The Shadow Roads

Fifteen

By morning the sun threw aside the covering of cloud andemerged full and round and filled with warmth. The birds sang songs to itsgrandeur and the high, green valley of the Dubrell sparkled with the night’srain. Beneath the sun the travelers began to dry, and by midmorning theirspirits had lifted after the events of the previous night.

“There are no end of secrets here, it seems,” Fynnol said,as they stopped to let their horses drink from a rain-swollen stream.

Tam thought his cousin looked less haunted that day. Itseemed to him that Fynnol had begun to think Death had singled him out andsought him relentlessly. But he had escaped the darkness again and now slouchedin the sunlight beside the little creek. He almost looked at peace, as thoughhe’d passed through the Lion’s Maw again, and the river that stretched outahead was slow and calm.

Cynddl stood on the shore, his horse stretching its headdown into the cool waters. Gray-haired and pale, Cynddl looked like an outsiderdressed in Fael clothing. He also looked much older than his thirty-someyears-older than when Tam had met him near Telanon Bridge in the far north,that was certain. The story finder stared into the waters, his face grim andhis manner distant. Who knew what stories he found in such places? It seemed anywheremen had made their dwellings tales of war and treachery abounded. And men livedhere, in this land of the giants. Men led here by Orlem Slighthand eightgenerations past: Knights of the Vow, it seemed. And now they wanted to returnto the land of their ancestors. If they only knew what a place of strife thatwas!

“How far is it now to the border?” Fynnol asked. He rose tohis feet and walked up the stream a few paces, bending to drink from cuppedhands, the clear water dripping through his fingers.

“We will come to the edge of our lands tomorrow evening,”Wolfson answered. “Beyond that we do not travel.” The giant knelt on a rock atthe stream’s edge, as though someone so large could not easily bend down. “Wherehas the healer gone?” he asked. “Where is Crowheart? We should stay closetogether. These lands are no longer safe.”

“He went into the wood,” Alaan said. “Leave him be. He isprotected by his guardian crows.”

A sudden furious cawing brought Alaan to his feet.

“Quiet!” he ordered.

The sound of a horse cantering sounded through the wood, andAlaan had a sword in hand. A moment later a rider appeared. He was the youngestof the men-at-arms who had found them the night before. His horse made a dashfor the stream, and the young man sawed at the reins to turn it away. Winningthe short struggle, he then almost tumbled off the horse from apparent exhaustion.Wolfson took the animal by its bridle.

Cynddl steadied the young man, who looked ready to drop.

“Don’t let my horse drink too much,” the rider gasped.

Indeed the horse was slick with sweat, wild-eyed and dancingback and forth. Crowheart came out of the trees and immediately took the horsefrom Wolfson, leading it in a slow circle, letting it drink a little, thenwalking it again. Almost immediately the beast grew calm and docile.

The young rider had collapsed at the stream’s edge and drunkhis fill. He sat back, his legs stretched out, hands out behind to offersupport. His face was red, and he still gasped for breath.

Wolfson crouched beside him. “I fear to ask the reason youhave ridden your horse to exhaustion, Wil. What has happened?”

“Men forced their way through the north pass. The men whowere pursuing the strangers.” He glanced up at Alaan. “They had knowledge ofthe arcane. That’s how they drove the sentries back.” He stopped to catch hisbreath, as though a few words had taken it all away. “My company are huntingthem now, but there must be a sorcerer among them-”

“Hafydd!” Tam said.

Alaan shook his head. “He has matters more important.”

The giant had crouched by the rider, but he jumped up now. “Weshould go back and help the Knights,” he said, taking up his pack and swingingit in an arc over his shoulder. It thumped into place, and he groped behind forthe other strap.

“We won’t go back,” Alaan said, and Wolfson turned on him, glaringdown at the much smaller man. But Alaan did not blanch. “We won’t go back,” hesaid again. “Our task lies to the south.”

“But what of the riders?” Wolfson argued, still staring downat Alaan.

Tam knew that he would have been intimidated under such astare.

“You go, if you must,” Alaan said, “but I can’t afford tofeel compassion for these riders. Not now. You don’t know what’s at stake.”Alaan spoke to the others. “We must ride.” But then he turned back to the youngman, who still sprawled on the ground. “I thank you for your warning, Wil, butI can’t help you now. My war is with the southern kingdom and its allies in alllands.”

Alaan put a foot in a stirrup and swung up into the saddle.The boy had gained his feet by then, and taken the reins of his horse fromCrowheart. He watched as the strangers crossed the stream and faded among thetrees.

“Come back for us!” he called, as they disappeared from hissight. “Do not forget us.”

For a moment Wolfson stood, one foot in the stream, theother on the shore, then he waded quickly through the water and pulled himselfup onto the far bank. Tam saw him look back once at the young rider, who stoodholding his horse, watching the men go. And then the boy was lost to sight, andWolfson came striding up behind, his face red.

A crow touched Tam’s face with the tip of a wing as itsailed by, then landed on its master’s shoulder. Crowheart reached up andstroked its dark neck, and Tam was sure the bird closed its eyes in pleasure.

Tam glanced behind again. They forced their way into thewood without conversation, pressing their mounts at speed. Tam could feel thetension in the company. Hafydd’s minions hunted them again. For him and Fynnoland their Fael friend this was a return of the nightmare. They had been lucky tosurvive their journey down the River Wynnd, ignorant as they were then. Theyhadn’t even known why they were being hunted.

The trees opened up, and they rode through tall grass, thetufts waving in the breeze, tapping the horses on their flanks. Tam foundhimself behind Crowheart.

“Rabal?” he said. “Why have you come on this journey?”

What he had wanted to say was, Why do you risk your life?but this had seemed impertinent.

Crowheart lifted his shoulder and brushed the crow off. Ittook to the air with a soft, cawing complaint. Rabal turned to look at Tam, hisblack eyes peering out from behind the sea of dark hair, the bushy brows, thebeard that grew high up his cheeks. “I come for the same reason as you, Tam,”he said, “to find out who I am.” Crowheart spurred his horse and rode ahead.

Tam had tried to answer, to say, But I know who I am,but no words had come.

“Keep up, now,” came Wolfson’s voice from behind, and Tampressed his horse on.

The giant had taken up this rear position, watching behindfor the men who had forced the north pass. His great staff thumped the groundat each step, resounding like a falling log. Tam had taken to listening, tryingto find any noise of pursuing horses above the sound of their own mounts.

The sky appeared to thicken, a thin gray paste spreadingover the high vault, uniform and oppressive. Wind came from the north, givingvoice to the lands around. High overhead, eagles soared against the gray.Occasionally Tam would see wolves trotting through the trees or the long grass.Twice they came upon herds of cattle being moved by a pair of giants. Thecattle seemed to pay no heed to the wolves, to Tam’s surprise. The giantsstared at the strangers and waved at Wolfson, who stopped to warn them of theriders-or so Tam assumed.

An hour before sunset Alaan stopped them and built a fireamong the trees on the crest of a hill. It was a good place to camp-easilydefended-but when Tam went to unsaddle his horse Alaan stopped him.

“We won’t camp here,” he said.

They built the fire up, raising a berm of dark earth aroundit to stop its spread. When this was done, Alaan led them on into the gatheringgloom. They made camp in almost total darkness sometime later. No fire waskindled there, and they ate a cold supper of bread and smoked meat. Alaanpicked the places for each man to make his bed-a small depression in theground, the shadow of a bush-so that none was easy to see in the darkness.Watches were chosen, and Tam drew the first, which he would stand withCrow-heart. How they would know the time to call the next watch Tam did notknow, for the stars couldn’t be seen.

“If we have fortune on our side, the men hunting us willfind the fire and wait until it has burned low before they approach. That iswhat any wise man would do-wait until it is very late before they attack. Bythen it will be very hard to follow our tracks.”

Alaan had again brought them to a hilltop for the night,though this one was much larger-not a mound like the last had been. To thenorth there would be a clear view in daylight, though it was nothing but a seaof darkness that night.

Tam strung his bow and put his quiver where he could easilyput his hand on it. He and Crowheart settled themselves on the ground in aplace where they could both look to the north and watch over theircompanions-had there been any light!

“I can see nothing,” Tam whispered.

“We shall have to trust to our ears this night,” Crowheartanswered. “But don’t make enemies out of the wind sound, or the creaking of atree.”

Easily said, Tam thought, but he knew that when onelistened hard enough every sound became a threat. Instead he found himselffighting to keep his eyes open and slipping into near dreams, his mindwandering to fanciful things. Crowheart began to snore softly. Tam reached out andput a hand on Rabal’s arm, the leather of his jacket cool in the night-butCrowheart did not stir.

Tam stood and gave his head a shake, moving his arms andshoulders to work the kinks out. The clouds had thinned, he realized, and hazystars began to surface. A faint landscape began to appear: areas of darknessand dull gray. Tam could hardly tell what might be hillside or wood.

And then he thought he saw a light flicker. Tam rubbed hiseyes and looked again. It wasn’t a firefly.

“Rabal!” he whispered, shaking the man’s shoulder. Finally,he tugged on his beard, and Crowheart stirred. “There is a light below.”

Crowheart scrambled up. Tam could barely see him in thedark, looming to the right-larger and more solid than Tam, like a mound ofshadow. “I see nothing,” Crowheart said, after a moment.

“No, it was there. I’m sure of it.” Tam searched thedarkness, trying to find the flickering light; but after a moment he was nolonger sure where in the massive darkness he had seen it.

For a long while they stood, staring into the night.Crowheart began to shift from one foot to the other. Even Tam started to wonderif it had only been his imagination. And then it flickered again.

“There! Do you see?”

“A torch,” Rabal said softly. “I’ll wake Alaan.”

“No need,” came a voice from behind. “Not with all the noiseyou two are making.”

Alaan came and stood to the other side of Tam. The flamewould flicker into existence for the briefest second, then disappear again fora long moments.

“I think Rabal is right-it’s a torch. And whoever carries itis following our track. They might be giants, or the Knights who are theirallies, but I think we should assume they are allies of Hafydd.” Alaan stoppedas the light appeared again for an instant. “They’re not so far off. Can youwake the others, Rabal?”

“What shall we do?” Tam asked. “Shall we saddle the horses?”

Alaan was very still in the darkness, staring out over thevalley below. “No, best to meet them here. The wind is in the north, so thesmell of our horses will not reach them. We’ll go down the hillside a little… and prepare a surprise for them.”

Tam heard his companions stirring as Rabal found each ofthem in the dark. They pulled on boots and took up their weapons-weapons thathad been set out where they would come easily to hand.

Fynnol appeared at Tam’s elbow, the Valeman recognizable inthe dark by his size-the smallest of them. He shifted about, unable to keepstill.

“How many are there?” Fynnol whispered.

“I don’t know. No more than we saw chasing us.”

Fynnol nocked an arrow, though clearly whoever bore thetorch was still far beyond range of their bows. “But was that rider right? Isthere a sorcerer among them? Could it be Hafydd?”

“Alaan doesn’t think it likely. Nor do I. Hafydd wasn’tamong them when they pursued us to the north pass. He couldn’t have found hisway into the hidden lands alone. He hasn’t that gift.”

“I hope you’re right,” Fynnol said, his voice squeezing outof a dry mouth.

Cynddl came and instinctively stood beside Fynnol so that thelittle Valeman had a friend to either side. Tam could sense Wolfson in thedark, standing still as a mountain.

“We’ll let them come partway up this slope,” Alaan said. “Thereis a little break in the trees. Do you see? That patch of gray not far below?”

Tam was not absolutely certain that he did. He glanced up atthe sky, where the stars stood out, cool and bright. Even starlight would help.

“Quiet now,” Alaan whispered. “We don’t want them to know we’rehere.”

Tam nocked an arrow and pulled back against the bowstring,getting the feel of it. His own mouth went dry, and his breath came in short,quick gasps. It did not matter that he had been in such situations before, hestill felt fear wash through him like a cold wave.

The torch appeared, flickering dull orange. Black, bittersmoke drifted up to them. Tam thought he could make out shadows moving in thedull light-men and horses. A thought occurred to Tam.

“How do we know these aren’t the knights who came to ouraid?” he whispered to Alaan.

Before the traveler could answer, a horse nickered down thedraw, and one of their own mounts answered.

The shadows below stopped, then scurried into hiding. Thetorch was doused.

“Does that answer your question?” Alaan said softly. “Theywill try to come upon us with stealth, maybe work their way around to the eastor west.”

“To the west lie bluffs,” Wolfson whispered in his deeptones. “Some might climb them by day, but not by night. If they find their wayto the east, the hill will channel them up a little draw. Some of us couldawait them there.”

“We are a small enough company as it is without dividing ournumbers further,” Alaan said, and Tam could hear the concern in his voice.

“Then we will await them here,” the giant said, “where theymay come at their leisure.”

“How far to this draw?” Alaan asked.

“Only a little distance,” the giant said. “Less than a stone’sthrow.”

Alaan was quiet a moment, and Tam could almost feel himweighing the different options. “Here,” he said, “help me with this stone.”

Tam could just make out the dark forms of Alaan and Wolfsonbending over a large boulder. They broke it free of the ground and sent ittrundling down the slope, the sound of shattering branches following as itwent. Curses were heard below as men scurried to get clear of the boulder bearingdown on them out of the darkness.

“Go back!” Alaan called. “Go back while you still live!”Then quietly to the others he said, “There. Now there is no doubt what theyface. They will not be such damn fools as to come up this way. Fynnol, stayhere with Rabal and watch. Shout if you need us. Everyone else follow Wolfson.We shall see this draw.”

The stars shone a meager light down beneath the trees, andthe men stumbled over rocks and roots as they followed Wolfson’s great shadowthrough the wood. Tam started as the giant’s small pack of wolves appeared outof the night, gamboling around their master. But then they must have caught thescent of the men below, and they slunk along silently, growling low.

“Here,” Wolfson whispered.

Tam could see little-shadows overlaid by shadows-and allshapes seemed strange. The ground under his feet was soft with grass andmosses, and a wind whispered up the hillside, carrying the scent of pine andspruce, the fecund floor of the forest. An area of greater darkness yawed openlike the mouth of the wood. Perhaps this was Wolfson’s draw.

“But I can see nothing,” Cynddl complained.

“My wolves will warn us of their approach,” the giant said, “ifwe don’t hear them stumbling and gasping up the draw.”

Tam crouched, an arrow ready. He tried to quiet hisbreathing so that he might hear the slightest sound. The leaves battered together,and a hollow breeze hissed through the wood. An owl hooted three times, and faroff he heard a wolf howl.

And then the sound of a rock rolling, thumping over otherstones, before coming to rest. A muttered curse.

Tam pulled back his bowstring a little, feeling it bite intohis calloused fingers. A smell stung his nostrils-like metal being forged.

He heard the others sniffing the air. A dull light seemed toseep up from among the underwood below. Faintly, trees and bushes wereilluminated. He drew his bowstring back, aiming down the narrow draw. Certainlysomeone would appear with a torch … but what he saw did not seem to betorchlight.

A dim, glowing snake of silver wound around the roots a halfdozen paces below. And then another. It seemed to branch and flow upward, likemolten metal.

“Quicksilver!” Alaan cursed. “Up into the trees!” He turnedand in three steps had thrown himself up into the crook of an oak. He did notstop there but scrambled frantically higher, shaking the branches as he went.

Tam stood for a moment, entranced, as the quicksilver wovein and out among the rocks and roots, it branched and swirled and joined again.

Cynddl grabbed Tam’s arm and pulled him nearly off balance.

“Do as Alaan says!” the story finder hissed.

Even giant Wolfson dragged himself up into a tree. Tam andCynddl followed suit, just as a snake of quicksilver seemed to dart at Tam’sboot. It went after the wolves then, who watched it, mystified. It touched thepaw of one and the wolf leapt back, howling in pain. The pack was off then,tearing into the dark, snakes of silver coiling through the wood after them.

Men came pounding up the draw, swords at the ready. Tam sawthey were careful not to step on the strands of silver that twisted aroundtheir feet.

An arrow flashed, and one man staggered, plunging a handinto the quicksilver trying to balance. He screamed like he’d thrust his handinto molten iron. Up he leapt, but it was too late. The quicksilver spread uphis arm, and he danced in a circle, screaming.

Tam shot the man coldly in the throat, and he fell back, tumblingslowly over and over down the long slope.

It was over in a trice. Arrows shot out of the trees, andthe dozen men were quickly driven back. Scrambling to avoid arrows, men steppedinto the quicksilver, and the wood echoed with their screams.

The cold heat of the quicksilver soon dissipated, and Alaanswung down from his branch, boots thumping onto the forest floor.

“Quickly!” he whispered, “before they regroup. We must begone!”

Tam stumbled off into the darkness after the traveler,glancing back every few feet, fearing that a silent tendril of quicksilverchased him. That it would coil around his leg and drag him down, screaming.