The Crown and the Dragon (21 page)

“I will,” said Aedin.

“I know you will,” she said. “Now, go.”

In the corridor outside, they could hear the hideous crowing of the Naihmant and the shouts of Vitalion soldiers. Aedin laid Elenn down by the trapdoor and then dropped through the hole in the floor into a dark, damp passage. Reaching up, he pulled Elenn down, with help from the Leodrine.

Elenn didn’t exactly help, but her arms wrapped around Aedin’s neck and she clung to him, like a sleeping child. Much better than a deer carcass. She might even be able to stay in the saddle if he could find a horse somewhere.

The Leodrine took the oil lamp off the wall and passed it down to him. “The water will lead you out. Don’t stop until you find the hermit.”

He nodded.

She shut the trap door, and he and Elenn were alone in the damp tunnel. The lamp showed a passage about six feet high and about three and a half feet wide, continuing on beyond his little pool of light in either direction. A trickle of water ran down the center of the tunnel. Aedin turned downstream, and knocked Elenn’s head against the wall.

“Sorry,” he muttered. He started down the passage, but it was too narrow to carry Elenn in his arms, especially with the oil lamp in one hand.

“Let’s try this.” He lowered her feet to the ground, and found that she could stand with one of his arms supporting her. He shuffled sideways down the tunnel, half-carrying Elenn. She stumbled along limply behind him, as if sleepwalking.

In a few minutes, he began to see small gratings that drained the runoff from the courtyard into their tunnel. Aedin tried to shield the lamp with his body, so that the light would not be seen from above.

As they reached the last of the gratings, Aedin chanced a look up into the courtyard. Vitalion soldiers with bows were running to the ramparts, where Aedin could hear the dragon roaring at them, and a noise that sounded like a terrible rushing wind, accompanied by great billows of dark smoke.

Leif, still clad in bloody scale mail, dragged a Sister out to Corvus. It looked like the Leodrine. Aedin watched as the magister asked the Leodrine something. When she refused, Leif callously cut the poor woman’s throat and threw her to the ground.

Enraged, Aedin ground his teeth. “I’ll see you pay for that, Leif Maulduin.”

Elenn, standing beside him, came to herself enough to scream in horror. Aedin clamped his hand over her mouth and dragged her away down the tunnel with him.

“I’m sorry,” he said, over and over.

Elenn quieted. He listened carefully for the sound of pursuit, but heard nothing. They reached a joining with another tunnel, one which appeared to carry sewage. Aedin pushed on, slogging through the sludge. Elenn did not even react.

Behind him, Aedin heard a caw. Elenn’s eyes went wide and she opened her mouth. Aedin covered her mouth again before she could scream and give them both away. “Faster!” he urged.

They began to run. More caws came, and then the fluttering of birds’ wings. As the sounds grew louder and closer, Aedin pushed Elenn forward. “Run!” he cried. “Keep going!”

She obeyed him, scrabbling down the dark tunnel, quickly out of the light of the oil lamp. Aedin turned and drew his sword, keeping the lamp in his left hand. A shadowy figure emerged from the darkness, diving at him with talons outstretched.

Aedin swung at the Naihman, but the monster burst apart into a flock of crows and then reformed behind him. He spun, just in time for it to slash him in the face with its claws. He fell backward into the filthy water. Stumbling, Aedin lost his grip on his sword, and it fell into the sludge.

Aedin scrambled backward, grasping for his sword, but finding nothing. The Naihman leaped forward, and Aedin lashed out with the only thing he had—the Leodrine’s oil lamp. Again, the monster burst apart to avoid the blow and reformed behind him.

Struck with sudden inspiration, Aedin smashed the lamp against the tunnel roof above the Naihman. Oil and flame rained down upon it, setting the creature ablaze. It thrashed about, unable to put the fire out. As the monster screamed in pain, individual crows flew out until the robes finally collapsed—empty, but still burning.

“There’s a sight to haunt a man’s dreams,” muttered Aedin, as flaming oil spread out slowly on top of the sludgy water running through the tunnel. With an involuntary shudder, he turned and felt his way down the tunnel toward Elenn.

***

Chapter Twenty-Eight

After leaving the tunnel, they walked all that night with Aedin supporting Elenn. They heard crows on occasion, but did not see the other Naihman. After what the Leodrine had said about the dragon, he kept expecting it to swoop down from the sky and devour them both, but it didn’t, for which he thanked the Gods.

Late in the morning, when they were crossing a brook, Elenn collapsed. Aedin was unable to get her to stand up, or even to respond to him. He picked her up and carried her in his arms and continued crossing. As he walked, she clung tightly to his neck, which he took to be a good sign.

When he reached the midpoint of the stream, Elenn said, “I’m cold.”

Struggling to keep his footing in the cold water, he glanced down to see if any part of her was in the stream. But she was dry. Whatever was making her cold, it wasn’t part of this world.

“So cold.”

“We’ll get you warmed up soon,” he said. “Not far now.”

“I’m falling, Aedin,” Elenn whispered. She went limp again. He set her down on the banks of the brook and listened to her heart. She lived, but her heartbeat was slow. He cursed aloud. Then he prayed for strength.

He hoisted Elenn up again and slung her across his shoulders. At first he staggered, but he concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other. Soon he got used to the extra weight and was able to walk.

According to the Leodrine, the hermit lived on the shore of the Lough, near the Narrows, south of a ruined monastery. Aedin had planned to head toward the Narrows and ask the local folk for more specific directions. Unfortunately, he saw no one. The Leode’s outriders and scouts were probably off dealing with the Vitalion. The common folk had probably either fled after the previous night’s attack or were laying low. He couldn’t blame them.

He could be miles away and heading in the wrong direction. And for all he knew, the Vitalion were right on his heels—or the other crow monster. And whatever benefit Elenn had got from the Leodrine Mother’s blessing was apparently gone. So he kept walking, and kept praying. There was nothing else he could do.

Around noon, he spotted something that looked like a tower rising from a hill, perhaps a mile in the distance. As he drew closer, he could see that the tower was all that remained of a much larger building. Ivy grew up crumbling walls scorched by fire. It might have been a monastery once. Hoping that the Gods had guided him here for a purpose, Aedin turned south in search of the hermit.

Soon he spotted a thin trail of smoke rising from behind a ridge. It was possible that this was the smoldering remains of some shepherd’s croft, burned by the dragon. But he hoped for the best and pushed himself as hard as he could to reach the smoke.

Coming over the top of the ridge, he spied the edge of the Lough, and a peat-roofed stone hut with smoke curling out of the chimney. Aedin laughed and made his way carefully down the hill, his legs and back burning like fire with every step.

Stopping to recover his breath, he called out a greeting. “Hallo! Anyone in there?”

Elenn stirred, and Aedin set her down on the ground for a moment. She took a deep breath and shivered, mumbling incoherently.

Behind him, the door flew open with a bang.

“What do you want?” said a wiry old man. He was bald and squinty, with a long, unruly beard. His scant clothing was ratty and soiled. It was the hermit.

Aedin picked Elenn up in his aching arms again and started toward the hut.

“Oh, no,” said the hermit. “Don’t you bring your troubles here!” He slammed the door again.

“We’re from the Leode,” shouted Aedin through the door. “The Leodrine Mother told me to find you.”

“I don’t care where you’re from, or who you know,” the hermit shouted back. “Take your strumpet and shove off!”

Aedin kicked the door as hard as he could, a half dozen times.

The old hermit cracked it open, looking irritated. “Now, see here,” he said, “you can’t go kicking my door in.”

Aedin ignored his protests and shoved his way in through the door. There was just one room inside the hut, with some bedding on the floor in a corner. A kettle was suspended over a fireplace, in which burned a smoky fire. A rusty and pitted sword was displayed above the mantle. The rest of the space was filled with books, and cluttered with what Aedin guessed were either priceless relics or garbage.

A sturdy pine table stood in the middle of the hut, covered with papers and books. Aedin nodded at the table.

“Clear that off,” he said.

“Why should I?” the old man said, testily.

“So I can lay her down,” said Aedin. “She needs your help.”

The old man snorted.

With one leg, Aedin swept a portion of the table clean knocking everything on it to the floor. With an outraged squeak, the hermit scurried forward to clear away the rest of his books and papers.

“People ask me why I live all the way out here,” the hermit muttered, “why I keep away from other folk.” He glared at Aedin. “Well, here’s your answer. There’s no courtesy left in this world.”

“Sorry,” said Aedin, gently laying Elenn down on the table.

“Well, you’re worried about your woman. That’s plain to see.” He dug about in the clutter and returned with a pair of spectacles. “Of course, that’s another reason I am happy on my own. No one else to worry about.”

“You’re the hermit, then?” Aedin asked.

The old man shot Aedin a withering look that spoke of his complete contempt for Aedin’s intellect. “You want me to take a look at your friend or not?” said the hermit.

Aedin backed away, his hands up in a gesture of surrender.

The hermit sniffed and began to examine Elenn. He checked her pulse, listened to her breathing and pried open her eyelids. “So, what happened to her?” he asked.

“The Leodrine said she’s entered the… Glyderinge,” said Aedin.

“Impossible,” said the hermit. “She’s far too young.”

Aedin pulled the out the wooden case and opened it, showing the hermit the Falarica. His eyes grew wide—even lustful.

“Gods above!” gasped the hermit.

“So you know what this is,” said Aedin. “Good. She’s its keeper. And more.”

The hermit looked down at Elenn in wonder. “The Paladin…” he breathed.

“The Leodrine said she had to be anointed,” said Aedin.

“We don’t have much time,” the hermit said briskly. “Candles.” He gestured for Aedin to bring some to him.

Aedin looked in the direction the hermit was pointing and retrieved several candles.

“To keep the demons at bay,” said the hermit, placing them in a circle around Elenn.

The mention of demons reminded Aedin of the crow monsters. He glanced at the window, but there was no sign of anyone or anything outside.

“Now,” said the hermit, “Celyn berries! Do you know them?”

“Renonian holly,” said Aedin.

The hermit tossed a small linen sack to Aedin. “I need about two dozen.”

Aedin looked back at Elenn, who was beginning to writhe on top of the table.

“She’s dying!” shouted the hermit. “Go!” He turned and paid Aedin no more attention.

Aedin tore his eyes from Elenn’s unconscious form and dashed to the door. At the verge, he turned and took the sword down from the mantle, briefly wondering how long he would hold on to this one. Then he hurried out the door and into the wet scrub land of the Narrows.

Ten minutes later, as Aedin knelt before a holly bush picking berries, he heard a rustle behind him. In one fluid motion, Aedin rose to his feet and spun around, gripping the hermit’s corroded antique sword.

Standing behind him in the willows was a large, ugly, bald man. It was Leif, his face dark and grim and a heavy Vitalion sickle-sword in his hand.

“Good to see you, old friend,” said Leif softly.

“Wish I could say the same,” said Aedin. He shook his head. “After all those years of fighting the Vitalion, why turn traitor?”

“Would you believe me if I said money?” Leif offered, circling around carefully.

“You were never that smart,”said Aedin with a laugh. “Neither of us were.”

Leif grinned. “You know me well.” His grin disappeared and his eyes narrowed. “Well enough to know I always pay my debts.”

“Good gods,” said Aedin. “We really going to kill each other because I pulled you off of Elenn? She didn’t want you, man.”

“Wasn’t the first thing you stole from me,” said Leif. “Not the first time you pushed me aside. But no man puts a blade to my throat.”

With surprising speed, Leif feinted and then slashed at Aedin’s throat, but the rusty hermit’s blade turned his sickle-sword aside.

“Where are your new friends?” said Aedin.

“Close,” said Leif. “Where is the girl?”

“Many miles from here,” said Aedin. “Riding away on the swiftest horse in the stables of the Leode.”

“For an outlaw, you’ve always been a terrible liar,” said Leif with a laugh. He leapt forward again. Aedin was ready and parried. With all the speed he could muster, Aedin flicked the old hermit’s decrepit sword out to Leif’s face, but he danced out of reach.

“You can still just turn around,” said Aedin.

“No, no,” said Leif. “I’ve been looking forward to this.”

Leif rushed in again, this time hacking relentlessly with the heavy Vitalion falcata. This close to the Narrows, the ground was soft treacherously soft underfoot, and Aedin nearly slipped as Leif drove him inexorably backward, and down toward the water.

Even exhausted, Aedin was faster. But Leif was stronger and had the greater reach. Moreover, Aedin’s ancient weapon was much the worse for wear. He tried to avoid Leif’s blows, rather than parrying them, but Leif knew well his weakness. The ring of steel on steel sounded the rhythm of their deadly dance.

Eventually, Leif hooked Aedin’s rusty blade and broke the old sword off at the hilt. Aedin threw the hilt at Leif and drew his dagger. Leif ducked and swung again. Aedin tried to jump back but slipped on the wet earth and fell to the ground.

Leif stepped forward and loomed over Aedin with the heavy, forward-curving Vitalion sword in his hand. He smiled.

“You can’t win this battle, Aedin,” Leif said. “You should be used to that by now. But do what you always do. Save yourself. Tell me where the girl is, and I’ll forget you were here.”

Aedin scrambled to his feet and held his dagger out in front of hm.

“Don’t know where you found your spine,” said Leif, “but it won’t save you. Or the girl.”

Leif lunged forward and thrust his sword through Aedin’s quilted armor and into the fleshy side of Aedin’s stomach. As he did, Aedin stabbed his dagger into Leif’s throat, twisting it and driving it up into the brain. After a great deal of screaming and bleeding, Leif fell to the ground, dead

Aedin groaned and sank to his knees. He slowly pulled the sword out of his torso and shoved his fist against his wound to stop the bleeding. With his other hand, he cut off Leif’s shirt and used it as a bandage.

Lying on his back, he gasped for air as he clutched at his stomach, trying to hold in his insides. His world shrank and for a few minutes he could think of nothing but his own pain.

When his eyes could once again focus, he realized that he was looking right at the little pouch of berries that he had dropped. Aedin crawled toward it and picked it up. Using Leif’s heavy Vitalion sickle-sword as a cane, he struggled to his feet. Clinging to the thought that Elenn needed him, he staggered back toward the hermit’s hut.

***