Edith Pattou - Hero's Song

"Fara tells me the dungeon ends at the beginning of a labyrinth. The other way leads back up into Bricriu's dun."

"What kind of labyrinth?" asked Collun.

"It is Ellyl. We must decide quickly," said Silien. "Fara says there are two morgs guarding the entrance to the dun."

"I don't see that we have a choice," came Brie's voice through the darkness. "Even if we could get past those morgs, if we try to escape through Bricriu's dun, we will almost certainly be captured."

There came the dull banging sound of a door opening and then shutting. It was followed by the hollow echo of footsteps approaching.

"Is it to be the labyrinth?" whispered Silien.

"Yes," Collun whispered back, filled with misgivings.

They moved forward as quickly and quietly as they could in the darkness, feeling their way along the damp, cool rock of the tunnel walls. They passed a number of doorways; more cells, Collun guessed.

"The labyrinth begins up ahead," whispered Silien.

"You said it is Ellyl?" Talisen said softly.

"Yes. Fara knew it at once. I have heard of it but know little beyond this..." The companions drew closer to hear Silien's hushed words as they walked. "It is called Misteir Dearthair and was fashioned long ago by two Ellyl brothers. These brothers both wished to wed the same maiden, who, it was said, loved them equally and could not make the choice between them. She was fond of puzzles, so the brothers came up with the idea of a labyrinth with two ways out. One would lead to the first brother and one to the second. Whichever way she took would lead to the Ellyl she would marry. It took one year to build, so intricate was its design." Silien paused, out of breath.

"The maiden never found the way out. They believe she fell and injured herself deep within the twists and turnings of the labyrinth. She was dead before they could find her. After that the labyrinth was sealed. It was forbidden to enter it." Silien stopped speaking.

"No doubt Bricriu purposely built his dun over it," Brie mused.

"Handy for constructing a dungeon," added Talisen, "as well as a convenient graveyard." He laughed wryly. "Though hopefully not for us."

"I don't like it," Collun said, reverting to his earlier feelings of misgiving. "If the Ellyl maiden could not find her way out, how can we ever hope to?"

"It begins here," said Silien.

Suddenly they heard the sound of muffled shouts and doors banging. The morgs had discovered their escape.

They plunged forward into the labyrinth. They made several turnings, still feeling the way along the walls with their fingers and choosing at random the path to take.

They lapsed into silence. Collun found it eerie, walking without sight. He remembered old Neggan, the blind weaver back in Inkberrow. Collun had never thought before about what it must be like, living in darkness as she did. He understood now why she wove elaborate stories into her cloth. They must have brought some color and light into her dark world, even if she could not see them.

"There was a riddle," Silien finally broke the silence, his voice a faint whisper. "It was given to the maiden to help her find her way out. It provided a clue to the puzzle. I never learned the riddle, nor its answer..." His voice trailed away, then came again, softly, "Fara remembers only the first line of it. 'I go naked in winter yet feel no chill.' That is all."

"A riddle, eh?" said Talisen, his voice eager. "Well, then, I should be able to get us through this labyrinth in no time at all. 'I go naked in winter...' Just give me a few moments." He began muttering to himself. The rest of them lapsed again into silence.

After what seemed an eternity of groping in the dark, of doubling back from dead ends and starting over, Silien gave a soft sigh and said, "I can go no farther." He slipped to the ground where he stood and was immediately asleep.

"We will have to carry him," said Collun. He and Talisen hoisted Silien up, draping one of the Ellyl's arms around Collun's neck, the other around Talisen's. Brie moved into the lead with Fara at her side.

As he walked, Collun thought about the riddle fragment. He considered asking Brie's opinion, but he hesitated. The strain was still there between them. He had tried many times to identify its cause, but he could not. Nor could he bring himself to ask her.

After several hours of carrying Silien, Collun and Talisen began to tire. They dragged on for some time but finally had to rest. They laid the Ellyl gently on the tunnel floor. Talisen went a short distance away to concentrate on the riddle. Collun could hear Brie breathing nearby. He took a step toward her, then stopped.

"Brie?" Collun said tentatively.

"Yes?" Her voice was cold. Collun could hear Fara's purr and guessed that Brie was stroking the animal's back.

"Why do you journey with us?" Collun blurted out.

"In our present circumstances it would seem I have little choice," Brie responded dryly.

"But why did you stay with us after we got to Temair?"

Brie didn't answer for a moment. "Did you want me to leave you then?"

"No!" Collun exclaimed. "That is, we have, uh, come to rely on your bow."

"I see." He could hear her move away from him. Collun reached out to stop her, but then let his arm fall back to his side. He felt a numbness inside him, and for some reason the words in Goban's letter came back to him.

Collun felt his way back to the Ellyl. "Silien?"

"Yes." He was awake.

"How do you feel?" Collun queried.

"A little better," the Ellyl replied huskily. And suddenly he began to sing. At first his voice was so soft that Collun did not even recognize it as singing. It was like the time in the Forest of Eld. The song had no rhyme, it told no story, it did not even have recognizable words—yet somehow Collun knew it was a song. It painted pictures of fire and smoke behind his eyes, and when it was done, the darkness was gone. A soft pink light glowed in Silien's hand. He held it before him so they could see the place where they stood.

It was a tunnel carved of rock, just higher than the tallest of them. They stood at a turning. There was a drawing on the wall just below eye level.

As they walked forward they found more drawings. They were spaced at irregular intervals, and at each turning there was a picture. The designs depicted many different things—a ring-tailed mouse, a blade of grass glistening with moisture, a salmon leaping high above a stream. Each one was exquisite. The spray of periwinkle next to Collun was so lifelike he felt he could reach over and pluck it.

"Ellyl drawings," said Silien.

"They are beautiful," replied Talisen.

"I wonder if they were drawn for decoration only," said Brie.

"You mean you think they may be clues, like the riddle?" queried Talisen. "By Amergin, the answer is on the tip of my tongue! I have heard it before, I am sure. 'I go naked in winter...' Are you sure Fara can remember no more of it, Silien?"

"I am sure." The Ellyl's voice was hollow with fatigue. "Fara has no patience for riddling. Let us move ahead. Perhaps the pictures will tell us more." Silien held up the light in his hand and they walked on. They came to several turnings and randomly chose the way to go.

"'In winter...'" Talisen was still muttering irritably to himself. "I would swear I know this riddle. I heard it once in a song." He slid his harp around again and began to finger the strings. "I can even picture the face of the bard who sang it to me. He was very old, and his voice had more cracks than the plates Farmer Whicklow used to throw at me."

They passed the painting of a spindly legged lamb, then a cluster of ripe huckleberries. Talisen gave a sigh and for a moment stopped playing. "I cannot concentrate for all the clamor my stomach is making. By chance, does anyone have food with them?" No one replied. "I thought not," he responded gloomily.