Sean Russell - The Shadow Roads

“He is happier with beasts than men,” Uamon said. The old giantrose as they entered and motioned them to the table, where he sat alone. A warmmash of grain was ladled from a steaming iron pot.

“Have you an answer for us, Uamon?” Alaan asked. “There islittle time for what we must do.”

“Time chases all of us,” Uamon said. “But I have duties tothe Dubrell that cannot be ignored. I know you not, Alaan, but that you havecome from afar where few men travel. Enemies followed you-evil men, perhaps.And you go now to the south into lands of mist and fear. This concerns theDubrell, for our southern border is threatened by strange beasts that appearonly on the darkest nights. Our people there fall victim to sickness anddespair. Some have gone mad. Shall I send strangers there? Strangers who knowsomething of magic?” He drank from a steaming cup. “You seek knowledge you say.A noble endeavor. A spell decays, you tell us, and soon the world will beoverrun.” He fixed his troubled blue eyes on Alaan. “If we did not struggleagainst dark creatures, I would not believe you.” His gaze wandered to thesleeping wolf. “But perhaps you have been sent to aid us, to deliver us, for inthe long war against the night we are losing.” His eyes seemed to glisten alittle, but then he returned his attention to Alaan. “If you will take Wolfsonwith you, I will grant you leave to cross our lands.”

Alaan drew in a long breath and placed his fingertipstogether. “To the southern border of your own lands-I have no objection to hisaccompanying us-but there he must return.”

Uamon nodded. “Agreed.”

Alaan looked over at Tam, not hiding his misgivings. Heturned his gaze back to the giant. “Wolfson must understand-I will not toleratehis interfering in my duties.”

Uamon did not look away. “Nor will Wolfson tolerate your endangeringour people.” The two stared a moment more, then both looked away. The rest ofthe meal was eaten in silence.

The outsiders were soon carrying their bags and weapons downinto the courtyard. Tam wanted to ask about the men who had arrived so late atnight, but followed Alaan’s example and said nothing.

Wolfson had their mounts saddled and waiting in thecourtyard. The great gate creaked open, and Stonehand waved to them from thetop of the wall. Wolfson did not ride-it would have taken a Fael horse to bearhis weight-but Tam remembered that his stride was long. On his back the giantcarried a pack, and in his hand a staff. A sword swung at his side, and fromhis pack hung a massive iron helm. They filed out, Wolfson waving to Stonehand.

Off to their right, in the shadows of the trees, Tam sawmovement.

“Wolves,” Crowheart said. “But do not be concerned, you arewith me.” He glanced over at the giant who plodded along beside him. “And I’msure Wolfson would not let us come to harm.”

Tam nodded. Not that armed men should normally fearwolves-but he had seen what the pack had done to Hafydd’s spies the previousday.

The path led down into the trees, the birds all aroundsinging of morning. The grass was damp with dew, and the air stillmountain-cool. Tam looked back once where a hole in the trees opened up, andthere on the wall of the keep he thought he saw another standing besideStonehand-someone who did not reach the giant’s shoulder.

“So who were those men who came last night?” Tam called toAlaan. “The Dubrell did everything they could to keep us from knowing they werethere.”

“So they did,” Alaan answered. He slowed his horse a littleso that Tam caught up.

“What did you mean when you said they would only needsur-coats if they were fighting men?” Tam asked, a little afraid of the answer.

Alaan did not respond immediately. They rode on through thepure mountain morning, the light playing down through the trees. “You heardUamon talking about a threat to the south. I don’t think the Dubrell arefrightened of men, somehow. Their numbers are small, but they are formidablewarriors. I have seen what Slight-hand could do-how he could turn the tide of abattle all by himself. No, the giants are fighting something else. And thesemen who came last night, these men who carry the token of the Knights of theVow, they are the Dubrell’s allies. That is what I think. I have seenbattle-hardened men-at-arms many times, and these men were so hardened. But Isomehow doubt that Lord Toren’s friend, A’brgail, knows of their existence.”

“It’s as though the past has come back to haunt us,” Tamsaid.

“Yes,” Alaan answered. “One would think time would be a moreeffective barrier, but it has not proven so.”

As they rode down into the green valley below, Tam could seeribbons of smoke spiraling up above the trees, but no villages or buildingscould he find. On the lake’s west shore he could see fields of irregularshapes, one spotted with the dark forms of cattle, but there were no othersigns of men-or Dubrell.

They made reasonable time, and despite the urgency of Alaan’scommission, the company did not seem to hurry. It was as though the threat thatlurked to the south paralyzed them a little, slowing their pace.

Tam found himself taking pleasure in the day, in the flightof birds or in the patterns made by sunlight falling on the forest floor. Hecould see why the Dubrell loved their valley, and it was some time before heremarked its great similarity to the Vale of Lakes. Though of course the Valehad many more fields and small villages and roads. This valley hardly appearedto be inhabited at all.

When Tam pointed this out to Alaan, the traveler answered, “Thevalley stretches far to the west, where there are villages and much farming.That’s why I chose to come by the north pass. I thought we might slip throughwithout being noticed, but luck did not favor us.”

They rode that day through the valley, which appeared to bea place of peace and quiet beauty. Fynnol, however, didn’t look at peace; nordid he seem to notice the beauty around him. When Tam commented on thesimilarity between this valley and their own, Fynnol barely raised his head tolook but only nodded and fell back to brooding.

Cynddl was equally quiet and troubled, though Tam suspectedit had little to do with any events of that day or even anxiety about thefuture. He had seen his friend look this way before-the stories of this placedisturbed him, and there was no place where he could hide from them. Tam hadcome to realize that the life of a story finder was not enviable. For everystory that rose from the ground like a gift, there were many that rose likecadavers, disturbing and best left unknown. The stories of men were too oftenstories of war and treachery, greed and revenge. Cynddl had once told him thatstories of love did not linger and last the way stories of hatred or violencedid-as though the intensity of the emotions sustained the stories over time. Tamwanted to believe that love would be stronger than hatred, but it appeared notto be so.

Wolfson drifted apart from them as they traveled, and nowand then Tam would catch a glimpse of him striding beneath the trees, a wolf ortwo gamboling about his heels.

And to think, Tam found himself ruminating, they had set outto travel a fortnight on the river to buy horses upon which to ride home. Thathad been their idea of an adventure-the adventure of a lifetime! He suspectedthat if he lived to tell his story in the Vale, none would believe him. No,that was not true: his grandfather would believe.

Evening brought them to the base of a wooded hill that stoodout from the terrain around like a massive burial mound. They filled theirdrinking skins from a spring that Wolfson knew.

“It is a good place to camp,” the giant said, crouchingbefore the spring. The water splashed out of a cleft in the rock and fell intoa diminutive pool, bordered by large, flat stones, no doubt placed there byWolfson’s people. Darkness was perhaps an hour off, and already the mountainswere casting long shadows over the green valley. “There is a often a cool windfrom the north at night. Air sweeping down off the mountains.”