Edith Pattou - Fire Arrow

Once Brie caught sight of a band of gabha in the distance, heading north like herself. They did not see her, but she veered east to stay well apart from them.

One night, after a particularly long day of hiking, Brie dreamed of the bell tower again. This time the figure beside it was moving toward her. To her relief she saw it wasn't a goat-man, and it did not drag anything behind it. But otherwise she could not make out its features, not even if it was man or woman. "I am waiting," it seemed to say.

She woke suddenly, uneasy, a smoke circle wafting over her head, and jumped to her feet. Hanna was sitting by the campfire, smoking her pipe and gazing calmly at Brie. The two dogs, Jip and Maor, lay peaceably on either side of her. Fara was nestled next to Jip. Another large smoke circle drifted lazily out of Hanna's mouth, followed by another smaller one, which sailed through the center of the first.

"Well met, Biri," Hanna said.

"Good morning," Brie responded with a yawn, and went to sit beside Hanna. Brie set about rekindling the fire and brewing a pan of cyffroi.

"I would have started the water boiling, but I didn't want to wake you," said Hanna.

"I must have been sleeping soundly."

"Indeed. It is a good thing I was not a goat-man."

Brie nodded, then said, "I thought to travel alone."

"Think again," said Hanna with a grin.

"I am glad." Brie smiled back.

"I arrived in Ardara just after you left. I saw Sago, and Lom as well."

Brie flushed slightly.

"The sorcerer was ailing and not in any condition to aid the villagers with the sumog that infest their waters."

"Is it bad?" Brie asked.

"Aye. They're scared. No one will go out on the water, and yet they need food." Hanna shook her head. "I got Sago to talk sense long enough to learn you'd left. Said you'd be heading north."

"That was more than he'd tell me," Brie grumbled.

"I gather there was some urgency in your departure," Hanna said. "Lom was little pleased, but he insisted I bring Araf for you." She gestured behind Brie, who turned to see two horses tethered a short distance away. The white mare she recognized as one Hanna used when she was at Farmer Garmon's; the other was indeed Araf, Lom's bay.

"That was kind of him."

"He wishes to wed you."

"I know."

"And?"

"I am afraid I am ill-suited to be Lom's wife. Anyone's wife, for that matter," she added with a trace of bitterness.

"No one? What of the boy Collun?" asked Hanna.

Brie shook her head. "I doubt whether he even calls me friend." She swallowed the rest of the hot cyffroi.

As they broke camp Hanna said to Brie, "Where do we journey, Biri?"

She told Hanna about the bell tower.

"And where does this bell tower lie?" asked Hanna as they mounted their horses.

"I have no idea," Brie answered, her good spirits restored.

But each night Brie dreamed the bell tower again. And each time the figure came closer, though its face was yet obscured. It appeared to be moving across water, on top of it, and she thought it was a man.

***

They had turned inland, heading east as well as north, at a diagonal. It was familiar terrain to the Traveler. They stopped in only two villages, preferring to keep to the countryside. The Dungalans they encountered were fearful. In addition to rumors of sumog infestations up and down the coast, many reported seeing bands of goat-men moving north. As yet there had been no gabha attacks on Dungalans, but many had lost farm animals to them.

Hanna and Brie crossed the meandering Tyfed River several times, once by means of an enormous moss-covered tree-trunk bridge. And they passed through the Stags of Menhooley, a cluster of large standing stones atop a flat-topped, grassy mound.

Hanna did not seem concerned that they followed no set course, though she occasionally teased Brie. "I've always had an affectionate spot for the horse Araf," she said, "though I'm not sure I would have chosen her as trailblazer."

"Better Araf than me," muttered Brie. But they both guessed, without speaking it out loud, that it was the fire arrow that led them.

***

It was twilight, a murky, fog-laden twilight. They made camp in a stand of trees, aged wild oaks with crinkled leaves and fissured bark that had a wizened air of secrecy. Hanna and Brie were both quiet as they ate. The animals were quiet, too, and there was a muffled stillness all around them.

When Brie slept that night, it was deeply.

She was gazing down into a valley. In the center of the peaceful valley lay a lake and from the lake rose the bell tower. The figure of the man was stepping off the surface of the lake onto the grassy turf. He gazed up at Brie and beckoned. Come.

Brie awakened and rose, taking care not to disturb Hanna. Quietly she picked up her bow and quiver and began to walk through the sessile oaks. She moved deliberately, silently. After walking some time, she finally arrived at the edge of a bluff, where she could see down into the valley below. The murky predawn light faintly illuminated a tall stone building with a cone-shaped roof rising from a small islet in the lake.

The bell tower, she thought, half certain, half unbelieving.

She started down the slope, her legs knifing through wisps of fog as she descended. The tower rose straight and bare with only a few windows, narrow black rectangles placed irregularly along its length. Brie could see a tall arched entrance door at the base.

As she drew closer, through the drifting fog, Brie could make out the figure of the man standing at the edge of the lake. Just as in her dream, he moved slowly toward her.

Her eyes were fixed on the man's face. But even as other aspects of him became clear—his black tunic and soft gray trousers, the golden sword buckled at his side, even his gold hair—his face remained obscured. At first Brie thought it was the fog, but then she thought something must be wrong with her vision. The harder she tried to focus on his face, the less she could see it, as if spiderwebs were stretched over her eyes. She rubbed them, but the filmy blur remained.

"Welcome." The voice was deep and rich and warm, promising unbounded hospitality: a haven of comfort, ease, and refreshment after a long journey. But there was an undercurrent of something else.... What was it? she wondered. Satisfaction, as though something planned for a long time had come off as expected.

FIFTEEN

The Man with No Face

The man's warm, caressing voice wrapped around Brie, drawing her closer. But still his face was blurred, shifting.

"I have waited long," he said, and Brie's hand was enveloped in his. She was being propelled toward the lake. Somehow the man with no face had taken control of her limbs, the effect reminding her of the paralysis caused by a morg's touch, except that this was not a cold, spreading numbness but a hot prickle, as if the blood inside her veins were being heated by a flame. Terror caught at her somewhere deep inside, but she could not stop herself from moving forward.

The benevolent voice said, "Here, let us cross to the bell tower."

Even with the stunned, burning feeling in her limbs, Brie faltered. Perhaps the man with no face could walk on the water, but she could not.

He gave an indulgent laugh. "There is a pathway made of stone just under the water. An underwater wall, if you like, an amusing contrivance wrought by the original owner. I will not let you fall."

And indeed, like a master puppeteer, he guided Brie's feet across the stone pathway. The water came up almost to her knees and was so opaque she could not see her boots. The path had been constructed with a devilish ingenuity, twisting and turning in such a way that, on her own, it would have taken half the day for Brie to navigate it.