The Lost Stories (47 page)

You'll be next, Will thought. Gilan seemed to read his thoughts and smiled widely at him. The prospect didn't seem to bother him at all.

He stopped in midstride as he made out the next two guests, standing back in the shadows behind Gilan and Jenny. Two totally disparate forms—one small and slightly built, looking as if a strong wind would blow him away, the other tall and broad. Huge, in fact. And between them, a black-and-white shape that rose from the ground and advanced toward Ebony, her heavy tail sweeping back and forth as she came.

As Ebony and her mother, Shadow, reacquainted themselves, tails wagging slowly, heads lowered, Will stepped forward quickly to embrace Malcolm, then to be crushed in return by Trobar's bear hug.

“You made it!” he said, delighted to see them.“I wasn't sure you'd come so far!”

“Wouldn't have missed it for worlds!” the birdlike healer told him, smiling fondly at the young man.

Trobar's huge voice rumbled as softly as the giant could manage. “Co'gra-lashuns, Will Treaty.”

“Thanks, Trobar,” Will said. “The day is better for the fact that you're here.”

The Baron coughed meaningfully and Will realized that it was time to get matters under way. Disengaging himself from the healer and his giant bodyguard, he moved to where Arald was waiting, a sheaf of official papers on the podium before him.

Tug and Ebony followed him.

“Well,” said the Baron fondly,“it's a beautiful night for a wedding, Will Treaty.”

“Can't think of a better one, sir,” Will replied.

“I'm reminded of a rather amusing story . . . ,” the Baron began. But his wife, Lady Sandra, made a low warning noise—subtle but unmistakable—and he looked at her guiltily. “Eh? Oh . . . yes . . . of course, my dear. Perhaps later, young Will.”

“Later would probably be better, sir,” Will agreed, hiding a smile.

“Right . . . well, you're here. We can all see that. Do we have a best man?”

In answer, Horace stepped forward and stood by Will's side, putting his hand on his best friend's shoulder. The two looked at each other—a look that spoke more than any number of words could convey.

“Excellent,” the Baron continued. “Excellent choice.” He looked at the shaggy horse and sleek dog standing behind Will. “And these are . . . ?”

Before Will could reply, Horace spoke up. “Best horse and best dog,” he said.

“Excellent!” said the Baron. “A little unconventional, but excellent—so long as they don't have to sign anything!” He laughed at his own witticism. Tug pushed his head forward to study him more closely. The Baron became aware of the horse's scrutiny and looked down, hurriedly rearranging his papers.

“Behave,” Will said quietly to the horse, and Tug withdrew. Will was sure he was smirking.

Arald took a few moments to recover his normal ebullience, then he rubbed his hands together and scanned the assembly before him. Without being asked, those present had moved to form a loose half circle, facing the podium.

“Well then,” he said briskly. “It seems we're all here. Groom. Best man. Witnesses. Celebrant.” He paused and looked sidelong at Tug. “Best horse and best dog. Now all we need is the bride.”

And suddenly, without warning, Alyss was there. She stepped out of the trees to stand in a pool of light thrown by a lantern hanging from a branch.

Will caught his breath at the sight of her. She was beautiful, there was no other word for it. She was dressed in a simple white gown, with one shoulder bare. Her long blond hair, surmounted by a circlet of yellow flowers, gleamed in the lantern light, seeming to have its own light from within.

Later, thinking about it, he realized that this must have been a prearranged piece of theater on the Baron's part. And a very effective one too. Sometimes, he thought, Arald got it right. Alyss caught Will's gaze and smiled at him. He felt his heart turn over.

Quickly, Cassandra crossed the clearing to stand before Alyss as her matron of honor. Halt moved to Alyss's side and took her arm. Since Alyss was an orphan, she had asked Halt to act in place of her father and to give her away. He beamed at her. She was one of the few people who could elicit a smile so easily from the dour gray-bearded Ranger.

Seeing that everyone was ready, Baron Arald made a signal with one hand and a trio of musicians from the castle, previously concealed among the trees to one side, moved into the clearing and began to play. Alyss had selected the song and Will smiled as he recognized the gentle strains of “Cabin in the Trees.” It was the unofficial song of the Ranger Corps, the one they sang at every important event. She couldn't have chosen better.

He continued to smile at Alyss as she walked gracefully to stand beside him. It was a day for smiling, he thought happily. Halt took her hand from where it rested on his arm and placed it in Will's hand, then withdrew. Cassandra and Horace stepped back a pace to leave the bride and groom standing alone before Baron Arald.

“Well then,” he said, a huge smile on his face as he gazed at the two young people. “What a day this is! What a day indeed!”

 

The vows they spoke were simple and to the point. There's no need to repeat them here—suffice to say that they concerned love and loyalty and honesty. And duty to each other and caring. They came from the heart and their direct simplicity caught at the hearts of all those in attendance. Lady Pauline smiled gently as she noticed Halt surreptitiously wiping his eyes with a corner of his cloak.

She nudged him with her elbow. “You old fraud,” she whispered, and he nodded sheepishly. Halt had spent his life maintaining a bleak, forbidding demeanor. On this day, he simply couldn't keep it up.

Once the vows were exchanged, Arald pronounced the official, legal words that sealed the marriage. It seemed that only seconds had passed before he stepped back, smiling at the young couple, and spread his arms to them. For a moment, Will was nonplussed. He'd gone through the ceremony in a sort of a daze, captured by the presence of Alyss beside him, amazed at the thought that this day had come at last.

Now, he realized with a jolt, the day had come, and the ceremony was done. He and Alyss were bound to each other and he felt a warm, comforting glow deep within himself at the thought of it.

The Baron had said something, he realized, and people were looking at him expectantly.

Arald leaned forward and said, in a stage whisper that everyone could hear, “I said,
you may kiss the bride
.”

Will did so, with a degree of enthusiasm. He was delighted that Alyss responded in kind as the cheers and applause of his closest friends rang around the clearing.

Slowly the sound died down, and in the ensuing silence, one voice rang out.

“And about time too!”

Halt meant to say it jokingly, but before he realized it, there was a lump in his throat and a catch in his voice and he had to disguise it as a small coughing fit, turning away as he did so.

That way, he hoped, people would never notice the tears running so freely down his cheeks.

Hal nudged the steering oar gently and swung onto a diagonal course away from the coast, heading to the left, away from Hallasholm.
Heron
rose and fell smoothly under his feet as the swell rolled under her keel. The other boys had settled into a smooth rowing rhythm—one they could maintain for hours if necessary—and he exulted in the feeling of being under way, at the helm of his own ship.

Stig glanced up at him from his rowing bench.

“How does she handle?” he asked.

Hal grinned back at him. “Like a bird.”

MACFARLANE GENTLY PLACED THE FRAGMENT OF PARCHMENT ON the surface of his desk. The other nine stories found in the trunk had been carefully assembled, copied and preserved. Now this was all that was left—a tattered fragment with a few words written on it—barely a hundred words. In places, the ink was so faint that he could barely decipher it.

He had left this one till last—partly because it was incomplete and partly because, after his first quick inspection, he sensed that this was something different.

Using a long pair of tweezers, he moved the page until it was underneath his magnifying lens. Then he leaned forward and peered at the words, his lips moving soundlessly as he read them, hesitating when he reached the fainter sections and grateful for the strong light and the magnification.

Finally, he sat back, drumming his fingers on the table.

Audrey was sitting opposite him, in a fever of anticipation. As she had been the one to uncover the trunk, he thought it was only fair that she should be here when he finally transcribed this, the final piece.

“What is it, Professor?” she asked. “Is it important?”

There was no need for the second question, she thought. His expression and body language told her that it was. He looked at her.

“Yes, Audrey. As a matter of fact, it is.”

She waited, knowing that he would elaborate. After some seconds had passed, he continued.

“For some time now, those of us who have studied the world of Araluen and its heroes have been aware of another legend from that time. It's a legend of a young boy, half Araluen and half Skandian, who revolutionized the design of the Skandians' wolfships. But we've known little about him.”

Audrey frowned thoughtfully.“I think I recall a brief mention of him in the chronicle of Will's journey to Nihon-Ja,” she said thoughtfully, and the professor smiled at her.

“Precisely. But aside from that one fleeting reference, we've known nothing else about him. Now, it seems, we might have discovered a further clue to his story.”

“This fragment?” she said, nodding toward the tattered page on the desk between them.

“This fragment,” he said, nodding.“And if there is one page, there must have been others. And perhaps they still exist somewhere.”

Her eyes widened in excitement.“Do you think we could find the rest of his story, Professor?” she asked.

He smiled indulgently at her, enjoying her youth and her enthusiasm.

“Well, I certainly plan to try,” he said.

THE RANGER'S APPRENTICE EPIC

BOOK 1: THE RUINS OF GORLAN
BOOK 2: THE BURNING BRIDGE
BOOK 3: THE ICEBOUND LAND
BOOK 4: THE BATTLE FOR SKANDIA
BOOK 5: THE SORCERER OF THE NORTH
BOOK 6: THE SIEGE OF MACINDAW
BOOK 7: ERAK'S RANSOM
BOOK 8: THE KINGS OF CLONMEL
BOOK 9: HALT'S PERIL
BOOK 10: THE EMPEROR OF NIHON-JA

THE BROTHERBAND CHRONICLES

BOOK 1: THE OUTCASTS