Fell (The Sight 2) (28 page)

Alina looked at her friend lying there, but Fell was lost in his own thoughts and memories.

“Not yet. I can’t ask him to walk amongst humans, until we’re sure of them. But he’ll be ready.”

“This bounty for a girl,” said Catalin. “If these Helgra are as poor as they say, they may not readily turn down a hundred gold pieces, if they find out who you are.”

Alina tried to smile.

“Then again I walk as a boy, Catalin,” she whispered and her eyes flickered. “Or a man.”

Alina had spoken in a tiny voice, a mere whisper, which outside might not have been heard at all, but here in his birthing den the wolf noticed with surprise how Alina’s words bounced off the stone walls of the cave, and were magnified so greatly in the echoing chamber that they sounded loud and brave and strong.

With the dawn they crept out of Fell’s birthing den, and down towards the fearful Helgra village. It was in the neck of the valley, ringed by a timber stockade that rose into the morning sky like teeth. Plumes of black wood smoke rose from its humble housetops as they approached, and Alina thought she could see spears placed in the ground near the entrance, and wondered if they were really topped with human heads.

She seemed to remember the place dimly. Fell scouted the stockade, and when he returned he nodded his muzzle.

“All seems quiet enough, Alina,” he growled. “Most of the humans seem to be in their dens, and there’s a strange, sad air about the place. I fear it.”

“We’ll go in first then, my friend. It’ll be safer and look more natural that way. But come if my thoughts call you, Fell.”

The black wolf’s yellow gold eyes glittered in agreement. So it was that Catalin and Alina approached the fearful Helgra village, as two young men, side by side, while Fell waited warily on its outskirts, much too close to human dens for his own comfort.

The smoke seemed to rise like a funeral fire, as they set their nervous feet on the track approaching the village entrance, putting up their hoods and fighting thoughts of being flayed alive. They felt sick to their stomachs as they neared those spears.

“Perhaps there’s one without a skull on its top,” whispered Catalin with a grim smile. “Ready for me.”

“For a hero, you mean,” said Alina, thinking of the story of Baba Yaga’s fence and squeezing his arm.

Their path was set, and if it was human heads they expected to see at the tops of the spears, all they found were the skulls of cow and deer. It was still a gruesome sight, and they were little reassured by the gloom that seemed to hang in the air like the smoke as they passed through the gates.

A group of Helgra children spotted them first. They looked as thin and ragged as urchins, and when they saw two armed visitors walking into the village, they stopped playing with pebbles for marbles and twigs for swords, and gathered round Catalin and Alina, pulling at their clothes. From dirty faces they stared wonderingly at the sword and the bow, their eyes as fat with fear as their bellies were thin with hunger.

“Have you an elder?” asked Catalin loudly, to a lanky boy with dirty blond hair. A nod was his only answer, and they were led by the little pack of children to the centre of the village. There was a tangible air of fear and sorrow all around, for many of the grimy houses were boarded up, and there were few animals in sight. Instead, angry adult faces peered out of darkened windows, and shutters were opened and slammed again.

“What has Vladeran done?” whispered Alina bitterly, as they walked. “It’s terrible, Catalin.”

As they reached a kind of square, with a well and a barn, and nearby a kind of covered conference place, strange memories flickered through Alina’s mind. She was sure she’d been to this place before as a little girl.

The blond-haired lad ran to a long, thatched house on the side of the square, and was inside for some time, but at last he reemerged with three Helgra adults. As soon as the first saw the bow and sword at their backs, he gave a low whistle, and from all around the square figures appeared like trained sheepdogs, not with swords, but armed well enough with pike and hoe and staff. Catalin and Alina were suddenly surrounded by Helgra men, glaring at them suspiciously.

“A good start, SkeinTale,” whispered Catalin, with another grim smile.

The three Helgra adults came forwards. One was an old man, with long white hair and a stooped back, wearing a scrawny wolf cloak around his shoulders, and by the way the second—a thickset man with a powerful, bold face—was helping him, it soon became apparent that the old man was blind. The third figure was thin and lean, with a half beard, and hovered in the background with veiled eyes.

“You’re courageous to walk so openly into our village,” said the larger man coldly, as Alina and Catalin looked at the pikes around them. “There was a time when none would have dared do so. The Helgra are fallen into contempt indeed.”

“Are you the elder, sir?” ventured Catalin softly.

“That I’m not,” answered the man gruffly, indicating the old, white-haired man at his side. “My father Ilyan here is elder to the Helgra. The headman of this village, and thus of all the Helgra villages in these parts. I’m his son Ovidu, and this is my younger brother Cascu. Who are you?”

“Catalin Fierar and Alin Sculcuvant, sir,” answered Catalin, “travellers in the world.”

“What kind of travellers? Soldiers perhaps, though young ones indeed.”

Catalin’s eyes flickered.

“We’re storytellers, sir. Travelling storytellers.”

Alina smiled and felt a warmth inside her.

“And what do you do in our village, storyteller?”

Catalin looked nervously at Alina. He hardly knew how to answer, although he had tried to take the lead.

“We’re hungry, sir, and have come a long road. We seek help, and mean no harm. We’ve gold.”

Catalin had put his hand to his belt, but the elder’s first son let go of his father’s arm and stepped angrily forwards.

“You insult the elder with your filthy coin, storyteller?”

“No, sir, I only meant …”

“And how do we know that you’re not really Lord Vladeran’s spies,” said his brother Cascu suddenly, “come to test our loyalty with your lies, and lead us into a trap? He sets many traps and has many spies. Even amongst our own.”

He had a thin, nasal voice and a mean look, and the armed men were muttering and nodding, as Alina wondered if she should call on Fell.

“And you’re hungry, you say?” snorted Cascu. “And so come to scavenge perhaps, or steal the last scraps of food from our children’s bellies with your lying tales.”

“My brother’s right,” said Ovidu. “All men are hungry, but with the ‘justice’ of Vladeran’s and Romana’s rule, we’ve nothing to spare, so what’s your bellyaching to us?”

Alina stepped forwards now. She could see that the Helgra were none too pleased to welcome strangers, even travelling storytellers, but she thought of those soldiers playing at dice, and knew she had to take a risk on the gamble of the world. So she spoke, calmly and clearly, refusing to be intimidated by the circle of men.

She told them that they had crossed the high mountains, struggling for months through bitter weather, returning to the lands beyond, where Alina had been born, and sought to learn all they could of the house of Castelu.

She could see immediately the angry flame that lit in the men’s eyes at the mention of Castelu, so she added hurriedly that they were no friends of Lord Vladeran. It was enough to set the white-haired elder’s blind eyes sparking with interest, but all the while Ovidu looked sullen and suspicious, while his brother Cascu was studying their faces with new interest, and clever, darting eyes. Suddenly the old blind man hobbled forwards.

“You’ve a young voice, storyteller,” he said, tilting his head as if listening, “for one who speaks so boldly.”

Ilyan raised his shaking hands.

“Come here, lad,” he whispered.

Alina hesitated, fearful of being discovered, but she saw she could not refuse and so stepped forwards. The old man put his hands to her face, and with his sensitive, spindly fingers, for years his only eyes, Ilyan began to examine Alina’s features, as she flinched at his touch.

“Good cheekbones,” he whispered, “and a high, intelligent forehead. I hope your heart’s as strong. What colour is your hair?”

Alina paused nervously.

“Red, sir.”

Ilyan stepped back at that and smiled.

“And now I do not doubt your courage, for it’s brave of a girl to walk like this amongst the Helgra.”

“A girl?” whispered Ovidu. “Is it true?”

There was a murmur amongst the assembled men, and Catalin looked nervously at Alina and fingered his bow.

Alina pulled down her hood slowly.

“Yes, it’s true,” she answered, “but although my clothes may dissemble, I come with truth in my heart. And on my tongue.” Alina felt strangely proud as she said it and remembered Ivan’s words about truth being her greatest ally.

“Gold,” whispered one of the Helgra suddenly. “Vladeran offers gold for a redheaded woman.”

“Hush man,” snapped Ilyan. “Would you take Vladeran’s filthy gold? Even with a bounty set so low on the head of the heir to the lands of Castelu?”

Alina flinched and Ovidu swung round.

“What, Father?”

“A girl travelling through the wild to Castelu,” said the old man, with a delighted chuckle. “A secret bounty. It’s as I long suspected. She’s the girl, Alina, the redheaded child, whom they said was lost in the snows, and killed by the Turk. Elu’s elder sister.”

“Seize them!” cried Ovidu immediately.

The men rushed forwards and, before they could react, grabbed hold of Catalin and Alina roughly. Ilyan was muttering though, and swinging round his blind eyes towards his son.

“No, Ovidu. What are you doing, boy?”

“Spies, Father. It’s a trap indeed. I’ll not have you end your days in Vladeran’s dungeons. Cascu, her sword.”

Cascu plucked the blade from Alina’s back and handed it to his brother.

“We set no traps,” said Alina angrily. “The rumours about my disappearance are the lies. I am Alina of Castelu, as you say, but it was Lord Vladeran, not Turks, who had me kidnapped long ago, and sent me to be murdered in the snows. I hate him with all my heart, as you do, I think.”

The claim made the men pause, but Cascu glared suspiciously at Alina.

“You’re a storyteller indeed. You’ve proof of this fable, woman?”

“There was a parchment.” Alina dropped her eyes. “But it was lost.”

“And in times like this, it is too dangerous to believe such nonsense, or let you live,” growled Ovidu. “Even if it is true, I’ve no love for the children of Castelu, and none in these times will mourn the deaths of two wandering children.”

As he said it, one of the Helgra cried out.

“Look there.”

The elder’s first son turned, as did the others, and they all gasped in utter astonishment. Through the very centre of the Helgra village, watched by those terrified children, came a lone black wolf.

Fell’s bushy tail was held high, and he growled as he swung his muzzle left and right, his yellow gold eyes surveying the humans about him, although with a look that was unconcerned, and almost bored. The effect on the Helgra was instantaneous though, and an awed murmur went up amongst them, like a wind.

“What’s happening?” whispered Ilyan, clutching at the air.

“The wolf comes amongst us,” cried an old Helgra woman. “He walks with the children.”

Ilyan found his older son’s arm and grabbed at it.

“A wolf,” he whispered. “It’s an omen, Ovidu. A good one. She is the one.”

Fell was truly delighted with the effect he was having on the superstitious Helgra. The ring around Alina and Catalin broke apart, leaving only the two men holding them. Doors had begun to open around the village, and ragged Helgra families emerged, peering in wonder and amazement at the extraordinary scene.

Fell padded on, straight past Catalin, brushing his leg with his tail, as Ilyan sniffed at the air. When he reached Alina, the black wolf stopped and looked up at the proud young woman and her now shaken captors. With a huge yawn that showed his teeth, Fell lay down at Alina WovenWord’s feet, licked his lips, and laid his head softly on his paws with a sigh.

“You didn’t call, Alina,” came his thoughts, “but it felt wrong somehow, so I came.”

“The wolf,” cried Ovidu in astonishment, “the black wolf serves the lost heir to Castelu. Release them, instantly.”

The two Helgra were more than pleased to release the strangers, and jumped back themselves from that black apparition. Alina was going to speak, but Ovidu had already come forwards. He dropped to a knee before the wolf and the girl, and held up Alina’s sword by its wolf hilt.

“Forgive me, storyteller,” he said humbly, looking nervously at Fell. “We’ve seen much suffering, and trust few these days. But if your tale’s true, and a wolf serves you, then you’ve my service, willingly. And the Helgra’s. For we honour the Varg as no other animal in the world. Though many animals we honour indeed.”

“You know the name of the Varg?” asked Alina in surprise.

The elder’s son looked up at her, and his eyes were afraid.

“It’s the name the Helgra have used for centuries, Alina of Castelu. Since Dacian times.”

“Very well then,” said Alina. “Know then that it’s the name the wolf uses for their own kind too.”

Ovidu’s eyes were full of the mystery of it, though still doubting, but he bowed his head to the storyteller. With that, he suddenly gave a gasp.

“The mark,” he hissed, staring now at that sword, and the eagle that had been wrought into the tempered metal by the clever blacksmith.

“The eagle?” said Alina, immediately. “You know what it means, Ovidu?”

Ovidu rose slowly, looking even more wonderingly at the newcomer.

“Of course. The opening wings of the steppe eagle are the ancient mark of a Helgra woman.”

“Helgra?” cried Alina in astonishment. “Is this a story?”

Ilyan was listening intently, and nodding to himself.

“You’ve the mark too, don’t you?” he asked. “On your arm. A little eagle.”

“Yes, Ilyan.”

“And it proves all you’ve said,” cried old Ilyan delightedly. “For the Lady Romana bears the same mark. The mark I gave her with my own hands when her mother brought her to me as a child, to let it be remembered she has Helgra blood too. The mark I gave you as a little girl also, when Romana brought you to me. Oh, Alina. Alina of Castelu. You have returned.”