FOUR

Scald-crow

Collun woke early, his body stiff from sleeping on the ground. He rekindled the fire. The sky was overcast and the air damp.

When Talisen awoke he gave a loud groan. "My feet hurt, my back hurts, my neck hurts, and I hardly slept a wink." He pulled off his boots and displayed three angry blisters for Collun's sympathy.

"It will only get worse," Collun said, rummaging in his wallet of herbs. He handed Talisen several beech leaves to press against the blisters. "We're at least four weeks from Temair, probably more if we meet bad weather, as I have no doubt we will."

Talisen gave a sudden grin and stuffed his feet back into his boots. "You'll not be getting rid of me that easily. If I have to crawl on my stomach through the gates of Temair, I shall. Temair ... Just think of it, Collun. We shall see the royal dun itself!" He paused, then added with a wink, "I shall no doubt be the queen's favorite bard in no time at all."

"No doubt," Collun replied with a smile. In Inkberrow Talisen was much admired for his musical skill. But Collun had heard that to be a true bard in Eirren one must have the skill for making songs as well as playing them. He knew Talisen had not yet been able to master the art of making songs. He acted as if it did not matter to him, but Collun knew it did.

"So," Talisen said, breaking into Collun's thoughts, "what delicacies have we for breakfast? A little goose flesh, perhaps?"

They supplemented the fowl with small pieces of cheese and bread, and, heating a panful of water from a nearby stream, Collun brewed some chicory tea to wash it all down. After they had eaten, they wrapped the rest of the goose in leaves.

Just as they were about to set out, Collun felt a rush of air on his face. A black shape swept by within inches of his nose. It circled once then settled on the ground a short distance away.

Another scald-crow. Or perhaps it was the one he had seen before. Collun wasn't sure. He could see its eyes this time; they were the color of fresh blood.

The bird appeared to be looking at him, its head cocked to one side. Then it began to move. It took a few steps to the side, flapped its wings, took a few more steps, and then flapped its wings again. It moved in a circle around them, performing a kind of hopping dance.

Talisen had not noticed the bird. Collun laid a hand on his shoulder and pointed, feeling he should not speak aloud.

"What is it?" Talisen's voice broke the eerie quiet. "What's that bird doing? Must be after our food ... Shoo! Go away!" He waved his hands at the scald-crow.

Collun clutched Talisen's shoulder tightly. "Stop," he whispered. "Something is wrong."

"What? You mean it's injured?"

"No. There is ... danger. I'm sure of it."

Talisen laughed. "You're in a state, aren't you? It's just a bird. Here, go away, nasty bird." He picked up a charred stick from the campfire and threw it at the scald-crow.

The crow stepped aside easily. Then it turned, trained its eyes on them, and began flapping its wings with a steadily increasing tempo. Suddenly it was airborne and heading straight for Talisen's face.

Collun's blood went cold, but he somehow managed to jerk his shoulders forward in a clumsy thrust, knocking Talisen off balance and toppling him to his knees. The crow sliced by, missing Talisen. But its feathers brushed Collun's forehead as it passed, leaving a line of bitter cold where they touched. Collun rubbed his forehead and watched, dazed and frightened, as the scald-crow sped off, heading north toward Temair.

Talisen heaved himself to his feet, grumbling and brushing himself off.

"Clumsy oaf. What's gotten into you?"

Collun did not reply. His fingers tried to rub some heat back into the numb spot where the scald-crow's feathers had touched him.

"What's wrong? Did it scratch you? I don't see anything." Talisen peered at Collun's forehead.

"Its feathers. They've made my forehead numb."

"What? How could a bird's feathers do that? You're imagining things."

"No, Talisen." Collun's voice shook slightly. "There is something happening ... something I do not understand."

"What are you talking about?"

And so Collun told Talisen about the kesil and about Emer's warning. When he finished, Collun dropped his hand from his forehead. The rubbing had not helped. It still ached with cold.

Talisen was silent for a moment. "Well, there's nothing I like better than a mystery. It's like a riddle, and you know how good I am at riddles," he said with enthusiasm. "If you wish, I will also be careful not to speak of Emer. I wonder why, though," he added with a speculative look.

Collun nodded absently, looking off across the land that lay to the north. "I have decided to go on that way, away from the high road"—he pointed in the direction he was gazing—"as the kesil suggested." Then he looked straight at Talisen, adding, "And I will go alone."

"Don't be an idiot," Talisen replied with a groan. "We have been over this before. I journey with you and let that be the end of it."

Collun shook his head, but he did not protest further. As they left the campsite, Collun thought he heard the harsh call of a bird again, but when he looked around, he saw no sign of one.

***

After leaving the road, they traveled along gently sloping moorland overgrown with bracken, heather, and rushes. The perpetual drizzle did not abate, and by the fifth night their tempers had begun to fray. Collun was unable to kindle a fire. With a disgusted sound Talisen spat a mouthful of stale bread into the rain-soaked grass.

"We have precious little food to be wasting it like that," snapped Collun.

"Here, you can have it all," said Talisen, thrusting his portion of the hard bread toward Collun, who ignored him. Talisen lapsed into a sulky silence.

"I know what we need," Talisen said finally, breaking the silence.

"What's that?"

"A song," Talisen responded with a sudden grin.

He unwrapped his harp from its protective leather covering and examined it with concern to make sure the damp had not harmed it. Satisfied, he touched the strings. A row of clear, true notes sounded, and Talisen's voice, vibrant and deep, filled the damp night.

"Sing cuckoo, cuckoo-o,


The spring is coming-o.


The daffadowndilly, the quince,


and the rose,


Underneath the earth, the tiny


bud grows."

Collun lay back, his wet clothing and cold limbs forgotten for the moment. As he watched the familiar expression of joy that transformed Talisen's face when he played, Collun felt his body relax.

Just as Collun was falling asleep, he thought he heard a bird call out. He remembered the scald-crow and its bloodred eyes. Idly he ran his finger over the line on his forehead where its feathers had touched him. The chill was less but the numbness remained.

He slept fitfully. Sometime in the middle of the night he came fully awake, body sweating and eyes wide open. He had been dreaming of Nessa. She was screaming in horror as a scald-crow pecked at her neck. It took Collun a long time to get back to sleep.

***

When he woke again at dawn he felt jittery and cold, and all that day he kept remembering the dream.

The drizzle that had plagued them for days gradually changed into a hard, wind-driven rain. The sky became so dark that Collun often lost sight of the sun entirely.

As the rain-soaked days began blending into each other, Collun couldn't shake the feeling that they were heading in the wrong direction. The moors became harder to navigate the wetter the ground got and offered no protection from the wind.

Early one evening Talisen came to an abrupt stop, swearing he could not move another step. Looking out over the bleak, rain-swept moor, Collun not very hopefully suggested they find a place to stop and finish the last of their food.

"Look!" exclaimed Talisen.

Collun peered through the gloom and saw what appeared to be a light.

"Come on," urged Talisen. "It must be a farm."

They trudged forward through the rain, every inch of them chilled through. As they drew closer they saw that the light emanated from a long, two-story building with several smaller buildings adjoining it. Just beyond the structures Collun could see a wide road.

With a sinking heart, he realized this was the Traveler's Rest, an inn that served those who journeyed on the high road to Temair. Somehow they had made their way back to the road.

Talisen let out a whoop of pleasure. "Traveler's Rest! I hear they have the finest ale this side of Temair. And warm beds and good food. I think I will survive after all."

Remembering the kesil's words, Collun was on the verge of protesting, but the temptation of hot food and a chance to dry off was too overwhelming to resist. Wearily he followed Talisen in the direction of the brightly lit inn.

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