The Swans' War 3 - The Shadow Roads (19 page)

Pain shot through Tarn's shoulder, and he struggled up. He stepped back and stumbled over Pounder's round-headed ham-mer. He swept up the handle and discovered it was all he could do to heft the thing, pain cutting through his shoulder like he'd been stabbed. He swung at the arm of the monster as it fell full length. Whatever he hit gave, snapping like a thick board. The monster bellowed and looked up, fixing its terrible gaze on the frightened Valeman.

"Run,Tarn!" Fynnol shouted.

Tarn bolted for the narrow stair, but he stumbled and fell. The creature would have been upon him had someone not dropped down from the wall above, landing between Tarn and the monster.

"It is me you want," Alaan said calmly. "I'm the one your mas-ter sent you for."Tarn got slowly to his feet as though not to draw the monster's attention. A sword landed point first a few feet away, and stood there quivering. Tarn yanked it free and braced himself, not sure what Alaan might do.

"I'm at your back," Tarn said softly.

"Move away," Alaan whispered.

The creature had risen to its full height, more than twice that of Alaan, and thrice the body weight of the largest giant. Before it, Alaan looked like a child holding a toy sword. But the creature eyed him warily,snorting. It hobbled, the sword still lodged in its knee, so it would not charge headlong, but even so it was the most hor-rifying monster Tarn had ever seen. Against the stars, horns pierced the darkness.

"Come, you stupid beast," Alaan muttered. "Your master is waiting.""I speak, sorcerer," the beast hissed, its voice like rocks rum-bling down a chasm.

"Then I am the sorcerer once known as Sainth, son of Wyrr. Alaan men call me now. Your master has sent you to find me. Why is it you wait? Can you not work up your nerve?"The thing began to circle to the left, hobbling painfully on its in-jured leg.

"I know you, sorcerer," the creature said. "You have been to the gate before, but this time it is opening. Can you hear it? The sound of grinding bones?"It stumbled and went down on one knee, but as it came up it hurled something in the dark. Alaan threw himself aside, and Tarn's sword clanged off the stone steps. The beast was upon him, seem-ingly unhurt. Alaan was rising from the ground as it leapt forward. He put up a hand, and there was a flash of white light, so bright Tam staggered back, blinded.

A terrible scream echoed off the stone walls and rose up into the dark sky. Tam tried desperately to see, but the flash had stolen his vision. He found himself against the wall, blinking furiously, sharp pain cutting through his watering eyes.

It was a moment before his vision began to clear, and then he could see only vague silhouettes, odd shapes. Finally, he began to make out something large, prostrate on the ground, a small shape—Alaan—standing over it.

Tam groped forward, the scene coming slowly into focus. "You killed it," he said to the figure standing there.

"If you can kill something that came from Death's kingdom," Alaan answered wearily. "Yes, I killed it. You kill a charging bull by dodging aside and driving your sword between its shoulder blades.""You've done it before?""No, but Sainth had. The thing was blinded, luckily, which made it a bit easier. Let's see who's injured."Alaan put a hand on Tarn's shoulder, guiding him, for Tam could still see little. The giants came down from the wall. They had no taunts for the outsiders now, but kept glancing from Alaan to the dead creature, and Tam wasn't sure which unsettled them more.

"It spoke to you…" Pounder said.

Alaan nodded.

"It knew your name," one of the other giants said very quietly. "Death knows your name.""It is a long story," Alaan said. "And you would rather not hear it." He was walking toward one corner of the keep, where they found Crowheart soothing the horses.

"We lost a packhorse," Rabal said, stroking the neck of a shak-ing mare. The horses gathered around him as though he would protect them.

"I don't imagine we will be bothered again this night," Alaan said, "but we should try to do something about the gate."The giants all jumped to the task with a will, still glancing now and then at Alaan. Tarn couldn't tell if they were more awed or frightened. Sometimes he wondered himself.

"Wolfson?" Alaan said, interrupting their work. "Tomorrow we will go into the shadow lands. You needn't travel farther than this."The giant nodded quickly, then went back to his work, obvi-ously relieved.

They waited several silent hours for cloud to wrap the moon, then slid their boat into the Wynnd. Samul didn't like what they were doing. It reminded him too much of his foray east of the river with his cousin, Beld, when they had been on the run after their failed assassination of Toren—and murder of Arden.

The company was better this time—he had to admit that—but the situation was more desperate. Fondor had dressed them as poor travelers, though they looked like nothing so much as highwaymen. It didn't take a great deal of wit to see why he'd done that. They could not travel openly for fear of being recognized, and highway-men were forced to slink about, keeping to secret paths and out of sight. If they were to run afoul of soldiers of Innes or of the Wills, they would have to fight for their lives, for highwaymen were, more often than not, cut down where they were found and never came before a magistrate. If they were caught, Fondor clearly hoped, they might be buried before any recognized them.

The two watermen who manned the oars were frightened, and could not hide it, which-didn't increase Samul's confidence. A glance at Lord Carl told him nothing in the darkness. He sat very still, though—listening, Samul guessed—and stared into the night. Lord Carl and his servant-thief had already been on the run across the Isle of Battle, and the two of them looked terribly haunted and wary. Samul guessed that he would soon become equally wary—if he lived long enough.

Jamm was recovering from injuries and illness and had that vul-nerable look common among the sick. Samul wondered if the little thief, in his present condition, would be able to guide them suc-cessfully through lands controlled by the Wills family and the House of Innes.

Better this than death, he told himself. He glanced up at the moon, which could just be seen behind a thin veil of racing cloud. "Faster," he whispered.

But the watermen didn't change their pace, and the Renne real-ized that greater speed would make more noise, and they couldn't afford that. He glanced up again. A patch of cloud, illuminated from within, grew brighter as though the cloud stretched and thinned. At any moment the moon could break through.

Samul turned his gaze back to earth, seeking the eastern shore. A band of shadow was probably a line of trees, but how distant it was he could not say. The watermen kept dipping their muffled oars, the smell of their sweat mixed with the river musk. Wind tore the cloud to rags, and the moon broke free, turning the water to sil-ver. Before he thought, Samul threw himself down. It didn't mat-ter; their black hull would be impossible to miss on the glittering river.

There was nothing for it now but to race for the eastern em-bankment and get ashore as quickly as they could. They would have to trust to Jamm to slip them away before they were found.

Trees loomed out of the dark, and the boat slid almost silently up on the mud. Immediately, Michael and Carl leapt ashore. He could see their blades gleaming in the moonlight. Jamm scurried after them, crouching low, casting his gaze anxiously this way and that. Samul made his way past the watermen, wanting to keep his boots dry if at all possible. He stepped ashore as something erupted out of the trees.

A horseman, sword high, went straight at Prince Michael, who barely got a blade up in time. Two other riders and men on foot crashed through bush, milling about in the tiny clearing.

Samul turned back toward the boat, but the watermen were al-ready twenty feet out into the river and pulling for their lives. Ar-rows began thudding against wood, but Samul saw no more as he dove aside to miss a blow designed to take off his head.

A horse screamed, rearing high, as Jamm yanked a sword free of its ribs. The rider was thrown down at Samul's feet, and he plunged a sword into the man's throat before he'd gained his knees. Carl and Michael were in a fight for their lives, leaping this way and that, keeping the horses between themselves and the others. The con-fined space worked against the riders, and in a moment the four fugitives were stumbling through the dark wood, the shouts and curses of their hunters right behind.

Samul felt someone grab his arm and pull him hard to the one side, where he was dragged over a large log to land on top of his fellows. He could hear their harsh breathing as the hunters came thundering by, five men on foot and two horsemen, he judged. For a moment they listened to the men go charging into the darkness, tripping and falling as they went.

"Follow me," Jamm whispered. "Stay down."They went off across the mossy forest floor on hands and knees, stopping every twenty feet to listen. Men were shouting not far off, and others answered. Samul could see torches waving through the trees.

They had stopped again, and Jamm drew them all close.

"That is the road," he whispered, "where the torches are. If they can keep us this side of the road until sunrise, they'll trap us here. We have to pass over, no matter the cost."Samul nodded in the dark. Sunrise was only few hours off. There wasn't much time to waste. They followed Jamm, creeping a few paces, stopping, then moving again. The little thief was more stealthy than a spider. Such a man could slip in your window, steal anything he desired, and slink out again. Good reason to keep dogs, the nobleman thought, before remembering that he possessed not a thing in this world but a good sword, a dagger, and a fast-beating heart. He felt his resolve harden then. If they were forced to fight their way across the road, he didn't care—no man-at-arms was going to stand between him and another dawn.

Three horsemen thundered by, far too close, and Samul pressed himself into the ground, hardly daring to breathe. They were hard up against the road now. Horses clattered by, their hooves just feet from his head, and torches bobbed past in the near distance, a bitter haze left hanging over the lane to sting his eyes. Here and there a bit of moonlight found its way through the trees, illuminating the cart tracks, though Jamm had picked the darkest section he could find.

Carl A'denne was beside him and leaned close to Samul's ear. "Jamm says to be ready to run across, all at once, as quick as we can."Samul nodded and dug his fingers into the detritus of the for-est floor. Every time he felt the others brace themselves to sprint, a horsemen or a small company of infantry would appear. Too many men were swarming the area. Apparently the Wills took spies rather seriously, though there must be enough of them around—on both sides of the river.

Just as Samul began to the think the light in the eastern sky was not imagined, Jamm leapt up and dashed across the road, his legs a blur in the poor light. The others were only a few paces behind, diving into the wood opposite. Samul hit his head so hard on a branch that he was driven to his knees. Carl dragged him up, and the two of them went blindly on, blundering into boulders and tree trunks.

Thirty feet farther they dropped to their knees again, crawling quickly to their right. A company of foot soldiers came crashing into the wood, a single torch lighting their way. They stopped not fifteen feet away.

"Listen!" their captain ordered, and the soldiers stood there, trying to control their breathing.

Samul and the others stayed as still as they could, afraid the torchlight would find them in the dark, for they could see the sol-diers fairly clearly through leaves and branches.

Other men were calling into the wood from the road, then they too came crashing through the underwood: Samul could see the torches flickering, turning the tree trunks a dull orange. They were in trouble, now.

Jamm stood up a little, raising his arm. He let fly a good-sized rock, which struck one of the men with such force that he dropped the torch. Chaos erupted, men stamping out a fire that had started, others crashing in from the road.

In the noise and confusion, Jamm led them off. They did not go quickly, but they never stopped, and in a short while the torches were lost from sight, and the shouting of the men grew distant and unintelligible.

Even with daylight Jamm kept them moving, until he finally crawled into a spreading thicket of spiny bushes. The path they took forced them down on their bellies, and even then they were scarred and scratched repeatedly. A little "room" lay in the center of the thicket, the bushes arching over them so that even a hawk wouldn't know they were there. Here they lay in the sparse grass, not daring to move, listening to men pass all morning and on into the afternoon, before the search moved off to the south.

Samul could see the look of wariness disappear from Jamm's face, and he tried to smile at the others.

"Well you did it again, Jamm," Carl A'denne whispered. "Did you know of this place?""I was shown it once, but we should not talk. A few words can be worth your life, sometimes."They slept in shifts that day, eating the little bit of food they car-ried. Jamm did not like to bear more than a mouthful of water, say-ing that it sloshed about and made noise at the most inconvenient times, so they were all parched by sunset. Jamm, however, did not seem much concerned about their thirst, and when Samul men-tioned this to Lord Carl the young man put a finger to his lips.

Leaning close, Carl whispered. "If not for Jamm I would be dead many times over. If you are hunted, do as the fox does."Samul tried to ignore his dry mouth and cultivate patience.

When the night was good and dark, Jamm crept out to the op-posite edge of the thicket from the place they'd entered. After what must have been an hour, Samul leaned close to Carl.

"He's run off," he whispered.

Carl shook his head in the near darkness. "Patience" he whispered.

Eventually Jamm returned for them. They crawled out of the copse with a hand on the boot of the man in front. For a few mo-ments they crouched in the shadow of the thicket, then slunk off— Samul could think of no other word for it—through the long grass of a fallow field.

Jamm was a master of finding shadow—beneath a hedgerow, alongside a dry stone wall. He went often on hands and knees, and even on his belly, when he was forced to cross open areas where the moonlight fell. He stopped frequently to listen and watch for lengthy periods. Hilltops were things to be feared in his world, and he eyed them with a deep, abiding suspicion.

A few hours after their march began, he led them to a spring, though not before circling it once and watching it for some good time before he deemed it safe. Despite what Lord Carl had said, Samul was certain there was no fox so wary as Jamm.

They skirted a small village and left farm buildings in the dis-tance. Once they went out of their way to avoid a couple furtively making love in the shadow of a hedge. By the time the eastern sky began to show a hint of coming morning, Samul Renne could hardly have gone another yard. Fortunately, the little thief led them to a cliff, up a steep, narrow gully, across a bit of a ledge, and into a shallow cave that angled down into the rock, like a pocket.

"You can't see this from the ground," Jamm whispered. "Only a few know it's here."They ate the last of their food as they lazed there, and drank 68=^=

the little bit of water that Samul had left in his skin, the others as reluctant as Jamm to carry water. The day spread out below, and Samul crept up beside Jamm, who lay on the stone, his eyes just above the rim, surveying the lands. They were fairly high up—not because the cliff was high but because the land sloped up from the river—and they were afforded a view for half a league, Samul was sure.

"Stay as still as you can," Jamm said. "Movement can be seen at some distance.""But is anyone looking for us?"Jamm raised a hand to the rim of the stone and pointed. Some distance off, on a road that cut north to south across the patch-work of fields and woods, a column of riders in purple-and-black livery, rode slowly south. The longer Samul looked the more signs of war he saw—troop moving, trains of wagons lumbering north, but there were men-at-arms and huntsmen out on the fields and woods too.

"They're searching for us?" Samul asked.

"Perhaps," whispered Jamm, then pointed again.

A figure dodged out of little stand of scrub and went haring along the edge of a field, slipping into the bush to avoid a group of riders.

"And who might that be?" Samul wondered aloud.

Jamm shrugged. "Highwayman, thief, deserter…"Samul watched a little while, then slipped back down into the cave, no longer feeling so secure.

For a few hours he slept but woke to a hand over his mouth, Jamm looking down at him, a finger to his lips. There was some sound coming from above, and then a stone bounced off the lip of their hiding spot and went tumbling on. Laughter from above was a relief to them all, for these were children. A rain of rocks and sticks fell for the next hour, then Jamm was suddenly alert, slipping his sword from its scabbard. Samul was afraid the children might be climbing down. What would they do about that? But a moment later he heard the thud of a horse's hoof, the creak of leather. Rid-

ers stopped below the cliff; and the children ended their rain of rocks.

"Boy!" a man called from below. "Seen any strangers hereabout the last day or so?""Not today, sir," a child's voice came from above. "But we saw three men on horses yesterday morning, just after dawn. They were slanting cross-country and not taking the roads. My father said it was a strange way to travel.""Where were they going?" the man called.

"Southeast, sir. Toward Crofton, or so we thought.""Thank you, lad," the man-at-arms called back. "Is there a way down from up there?""There is, sir," the boy answered, though reluctantly.

"Then I'll leave a coin for you. By this tree."The horses moved off. Samul could hear the boys clambering down the same little gully they had ascended. Did these children really not know the cave was there? He hoped they didn't; espe-cially now that they knew the soldiers were looking for strangers. But the children went quickly by, hardly more than a dozen feet away, apparently unaware. The coin was found, to great delight, and the boys set off, hotly debating the uses for such a great sum of money and marveling at their good fortune.

The moon was waning and did not rise till late, so they were forced to make the climb from their eyry in the sparse light of the stars. Samul's respect for Jamm went up then. He had thought Jamm a timid little man, but there was little question whose nerve was tested to tackle that climb in the dark. When his feet finally reached the ground, Samul regarded the thief with newfound respect.