The Swans' War 3 - The Shadow Roads (27 page)

A black robe appeared at the foot of the stair then, and the guard shouted. Ufrra fit oars between the tholepins and dug them into the waters, turning the boat sluggishly about.

The guard ran to the water's edge but there he stopped, cursing— clearly unable to swim.

By the time the other guard ran out onto the quay, Ufrra was rowing out of the lagoon into the broad river. The guards found bows and came running out onto the crumbling seawall, sending arrows after the quickly retreating boat. A small rain of them spat-tered down around them, one lodging in the floorboards between Kai and his servant. The bootblack ducked down in the stern, try-ing to hide himself beneath a thwart. Fewer arrows were landing near, by then.

"We are almost out of range," Kai said to the boy. "In a moment you'll be safe."Just then a missile came hissing down and lodged itself in Ufrra's thigh. The mute faltered, letting go one oar which thudded about between tholepins then pivoted overboard. Stillman made a dive over the side and fetched it, dripping, from the river.

He placed it back between the wooden pins and, manning that oar two-handed, helped Ufrra take them out of range, the current assisting in this endeavor. The men on the shore gave up shooting, and as they watched their prisoners escape, shouted imprecations and threats.

"Where is Hafydd?" the boy gasped as he pulled at his oar.

"Still wandering about the island," Kai said. "It seems he didn't listen to me when I warned him to keep his company together—all the better." Kai glanced down the river. "Help me into place, and I will man an oar if I can," he said. "Hafydd will be in a rage when he learns we've escaped, but even so I don't think he'll come after us. He has his master to serve. Revenge on Kilydd will have to wait—a very long time, I hope."The island was a maze contrived by a madman—a sorcerous mad-man. Hafydd led them up steps and along pathways that disap-peared when they tried to return. Once, they were forced to scale a near cliff, and arrived atop a ruined parapet to find a place they had passed earlier, though all were sure it had been lower down and to the south.

Hafydd took out his sword there and ordered the others to leave him in peace. He was heard muttering and chanting to himself, then he struck the flat of his blade upon a stone, making it wail and quaver like some tortured spirit of the dead.

Lord A'denne rested on a fallen log, trying not to look too in-terested in what Hafydd was doing. If this were magic the knight performed—and it most certainly was—then perhaps Hafydd would be weakened afterward. The nobleman glanced casually around. Hafydd's guards had been ordered to leave their lord in peace, but they had staked out a perimeter around him—ever vig-ilant, their eyes on the nobleman. If only there were some other to perform the assassination while the guards watched him—but there was only Beldor Renne, whose loyalty might not be certain. He had risked his life to save a bootblack. Would he not risk it to save the land between the mountains?

Hafydd turned in a circle, holding out his wailing blade. The sound made A'denne shiver, so haunting and otherworldly did it seem. Then Hafydd stopped. A'denne could make him out through the leaves. He stopped, and his eyes sprang open.

"Sianon," he whispered.

They found, on the western shore, a narrow landing place from which they could climb a broken spine of fallen boulders to the low shoulder of the island above. With some effort they dragged the boats up and hid them beneath low-hanging trees.

"I don't much like putting our boats up here, where they can't be launched quickly." Orlem glanced around, a look of disapproval on his ancient face.

"We've no choice, Orlem," Elise said. "We can't leave them where they'll be easily found. And I don't think it will be the last thing you don't like on this journey. Hafydd is here before us, I'm sure."Orlem loosened his massive sword in its scabbard and unrolled the sheepskin that held his shirt of mail. As Toren watched the giant don the rippling garment he felt glad to be on his side. If his mail weighed that much, he would be worn-out in an hour.

The others spread out the few belongings that had not been lost to the river. Some weapons had been saved, two axes, a few shirts of mail, two bows, and perhaps two dozen arrows. Baore said he could make more, for they had the heads, and he was skilled with his hands, but there was no time for that at the moment, and Toren feared there would be no time later either.

Eber, of course, was too old to wield a weapon, and Llya too young. Theason did not seem inclined to warfare, though he knew a great deal of healing, which the Renne lord was afraid would be put to use. A'brgail was a formidable warrior, as were his few Knights, and Baore had apparently been chased down the length of the Wynnd by Hafydd's guards, winning several skirmishes on the way, so there was more to him than his farm boy appearance suggested. Even with Elise and Orlem and his own men-at-arms, though, Toren feared they would be no match for Hafydd. And who knew what would stop a soul eater?— whatever that was.

Elise did not seem to need either food or rest and was soon ready to go, though most of the others were tired and hungry. Even so, they picked up what weapons they had and stood ready to fol-low, trying to push fear and exhaustion aside with pure will.

Elise crouched on one knee and smiled at the boy, Llya. "Do you know where we're to go now?"Eber made some signs with his hands to be sure his son under-stood, but the child hardly took his eyes away from Elise. Llya shook his head. Elise messed his hair and kissed his cheek. "You have done enough.""Lady Elise," Eber said softly, averting his face a little so his son could not see his mouth move. "I fear my son is in danger here."Elise nodded, her face pensive. She rose to her feet and for a moment was lost in thought. "You could take a boat, perhaps with Theason, and go off down the river, but there will be no one to pro-tect you then."Llya seemed to register what Elise was saying and tugged on his father's robe. Quickly, he made words with his hands.

"What is he saying?" Elise asked.

"He says he must find the sleeper in the river," Eber said, a sigh present in his voice. He too crouched down so that Llya could eas-

ily see his face. "It is dangerous here," Eber said, slowly and delib-erately.

But Llya shook his head and began moving his hands again, his manner surprisingly determined.

Eber did sigh then and looked up at Elise, who raised an eye-brow. "He says there is danger everywhere, now. Llya thinks we should stay with you and Baore, who he thinks is a great warrior."Elise smiled. "Baore is a great warrior. He and his companions fought a company of Hafydd's guards and men-at-arms of the Prince of Innes and won. Not many could do that. They even fought Hafydd himself, as we escaped that forbidden swamp. Baore is fearless. We will make him Llya's guard, for I have other matters that will take my attention. Baore… ?" she said, turning to find the young man from the wildlands. "You will be Llya's guard now.""But I am your guard, my lady," the quiet youth said.

"Yes, but I'm more able to defend myself than is Llya. Can you not look after him so that I do not worry?"Baore bowed his head. "If that is what you wish."Elise favored Baore with a smile that would melt many a man's heart, Toren thought. She turned back to the others. "Hafydd is here. Be wary. Speak only when you must, and then quietly."Much of the day had slipped away, and the island cast a long shadow over the eastern shore. Toren had never been anywhere that had such a strange… "feel."The island was inordinately silent, ap-parently caught in an everlasting autumn. Even the light seemed thin and golden, as though summer wound slowly down. He ex-pected flights of ducks and geese to pass over, chasing the de-scending sun into the south.

The day had been spent wandering over the isle, mounting stairs that seemed to lead them back to where they began, follow-ing paths that did not take them where they should. If Toren had not once traveled to the Stillwater by an impossible road, he would have been very disturbed by these events. But instead, he was not surprised. This place was magical—he could feel it.

They had stopped to rest at the base of a cliff on the island's northern tip, where they stood staring down the river. A tiny rill sparkled there as the water ran quickly down.

"What do you say, Orlem?" Elise asked. She stood looking around as though it were a plot of land she considered buying. "I think this is as good a place as any to make camp. There is water, and we can defend ourselves well enough."Orlem stood and turned in a circle. They were on a rounded point of land cliffs or very steep slopes falling off to three sides. Be-hind them, the stream had cut a narrow gully through the rock. This was choked with branches and the trunks of fallen trees.

"It is less than perfect," Orlem pronounced, "but we might wander until darkness and not find anyplace better. I think we should not light a fire," he said.

"Yes. We have little enough to eat anyway, and there doesn't seem to be much game for the archers."Hard, salted beef was put to soak in cups, and a berry-picking company was formed and went scouring the nearby hillside under Elise's watchful eye—for she had warned all of the pickers to keep her in sight. Theason filled his vest with edible mushrooms, and roots he said tasted like cinnamon, though no one but Eber would try them, so foul did they look. Hard little apples were plucked from a stunted tree, and Theason gathered rose hips, explaining that they were both of admirable flavor and healthful. In the end it was not such a sparse meal after all, though most could remember better.

Orlem and Elise discussed exploring the gully for a little dis-tance, but dusk put an end to that endeavor, though Toren real-ized it would be their path of retreat should they be surrounded where they were. The Renne lord drew first watch, which he stood with A'brgail. Stars were clear overhead, but by the end of the first hour, they began to blur, then were obscured entirely. A cool wind arose from the south and soon began to gust through the trees, tearing away branches and spinning up little whirlwinds of leaves.

"We shall see some rain," Theason said. "Within the hour, I should say.""Let it pour," Elise answered. "Hafydd is only half as formida-ble without fire." She looked around. "We might find a bit of shel-ter there, where the cliff overhangs."The company moved their few belongings to the place she in-dicated, though there was barely room for them, let alone any place for a man to lie down and sleep. Elise went to the small stream and bent to drink, just as lightning tore open the horizon and thunder tolled across the hills.

Hafydd appeared to follow where his blade led, pointing down to-ward the earth. They rounded a buttress of stone where a flash of lightning illuminated a small, round pool. Hafydd stopped there, turning in a small circle.

"I sense him," the knight whispered hoarsely, and thrust his blade into the small stream leading from the pool. A flash of light-ning illuminated his stark face, eyes open in surprise.

A'denne watched as the knight ran his blade back up the narrow little stream, as though cutting it carefully in two. The blade reached the small pool where the water ran thin over an ancient stone weir. As his blade entered the pool, Hafydd stopped. For a moment he crouched there, eyes closed, holding the blade utterly still with both hands. His eyes opened after a moment.

"There you are, Father," he whispered. "Death comes stalking you, at last. Can you feel him? Can you feel a son's loathing?""Hafydd!" Elise hissed, and leapt clear of the little stream, her sword already in hand. Rain drove down upon them, and wind whipped around the headland. She had gone to the stream to drink and staggered back suddenly.

"He is above us …," Elise said, her voice low and urgent.

Orlem gazed up the stone buttress, one arm raised as though to ward of missiles. "Does he know we're here?""Almost certainly. I sensed him. He must have been drinking from the stream above. I can't imagine he didn't sense me as well."They all crowded under the overhang, pushing up against the cold wall, waiting for boulders to begin dropping from above. But only wind-borne leaves spattered about them. Lightning flashed—even nearer—and thunder battered them. Rain washed out of the sky and ran like a curtain of beads from the lip of over-hanging rock.

For a long while they waited, Orlem standing over the stream, gazing up the gully, sword in hand. At each flash he raised his blade, and the others stiffened, ready to spring to his aid. Elise too, stood out in the teeming rain, her golden curls plastered straight against her glistening face.

Lightning flashed, and Elise was gone. Just as the light faded Toren found her by the now-overflowing stream, her blade in the water. A darkness of wind and thunder returned, the storm howl-ing around them. Toren was beginning to feel chill but could not stand beneath the low-hanging rock. He felt the need to move, or he would begin to shiver and stiffen, so he pushed himself out into the weather, rain finding him immediately. It ran in slow, cold streams down his neck and back.

"He's gone…" Elise said, as a peal of thunder faded.

"Gone where, my lady?" Orlem asked.

"I don't know, Orlem. He is traveling away from us, and quickly.""It is not a trick?"A flash of lightning and explosion of thunder interrupted con-versation. The light revealed Elise, still with her sword in the water.

"I don't think it's a trick. Hafydd knows what Sianon could do with water… but even so, I wouldn't wager that he is running."Darkness descended, and when the lightning flashed next, Toren saw Elise, her wet cloak fluttering madly in the ferocious wind, climbing up into the mouth of the gully, which ran deep with water.

"Come!" Orlem called the others. "We can't wait for the storm to subside." He paused, his face changing. "I'm sorry, Eber, but I don't think we can leave you and your son here."Toren and A'brgail took up their position again at the rear of the column, and they went wading and slipping up the raging little stream. Water had risen to midthigh and ran with surprising speed and force down the ravine. Where they could they climbed above it, straddling the torrent, but often there was no purchase, and they had to force their way against the stream. Many times someone slipped and tumbled down on those below, and it was only a won-der that they didn't all end up in a broken heap at the bottom. A'brgail's Knights ended up carrying Eber between them, and Llya rode Baore's broad back, clinging to the Valeman's neck. They waited for each lightning flash, then moved as quickly as they could, trying to memorize a few feet ahead. Once, the heavy clouds parted to reveal the speeding moon, and they all scrambled up as best they could before the clouds shut, stealing the faint light away.

Toren didn't know how long the climb took, but when he reached the top his feet were numb, and he fell down on the tram-pled grass, gasping for breath. The rain continued to batter them without respite. Only Elise and Orlem were on their feet, exploring the ground carefully, wary as animals.

The clouds still raced overhead, a faint blemish of light waxing and waning where the newly risen moon flew. In this faint light Toren could make out Orlem, crouching by the pool.

"Do you see these boot prints?" Orlem asked. He bent low, his face inches from the ground. "They come to the water's edge, but I can't find where they lead away… And these as well.""As though they went into the pool…" Elise said softly, her words snatched away by the wind.

"They must emerge on the other side," A'brgail said, rising with some difficulty.

Orlem beat the knight to the opposite edge, but then he walked around, pausing in each flash of lightning to look closely at the water's edge. "I can't find them," he said after a moment.

At that moment the moon passed through a thin patch of cloud, and Orlem stopped in his tracks.

"The Moon's Mirror" Elise said, and dove into the waters, as graceful as a swan.