The Swans' War 1 - The One Kingdom (38 page)

THE MOMENT BAORE HAD PRONOUNCED THEIR CRAFT SEAWORthy the minstrels had loaded their belongings aboard and pushed out into the south-going current. They'd hardly waved good-bye, such was their haste. Before leaving, Gartnn had pressed a few small coins on Baore—almost an insult for all that he'd done. Better to have accepted the shipwright's efforts as a gift than pay him a tenth what his efforts were worth, but Gartnn wouldn't take no for an answer.

The companions watched the boat go, the low light of late afternoon glistening on the freshly painted planks. Tarn could see the boat rock gently as the minstrels settled themselves and Gartnn took up the oars.

"It was the women," Fynnol pronounced.” Gartnn was jealous of them.""It was the nagar," Cynddl said.” Who would choose to travel with men who are haunted by such a creature? I wouldn't. I only hope they don't spread this news down the river before us."This killed the conversation, and the companions turned back to their small tasks, leaving the minstrels' boat to dwindle and disappear down the uncertain river.

Fynnol seemed much recovered from his encounter with the nagar, though the hand that held Tarn's sword still tingled and occasionally felt a little numb. But even this seemed to be healing fast. This act of bravado had its effect, however, and Fynnol and Baore seemed almost to be on speaking terms again.

Tam cut open the white belly of a fish that Cynddl had caught not half an hour before, but then he remembered something and looked up.” Did you notice," he said, "when Fynnol attacked the nagar the one named Angeline called herself'Elise'?" Cynddl turned his gaze upward a moment.” I hadn't noticed. But then, minstrels often give themselves noble names, no matter how humble their own name or beginnings." Tam scooped out the pink and white guts and dipped the fish in the water, splashing it around to clean it.” Perhaps that's the answer. I'm just suspicious of anyone the river brings us. That is the truth of it. I'm beginning to feel like Baore. The sooner we are off this river the happier I'll be." Over the next few days the rejuvenated boat of the minstrels would appear now and then, for the river carried them all toward the sea at the same pace. In the distance Tam would see the large parasol of the women, and then suddenly oars would flash out and the boat would pull away, making Tam feel like some kind of scoundrel to be avoided at all costs. Despite their travels on the secret river, Tam and the others could not quite believe that they were so far south. It appeared that they had traveled leagues and leagues in half a fortnight. It is as though we have fallen asleep and drifted on, unknowing, Cynddl had said, carried by the current, only to wake, days later, far down the river. The wildlands seemed very distant here; though in truth, there were still large expanses of forest separating the inhabited valleys. Between villages on opposite shores, ferries plied the river, too wide to span with bridges, and Tam and his companions would wave as they passed these decrepit craft, cattle lowing in return. The land was more populous; and the towns, though not too close together, swelled beyond their original protective walls as though they had no fear of brigands or war.

Farm boys in leaky skiffs would row out to sell new potatoes and poultry, fresh bread and parsnips. Cynddl's skills as a fisherman and Tarn's archery were less in use, though their purses grew lighter for it.

At the joining of the river with a good-sized tributary they stopped at a village, partly to supplement their food, but also from boredom and the need for the company of others. Tam was at the oars and ran the boat up on a low, grassy embankment where many other craft lay. As they slid their boat over the grass, Fynnol pointed at a newly painted craft.

"Well, here are our fugitive minstrels! Ungrateful wretches that they are. Perhaps we shall have an explanation for their rudeness yet.""I don't think that's likely," Tam said.” Not unless they need their boat repaired again. They probably feel they are above the likes of us—men from the wilds, after all. 'Wild-men' they likely call us.""Well, let's find what we need in this town and be on our way," Baore said. He bent over their belongings, fiddling with some lines.” I don't need any accounting from Gartnn and the others. The way they've treated us is explanation enough."Though the village was not large the minstrels were nowhere to be seen. Tam began to wonder if they'd found a better boat here and bought it, leaving their leaky old tub behind—but then they'd claimed to have little money and had certainly paid Baore as if that were true.

Fynnol quickly found the one inn the town boasted and they retreated there for ale, the one item all but Cynddl claimed to miss on their journey. The story finder did not join them.

"Come from far?" the tapsman asked as he delivered their foaming mugs. He was a balding man with a torso not unlike a beer barrel in shape and size.

"From the Vale of Lakes," Fynnol said.

The man knit his brows.” Now, there's a place I've never heard of. Is it beyond the Sweetwater, then?" "It is beyond the Wold of Kerns," Fynnol said jovially.” In fact, it is beyond Inniseth, and even the Lion's Maw. Beyond Telanon Bridge, nigh up under the shoulder of the great mountains." The man looked at Fynnol, clearly saying that the price of a mug of beer allowed one certain license, but there were limits.” Enjoy your ale, then," he said.” So far north you've likely only heard tell of it." The man went back to his labors. Fynnol smiled at the others and lifted his glass.” To our first ale," he said, and took a long drink.” Ahhh! Its legend was not overstated." Fynnol turned to two men sitting at the nearest table.” And what do young men do for diversion in this town?" The two looked up at him as though this was perhaps the stupidest question they had ever been asked.” They leave," one of the men said, with a hint of bitterness in his voice.” Well, perhaps we shall follow this example," Fynnol said quickly. The tapsman looked up from his labors.” There are three minstrels here this night—quite renowned, if you believe them. Two of them comely ladies. They'll play beneath the trees on the riverbank." The Valemen looked at one another.” I wonder," Tam said, "if the money Gartnn paid Baore will equal entrance to their performance?" The townsfolk collected beneath a stand of shaggy chestnut trees where colored lanterns glittered in the boughs. Just beyond lazed the river, the voice heard at Speaking Stone having fallen to a whisper. Blankets were spread upon the grass where families lounged, children nestled in their parents' arms. Few musicians of Gartnn's stature stopped here, and the townsfolk showed their respect by listening intently. The Valemen were forced to admit that Gartnn, Angeline, and Elffen were as skilled players as they'd ever heard—as skilled as the Fael who'd wintered in the Vale.

Some movement in the shadows beyond the lanterns caught Tarn's eye and, as he stared, a tall man leading a magnificent horse emerged from the darkness. In the poor light Tarn recognized the garb of a woodsman—a traveler: a leather vest over cotton shirt, sandy hair bound back with a band of cloth about the forehead. The man's thin face had the largest features: a long nose, big eyes, and an outsized mouth. In some peculiar way he was an impressive man.

Rather than sit, the traveler lingered at the edge of the crowd, rocking from one foot to the other, his gaze darting about as though he were afraid of being seen listening to minstrels.

The singing of the two women called for Tarn's attention again, and he turned away. Elffen had the finer voice of the two women, Tarn concluded, but Angeline's displayed more emotion, and her playing was better, though not so good as Gartnn's.

The recital came to an end, the townsfolk showing their appreciation with enthusiastic applause. Blankets were gathered up from the grass and sleeping children gently lifted by whispering parents. The crowd funneled back onto the path that led into the village, which had been built above the spring flood line.

Tarn was surprised to find Angeline blocking his way, her face flushed from the success of their performance. He bowed quickly, not knowing what to say.

"Will you walk with me a moment?" she said.

"Are you sure you want to be seen with—" He couldn't think of a word, and said, "someone to be avoided?"Angeline drew a breath and released a sigh. She crinkled up her eyes as though in slight pain.” Just for a moment, if you will?"Tarn allowed himself to be led through the throng, people paying Angeline compliments as they went. Near the river-bank they stopped, not far from where the boats were drawn up and just beyond hearing of anyone else.” I know Gartnn paid Baore insultingly little: far less than he deserved. It was chary of him and unnecessary as well. Let me make it up. What would be a fair price for such labor?" "I should not name a price for Baore's labor," Tarn said.” He offered to do it out of kindness, anyway, expecting nothing in return." Elise nodded, her eyes crinkling up again.” That is why I've asked you. I know Baore was insulted. He wouldn't name a price to make it right now." "Nor will I," Tam said. He gave the smallest bow and turned to go, not sure why he was spurning this attempt at rapprochement. Was he so proud? "Tam . . ." she said as he turned.” I've seen that thing again. That wraith that came from the river. What is it? What could it want of me?" Tam stopped, looking at Angeline in the colored light from the lanterns. Her pretty face was garish—red and orange— and contorted in fear and pain.” I don't know what it is or what it wants," Tam said.” It saved Baore's life far up the river, and has followed us ever since as though it has some claim on him now. He swears it spoke to him in his delirium, and whispers in his dreams even yet. But we'll be free of the river soon, and then it can't follow us, or so we believe. The nagar is a creature of the Wynnd." Tam noticed Gartnn walking under the trees, looking about as though he'd lost something. Then he spotted Angeline and set out toward her with a determined gait, Elffen in tow. The riverbank was all but deserted now. Only a few boys remained to climb up into the trees and fetch the lanterns down.” Your keeper is coming," Tam said, nodding to the minstrel.

"Tarn ... ?" Cynddl appeared a few feet away, Fynnol and Baore at his shoulder.

They met on that same patch of grass—the minstrels and the companions—all of them hesitating for a moment.

"We should let these gentlemen be on their way," Gartnn said firmly.

Angeline looked in his direction, her gaze sliding off Gartnn and back to the ground before her feet. A small brittle smile appeared, then faded.

"You are Gartnn," a man said.

Tarn looked up to find the traveler, the man who'd been leading the magnificent horse, standing a few feet away, still holding his mount by its bridle.

"And who are you that asks?" Gartnn said, though it had not seemed like a question to Tarn. Gartnn stepped back, clearly a bit apprehensive.

"I am Pwyll, a friend of ..." He cast an uncertain glance at the Valemen.

"These are friends," Angeline said firmly, causing Gartnn to look at her oddly. But he did not gainsay her.

"I am a friend of your traveling friend," Pwyll said.” He had sent me to search you out to tell you that you must leave the river, but it is too late for that." He glanced over his shoulder up toward the town.” You've been found. There is no time for discussion. The river is your only hope now." He glanced back toward the shadows that lay beneath the trees, and Tarn's eyes followed.

The last few stragglers disappeared toward the village, taking the colored lamps with them. Tarn could see other movement there: men keeping to the shadows, advancing silently toward them.

"Into your boat now," the stranger said quietly, drawing his sword.

Tarn looked up toward the village once more and saw a glint of starlight on steel.” Men-at-arms," he hissed.

Cynddl and the Valemen had seen enough of armed men that they acted immediately. In a heartbeat they were pushing their boat out into the river, even as they found their weapons. The minstrels stood mutely staring into the shadows. Tarn abandoned his companions and grabbed the bow of the minstrel's craft.” Help me!" he called Gartnn. Elise came to her senses, and grabbed hold of the boat, desperately heaving the heavily loaded craft toward the river. Finally Gartnn and Elffen recovered from their moment of shock and lent a hand. Tarn glanced back as he pushed the minstrels' boat out into the river, then splashed through the water to leap into the stern of his own. He could see the silhouette of the stranger, upon his horse now, gliding into a shadow. Cynddl tapped him on the shoulder with a bow and Tarn felt the yaka wood passed into his hands. Baore was at the oars, pulling toward the center of the broad river. In the other boat Gartnn did the same, though not with such speed. Suddenly there was a shout and Tarn could see dark figures running beneath the trees.

A horseman appeared—the man called Pwyll—and Tam struggled to make out what was going on. There was movement where the moonlight filtered through the trees. Movement that flickered like dying flames. A scream echoed over the river, and then the sound of steel ringing. Tam could just make out Pwyll, whose horse spun and kicked and bit, as chargers were trained to do. Straining, Tam could see men lurking in the broken moonlight, looking for a chance to hamstring the charger or take the rider from his saddle.” Baore! Hold up a moment." Tam nocked an arrow and let it fly at the armed men, knowing it would be only luck if he hit anything but moonlight. Three more arrows he sent toward the men, causing shouting and confusion. Suddenly Pwyll cut down a man and then galloped through a gap in the circle, disappearing into the night.

"Row on," Tam said, sinking back down.

A crack sounded to his left. Gartnn had broken an oar and leapt to his feet, shipping his remaining oar in the sculling notch in the stern. This slowed the mintrels' boat even more.

Tam nocked another arrow, gazing at the riverbank. Moonlight found its way down among the trees, illuminating patches of gray. Across these, shadows would dash, too quick for Tarn's arrows.

Men called out, and along the bank others answered. Three men appeared in a pool of moonlight.

"They're wearing black surcoats!" Cynddl said.” Look!"Tam stared at the men, but it was hard to be sure. Certainly their robes were dark.