The Swans' War 1 - The One Kingdom (33 page)

"Many times. Indeed, I seek it." He patted his bag.” The plants I gather are found nowhere else. I carry them to healers in the south. But the secret river isn't easily found. One can spend years on the Wynnd and never vary from its course, though I have traveled the secret branches more often than most. I've never seen or heard tell of this drowned forest of stone, though.""Speaking Stone is not on the normal course of the Wynnd, is it?" Tarn said.

"No, Eber is one of the few who lives on a branch of the hidden river, though there are others. I've met them now and then. I am one of the few men I know of who travels back and forth a purpose. Most are like you—finding their way onto the hidden river unknowing, and wishing never to see it again. But I am an explorer of sorts. I do not make maps of my travels, for how can one map a river that appears and disappears and never in the same place twice." He reached into his pack and took out a small book.” But I keep a record of my travels. Perhaps I will make sense of it one day, piece it all together." He opened the book and paged through it slowly.” So far there is no rhyme or reason to it, but I have been at it only a dozen years." Theason glanced up at Cynddl.” What stories you must have found as you've traveled. How I envy you your calling." "You shouldn't envy me," Cynddl said.” The stories of this river are disturbing—sometimes brutal and horrifying." Theason nodded, reaching up a hand to gently trace the scars above his eyes.” That does not surprise me. There is a pool of hatred deep within the Greensprings. It seeps and trickles south, infecting the people there, though they know it not." He looked up at the others, and took his hand quickly away from his scars. He stood, lifting his bag and slinging it over a shoulder.” But I have fulfilled my promise to Eber, and now must be about my own errands." He patted his bag.” I have widow's bloom and heartleaf to gather." "But where are we now?" Tam asked quickly, as Theason bowed and turned to go.” Are we on the hidden river?" "Can you not tell?" Theason said, staring at him oddly.” Surely you have noted that the trees change. The underwood is different, plant by plant. It is unmistakable. You have only to open your eyes. Luck to you," he said, took up his staff, and set off into the trees, silent as sunlight. Baore stepped out of the bush then, surprising them all. He said nothing, but looked coldly from one to the next, his gaze finally falling on Fynnol.” Then it was not a dream at all," he said, his voice and manner very subdued.” This creature came to me, this nagar, and offered me a way back to life." He paused.” And you said nothing...." Fynnol cast his gaze down, his head twitching back and forth, as though he searched for an explanation.” We thought you needed peace of mind to recover, Baore," Tarn said after a moment.” We... we were concerned for your well-being."Baore didn't even look at Tarn.” Or Fynnol wanted me to go on to Westbrook, to stay on this cursed river.""That's not true!" Fynnol said, looking up.

Tarn thought he might have to step between the cousins, such was the look Baore gave Fynnol.

"Isn't it? What care you if I'm haunted by a ghoul, as long as you have your way." Baore continued to glare at his cousin, and then his look of outrage wavered and snuffed out like a flame. He collapsed onto an outcropping of stone, covering his face, his great chest heaving.” This... thing," he almost sobbed.” It wants some part of my life. That's what it said. But I refused its offer, and here I am all the same. Did it carry me back to the world of life? And if it did, what will it want of me in return?" He turned his head up, gazing at Cynddl.

The story finder crouched down so that his head was on the same level as Baore's.” I don't know, Baore. What happened to you is beyond my knowledge. Nagar, Theason called this apparition, but the nagar are a mystery. Among my people only Rath might have answers for your questions, but Rath is far away.""I shall go no farther than the Wold of Kerns, no matter what anyone else chooses to do. From there I will go north— home, by road, alone if need be. But I shall travel no farther on this haunted river.""We will reach the Wold in a few days," Cynddl said.” There I will keep my bargain and buy horses for all who wish them. Let me have just this one night in this place, and we can be on our way in the morning. Three days or so to the Wold of Kerns, Baore, and your part of our bargain is done."Baore looked up sharply at Cynddl as he said this.” I've heard enough of bargains," he said.” There is no profit in them for me, but only sorrow. Sorrow and nightmares. Nightmares that remain when the morning dawns."

THEY SAW HIM FIRST ON A RIDGE HIGH ABOVE OPEN FARMLAND. Hafydd's bewitched sword had begun sounding madly, like an angry wasp. It was the first sighting they'd had of Hafydd's "whist" since he'd eluded them on the cliff. The huntsman soon had his trail, but there was only one horse now. Elise was no longer with him. Lord Menwyn and his men-at-arms gave up the chase then, the Wills lord saying it was clear they could never catch this man who was obviously a sorcerer. He'd glanced at Hafydd's sheathed sword as he said this, his mouth turning down a little. Prince Michael's father decided to join Lord Menwyn, but Hafydd would not hear of giving up the chase. He and his guards would go on. And to his own surprise, Michael chose to ride on with them.” This pursuit is vain," his father had said to him.” Will you not ride back with me?" "No, Father, I will go on and learn something of this sorcerer you've taken as your counselor—this man who has be-spelled you." And so he had ridden on, following Hafydd, who ignored him, the two of them in the center of a circle of voiceless, black-clad men-at-arms—Hafydd's revenant honor guard. They had no need of huntsmen now and used only Hafydd's blade to guide them. The Prince had never ridden a horse so hard, and felt pangs of guilt over this. Twice more that day they sighted Hafydd's whist, but they never seemed to draw nearer.

He led them down through one of the thousand river valleys that made up the land between the mountains. People they met had seen him pass. One young woman had actually spoken with him. Michael got the distinct impression that their quarry was in no hurry. He was toying with them, as though he knew that Hafydd could never give up the chase. He was taunting Hafydd.

For his part, Hafydd said nothing, but only followed his lodestone wherever it indicated: over fields, once through a marsh, up steep hills, through dense wood. By night they led their horses and went forward in the darkness, Hafydd claiming that their whist would rest, but they would not.

They had found a campfire burning and had approached it stealthily, with swords drawn, but there was no one there. Hafydd had taken his ringing blade and attacked the fire, sending sparks and burning chunks of wood everywhere. He had stood there in the center of a small clearing, Prince Michael and his guards having drawn back to the shadow's edge.

The knight glanced quickly around at the others, his face mostly shadow, scattered bits of fire burning around him.” We shall find him yet," Hafydd said.” He'll not make a fool of me.""He already has," Prince Michael heard himself say.” I have only ridden with you to witness it." His breath caught then, and he could say no more. The night seemed to have fallen silent, and Hafydd's guards became suddenly still. Prince Michael was almost unable to keep to his feet, his fear was so great.

Someone must stand before him, he thought. Someone must.

But when Hafydd strode across to him, the Prince stepped back, then held his place. The old knight stared at him, and Prince Michael was not able to meet that gaze long. He looked away, hanging his head and hating himself for doing it.

"You talk like a brave man," Hafydd said, standing before him a moment more; and then he stepped away, holding up his humming sword and turning in a small circle, the shattered fire burning in shards about his feet.

BAORE TOOK THEM ASHORE AT THE MOUTH OF A SMALL CREEK that whispered into the larger river. It had been four days since their meeting with Theason Hollyoak, and the Wold of Kerns had not yet appeared. Baore had grown more restive and silent as the days passed, and now put them ashore so that Cynddl might walk in the wood and try to determine if they were on the Wynnd or the secret river. The four went single file up the edge of the creek and very soon found themselves walking beneath trees with bark white as birch. The leaves shivered in the breeze, and large, pendulous flowers hung down like narrow, yellow bells. Cynddl stopped, reaching up to pluck a flower from its branch. A bee landed clumsily on the lip of this blossom, wiggling into the throat, its small legs working furiously.” I think this will answer our question," Cynddl said, watching the bee do its work.” We hardly need look any further." Baore slumped down on the rocks of the embankment, his arms limp, as though he'd lost control of them. Tarn didn't know what to say.” We'll reach the Wold," Cynddl said.” It is only a matter of time." "Yes, and our heron man once thought he'd passed through the Lion's Maw," Baore said, his voice bitter and soft.

But the Wold of Kerns did not appear that day or the next, and they were still on a branch of the hidden river, as far as they could tell. On the evening of the sixth day they made a camp on a gravel beach, and Fynnol fished their dinner from the river.

They lounged about the fire in the long evening hours, the sun hidden by trees and hills, the eastern shore still bathed in golden light. Baore sat as far from the river as the beach would allow, his eyes fixed on the moving water as though it were a snake that might turn on them at any moment. He and Fynnol continued their joust of silence, and though Cynddl and Tam tried to make conversation it could not stand against the silence and was overwhelmed.

Baore rose suddenly, and stared out at the river. Tam spun around, thinking their apparition had appeared again, but there, in the river's center, two men stood in a crudely built barge, staring at the Valemen and their Fael companion. One of them raised an arm and waved tentatively.

"Well, we aren't the only ones lost on the river," Fynnol said.

Baore cupped his hands to his mouth.” How far to the Wold of Kerns?" he called.

"We left the Wold three days past," the man's voice echoed over the water, "but it'll take you six days, maybe seven, pulling against the flow.""But the Wold of Kerns is to the south . . . !" Baore shouted, pointing.

The man looked very darkly at the big Valeman, shook his head, and extended a hand to the north.

Baore stood for a moment, watching the men pass by, the slanting light illuminating their shoulders and heads. After they had disappeared, Baore stood for a moment more, gazing at the river. Then he turned quickly and disappeared into the wood, leaving the others silent in his wake.

The shadows stretched into darkness and Baore found himself on an outcropping of stone not far behind their encampment. The river lay below him, and the moon floated up from behind distant hills. The voice of the river was soft here as though it slept peacefully, but Baore had learned that it was never to be trusted, not even in its most tranquil mood.” It'll never set me free," he said aloud, looking over the moonlit river to the hills beyond. Somewhere, leagues away, the road meandered south, but the forest was thick and the hills rugged. To walk out might take more woodcraft than Baore possessed, and certainly the others would never go with him. They still believed they could get off this river, that their journey would have an end, but Baore was not so sure. He was beginning to think that the river could keep them from ever reaching civilized lands, from ever seeing a road again. Perhaps the Lion's Maw awaited them yet.” Why do you look so sad, Baore Talon? I returned you to the land of the living—and you made no bargains with ghouls.'" Baore whirled around, and there in the fading light, on the edge of deeper shadow, stood the fair woman he had seen before. The woman from his dream of Death's gate. She came out into the moonlight, and Baore felt himself shrink away, yet he also wanted to stay. She wasn't quite substantial, like a reflection in the twilit river. Her eyes were the shadows of overhanging leaves, her hair dark clouds. Even as insubstantial as she was he could see her long, thick lashes, her exquisite youth. She appeared hardly more than a girl of twenty. A girl abandoned in the wildlands, craving the warmth of others.” What is it you want of me?" he whispered. She took a step nearer, and he could see that she dressed as a man-at-arms, a sword on her hip.” I have watched you, Baore Talon. I watched as you carried the man-at-arms ashore—the man who had tried to kill you—and buried him in the ground, as he wanted. You are good and kind and incapable of hatred—even hatred of your enemies. In what I must do, you cannot help me, but you can journey south into the inhabited lands. That is all I ask. Let the river bear you south."She had drawn closer now, and with each step she seemed to become more real, like a reflection appearing as the water calmed. Baore had a terror that she might touch him, and yet he longed for her to touch him.

"You think I am something terrible, don't you? A ghoul, you called me before—before I carried you back here to the world of life and human warmth.""I ... I don't know what to think," Baore said.” I even wonder if I'm going mad."She shook her head, a small smile appearing, but then pushed aside by sorrow.” No, you are not mad, and I am terrible. More terrible than you know. But I am also lost and despairing and lonely and cold. If you knew how much I longed to touch you, you would be frightened, I think." She reached out a hand, but stopped.” It would be no more than the softest breeze to you—perhaps not even that. But I am tied to you all the same. It is you who keeps me near this world—the living world—as though we were tethered by an invisible cord. But if you carry me south, I will find another who will do what I need, and I will release you."She stood close before him now, looking up. She was so small and slender, almost a child beside Baore. Her eyes were as dark and deep as an empty night sky.” Will you take me south, Baore Talon?""What if I refuse?" he said breathlessly.

She gazed at him a moment.” Will you refuse me?" she asked quietly.

Baore shook his head.” No," he said, "you carried me back from Death's gate. I will bear you south in return. But nothing more. I fear death, but I fear other things worse. That is the only bargain I will make.""It is enough," she said. For a moment more she stood gazing up at him, then turned and went back into the shadows of the trees, like a drop of rain disappearing into the river.