Roger Taylor - Valderen

Edrien laughed at this sudden change, dispelling the last remnants of EmRan’s disturbing visit. ‘Your horse is fine,’ she said. ‘As are all the bits and pieces in your saddlebags.’ Her laughter died away and she looked at him seriously. ‘Judging by what you had with you, I gather that you were intending to live outdoors for some time when you left.’

‘You had a good look, then?’ Farnor said, with some indignation.

‘Oh yes,’ Edrien replied easily. ‘All of us. We thought there might be something in your bags to tell us where you came from, or what had happened to you.’ She tried unsuccessfully to avoid smiling as she spoke, then she gave up. ‘But mainly we were just curious,’ she admitted finally, grinning broadly and leaving Farnor even more indignant, yet incapable of offering her any reproach.

‘Why must you go back?’ Bildar asked casually.

Farnor opened his mouth to say something, then seemed to change his mind. ‘The valley’s where I belong,’ he said instead. ‘It’s my home.’

Bildar nodded. ‘I thought that your home had been destroyed,’ he said. ‘And that you’d been driven out by this… Nilsson.’

Farnor’s jaw tautened. ‘I have to go back,’ he re-peated. ‘I have matters to attend to. Family matters.’

‘Matters involving the use of that knife in your belt?’ Bildar said.

Farnor turned away from him. ‘I have to go back,’ he said again, coldly. He stood up. ‘I’m grateful for the meal and all the kindness that you’ve shown me, Bildar. But the problems I’ve brought you will only be solved by my leaving. If my horse and my supplies are all safe, then I’ll go as soon as possible.’ He turned to Edrien. ‘Will you take me back to your father’s… lodge? I’d like to thank him and at least offer to repay him for what he’s done for me. Then you can show me where my horse is and how I can get on my way.’

Edrien looked at Bildar for guidance. Bildar raised both hands and motioned Farnor to sit down again. Farnor however, remained standing where he was.

‘Farnor, you’re free to go any time that you wish,’ the old man said. ‘I don’t know what your people are like, but we place great value on each individual’s personal freedom. There’s no question of keeping you here any longer than you wish. You must see Derwyn, of course, but I imagine he’ll answer you as I have with regard to any form of payment.’

There was such a weight of qualification in his voice however, that Farnor sat down again.

‘But there are some problems about your leaving,’ Bildar went on. ‘Not the least of which is that we don’t know where you came from.’

Farnor frowned. ‘What do mean, you don’t know where I came from?’ he asked.

‘Just what I said,’ Bildar replied. ‘We know where we found you, but how you came there…’ He shrugged.

Farnor looked flustered. ‘I rode north. Through the valley. You must know, surely…’

Bildar shook his head. ‘South of here lie the moun-tains. That’s all we know. Doubtless there are many valleys there, but we never go near them. None of the Valderen go near the edges of the Forest, except in some extremity.’

‘But…’

‘We’re the most southerly of the Koyden-dae, Far-nor, and our hunting ranges are northwards. South is an unknown country to us.’

Farnor grimaced irritably. ‘Well, take me back to where you found me then,’ he said. ‘The way I was riding, I must have left tracks that a blind man could follow. I’ll find my own way back.’

‘Quite possibly,’ Bildar agreed. ‘But…’ He looked down briefly. ‘… there are other matters to be consid-ered.’

Farnor’s eyes narrowed. ‘What other matters?’ he demanded suspiciously.

Bildar rubbed his chin with his hand, a perplexed expression on his face. ‘You’re an outsider, Farnor, but they let you in,’ he said after a long pause. ‘They must have had their reasons for it, and I suspect they won’t let you out.’

Farnor looked at him in bewilderment. ‘You said something about “they” to EmRan,’ he said. ‘Who are you talking about? Who are “they”?’

Bildar looked at him uncertainly. ‘They,’ he said, as if stating the obvious, and waving his hand towards the window.

‘I don’t understand,’ Farnor said, looking at the window, his brow furrowing. ‘Who do you mean?’ He searched for something familiar. ‘Are there – soldiers – armed men keeping you here, as well?’

Bildar smiled and shook his head. ‘No, of course not,’ he replied. ‘I told you. We’re a free people. No one constrains us.’

Farnor put his hands to his temples. ‘If no one con-strains you, then who are they , and why would they stop me leaving?’ he asked, trying to keep the impatience from his voice.

‘They,’ Bildar replied, pointing to the window again.

Farnor took a slow breath and then looked at the window again. There was nothing to be seen beyond it however, except bright, gently waving foliage. He closed his eyes for a moment and his frown deepened. He was about to ask, ‘Who are they?’ once more when he changed his mind and turned to Edrien for assistance. Her light-brown eyes searched his for the source of the confusion that was leading him into this futile circular debate with Bildar.

An impulse led her to it. ‘The trees, Farnor,’ she said. ‘The trees. They let you in. And if they did that then they want you here for some reason. Father thinks that’s why they’ve taken Marken away. To find out what it’s all about.’

Farnor looked at her dubiously, a faint smile hover-ing uncertainly at the edges of his mouth. ‘The trees,’ he said, raising his eyebrows. ‘ They let me in?’

Edrien nodded, her eyes fixed on his face.

‘Nothing to do with the fact that my horse was run-ning fit to plough through a mountainside? The trees let me in?’

Edrien nodded again and gestured at Bildar. ‘We think so,’ she said.

Farnor’s smile broadened, though it was not without some nervousness. ‘I’m sorry. If this is some kind of Valderen joke, I’m afraid it’s beyond me.’ He stood up again. ‘I think I’d like to go now, unless you’ve got a real reason for wanting me to stay.’

Edrien looked at Bildar, concerned. Bildar turned to Farnor.

‘It’s so difficult,’ he said. ‘We really need Marken here. We need to know what they want.’

Farnor’s smile faded and he looked at the two of them uneasily.

He opted for a further apology. ‘I’m sorry if I’m being slow,’ he said, ‘but I really don’t know what you’re talking about.’ Increasingly unsettled at this bizarre turn in events however, he endeavoured to be stern. ‘I’d like to leave now. I want to be on my way as soon as I’ve fulfilled whatever obligations I’ve incurred here.’

He moved towards the door. Without comment, Edrien stood up and joined him, though she seemed bewildered by his manner.

‘We’re not joking, Farnor,’ Bildar said as Edrien reached out to open the door. ‘It’s as Edrien said. It never occurred to me – to any of us – that you wouldn’t know.’ He gave a little, self-reproving smile. ‘You’d think I’d be aware of the obvious at my age, wouldn’t you?’ he said, half to himself. Then he looked at Farnor, his expression open and his manner straightforward.

‘This is the Forest. The Great Forest. The place of the trees. The ancient place of the trees. Theirs is the power here, should they choose to use it. They allow us to live here. No one knows why, but they do, and we’re thankful for it and we live in harmony with their needs, as best we can.’

Farnor remained motionless while Bildar spoke. Then he looked from the old man to Edrien and back again. He could find no hint of mockery in either of them. Still less any hint of madness. ‘You really believe this, don’t you?’ he said cautiously, after an awkward pause.