The Swans' War 1 - The One Kingdom (23 page)

pear in the deepening blue. The conversation seemed to meander, like the river running below.

"This reminds me of the night we met Alaan, in the old keep by the bridge," Baore said, breaking his silence. He ate sparingly, and not with his usual enthusiasm.

" 'You can't keep what you have.' Isn't that what the man-at-arms said?" Cynddl bent over the fire and began slicing off more meat.” I wonder what Alaan had that they wanted?""Whatever it was, they didn't find it, or they wouldn't be chasing after us still," Fynnol said. He sat up and looked through the gap in the wall, onto the rubble of stone below.” What was this you said, Cynddl?" he asked.” The Knights sang 'Bloodwing'? What was that?""Bloodwing was the sword of Prince Deedd. I'm surprised you've not heard of it. There is a song that tells its story: a long list of carnage, really. 'From his steed the dire knight fell. Bloodwing, Bloodwing, gate to hell.' I don't know enough to sing it for you, but it's a gruesome song, and artless as well. Armies would take it up as they went into battle."

"And what happened to it? The sword.""Bloodwing? I don't remember if the song tells, but it was sung here, in this very place, as the Renné attacked."Tam reached out a hand and patted the wall he leaned against.” This seems a likely place for a story finder, Cynddl," he said.” I can almost hear the stories of this place myself."Fynnol laughed.” Maybe you should start listening to the river, Tam—like Eber. Perhaps it will whisper your name as well."

Cynddl ignored Fynnol.” There is sorrow here, Tam, and deeper sorrow beneath that—like an underground river. There was tragedy in this place, even before the Knights fell to the Renné . That's what I think.""I feel the sorrow as well," Baore said, a little defensively.” I can't explain it. But even more strongly, I feel a hatred and bitterness that's not mine own. An ache for vengeance... against whom I can't say, but I feel it." The big Valeman looked quickly back to his food, his face coloring a little.

No one spoke for a moment, even Fynnol keeping his tongue in check.

"Here is a truth I have learned while finding stories," Cynddl said.” We are alive, though briefly. Then we are memory, for the lives of those who knew us. And then we are story. Story lasts longest of all—if there is any story to tell.

"Some write their story across a single field or the walls of a cottage. Some write them across an entire land, an entire age." Cynddl looked out the gap where the battle had been fought. He held a small stone in his hand and tapped it on another as though marking time.” One day a story finder might come to this place and find the tale of three northerners and a Fael who journeyed down the river. What will he make of us, I wonder? Four men whose stories went nowhere at all? Or will we make stories worth finding? Will we scratch the stories of your lives upon the wall of a cottage or across the sky?"Fynnol laughed suddenly.” If we had a chisel we could carve our names into the roll of the Knights of the Vow. Who would know any different?"This made even Cynddl laugh.

A wind came sweeping up the river then. Tam could see it brush the water back and bow the trees. The hiss of fluttering leaves reached them, and then a cool breeze curled over the fallen wall, luffing their clothes like sails.

"A storm is coming," Cynddl said, standing and staring up at the sky. A thin dark haze streaked the sky overhead, and all around the horizon black clouds gathered.” We'd best find some shelter."Supper went down in a trice and the four gathered up their belongings. The only shelter they could find was on the stair to the main gate, which had been carved through the rock of the island and was protected by a roof of stone all the way to the first landing. Very quickly their belongings were shifted there, and then they returned to the top of the crimson cliff to watch the storm sweeping in from the south.” Look at these clouds!" Fynnol said.” Like the smoke from a great fire. As though the lands to the south have all been set aflame." But Tam thought it looked like a bruise, overspreading the world from a terrible wound on the far horizon. They stood a moment more, feeling the wind press against them, piercing their clothes to send its chill into the flesh. And then the surface of the river appeared to erupt, as though a thousand fish had all touched the surface at once.” Hail!" Tam said, and they ran for the shelter of the stairs. The hailstones, however, were quicker and caught them at the stair head, pelting the companions and rolling treacherously underfoot. In a moment they were all under the canopy of stone, staring out at a river riddled with driving hail. Occasional stones bounced and rolled down the steps, coming to rest near them and melting quickly away. And then, as swiftly as it had come, the hail turned to rain. The sky was black now, and the failing evening light was snuffed like a candle. Far off, thunder drummed, and then lightning flashed so close, Tam was blinded for a moment. Thunder seemed to reverberate from the rock around them, shaking the keep as though the earth trembled in fear. The Valemen threw themselves down on their belongings and pulled blankets around their shoulders. They sat gazing out at the river, which appeared in the flickers of lightning. Above the wildly swaying trees, distant lightning forked, and sent peals of thunder crashing and echoing among the hills. Conversation was impossible and the companions fell quiet. Baore tucked up his knees and buried his face there, pulling his wounded arm free and covering his ears with his hands. Cynddl wandered down to the foot of the stair and stood gazing at the chaos. Here we make our story, Tam thought, though I'm no storyteller and haven't the skill of it. Nor have I the understanding of our tale so far. Why were these men lying in wait for Alaan? And why do they continue to pursue us? It is all well and good for Cynddl to talk about making one's story, but I cant even begin to understand the story I've fallen into.

It was true, though, as Cynddl said: life was short, memory limited to the lives of others, but stories lasted. It seemed to Tarn just then, with the storm raging around him, that men flickered into being like lightning, cut a single stroke into the earth, and were gone, but the single stroke they made might last for hundreds of years. A brief instant to find one's place in the larger story, and then darkness.

He heard the murmurs, the whispers and cries masked by the thunder. All around him Cynddl could feel the stirrings, feel them growing like desire long denied. Lightning flashed and he saw boats on the river—a small armada sailing beneath waving banners, moonlight glittering dully on helms and armor. And then it was dark and there was only the image in the mind. Who were these men and when had they come here?

The lightning fell again, and thunder rumbled around the walls of the keep like falling stone. Seven men stood atop the wall, illuminated by lightning, and when the light faded, they leapt. Seven men, tumbling through darkness. Men he knew ... from somewhere.

Without realizing, Cynddl had wandered out onto the quay and into the teeming rain. The cold water streamed down his neck and streaked his back. He felt his clothes plastered against his skin—but there were too many whispers and murmurs to care about cold and rain.

A man stood nearby, draped in a long black surcoat. He stared up at the gate. And then he was gone into the darkness, swept off on the screaming wind.

"Find me at Death's gate," a voice whispered in the thunder.” Find me...."Cynddl had been driven down onto the stone, or perhaps he'd slipped. But he crouched there, buffeted by the gusts, blinding rain slatting down around him like dripping darkness. His knuckles were bleeding and one knee throbbed. The river had risen and swept past, gurgling and hissing.

"What is it you say?" Cynddl asked aloud, but his words were drowned in the chaos.

"At Death's gate ..."

He is a man reborn, Cynddl thought. Reborn. But who...?

In a bright burst of lightning he saw the seven plummet into the black river, but only six surfaced. Only six struggling with the speeding current.

Lightning fell so close that Cynddl covered his ears to shut out the thunder. Closing his eyes he saw the wall give way and crumble into the river, and then it swarmed with men. In the harsh moonlight the rocks ran crimson.

There was burning, and men feeding the blaze in a frenzy. Cynddl could see the silhouettes running, adding fuel to the flame, and then he realized: books! They were burning books in the courtyard above. Knights of the Vow bore armfuls of books and scrolls and threw them on the pyre.

Cynddl looked up and saw the man in the black surcoat going stiffly up the stairs, as though injured. The sky burst open, and in the blaze of light Cynddl saw a face at the edge of the quay. It gazed at him with eyes pale as the moon, hair streaming like kelp, a white arm laid along the wet stone. And then darkness returned, and he blinked the rain from his eyes. A hand clutched him under the arm.

"Cynddl... Are you hurt?" It was Tarn, standing over him, raising him up.

"He came here!" Cynddl said, not rising.” Who?" Tarn called, but a peal of thunder rolled over his words.

"He journeyed here, to Cooling Keep . . ." Cynddl shouted, "the man reborn. To loose the hatred!""Tell me this story under shelter," Tarn shouted over the din.” Can you stand?""I've twisted my knee."

"Come, I'll help you," Tarn yelled.

With the Valeman supporting him, Cynddl hobbled in under the roof of stone, going painfully up the steps. Tarn lowered him onto a bag of clothing and found a blanket to wrap him. Water was seeping down the stairs now, and the Valemen inhabited a small island, a patch of steps that remained dry. They huddled here while around them the sky made war on the earth.

Tam pulled the blanket closer and sat watching as the night was torn apart over and over. In the flashes of lightning he could see Cynddl, who gazed fixedly at the river, his dark eyes glittering in the bursts of brilliance.

As each spear of light struck the earth, shadows fled across the walls and beneath the trees, as though some god hunted them for sport. The names of the Knights of the Vow, etched into the wall, appeared and disappeared: Dalian A'dair, Ashen Korr . . . Gilbert A'brgail, Simll D'or. Each time the darkness returned Tam lost his place reading the ghostly roll, and he would find his gaze running over the same name again and again until finally he gave it up and closed his eyes. The explosions of light, however, could not be shut out so easily and registered on the eye all the same.

Tam awoke to silence, or so it seemed after the tumult of the storm. The world was still, the air fragrant. In the darkness, water dripped and trickled. Moonlight dappled down through the trees beyond the gate and silvered the river. For a while Tam listened to the sounds of the night: the water murmuring, a nighthawk's call, the staccato songs of insects.

Someone stood on the quay, Tam realized: the Fael story finder, he was sure. Tam rose from his blanket, damp and chill, and his shadow hurried down the stair before him.” Are you well, Cynddl?" The story finder looked over his shoulder and nodded. He flexed one leg.” My knee is stiff, but no more." In the north Tam could see dull flashes in the clouds, and the distant, muffled rumble of thunder reached him. Overhead the sky was bright with stars.” The storm passed quickly." Cynddl nodded.” What were you doing out here in the rain?" Tam said.” You looked... well, when I came to help you up, you looked at me as though I were a stranger." "I don't know what happened," Cynddl said. He lowered himself stiffly to the bottom step and shivered visibly.” It was as though the storm released the stories that had been fading here for so Jong. Or perhaps they came flooding down the river with the rain. I don't know. But they swept over me in waves until I was reeling. I saw strange things. I don't quite know what they mean, yet." He pointed up at the towering walls.” Seven men plunged from the battlements into the river. Seven men, but only six survived. Six men who fled north, pursued by the Renné .” And up in the high courtyard Knights burned all the books and scrolls, even as Ceile A'gnnel and Hallen Gann stood in the gap and sang their terrible dirge and threw the Renné back, and threw them back again." "Six Knights... but you talked of six Knights who crossed over Telanon Bridge?" Cynddl nodded.” Yes. Stories are always thus. I find fragments here and there, but every part has a place if you can only find it." Tam could see Cynddl move in the faint light, like a man unsure whether he would stand or sit or do something else altogether. His hands went from his knees to the stone step, to his forehead, and then he rubbed his eyes as though they still burned from the things he'd seen. "The Renné didn't destroy the Knights of the Vow simply because disloyalty and betrayal were in their nature," Cynddl went on.” There was another reason, though I don't yet know what it was: perhaps they wanted the books and scrolls that were destroyed." He tilted his head toward the stair.” But another has been here before us...." He closed his eyes and put a hand to the side of his head, as though it pained him.” But I don't know what he sought," he said bleakly.” Was this the man reborn you spoke of?" Cynddl nodded distractedly.” I need to go south now, Tarn. South with all speed.""Then this is why you've come here," Tam said, "to learn the story of the Knights?"Cynddl became very still for a moment, and then he shook his head.” No, Tam. I came to this place because the Fael who study such things believe that a sorcerer once made his home here—when people still dwelt in the Greensprings. Long before the Knights built Cooling Keep. I have come to find his story. To learn the manner of his death, and discover what became of his knowledge."This silenced Tam. He could not have been more surprised, and not just by what the Fael had said but by the fact that he had answered at all.” And what happened to this sorcerer?" he asked quietly.

"Caibre was his name and he was defeated—defeated in a long war by his most bitter enemy—and then banished ... into a dream, perhaps. I can't really say. Perhaps to the land of death. And though he might have stood before the gate, Tam, he didn't pass through. That's what I think.""Like Baore's dream..." Tam said.” Why do the Fael want to know this?"Cynddl shrugged.” Some of my people you don't question, Tam. When they ask that you perform a task, you accept it as an honor." He pointed toward the river, his fine-boned hand frost white in the moonlight.” I saw our apparition again, as well—there, watching me in the midst of the storm.