Sean Russell - The Shadow Roads

She thought Lord Carral looked rather improved by this unexpectedexpedition across country. A healthy color suffused his face, and he appearedto have been somewhat strengthened by his ordeal. Certainly his carriage wasmore erect. Perhaps it had merely taken his mind away from the loss of hisdaughter, and that would not be a bad thing. She herself had struggled muchwith the loss of her nephew, Arden-and his part in the plot against Toren hadonly made it harder. Though, of course, he had acted honorably in the end. Itwas a small comfort, but she clung to it all the same.

The evening was warm, but they sat by the cold hearth-therewere many things that one did not discuss by open windows, after all, no matterhow close the night. Lord Carral was dressed in Fael clothing, and she thoughtit became him in some way, though of course he did not have the night-blackhair or the dusky, silken skin.

She glanced at his companion again and had to cover her revulsionwith a gracious smile. “I cannot begin to tell you how grateful I am, goodKai. Anything we might do to repay, you have only to ask …”

The legless man smiled at her in return-not an entirely appallingsmile, she thought.

Carral shifted in his chair, clearly a little uncomfortable.

“There is a greater tale to tell,” the minstrel said. “But Idon’t know how we should even begin, for it is such a fantastic story …” Hepaused, a hand rising to his forehead, which he massaged gently. “We havespoken, Lady Beatrice, about this man-the ‘ghost’ who came to me in BraidonCastle.”

“This is the man, Alaan. The sorcerer?”

“Yes, though it seems the name Alaan is not quite correct either.You see, he made a bargain with a nagar.”

“A river spirit?” Lady Beatrice asked. She kept her face completelyneutral at this news. She was prepared to listen to any kind of story fromCarral Wills at that moment, so happy was she to see him safe.

“I don’t know if that would completely describe thisparticular nagar, for this nagar had once been the son of a great sorcerernamed Wyrr, from whom came the river’s ancient name.”

Lady Beatrice felt herself nod, willing Lord Carral to goon. “And what, exactly, do you mean, ‘he made a bargain’?”

“I don’t know quite how to describe it, or if I evenunderstand it. In return for power and knowledge he allowed this spirit … toenter him in some way.”

“You mean he is possessed by it?”

“That is not precisely true, if you don’t mind me saying so,”the legless man interjected. “It is a bargain. The man gives part of his lifeto the nagar, the nagar’s memories and some portion of its personality becomepart of the man.”

“It sounds horrifying!” she said, with some feeling.

Kai nodded agreement to this sentiment.

“So he is not really Alaan, but some conjoining of these twosouls-Alaan and …”

“Sainth.” Carral said. “The youngest son ofWyrr.”

“But have the children of Wyrr not been dead for centuries?The stories are very old and not widely believed.”

“A thousand years Sainth has been gone,” Kai said, “but notdead. His father sustained him in the river.”

“But the father, Wyrr, did he not die in some even moredistant age?” Lady Beatrice wondered why she was asking such questions. Thissounded like the stuff of old ballads.

“He did not die,” Kai said quickly. “He went into the river-joinedhis spirit to it in ways we cannot understand. Ever since he has dwelt in thewaters, sleeping, perhaps, but not dead.”

“Then this Sainth is risen again?”

“In a way. Certainly he no longer dwells in the river.”

Lady Beatrice nodded, though she did not really understand.

“Sainth, the youngest son ofWyrr, was given a gift by his father-theability to travel paths no others could find.”

“Yes,” Beatrice said. “I remember some of the old songs. Wasthere not some terrible price for this?”

“He could never find a place that brought him comfort,” Kaisaid, “a woman whom he thought beautiful enough. There might always be somefairer place, a woman more lovely. His siblings were equally cursed, thoughthey chose to be great warriors-the brother wanting to be obeyed out of fearand the sister to be loved and served by all she met. These two fought afterWyrr went into the river, and the One Kingdom was broken. Eventually the eldestson, Caibre, murdered his brother through treachery and made war on his sister.Those two died when they brought the tower of Sianon down on top of them.”

“And this knight Hafydd, whom we apparently spared, has madea bargain also. That is what’s happened, is it not?” Lady Beatrice was a littlesurprised to hear herself say this, but it suddenly seemed apparent. How elsedid Hafydd come back from the dead?

“Yes. That’s what we believe,” Kai answered. He shifted inhis barrow, which was softened now with fine cushions the Fael had given him. “He’smade a bargain with Caibre. It can be no other.”

“There seems to be no end of disturbing news,” Lady Beatricesaid.

“And there is more.” Carral joined both hands upon the headof his cane. He seemed to stare blankly through Lady Beatrice, giving her anodd feeling that she was not there-that her existence was so fleeting it washardly noticed. “Sainth had companions. Men who traveled with him for longperiods-many lives of men, in some cases. The sorcerers were untouched byDeath, or by his ally Time, and those who served them lived very longlives-longer than even the sorcerers likely expected.” He paused a moment. Theonly sound, a candle fluttering. A sprinkle of black dust floated down from thechimney and settled on the iron dogs in the hearth. “Kilydd was such a man, acompanion of Sainth. And beyond all expectations, he still lives.”

“Now, Lord Carral,” Lady Beatrice said. “How can you be sureof this?”

“Because I have met him, and I have met another as well. Aman named Orlem Slighthand, who was celebrated in many songs. And he cannot be mistaken for any other.”

Lady Beatrice sat back in her chair, shaken by Carral’sconfidence. “There have long been rumors that Sir Eremon was a sorcerer, orhad some knowledge of things arcane. And then we began to hear that he wasHafydd, who had once been our ally but who turned against us and was left fordead on a battlefield-a fate of his own making. But now, these things you tellme …. I fear what you might tell me next. These men who were once companionsof Sainth; are they a danger to us?”

“No,” Carral said firmly. “They might in truth be ourallies, and welcome they would be.” Without turning his head or making any kindof gesture, he said, “Kai, who saved my life upon the Isle of Battle, was onceknown as Kilydd, Lady Beatrice.”

A lifetime of training in the social graces would not allowher to laugh, or even to look surprised, but how had this legless man made sucha fool of Lord Carral? Was he really so grateful for being rescued? Perhaps hewas.

“You do not believe me, Lady Beatrice,” Carral said, not disguisingthe disappointment in his voice.

She had forgotten how sensitive he was. His blindness didnot seem to be any hindrance when it came to judging the reactions and feelingsof others. He had divined her reaction from her slight pause.

“I don’t blame you. I should not have believed it myself,but for things that happened while Kai and I made our way across the Isle ofBattle. Like his master of long ago, Kai has the ability to travel paths thatothers cannot find. It was by this skill that we avoided capture by the Prince’smen. And we stopped at the dwelling place of … Is there another in the roomwith us?” he asked suddenly.

“The three of us,” Lady Beatrice said. “Why?”

A little trickle of soot tinkled on the grating, and LadyBeatrice was on her feet of an instant, crossing the carpet as silently as shecould. In the hallway outside stood a guard, and she gestured for him to besilent, leading him back into the room. All the while she continued talking inthe most natural tone of voice as if not a thing were amiss, and Carralfollowed her lead, continuing his story.