The Swans' War 1 - The One Kingdom (14 page)

"Baore can sweep a rider from his saddle like that; and only a man of his strength can do this, but I have seen him trip up a horse.""Perhaps once," Baore said.” You lose your staff, more often.""You shouldn't tuck this under all the baggage, Baore," Cynddl said.” We're in the wildlands, after all. You can still meet lion here."They made a meal of pheasant and fish that Cynddl cooked in the Fael manner, and then they sat by the fire, speaking quietly. The light of the waxing moon fell through the twisted branches, entangling them all in a crazy web. Baore had found his whetstone and was busy honing arrowheads, the small motions looking for all the world like he struggled to get free. Fynnol lounged against a soft pile of their baggage, appearing bored to Tam.” And what stories have you found lying on the ground hereabout?" Fynnol asked Cynddl.” No stories that are complete," Cynddl said, apparently unaffected by Fynnol's goading.” Though I've tripped over a few things today." He pointed upriver.” An age ago two young girls from this village wandered up the river seeking fairy-caps, a kind of mushroom. Their hunt drew them farther from their homes than they meant to wander. To their horror they happened upon a band of men from one of the clans they were constantly at arms against. Into the river went the girls, striking out for the center and downstream, but the men took up their bows and shot one girl, and the other they dragged from the river unharmed. Unharmed until they had her ashore." Cynddl paused and drew a breath that did not go easily into his lungs.” I won't tell you more than that. Suffice it to say that there lingers here yet the hatred that act produced. It burns here like a fire beneath the land." He leaned back and thumped awkwardly against the tree behind him. He looked at Fynnol.” Count yourself lucky you weren't born a story finder, Fynnol Loell. There's many a story that will rob you of sleep and that no jest can make you forget." They were all silent then for a long time—only the rasp of steel on stone as Baore pursued his labors. Finally Cynddl excused himself and slipped out of the clearing where they made their camp.” Have you noticed," Fynnol said when their Fael companion was beyond hearing, "that we hear nothing but dark tales from our story finder? Perhaps he's only a finder of stories with unhappy endings." "Perhaps that's because men make so many such stories," Tam said softly. Fynnol looked up at his cousin.” I'm sorry, Tarn. Sometimes I forget what happened to your father.""And I envy you that, Fynnol," Tarn said.

They rolled up in their blankets, glad to have come a little farther from the mountains, to where the night air wasn't quite so cool.

Tam must have slept for a time. When he woke, the moon had traveled into the west. He saw movement on the edge of the camp, but when he sat up and reached for his sword, he realized it was Cynddl walking back and forth from shadow to moonlight. Tam rolled quietly out of his blankets and approached the story finder.

"Has something wakened you?" Tam whispered.

"Yes, but nothing hereabout. Nothing 'real,' as Fynnol might say." Cynddl was only a silhouette, but his oddly stooped carriage made him seem at home among the twisted trees.

"It is just this place and the stories that were made here." Cynddl stopped walking and raised his hands, fingers splayed like branches.” The horrors of this place I can't begin to tell, nor would you want to hear.""Perhaps they're only stories, Cynddl," Tam said. Tam could see Cynddl's head tilt to one side as he regarded the Valeman.” No, Tam; there are the stories that men tell, and the stories that they live. Here I've found too many stories they lived."The Fael went back to his pacing, too agitated to be still.” You should sleep, Tam. Don't take up the habits of a story finder—awake at all hours, lost in thought when one should be enjoying the company of friends. No, sleep now and treasure your companions and your journey. The stories of men are mine to bear."

THEY SPENT TWO DAYS BENEATH THE TWISTED TREES, AND THEN Cynddl announced it was time to leave, offering no explanation for his decision. They pressed on at sunrise the next morning beneath a high haze, a sky the indeterminate color of a newborn's eyes.” Today we'll find the ford at Willowwand, I think." Cynddl was gazing at the map. He looked up at the riverbanks.” The land is starting to appear familiar now, and the river valley has grown broad." The river carried them along in its lazy current, in no hurry to reach the distant sea, and the day was warm. Everyone lounged as best they could, but Cynddl, who, despite sleeping less than the others, seemed to be the only one alert. Tam was having trouble keeping his eyes open. The high thin cloud filtered the sunlight and the day seemed very still, the sounds of the forest and river unnaturally clear.” Tam?" Cynddl said, rousing Tam from his revery.” The current seems faster." Fynnol, who was curled in the bow, sat up. Suddenly he pointed.” Rocks!" "The ford at Willowwand," Cynddl said. He stood, careful not to rock the boat, and shaded his eyes, looking warily around, his shoulders bunched up, one fist clenched.” It appears to be clear," he said, though Tam was not sure what he meant. "Is there water enough for us to pass?" Baore asked.” What... ? Oh, I think so. Stay to the center. At worst we'll have to lighten the load by stepping out and helping the boat along for a few yards."Without warning, Baore reached out and pulled Cynddl off his feet, and just as he did so an arrow whistled past. Tarn threw himself down. Cynddl recovered and already was stringing his bow. Arrows began to strike the sides of the boat and pierce the baggage with soft but unnerving thups. Tam had his bow in hand, but it was hard to move as he sprawled in the stern trying to keep all of himself hidden. He heard Cynddl's bow sing, and then again.

"There!" the Fael yelled.” Beneath the willows!" Tam sprang up and loosed an arrow where Cynddl pointed. Men in dark purple tunics scrambled beneath the trees. He heard them shouting and calling out. Fynnol had found his bow as well, and they sent the men on the shore into retreat, more than one figure staggering with an arrow buried hard in flesh.

As soon as the air was clear, Baore shipped a pair of oars and the boat surged forward. The other three watched the banks, arrows nocked. Tam could hear them all breathing hard.

"Have we beaten them off?" Fynnol asked, almost breathless.

"For the moment," Cynddl said.” Has anyone taken hurt?" No one had, though there were half a dozen arrows protruding from their boat in various places. They'd come to the ford proper now, and the bank was low and open to the east, a meadow of grass and a few trees spreading back into the forest. To the west the forest leaned out over the water, and the road could be seen curving up into the wood. Tam found himself looking furiously about, expecting men behind every tree.

Suddenly, horsemen appeared from out of a grove, galloping fiercely across the grass toward the center of the ford.

Tam could hear the drumming of the hooves and see the turf thrown up. Dark horse tails streamed from the riders' helms, and the sun glinted brightly off polished steel. The riders were attempting to intercept the boat before it escaped into deep water. At that same moment, the bowmen emerged from behind the willows, but bearing swords and shields now. They, too, raced toward the ford.” River take them!" Fynnol swore, dropped his bow, and jumped to the oars, pulling with desperate energy. Tam and Cynddl kept shooting at the swordsmen who ran along the embankment, but the bobbing of the boat as the oarsmen rowed made accuracy all but impossible. Tam tried to gauge the speed of the horsemen, but it was difficult. It almost seemed that they might yet escape, slip through the ford before anyone could reach them.” We need to save our arrows!" he yelled, reaching out and grabbing Cynddl by the arm. The horsemen bearing down on them wore black sur-coats and carried round shields and the short iron-tipped lances used for boar hunting. Fluttering from the tips of these were red streamers, which Tam knew were meant to absorb the blood from a kill and keep the lance from becoming slick.” Shoot the horses!" Fynnol yelled. But Cynddl held up a hand to stop Tam.” Their trappings will protect them." He stared a moment more, then said, "We won't pass ahead of them." "Yes, we will," Baore shouted. He had torn the seams of his shirt from his efforts so that it hung from him like rags. Tam worried that the oars would not stand up to the strain.” Again!" Cynddl said, and they released another volley of arrows as the riders reached the shore. The horsemen plunged on in a shower of spray, one toppling from his saddle as an arrow struck. The Fael bows were deadly at this distance. Tam looked ahead. They'd come into the ford now, and the oars were finding bottom with each stroke. But the riders had found a deeper channel and this slowed them, giving Tarn hope. But then they surged up into shallows and resumed their headlong flight, spray flying all around them. Not far behind them the swordsmen came. Seven men on foot, four left on horse, for two were floundering in the water, wounded. Tarn counted eleven armed men. He sent another arrow into the shield of one of the riders and just then was thrown from his feet as the boat ground to a halt on the river bottom.

Cynddl was the first to recover. He jumped into the water and resumed shooting. The others were quickly over the side, Baore and Fynnol dragging the boat forward, Tarn and Cynddl trying to gain them time. A third rider toppled from his saddle slowly, like a falling tree, and then a blossom of spray flew up where he hit the water. Tam loosed an arrow at the men on foot, knowing that if the riders held them up for even a moment, the men on foot would be on them. They couldn't stand against so many.

Suddenly Baore swept up his staff and Cynddl leapt for his sword. The first rider bore down upon them, crimson fluttering at the end of a lowered lance. He went for Baore, who sidestepped deftly, surprising the rider, and then with a mean thrust sent the rider rolling into the shallow water. The man came up to his knees without a helm and went down again as an iron-shod staff cracked his skull.

Cynddl hamstrung the next horse, and the rider fell beneath his crippled beast. But luck was not with them entirely and, trying to escape the lance of the next rider, Fynnol collided with the horse and was thrown a dozen feet.

Tam shot him coldly in the side so that the man hung over his horse's neck and spurred it on, hoping to escape a second arrow.

Baore waded quickly to Fynnol, who was floundering in the water, dazed and injured. The big Valeman picked his cousin up and laid him in the bottom of the boat. Then, in a surge of strength, he seized the bow and dragged the boat on. Tam and Cynddl fired again at the advancing footmen, but they put up their shields and came on, though slowed by the river and tired from running. Cynddl fired below the shields at the men's legs, causing them to crouch and slow even more. As Tam reached for an arrow in the boat he saw Fynnol lying there, his face contorted in pain. But there was no blood and he was certainly conscious. Cynddl tossed his bow into the stern and helped Baore drag the boat forward. Suddenly they surged ahead as the boat came free of the bottom and they ran with it, leaving Tam as rear guard. He kept pace with the boat, stopping to fire, then running again. Their attackers reached shallow water and flew forward, bent low, howling as they came.” Tam!" Cynddl called, and Tam glanced back to see the Fael waving a sword in the air, pulling the boat with his other hand. Tam turned and ran, hearing the staccato sound of men racing through water behind him. As he neared the boat Baore leapt aboard and took up a pair of oars, and Cynddl, looking back toward Tam, jumped into the stern, bracing himself with his sword at the ready. The water was suddenly over his knees and Tam leapt up with each step, trying to speed forward. Suddenly Cynddl had hold of his arm and dragged him aboard even as he swung his sword. Tam tumbled onto the floorboards, groping for his blade. He heard steel ring on steel. Tam sprang back up, the boat rocking wildly. Cynddl was pounding his pommel on the helm of a man who had hold of him, while a second ran up, sword raised awaiting a clear stroke. Tam ran his swcrcd up the mail sleeve of Cynddl's attacker and the manhow\ed, sptmgVngbackaiad stamblingm front of his companions. Dazed, Tam looked back, thinking for a second that they had escaped. But then the attackers parted, a horseman charging through them, his lance down. Tam caught a glimpse of the man's face beneath the helm—grim and remorseless, filled with rage over his fallen companions.

Tarn was so tired and stunned by what had happened that he wavered there dumbly. Cynddl had collapsed in the boat beside him. Tarn grabbed the story finder by the shoulder and hauled him up. But just as the horseman was about to run his lance into one of them, his horse plunged into deep water and came to a near stop.

The man bellowed in anger and frustration. He tried to throw his lance, but his swimming horse turned for the bank unbidden, and the lance passed over them harmlessly.

Tarn sat back on their covered baggage, trying desperately to catch his breath. The oars stopped then, and Tarn looked back to see Baore lying in the boat, gasping for breath, spent from his efforts. Tarn turned back to the horseman and the few men on foot gathered around him. They waved their weapons and cursed the boat as it drew away on the current.

Suddenly, from behind, there came a shout of defiance and triumph, and Tarn looked back to find Fynnol standing, clutching his side but holding aloft the horseman's dripping lance that he had plucked from the water. He shook it at their attackers, and then dropped to his knees, tears streaking his face. He sobbed, unashamed.