass the bridge it would be best if the men there had not been warned." "But I thought you said we'd reach the bridge before any rider from the ford?" Fynnol said. He found their map and spread it over the baggage, all his movements stiff and tentative. Cynddl and Baore shipped their oars and bent over the map with the others. Fynnol did a rough measurement of the distances. Cynddl had traveled the road and could guess how long it would take to ride. But none had traveled the river and their knowledge was incomplete.” There's some difficult water ahead yet." Baore ran a calloused finger along the course of the river.” We're still in the hills, really. This is only a plateau before we begin to drop again." Cynddl nodded.” Baore is right. The north bridge is quite a bit lower down than we are here. But it seems to me there should be some smooth water for a while. The plateau goes on for several leagues before it meets the hills again and begins its descent toward the lowlands. I think the risk would be small." Fynnol measured the distances to the bridge again.” Our path might be shorter but we're not traveling at the speed of a man on horse. The river's broad and lazy here. I think we should row on through at least a few hours of darkness." The others agreed, though Baore did so only reluctantly. They ate a cold meal in the boat, missing Cynddl's cooking. As Tam and Baore took their turn at the oars, the story finder produced a small flute and played as they went. At first he gave them tunes that were quick and cheerful, but they didn't seem to do much to lift the mood or push back the oppressive day. In the end he played a soft, sad air in a minor key, which he abandoned before its end, as though it brought back some memory. He sat with his gaze cast down to the passing river.

The sun sank into the gray haze, lighting it briefly from within, like a stain upon the sky, and then darkness settled. It was an exceptionally black night except for a faint, nebulous glow where the waning moon floated among the hidden stars. Between the trees, the river flowed like ink, and Tarn wondered if they'd chosen wisely to go on. How would they find a place to land their boat in this darkness? They might have no choice but to go on till morning.

Baore grew restless and positioned himself in the bow, staring ahead into the gloom. The others were quiet, listening intently for the sounds of fast water. If they were unlucky, Tarn knew, even a small rapids could hole their boat, and out here in the wildlands any damage would be hard for even Baore to repair.

By unspoken agreement, they had stopped rowing at some point so that the creaking of oars would not mask the sound of rushing water.

"This wasn't a good plan," Cynddl said, speaking very quietly.” I should have listened to you, Baore."Baore said nothing but kept his attention fixed on the rippling river.

"Has our pace increased?" Fynnol whispered.

Tam stared off toward the dark shore, trying to catch sight of the treetops against the sky.” I can't say for certain. Perhaps."They all sat, unmoving, trying to still their breathing so that they might hear the slightest sound—the tiniest change in the voice of the river. Memories of the Lion's Maw came to them all. Was that wind in the trees, Tam wondered, or the sound of water whispering over stone? "I hear fast water!" Fynnol said firmly. Tam and Baore jumped to the oars, backing quickly, checking their speed, but the darkness was impenetrable and they didn't know what to do. Any course in the darkness could lead to disaster. For a second they stopped to listen.” It isn't so loud," Baore said, "but I don't know if that means it's only a small rapid or if it's distant yet." Tam kept his oars in the water, rowing slowly into the current while they all strained to hear. Suddenly, without warning, the boat came to a grinding halt, lurching to one side and tossing them all from their seats. And there they seemed to be stuck fast. Baore and Fynnol cursed the darkness, dragging themselves up from the floorboards. Tam took an oar and sounded around the boat and found shallow water everywhere. They stepped out into the chill river.” I don't know which way we should go," Baore said. Even a few feet off, the big Valeman was invisible in the darkness.” There are trees here—look." Cynddl waded through the water.” We've run up on the shore, somehow." "But weren't we in the center of the river... ?" The others scrambled up onto the rocky beach.” It is an island," Fynnol said firmly.” I'm sure of it. There is water flowing to either side—rapidly flowing." Tam stubbed his bruised toes on stone and wished for a torch. As though in answer to his request, the hunchbacked moon appeared, stooping over the dark shapes of trees. Across the western heavens haloed stars seemed to surface in the blear. Dimly, an island appeared—palest gray of a rocky shore, dark shadows of trees above. Water rippled between them and the banks of the river, and Tam could see their boat, heeled to one side, stranded on a rock.” Well, I think we'll spend the night here and count ourselves lucky," Tam said.” Can we free the boat and beach it somewhere more hospitable?"Baore bent over their boat, unfastening the ropes holding their cargo in place.” Yes, but we have to lighten the load before there's any more damage."They unburdened their craft and lifted it from the rock, sliding it up onto the rough stone beach. By the faint and filtered moonlight they collected wood and Cynddl kindled a fire. He also brewed a sweet beverage he called tull, and they sat beneath the overhanging trees and talked about what a strange and frightening day it had been.

"I often wonder about Alaan," Fynnol said.” What was he doing in the north? Searching for some beast who'd burned a village? Or was he a thief who thought he'd outrun his victims?"Cynddl leaned forward, feeding some sticks to the flames, his face appearing as the fire flared: eyebrows and eyes like shadows.” Did Alaan say nothing of his destination or where he came from?""Only that he was going south. I recall nothing more." Tam looked at his cousin.

"He knew this man Truk of Inniseth." Fynnol shifted and winced, revealing the pain he was doing much to hide.

The river prattled and clattered like a crowd before a play. Baore had fallen asleep while patching arrow holes in the oiled tarp that covered their baggage. Tam could hear his rough, even breathing. Closing his eyes, Tam said a silent thanks to the river spirits that none of them had been seriously wounded that day.

Tam found he could not stay awake and his eyes closed of their own will. He slipped into dream. He stood alone in the center of the ford, riders attacking from all sides. The sun glistened ominously on the horse tails streaming from the riders' helms, and then he realized they were slick with blood. Just as he was about to be run through he heard a kind of keening, far off. Tarn's chin hit his chest and he came awake. Cynddl had risen quietly and stood, unmoving, staring into the trees. Immediately Tam thought of the apparition they'd seen.” Do you hear?" Cynddl whispered.” Faintly. I thought I was dreaming. What is it?" "I don't know, but I've never heard an animal make such a sound. It must be a man ... or woman." Fynnol roused from sleep and saw the other two standing, listening silently, and he scrambled up.” Have they found us again?" Baore, too, woke and jumped up, thinking they were being attacked.” Shh," Cynddl said.” It hardly seems likely they would be making such noise. I don't think it's a threat, but I can't guess what it might be." Cynddl took up his bow and Tam found his sword. The four went creeping into the shadowed wood, the moon casting only a little light in pale patches beneath the trees. The strange sound, high and thin, drew them on. In fifty feet they found themselves on a path, and then a square of orange light appeared above. A window. The island was rocky and steeply sloping. The path wound back and forth among the trees, roots delving in and out among the shattered rock, involved in the great labor of breaking the island to pieces. In the darkness, Tam could hear the others breathing raggedly, afraid in spite of themselves. It appeared that someone dwelt on this island, and the companions' experience of that day had made them wary and distrustful. They went forward slowly. Finally, they came up to the crest of the island, and there among the trees stood a house—not a woodsman's cottage but a large, stone house with a walled courtyard or garden. The noise came from beyond the wall, a mewling, almost inhuman sound which wandered up and down the scale of tones in a random, unmusical manner. The four companions hesitated, listening.