Sean Russell - The Shadow Roads

“Set her free,” Tannis said gently.

Adalla turned to the young vision weaver. “Have you not beenlistening?”

“To every word. She will never give in to the monster shebears. She would die first. Set her free. That is my judgment.”

Adalla turned to the silent man who accompanied them, Idath.

“Tannis is right, I think. Sianon would never have urged usto take her life. Lady Elise will win this battle against the creature inside.She is clearly the daughter of Carral Wills, giving no quarter to the darkness.”

Adalla nodded to one of the guards who stood nearby, and hebegan releasing Elise’s chains. Another guard cut A’brgail’s bonds, but hecould not rise for loss of feeling in his legs and was forced to lie a fewmoments more.

Elise stepped free of the chains and down from the pyre,chaffing her wrists. “Would you have burned me?” she asked, confrontingAdalla.

Adalla did not blanch. “Yes, though I would have regrettedit all the rest of my days.”

Elise and the Fael elder stood gazing at each other amoment, then Elise stepped forward and embraced her, as though she were a lostloved one. “I hope you have done the right thing,” she whispered. “I pray youhave.”

By morning the sun threw aside the covering of cloud andemerged full and round and filled with warmth. The birds sang songs to itsgrandeur and the high, green valley of the Dubrell sparkled with the night’srain. Beneath the sun the travelers began to dry, and by midmorning theirspirits had lifted after the events of the previous night.

“There are no end of secrets here, it seems,” Fynnol said,as they stopped to let their horses drink from a rain-swollen stream.

Tam thought his cousin looked less haunted that day. Itseemed to him that Fynnol had begun to think Death had singled him out andsought him relentlessly. But he had escaped the darkness again and now slouchedin the sunlight beside the little creek. He almost looked at peace, as thoughhe’d passed through the Lion’s Maw again, and the river that stretched outahead was slow and calm.

Cynddl stood on the shore, his horse stretching its headdown into the cool waters. Gray-haired and pale, Cynddl looked like an outsiderdressed in Fael clothing. He also looked much older than his thirty-someyears-older than when Tam had met him near Telanon Bridge in the far north,that was certain. The story finder stared into the waters, his face grim andhis manner distant. Who knew what stories he found in such places? It seemed anywheremen had made their dwellings tales of war and treachery abounded. And men livedhere, in this land of the giants. Men led here by Orlem Slighthand eightgenerations past: Knights of the Vow, it seemed. And now they wanted to returnto the land of their ancestors. If they only knew what a place of strife thatwas!

“How far is it now to the border?” Fynnol asked. He rose tohis feet and walked up the stream a few paces, bending to drink from cuppedhands, the clear water dripping through his fingers.

“We will come to the edge of our lands tomorrow evening,”Wolfson answered. “Beyond that we do not travel.” The giant knelt on a rock atthe stream’s edge, as though someone so large could not easily bend down. “Wherehas the healer gone?” he asked. “Where is Crowheart? We should stay closetogether. These lands are no longer safe.”

“He went into the wood,” Alaan said. “Leave him be. He isprotected by his guardian crows.”

A sudden furious cawing brought Alaan to his feet.

“Quiet!” he ordered.

The sound of a horse cantering sounded through the wood, andAlaan had a sword in hand. A moment later a rider appeared. He was the youngestof the men-at-arms who had found them the night before. His horse made a dashfor the stream, and the young man sawed at the reins to turn it away. Winningthe short struggle, he then almost tumbled off the horse from apparent exhaustion.Wolfson took the animal by its bridle.

Cynddl steadied the young man, who looked ready to drop.

“Don’t let my horse drink too much,” the rider gasped.

Indeed the horse was slick with sweat, wild-eyed and dancingback and forth. Crowheart came out of the trees and immediately took the horsefrom Wolfson, leading it in a slow circle, letting it drink a little, thenwalking it again. Almost immediately the beast grew calm and docile.

The young rider had collapsed at the stream’s edge and drunkhis fill. He sat back, his legs stretched out, hands out behind to offersupport. His face was red, and he still gasped for breath.

Wolfson crouched beside him. “I fear to ask the reason youhave ridden your horse to exhaustion, Wil. What has happened?”

“Men forced their way through the north pass. The men whowere pursuing the strangers.” He glanced up at Alaan. “They had knowledge ofthe arcane. That’s how they drove the sentries back.” He stopped to catch hisbreath, as though a few words had taken it all away. “My company are huntingthem now, but there must be a sorcerer among them-”

“Hafydd!” Tam said.

Alaan shook his head. “He has matters more important.”

The giant had crouched by the rider, but he jumped up now. “Weshould go back and help the Knights,” he said, taking up his pack and swingingit in an arc over his shoulder. It thumped into place, and he groped behind forthe other strap.

“We won’t go back,” Alaan said, and Wolfson turned on him, glaringdown at the much smaller man. But Alaan did not blanch. “We won’t go back,” hesaid again. “Our task lies to the south.”

“But what of the riders?” Wolfson argued, still staring downat Alaan.

Tam knew that he would have been intimidated under such astare.

“You go, if you must,” Alaan said, “but I can’t afford tofeel compassion for these riders. Not now. You don’t know what’s at stake.”Alaan spoke to the others. “We must ride.” But then he turned back to the youngman, who still sprawled on the ground. “I thank you for your warning, Wil, butI can’t help you now. My war is with the southern kingdom and its allies in alllands.”

Alaan put a foot in a stirrup and swung up into the saddle.The boy had gained his feet by then, and taken the reins of his horse fromCrowheart. He watched as the strangers crossed the stream and faded among thetrees.

“Come back for us!” he called, as they disappeared from hissight. “Do not forget us.”

For a moment Wolfson stood, one foot in the stream, theother on the shore, then he waded quickly through the water and pulled himselfup onto the far bank. Tam saw him look back once at the young rider, who stoodholding his horse, watching the men go. And then the boy was lost to sight, andWolfson came striding up behind, his face red.

A crow touched Tam’s face with the tip of a wing as itsailed by, then landed on its master’s shoulder. Crowheart reached up andstroked its dark neck, and Tam was sure the bird closed its eyes in pleasure.

Tam glanced behind again. They forced their way into thewood without conversation, pressing their mounts at speed. Tam could feel thetension in the company. Hafydd’s minions hunted them again. For him and Fynnoland their Fael friend this was a return of the nightmare. They had been lucky tosurvive their journey down the River Wynnd, ignorant as they were then. Theyhadn’t even known why they were being hunted.

The trees opened up, and they rode through tall grass, thetufts waving in the breeze, tapping the horses on their flanks. Tam foundhimself behind Crowheart.

“Rabal?” he said. “Why have you come on this journey?”

What he had wanted to say was, Why do you risk your life ?but this had seemed impertinent.

Crowheart lifted his shoulder and brushed the crow off. Ittook to the air with a soft, cawing complaint. Rabal turned to look at Tam, hisblack eyes peering out from behind the sea of dark hair, the bushy brows, thebeard that grew high up his cheeks. “I come for the same reason as you, Tam,”he said, “to find out who I am.” Crowheart spurred his horse and rode ahead.