Sean Russell - The Shadow Roads

“We will make our camp on the hilltop,” Alaan said, waving ahand up the slope.

“But the hilltop will offer little protection from the wind,”Wolfson argued.

“No, but it will offer protection from other things.”

Wolfson stood, rocking from one foot to the other. “Mypeople don’t go up on this hill. It is a cursed place.”

“We will chance superstition,” Alaan said, and led his horsetoward the wooded slope.

It was almost sunset as they crested the mound. There werefewer trees there, and the vantage offered unobstructed views to all points ofthe compass. To the north, rugged mountains and the long valley winding off tothe west. They looked down on the forest from the hill, and into the largemeadows that interrupted the green carpet of trees. Cynddl began pointing andnaming species of trees by the differing shades of green.

Already a cool breeze flowed down from the mountaintops, andthe companions all found cloaks from their packs. Wolfson looked accusingly atAlaan, but the traveler did not seem to notice, or if he did, care. As theothers unsaddled horses and collected firewood, Alaan stood staring off to thenorth, his face grim. One of Wolfson’s small pack of wolves came into campthen, and it took up a place next to Alaan, sitting and staring out over the forestas though it too looked for something.

“What is it, Alaan?” Tam said quietly. He had positioned himselfso that Alaan was between him and the wolf.

“No fire,” Alaan said. “We will stand watches tonight.”

“Are we so close to Death’s kingdom?”

“Yes and no. Our task is too important to risk by complacency.”He turned away and fetched his bow from his saddle, then walked once around thehill, examining the lay of the land, gazing off into the south for a while,where the dark clouds of a storm hung low, obscuring the landscape.

Alaan returned to the others. “If we make camp over here,”he said, pointing to the south, “there is a rock outcropping that will give ussome shelter.”

In a few moments they had established themselves in the leeof a small rock face, out of the worst of the cool wind.

“We might start a fire here after dark,” Alaan said, lookingat the lay of the land. They were in a natural hollow, now, which would likelyhide their fire from anyone below. Smoke, of course, would not be hidden, butby dark in this breeze it would be quickly swept away and hard to see on such ablack night.

“Who is it Alaan fears?” Fynnol asked Tam, as darkness fell.Tam could not see his cousin, but he could hear the concern in his voice.

“I don’t know,” Tam said, “but he is watching the north.”

Indeed, the traveler had posted himself in the brunt of thebreeze and sat, hunched against the wind, staring toward the mountains. Starsappeared, but the moon had not yet risen, and the forest spread out as dark asthe ocean.

Upon the hilltop, the trees bent and creaked to the wind,branches flailing the darkness. Leaves and pine needles whirled by, and thewind whistled eerily from all around.

“Well, it is a good night for a ghost story,” Fynnol said ashe used a flint to fire some tinder. “Cynddl, certainly you must know a goodghost story? Something that will creep into our dreams and wake us all at theslightest noise.”

“I know too many stories that will do that,” the Fael said, “butI think tonight is a night for a different kind of tale.” Cynddl shiftedhimself, warming his legs by the fire, for the wind bore the cold of themountains. “This is an old story of the Dubrell, one that Wolf-son must know.The kingdom to the south has always loomed over the valley of the giants, likea dark, shadowing mountain. Even in more peaceful times the people of thisvalley lived uneasily in that shadow. It ruined their sleep and troubled theirwaking hours. For some it was like a dark place in the mind. A dark place offear that never went away even beneath the midday sun. There were nomonstrosities escaping the southern kingdom then, only the whisperings ofDeath’s servants. To most these whisperings were no more than chill breezes,disturbing one’s sleep. But to others there were words in such breezes-wordsand promises. A group of Dubrell heard these promises and heeded them. Secretlytheir numbers grew-”

“This is a lie!” exploded Wolfson. “None of my people everhad dealings with the southern kingdom!” The giant had risen to his feet andglared down at Cynddl, pointing a massive finger at the story finder. His otherhand went to the hilt of his sword.

“The stories I find are true,” Cynddl said evenly, “whetheryou believe them or not. I apologize if this story disturbs you.”

“I won’t listen to lies!” the giant said, and stormed offinto the night.

Everyone was silent a moment, uncertain what to do, thenCrowheart said, “I would hear the rest of this story.”

“So would I,” Fynnol agreed.

Alaan, who had come to stand just at the firelight’s edge,nodded.

Cynddl composed himself again, his eyes losing focus as helooked within to that place where stories were found. “Secretly their numbersgrew,” he said again, “and they began to whisper among themselves, whisper ofoverthrowing the leaders of their people and making bargains with the kingdomto the south, so they would not have to live in fear. On a moonless night theycame here, where a tower stood-Thollingkep it was called. By deception they hadthe gate opened, and slipped within …”

Tam was no longer staring into the fire, but into thedarkness. He realized that Wolf son stood not far off, listening.

“A terrible fight ensued, but the Dubrell of Thollingkepwere murdered-man, woman … child. A war broke out among the giant folk, along war that finally saw the defeat of the traitors-those who had listened tothe whispers. That is why the Dubrell don’t come here now. It is a cursed placethey say-a haunted place.”

Wolfson appeared out of the darkness. “How did you know thename of this hill?” he asked, his voice quiet now.

“Cynddl is a Fael story finder,” Alaan said. “He can hearthe stories of a place. What he says is true. There is no lying to a storyfinder.”

Wolfson stared at Cynddl a moment.

“That is not the story I’ve heard,” the giant said. “Theelders say that Death sent a plague through the eastern parts of our land, andit swept the children away. He sent emissaries to the elders of these lands,then, and promised to return the children if they would make war on theirbrethren. As a token of his goodwill he sent a child-a single child who haddied, now returned to the living. In their sorrow the fathers took up armsagainst their own people.”

Cynddl shook his head. “That is not the story I have foundhere.”

“Death lets no one go who has passed through the gate,”Alaan said. “No one. I’m sorry.”

Wolfson hung his head a moment. His hand dropped from thehilt of his sword.

A deep blaring note, like a distant horn, came to them then,carried on the wind. Tam barely noted it, but Wolfson pulled himself up,turning his head slowly, listening, completely alert.

“Did you hear that?” the giant whispered. The faltering firelightplayed across his bearded face, now suddenly strained and grim.

“I thought I heard something,” Fynnol said, looking up atthe giant in apprehension. “What made such a sound?”

“A horn,” the giant whispered, still turning his head,seeking sounds on the wind. “There! Again! Did you hear that?”

Tam heard.

Wolfson grabbed his axe.

“Shall we douse the fire?” Cynddl asked.

“No. Build it up!” the giant said as he strode toward astand of saplings. “And find more firewood.”

He began to hack the saplings down and lop off the branches.Alaan took up their own axe and went to the giant’s aid, not even stopping toask questions.