Sean Russell - The Shadow Roads

Cynddl laughed, always appreciative of a quick wit. “Wemight comfort ourselves that they’re single beds,” he offered.

Alaan climbed into one of the massive chairs by the hearthin the room’s center.

“What do you make of these giants?” Cynddl asked him. Thestory finder rose and went to stand with his arm resting on the back of thesecond chair. “Given that the hidden lands have seemed almost empty of people,I’m surprised at how suspicious they are. Who could they possibly be fightingagainst?”

Alaan glanced up at the Fael, and then back at the waveringflames. “I’m not sure, Cynddl, but they fear things that come from the south.The Kingdom of Death is not distant. If the spell that walls Death in isfailing, then they no doubt have reason to be fearful and suspicious. TheDubrell are tied to the lands hereabouts and will not easily be driven off, butwhat exactly is going on I cannot say. It was such a long time ago that Orlemdwelt here. Much has changed. You should all sleep. We’re safe here, and youmight not have that luxury again for some time.”

Tam lay awake for a time, even after the candles had beenblown out. He finally drifted off as Alaan left his chair by the fire andsought his own bed.

He didn’t know how much time had passed, or what woke him,but he found himself aware in the darkness. The fire had burned down to embers,and a faint light of stars or moon illuminated the window. The even breathingof the others reassured him a little: no one else had been wakened. But then heheard a horse nicker.

He was at the window in an instant, staring down into thecourtyard below. At first he thought their horses were being taken, then herealized that riders were dismounting-perhaps a dozen of them, it was hard totell in the faint light. He could see one of the giants holding a lantern aloftand armed men going purposefully about their business.

And they were men, for they didn’t reach the giant’sshoulder. Some led horses into the stables, and others went silently to a doorin the lower part of the building.

“What is it?” Alaan asked, propping himself up in bed.

“A company of riders,” Tam said, pulling on breeches anddrawing his dagger from its sheath.

Alaan rolled out of his bed onto his feet, silent as astone. He was at the window instantly, hands resting on the ledge.

“Have the Dubrell betrayed us?” Tam whispered.

“Perhaps. Wake the others.”

They barricaded the door into the room with the massivechairs, and all waited silently. Their weapons had been left in the entrybelow, out of courtesy, and all they had were daggers and the fireplace poker.

“What of Crowheart?” Cynddl asked.

“Stay quiet and listen,” Alaan said. But there was nothingto be heard.

Alaan lit a candle, and they pulled the chairs away from thedoor. In the hallway they found no one.

Alaan balanced on the balls of his feet, his every attentionconcentrated on listening. “Tam?” he whispered. “Come with me. You two stayhere and open the door to no one until we return. If you are threatened, youmight have to go out the window.”

Alaan held the candle high as they made their way along thehall and down the steps, the treads set at almost double the height of thesteps Tam was accustomed to.

The large chamber where they had dined was empty but forCrowheart, who sat cross-legged by the prostrate wolf. The healer made nosounds, but stayed perfectly still, his eyes closed.

“Rabal?” Tam whispered. “Rabal …?”

“Leave him,” Alaan said. “He is in a healing trance andshould not be roused unless we’re threatened.”

In the entry they found their weapons still leaning againstthe wall. Alaan sheathed his dagger and straightened up, for he had beenhalf-crouched, like a man about to do battle.

“Whoever these men are, I think they’re no threat to us.”

Tam was reassured by the sight of their weapons, which hadclearly not been disturbed.

“But what goes on here?” Tam whispered. “Who are they?”

Alaan shook his head. “I don’t know, Tam. The Dubrell havesecrets, that is certain.”

Alaan opened the door and looked out. The courtyard wasempty, lit only by the last sliver of moon, the ancient light of the stars. Heled the way out into the cool night and down the giant stairs. In the courtyardthey found barely a sign that the riders had been there. And then Tam saw afaint gleam on the cobbles and bent to retrieve a small object.

“What is it?” Alaan whispered.

“I don’t know. It’s too dark to tell.”

Alaan looked into the dark stable, but there was little tobe seen there without light, and they hadn’t brought a candle lantern. Theywere up the cold stairs and inside in a moment.

By the fire, Crowheart sat unmoving. Tam paused for a momentin the doorway. He could see the even rise and fall of the wolf’s chest, and hewas certain it slept peacefully. Whatever magic Crow-heart was performingseemed to be working.

They slipped up the stairs, and the others let them backinto their barracks, where it seemed warm after the cold of the courtyard.Cynddl and Fynnol looked anxiously at their companions as they returned.

“Who are these men?” Cynddl whispered. “What do they wanthere?”

“I don’t know,” Alaan answered, shaking his head. He wentand warmed his hands by the fire. “Clearly they are friends or allies of theDubrell.”

“I didn’t know that men traveled through the hidden lands exceptby accident,” Fynnol said. He dropped to his knees before the fire, which hadbeen built up again in their absence. Tam could see that his cousin wasunsettled, wakened from sleep to find himself threatened.

“There are a few who can find their way here, Fynnol,” Alaansaid. “Crowheart is one. But for the most part, what you say is true.”

Tam remembered the small object he had found and fished itfrom a pocket. He moved to the hearth so that the light shone upon it.

“So, what is that, Tam?” Alaan asked.

“It appears to be a small broach. Oak leaves, I think.”

He passed it to Cynddl, who knew more of trees and plantsthan the rest of them combined.

Cynddl turned it over in the firelight. “It’s a fan ofsilveroak leaves.” He looked up at Alaan. “Didn’t you tell us, the night we metby Telanon Bridge, that a fan of silveroak leaves was the token of the Knightsof the Vow?”

Alaan held out his hand. He examined the silver ornamentcarefully, turning it over in his hand several times.

“That is the token of the Knights,” he said at last. Helooked up at the others, his face dark with concern or confusion. “Did thesemen wear the gray robes,Tam?”

“No, they were all differently dressed. Nor was their armormade to a pattern.” Tam tried to call up a picture of what he’d seen of the menin the courtyard. “Some wore surcoats, and others did not. I saw no devicesupon the shields, nor did they bear standards.”

“That is strange,” Fynnol said thoughtfully. “In a battle itis easy to kill your own men if they’re not clearly marked.”

“Yes,” Alaan said, “if you’re fighting men.”

He went about in a barrow . Beatrice Renne could notget that thought out of her mind. He looked a bit like a hog as well; round andsoft of flesh, his pate bald, and skin of pinkish hue. But he had saved thelife of Lord Carral Wills, and for that she would allow a man in a barrow intoher hall, and treat him with all the goodwill such a deed deserved.

“It is a story that will surely be made into song,” Beatricesaid. “Certainly it shall. How you found each other, then managed to get offthe Isle without being discovered either by the men of Innes or the manysearchers that Kel sent out …. It is almost miraculous.”