The Shadow Roads

Thirty-one

They traced a small tributary down from the hills andfollowed its turnings through the forest. A silent company: four men, onebeneath a crowd of crows, and a Fael who was neither young nor old.

Late in the afternoon of the third day, they rode out of thewood into river bottom: gardens surrounded by tall lattice fences made ofsaplings covered the open valley. In some gardens, men and women bent overtheir plantings, but all rose to see the strangers riding through. Silently,they watched the outsiders pass, their looks apprehensive, though not hostile.

Half an hour brought them up to a small village, the housesof honey-colored stone, weathered and worn, the roofs densely thatched. Therewas no sign of paint. The door planks were weathered gray, window sashes thesame. But everywhere there were flowers in pots and long troughs, climbingvines and trees in blossom. It was as though the flowers had escaped thefenced gardens and were invading the village, and overgrowing it slowly. Menand women emerged from doorways at the sound of horses. They too staredsilently at the outsiders. Children were captured by their mothers and sentquickly inside.

Crowheart’s winged army swarmed from roof to roof, scoldingthe silent villagers, who shrank from them visibly.

“They are a friendly lot,” Fynnol said to Tam.

“I don’t think they see outsiders often,” Tam answered. “Likeour own people.”

In a few moments Alaan had led them down to a much largerriver, where boats were drawn up on the shore. The crow army settled on thegunwales and on the ground, cawing raucously.

“Baore would like to see this,” Cynddl said. “These boatsare hollowed-out logs.”

Alaan dismounted and raised his hands, palms out, to threemen who were carving designs into a newly made boat. None of the men answered,but only stared, the nearest stepping back.

“Do nothing sudden,” Alaan said quietly to his companions. “Drawno weapons, even if a crowd forms.” He turned to the three men. “I’m Alaan. Ivisited your village once before.”

“We remember you,” one of the shipwrights said. “But thenyou traveled with a whist. Now you bring a company of enchanted crows.”

“You need not fear them,” Alaan said, and smiledreassuringly. “We’ve come to trade horses for a boat.”

If Alaan had proposed “diamonds for dung,” he could not haveprovoked a greater reaction.

They had not taken the best boat in trade-it was too largefor their company-but very nearly. Horses, it seemed, were rare and highlyvalued to the villagers, and they were only too happy to provide a boat andwhatever else the outsiders wanted. It was pretty clear to Tam that the man whotraded for the horses thought he’d taken terrible advantage of the outsiders,and he couldn’t have been happier about it.

The traveler divided the company into two watches, and eachwatch paddled turnabout for the rest of the afternoon, driving the boat south.They were, Alaan told them, on the River Wynnd, or one of its “many branches,”and had a good distance to go. The sun plunged into a range of blue hills, andthe stars appeared among scattered clouds that looked like plaster scraped overthe sky.

“The moon is waning,” Alaan said, “so the night will bedark. But the river is broad and lazy. I think we should try to make some leaguesby morning. We’ll give up paddling, but we’ll have to stand watches. I thinkthe greatest danger will be getting swept up to the shore and running aground,which will slow us-something we can little afford.”

Alaan organized three watches for the night: Tam and Fynnol,Cynddl and Crowheart, and Alaan by himself.

Tam drew the middle watch and made a place for himself tosleep, laying out his bedding and clothes on the floorboards, worn smooth byuse. Settling on his back, he gazed up at the stars, the tar-black sky. Themoon appeared late, drifting up from the eastern horizon, a thin silvercrescent, like the night’s earring.

He thought of Elise Wills, who, Alaan said, was on the riverbefore them. He couldn’t forget the night they had lain in the grass, a softrain falling upon them, though he had hardly noticed. Her kisses had been soknowing, yet at the same time she seemed as awestruck as he by what washappening.

She is both ancient and young, he reminded himself. Heclosed his eyes and felt desire course through him as he remembered Elisemoving beneath him, remembered her cries of pleasure, choked off lest they bediscovered. With these memories drifting through his mind as he fell asleep hewas surprised to be wakened later from a very dark dream.

“Your watch,” Alaan whispered.

Tam could barely make out the traveler in the darkness. Themoon had drifted into the east and was aground, and tilted oddly, on a smallisland of cloud. He sat up and rubbed his eyes, trying to shake off thenightmare. He’d been drowning, but not in water, in some dark air.

“There is cloud in the south-quite black,” Alaan said. “Perhapsa storm coming in off the sea. Be a bit wary. The river can becomesurprisingly rough in a storm.”

Tam roused himself and stood, surveying the night world: theshadow river, glittering here and there with stars and ribbons of moonlight;black embankments and vague hills; stars still thrown high against the night.Here and there floated thin ovate clouds, but in the south Tam could see thegathering storm Alaan had spoken of. Yet it did not look quite right to him.The clouds were dark, but high and thin, tingeing the stars nearby so that theyappeared almost crimson.

“Wake me if there is any trouble,” Fynnol whispered.

Tam prodded his cousin with a toe. “Up, lazy Fynnol. Thereis a sorcerer adrift on the river. We dare not sleep.”

“Sorcerer be damned,” Fynnol whispered in exasperation. “Whathas he to do with me? Let me sleep … just a little more.”

Tam prodded him again, this time not so gently.

“Tamlyn!”

“Up, or it’s a bowl of water next.”

“Ahh!” Fynnol rolled up and sat digging knuckles into hiseyes. “There. Satisfied? You have ruined my perfectly lovely dream. I shallnever have another like it.”

“I’m sure you will have many like it,” Tam said.

“No, I was so … adored. By everyone. Women wanted toshower me with favors-if favors can said to be showered. My every remark wasrepeated over and over. I could not go anywhere but people were courting me. Ah… it was a lovely dream.”

“Better than mine. I was drowning in some dark … air. Ican’t explain it. I was so glad to have Alaan wake me.”

Fynnol stretched his arms out. “Let us hope my dream is prophetic,and yours is not. Ooh! I’m sure this bed is much harder than the beds in mydreams. But then the beds in my dreams were padded with comely women, so I didnot properly notice the mattresses. Hmm … Perhaps another visit to thatwondrous place is in order.”

“Not for three hours, at least. We are on watch. What do youmake of these clouds in the south?” Tam could hardly see his cousin in thedarkness, but was sure he turned to look down the river.

“They seem the ordinary type of clouds. You know, high inthe sky, obscuring the stars. Admirably doing their job, I would say.”

“Yes, but they seem a little … odd to me.” Tam shrugged. “Perhapsyou are right. Ordinary clouds. Alaan thinks it might be a storm coming in offthe sea.”

“We could use a little rain, Tam. I haven’t had a bath orlaundered my clothing in days. Do you notice how much we have come to be likethe animals? Bathing when the rain falls or when we are forced to ford a river.Eating what we can catch. We have become a pack of men. Soon we shall havereverted to the wilds entirely-like the wild men of stories we heard in our youth,appearing one day out of the forest, unclothed, unkempt, snarling and gruntingour idea of wit.”

“Worse things could happen,” Tam said distractedly, a shiverrunning up his back.

“Yes. We’ve seen it,” Fynnol said, suddenly serious. “Ishall never look at a river the same now that I have gazed across the finalriver and into the darkness beyond. Nor will I ever fall asleep withoutthinking of the claws of Death’s servant snatching me up. If not for SlighthandI would dwell in the darkness yet-whatever that would mean. Do you ever wonder,Tam, what lies beyond the final gate?”

“Anyone who is not a fool must wonder at sometime or other.But it is a futile endeavor. Even Alaan does not know.”

“Or so he says,” Fynnol said softly.

Tam looked at the shadow of his cousin in the dark. “What doyou mean?”

Fynnol hesitated a second, perhaps wondering if Alaan’s evenbreathing meant he was asleep. “I felt there was something odd in hisconversation with the swan lady. If stories are to be believed, she livedbefore Death made his kingdom. Back in the age when he was just a sorcerer.Death once loved her, Alaan claims. If anyone knows what lies within Death’skingdom, it is Meer. And who is Alaan but her grandchild-or at least Sainthwas. There seems to be a quantity of family knowledge-kept from meremortals-but known to the descendants of Tusival.”

Tam had not thought of that before, but had to admit thatthere was some ring of truth to it. He remembered the woman they had seen,changing into a swan and back, but beautiful and youthful still. How long hadshe been living there, in that dying wood? How long did it seem to her, tosomeone who did not die? “Did she seem mad to you, Fynnol?” Tam asked.

“No … no, not really. Not in the way that I’ve seenmadness, though I can’t claim any great experience in that matter.”

“She did not seem mad to me, either.”

The Valemen fell silent, the river spinning them slowlybeneath the stars.

“Do you see that cloud?” Tam said. “Is it not drawingnearer? See how much more of the sky it blocks.”

Fynnol stared a moment at the sky. “I think you’re right,though there is precious little we can do about it. We might find a hospitablebit of riverbank in the dark, but we’re just as likely to find cliffs or aswamp. Maybe even a wood of stone trees, as we did before. Who knows what thisriver will offer next.”

“You’re right. We should stay our course till we have somelight, which is still two hours off at least.”

But within the hour the smoke reached them, and it quicklygrew thicker. Tam woke Alaan, and everyone was soon roused by the causticsmell.

Alaan stood, gazing off into the south.

“It is a big fire, I think,” Tam said standing beside Alaan.“Given how few people seem to live in these lands, I would guess it’s theforest burning, not a village or a farmstead.”

“Yes, I’m sure you’re right, Tam,” Alaan said. “But is it anatural fire?” Alaan found his sword, crouched, and pushed the blade into theriver. For a while he stayed like that, still as a hunting heron. “Hafydd andLady Elise are still some distance off and traveling more quickly than we.” Hedried the blade.

The eastern horizon began to brighten, and the sky overheadgrew both lighter and darker at once, as their craft drifted beneath the cloudof smoke. A blackened land appeared around a bend in the river, the very earthcharred to cinder, black skeletal trees standing here and there, many othersfallen, misshapen stumps pushing up like arms broken and burned.

“Well, here is a scene of desolation,” Cynddl said softly.

A lone bird flitted low over the dark earth, landing on acharred stump.

Whist, whist, it called.

“Yes, Jac … it is like a battlefield with death anddestruction all around. One of many where Hafydd has ridden away unharmed,leaving devastation behind. And there will be too many more if he is notstopped, for he has allied himself with monsters, now.”

“Did Hafydd cause this?” Cynddl asked.

Alaan nodded. “So I would say. He tried to slow Sianon …Elise and kill her followers, though I think he succeeded only in the former.Elise is not like Sianon. She will not sacrifice her followers for her ownsafety. Perhaps Hafydd knows this, too.”

“But she is alive …?” Tam whispered.

Alaan looked at him oddly. “Yes,Tam, she is alive. Fear not.”

Here and there flames still flickered, finding some fuel onthe darkened earth. A stand of trees, missed somehow by the all-consumingfire, burned slowly, flame climbing through the branches, which fell away oneby one, spiraling slowly down like torches. No creature stirred in the bleaklandscape. The companions stood up in the boat, gazing at the black hills,rolling back as far as the eye could see.

A shout surprised everyone.

“There,” Crowheart said, and pointed.

A man waved from the shore. He was as blackened as the surroundinglands, his clothes smoke-stained, his face and hair dark as charcoal. Thecompanions maneuvered their craft up to the shore, and the man limped alonguntil he reached their landing spot.

“Alaan!” he said as he came. “Rabal! Tam!” He stopped whenhe realized no one recognized him. “Dease Renne, at your service,” he said, andtried to smile. “I daresay, I look a sight.”

“Lord Dease!” Alaan said, splashing ashore. “What has happenedto you?”

“I was separated from my companions,” he replied, sittingdown on an inky rock. “We had all gone into the river to avoid being turned tocinders. I let go my grip on the boat a moment because the paint had bubbledbeneath my hand and when I turned around, the boats were lost in the smoke.”

Smoke appeared to have worked its way into all the finelines of his face, even into his pores. His hair was singed in places, as werehis clothes, which were in rags.

“I don’t know what happened then, for I seem to have lostconsciousness. I awoke in a little backwater, lying in the shallows, fire allaround me. The bank I was on was not so hot as the other, so I crept alongthrough the shallows. Diving under to avoid the flames and heat. Going as faras I could, then surfacing for a few lungs of smoke before diving down again. Ididn’t expect to survive. It seemed like hours before I was out of the worst ofit. I waited for the fire to move south before I dared follow, and even then I’vestayed to the river, for the land is still hot, with pockets of flame beneaththe fallen trees and underwood. You step down, and flame erupts around you. Notat all safe for travel. I’ve been in the river, but it has not cleaned me, orso my reflection says. I fear I will be smoke-stained for the rest of my life.”

“You’re lucky to be alive at all,” Alaan said. “But tell uswho you were traveling with.”

“Elise Wills and Orlem Slighthand. Your friend Baore is withthem,” he said to Tam, “as are Gilbert A’brgail, Eber, and his son Llya. Mycousin Toren. And Theason came to conn a boat. Some Knights of the Vow andRenne men-at-arms. Perhaps twenty in all, though I have fallen by the wayside.”

“No, you have just moved to the livelier company,” Fynnolsaid. “It is an indication of your superior taste and judgment.”

“But how did you find your way into the hidden lands?” Alaanasked.

Dease shifted on his rock. “Llya, Eber’s son, led us. Hecame to the Fael saying that he knew where Wyrr was buried and could lead usthere.”

“There is always some unexpected twist,” Alaan said. “Wheredid a child learn this skill? And why didn’t he tell us this before? He mighthave saved us a journey.”

Dease shrugged. “He is a child of mystery, that one. Who canclaim to understand him?”

Alaan shook his head. “Come aboard. We have to press on,fire or no.”

“But can we pass the fire?” Fynnol asked. “Will we not beburned?”

“It has burned itself low now,” Alaan answered, digging apaddle into the bank and straining to push them off. “There are some rockyhills not far off. Even Hafydd’s fire will be hard-pressed to find fuel there.”

Dease clambered aboard, rocking the boat as it slowly gainedway.

“I can’t quite believe that I should find a such rough-hewnboat a luxury,” the nobleman said, “but after the last day, it seems the mostcomfortable craft afloat to me.”

“Find yourself a berth, Lord Dease,” Alaan said. “We willneed you to take a turn at the paddles.” Saying that, Alaan dug his own paddleinto the river and sent the log boat quickly south.