As we stood under the moon in that secret place of stone, the
gryphon blazing on my breast, Toross slipped from my hold to the
ground. I knelt beside him, drawing the garment from his chest that
I might see his hurt. His head lay against my knee, and from his
lips a stream of blood trickled. That he had come this far was a
thing hardly to be believed when I saw the wound exposed. Enough of
Dame Math's healing knowledge was mine to know that it was indeed a
death blow, though I slit my underlinen with his knife and made a
pad to halt the seepage.
I gentled his head against me. In so very little could I ease
the passing of this man who had given his life that I might live.
In the light of the gryphon and the moon I could well see his
face.
What twisting of fate had brought us two together? Had I allowed
myself, I might have wanted to joyfully welcome Toross for my lord.
Why had I not?
In the library of the Abbey I had found many curious pieces of
lore not generally taught, perhaps considered mysteries of the
Flame. And one such roll of runes I now remembered — that a man —
or woman — does not live a single life, but rather returns to this
world at another time for the purpose of paying some debt that he
or she owes to another. Therefore in each life one is bound to some
other by ties that are not of this life and time, but reach far
back into a past no seer can delve. Toross had been drawn to me
from the first, so much so that he had nearly dimmed the honor of
his House to seek me out, to urge upon me a similar feeling.
Though I had held fast against him, yet he had come here to die
in my arms, because my life meant more to him than his own. What
debt had he owed me, if that old belief were true? Or had he now
laid some debt upon me that must be paid in turn?
His head moved in my hold. I leaned close to hear his
whisper:
"Water—"
Water! I had none. To my knowledge the closest lay far, the river
a long distance from us. I took up my skirt, still heavily
dampened, and wiped his face, wishing bitterly that I could give
him such a little thing. Then I saw in the dead-white radiance,
which seemed so intense in this place, that plants grew about the
paved space. Tall as my shoulder they stood, with great, fleshy
leaves outspread in the moonlight And on those were drops of
silver. I recognized a plant Dame Math had used. Yet hers had been
very small compared to these. These plants had the art of
condensing water on their leaves with the coming of night's
cool.
Gently I laid Toross down and went to gather this unexpected
boon, tearing off the largest leaves with care, lest I spill their
precious cargo. And I brought them to wet his lips, eased a few
drops into his mouth. So little it was that I despaired, but
perhaps the leaves had some healing quality they imparted to those
droplets, for these seemed to satisfy his thirst.
I took him up again, and as I settled his head against me, his
eyes opened and he knew me. He smiled.
"My — lady — "
I would have hushed him, not for what he said, but that it
wasted his strength, and of that he had so little left. But he
would not have it so.
"I — knew — my — lady — from — the — first — I saw you." His
voice grew stronger as he talked, instead of weaker. "You are very
fair, Joisan, very wise, very — desirable. But it — " He coughed,
and more blood came, which I wiped away quickly with the wet
leaves. "Not for me," he ended clearly.
He did not try to speak again for a while, and then,
"Not for the lordship, not ever, Joisan. You — must — believe
that. I — would — have — come wooing if you had no dowry at all.
Not the lordship — though they said it was the way to make sure of
that. I wanted — you!"
"I know," I assured him. That was true. His kin might have urged
him to wed with me for Ithkrypt, but Toross had wanted me more than
any keep. The great pity of it was that all I could feel for him
was friendship, and such love as one might give a brother — nothing
more.
"Had you not wedded — " He gasped and choked. Now speech was
beyond him.
At the last I gave what I had to offer to ease him — a lie that
I spoke with all the ring of truth I could muster.
"I would have welcomed you, Toross."
He smiled then, such a smile as was a crossbow's bolt in my
heart. And I knew that my lie had been well said. Then he turned
his head a little, resting his stained lips against my breast, and
his eyes closed as if he would sleep. But it was not sleep that
came as I held him so. After a space I laid him down and wavered to
my feet, looking about me, unable for that moment to look upon
him.
I set myself rather to view this place. That we had come to some
site of the Old Ones I had realized. But then its shape had been of
no importance, merely that it was the end to which I could bring
Toross. Now, sharply defined in the moonlight, I could see all of
it.
There were no walls, no remains of such, just the pavement,
dazzling in the moonlight. For the first time I was aware that some
of the light came from the ancient stones themselves, similar to
the glow of the globe.
Still those stones, in spite of their gleam, appeared to be
little different from the rocks that formed the walls of Ithkrypt.
Only the light pulsated a little as if it came and went like the
breathing of some great animal.
Not only the glow but the shape of the pavement astonished me.
It was laid in the form of a five-pointed star. As I stood there,
swaying a little, it seemed to force its form upon my eyes as if it
had a meaning that was necessary for me to see and understand. But
my knowledge of the Old Ones and their ways was so fragmentary that
I could not guess into what we had intruded, save it had never been
fashioned to serve a Dark Power, but Light, and that it had indeed
been a place of forces, some remnants of which still clung.
Had I only known how to use those! Perhaps I could have saved
Toross, saved the dalespeople who would now look to me for
leadership. If I only knew more! I think I cried out then in my
desolation of spirit, for the loss of something I had never had,
but which might have meant so much.
There was something here — Suddenly I threw back my head and
gazed upward, stretched wide my arms. It was as if I were trying to
open some long closed door within me, to welcome into starved
darkness a filling of light. There was a need in me, and if I asked
I would be given. Yet I did not know what I was to ask for, and so
in the end my arms fell to my sides and I was still empty. I was
gnawed also by the knowing that I had been offered something
wondrous which I was too ignorant to take. The thought of my own
failure was the bitterest of all.
With this loss still upon me I turned about to face Toross. He
lay as if asleep, and the glow of the stone was all about him.
There was no way I could entomb him after the manner of the dales,
with his armor upon him, his hands folded on the hilt of his sword
to show that he had fallen valiantly in battle. Even this I could
not do for his honor. Yet in this place such seemed unnecessary,
for he rested in such glory and peace as I did not think any of our
tomb chambers held. And he slept.
So I knelt and took up his hands, crossing them, though not on
any sword hilt. And, last of all, I kissed him as he slept, for he
had desired and served me to the utmost, even if I could not be to
him as he wished.
Then I went forth from the star place and I broke off ferns and
sweet-smelling herbs which grew here as if in a Wisewoman's garden.
These I brought, and with them I covered Toross, save for his face,
which I left open to the night. And I petitioned whatever Power
lingered in this place that he indeed rest in peace. Then I turned
and left him, knowing within my heart that with Toross now all was
well, no matter what lay elsewhere in this war-riven and tormented
land.
Beyond the edge of the star I hesitated. Should I retrace my way
or strive to travel on, using the wood for cover, hoping beyond
that to find some trail my people had taken? In the end I chose the
latter.
Here the trees stood thicker and there was no path, nor could I
be sure that I headed straight. I was no woodsman and I might be
wandering. But I did my best.
When I came at last to that screen of thick brush which was the
outer ring of the wood, my mouth was dry with thirst I wavered as I
walked from weariness, being faint with hunger. But before me was
the narrowing end of the dale and the heights over which the
refugees from Ithkrypt must have fled.
The light of pre-dawn was in the sky, my only lamp, for the glow
had gone from the globe. It was dead, and I was alone, and the
burden of a heavy heart weighed upon me as much as my
weariness.
I reached a spur of rock behind which there was a hollow, and I
knew I could go no farther. Around it grew sparse patches of
berries, some of the fruit ripe. It was tart, mouth-twisting, what
one would not usually eat without meat, for which it would be a
relish. But it was food, and I stripped the ground-hugging bushes
quickly, stuffing the fruit into my mouth as ravenously as anyone
who knows bitter hunger.
That I could go on without rest I doubted; nor did I think I
could find a better biding place than this hollow. But before I
crept within, I used Toross' knife to change my clothing for this
wilderness scrambling. My skirt was divided for riding, but the
folds were so thick and long they had nearly proved my undoing. Now
I slashed away, tearing off long strips. These I used to bind down
the "legs" of my shortened skirt, narrowing the folds and anchoring
them as tightly as I could above my boots. The garment was far more
bulky than a man's breeches, but I had greater freedom of movement
than before.
Having done this, I huddled back into the hollow, sure my
whirling thoughts would not let me sleep, no matter how deep my
fatigue. My hands went to my breast, closing about the globe,
without my willing.
It had no warmth now, yet there was something about the smooth
feel of it that was comforting. And so, clasping it, I did fall
asleep.
All men dream, and usually upon waking one remembers such dreams
only in fragments — which may be of terror and darkness or, at long
intervals, of such pleasure that one longs to hold on to them even
as they fast fade. Yet what I experienced now was unlike any dream
I had ever known.
I was in a small place, and outside swept storm winds — but
winds of far more than normal fury. There was someone with me in
that place. I caught a suggestion of a shoulder outline, a head
turned from me, and there was a strong need that I know who this
was. But I could not see a face or name a name. I could only cower
as those racking winds beat by the opening of the crack in which
we sheltered. As it had been in the place of the star, so was it
here, the knowledge that had I only the gift, the ability, I could
gain what I needed and that good would come of it. Yet I had it
not, and the dream was gone — or else I could not remember more of
it then or ever.
When I roused, the sun was almost down, and the shadows long
about me. I sat up, still weary, still thirsty and longing for even
as much water as I had shaken from the leaves in the wood. There
was a dull ache in my middle, perhaps from the berries, perhaps
from lack of food. I got to my knees and peered down-slope for any
sign of the enemy.
Thus it was I spied those two making their way along as scouts
do. My hand was at knife hilt in an instant. But in a moment I saw
these were dalesmen. I whistled softly that call that we had
learned for just such a use as this.
They flattened themselves instantly to the earth, then their
heads rose a little at my second whistle. Seeing me, it took them
only a few moments to join me, and I knew them for Toross'
armsmen.
"Rudo, Angarl!" They could have been my brother-kin, so rejoiced
was I to see them.
"My Lady! Then the Lord Toross brought you forth!" Rudo
exclaimed.
"He did indeed. Great honor he cast upon his House." The armsman
looked beyond me into the hollow, and I saw that he guessed what
dire report I must make now.
"The invaders have a weapon that can slay from a distance. As we
ran, the Lord Toross was struck. He died in the safety to which he
brought me. Honor to his name forever!" Did it help that at this
moment I could use the formal words of a warrior's last
farewell?
Both these men were well past middle age. What Toross might have
been to them, or what ties — perhaps of almost kin-friendship — he
might have had with them, I did not know. They bowed their heads at
my words and repeated harshly after me, "Honor to his name
forever!" Then Angarl spoke. "Where is he, Lady? We must see to
him—"
"He lies in a holy place of the Old Ones. To that we were
guided, and there he died. And the peace of that place shall be his
forever."
They glanced from one to the other. I could see their sense of
custom warred in them with awe. And I added, "That which abides
there welcomed him, yes, and gave him to drink in his final hour,
and offered sweet herbs for his bedding. He rests as becomes a
proud warrior, and on this you have my oath."
That they believed. For we all know that while there are places
of the Dark Power to be shunned, there are others that offer peace
and comfort, even to interlopers. And if such a place welcomed and
held Toross now, he was indeed laid to rest with honor.
"It is well, Lady," Rudo answered me heavily, and I could see
that indeed Toross had meant much to these two.
"You have come from the dalespeople?" I asked in turn. "And have
you aught to eat — or drink?" My pride departed, and I wanted badly
what they might carry.
"Oh — of a certainty, Lady." Angarl used his good hand to
unstrap a bag from his belt, and in it was a bottle of water and
tough journey cakes. I had to use all my control to drink sparingly
and eat in small bites, lest my stomach rebel.
"We are of the band that went with the Forester Borsal. My lady
and her daughter were also with us. But they turned back to see
Lord Toross. We have been hunting him, since he did not join us by
moonrise — "
"You are on this side of the river then —"
"Those demons hunt
over the dale. If our lord had lived, this would have been the only
free way," Rudo said simply.
"They are in all the dale now?"
Angarl nodded. "Yes. Two bands of our people were captured
because they moved too slowly. Also, few of the flocks and herds
got away. The beasts refused the climb to the pass, and the herders
and shepherds could not force them to it. Those who tried too long
— " He made a small gesture to signal their fate.
"You can find your way back?"
"Yes, Lady. But we had best be on our way quickly. There are
parts that are hard going in the dark. Were it not summer and the
dusk later in coming, we could not do it."
Their food heartened me,
and their company even more. Also I found that the precautions I
had taken to turn my skirt into breeches aided my going, so I was
able to set out at a pace I could not have held the night before.
Before I went, I returned the gryphon into hiding under my mail,
for to me it was a private thing.
Our way was rough, and even my guides had to pause and cast
around at times to find landmarks by which they could sight their
way, for here there was not even a sheep track for a road. We
climbed as the night grew darker. It was colder here, and I
shivered when the wind struck full on. We talked very little, they
no more than giving me a word of guidance when the occasion arose.
My weariness was returning. But I made no complaint and did the
best I could, asking nothing from them. In this hour their
companionship was enough.
We could not take the last climb through the pass in the dead of
night, so once more I sheltered among rocks, this time with Rudo on
my right, Angarl on my left. I must have slept, for I do not
remember anything after our settling there until Rudo stirred and
spoke.
"Best be on now, Lady Joisan. There is the dawn, and we do not
know how high those murderers range in their search for blood on
their swords."
The light was gray, hardly better than twilight. I sighted
gathering clouds. Perhaps we were to face rain — though we should
welcome what washed away our tracks.
It did begin to rain with steady persistence. There was not even
tree cover as we slipped and slid down from the pass into the
valley beyond. I knew this country only vaguely. At the level of
the dale, if one traveled through the lower pass, there was a
road heading toward Norstead. Though the lords cared for it after a
fashion (mainly by chopping back any undergrowth for three spear
lengths on either side so that the opening might deter ambushes by
outlaws), it was not a smooth track.
The river was too wide and shallow hereabouts to provide for any
craft save when the spring floods were in spate. And this part of
the country lacked settlers. It was grazing ground, and in winter
the grasses on the lower lands helped to feed the stock. But no one
lived here, save seasonally.
Our people are few in the western dales. And dalesmen cling to
company. Those who do turn hunter, forester, or trader are misfits
who do not rub well against their fellows and are usually looked
upon as being but a grade or two above the outlaws, since they are
wandering, rootless men of whom anything may be expected. Thus we
largely keep to the richer lands and within arrow flight of our
dales. Our peopled dales are scattered. Norsdale, perhaps five
days' journey westward by horse, more on foot, was the nearest
settlement of which I knew.
But we did not descend to the road to Norsdale, being warned by
fire smoke on the valley floor. Our people would not light such.
Again we kept to the upper slopes, angling south. So we came near
to being the targets of crossbow bolts from our own kin.
There was a sharp challenge from a screen of bush; then a woman
came into the open to face us. I knew her for Nalda, whose husband
had been miller at Ithkrypt, a tall woman of great strength in
which she took pride, sometimes in her way seeming more man than
woman when compared to the chattering gossips in the village. She
held her bow at ready, the bolt laid on, and did not lower it as we
came up. But on seeing me, her rough face lightened.
"My Lady, well come, oh, well come!" Her greeting warmed my
long-chilled heart.
"Well come in truth, Nalda. Who is with you?"
She reached forth to touch my arm, as if she needed that to
assure herself I did indeed stand there.
"There be ten of us — the Lady Islaugha and the Lady Yngilda, my
lad Timon and — but, Lady Joisan, what of Stark, my man?"
I remembered that red slaughter by the river. She must have read
it in my face. Her own grew hard and fierce in an instant.
"So be it," she said then, "so be it! He was a good man, Lady,
and he died well — "
"He died well," I assured her speedily. I would never tell any
daleswoman the manner of dying I had seen. For the dead were our
heroes, and that is all we needed to know to hold them in
honor.
"But what do I think of! Come quickly — those demons are in the
valley below. We would have moved on, but the Lady Islaugha, she
would not go, and we could not leave her. She waits for the Lord
Toross."
"Who will not come now. And if the invaders are already
hereabouts we must move on quickly. Ten of you — what men?"
"Rudo and Angarl." She nodded to my companions. "Insfar, who was
shepherd in the Fourth Section. He escaped over the rocks with a
hole in his shoulder, for these thrice-damned hunters of honest men
have that which kills at a distance. The rest are women and two
children. We have four crossbows, two long bows, our belt knives
and Insfar's wolf spear. And among us food for mayhap three days,
if we eat light and make one mouthful do the work of three."
And Norsdale was far away —
"Mounts?"
"None, my Lady. We took to the upper pass and could not bring
them. That was where we lost the rest Borstal guided—they went
ahead in the night. There are sheep, perhaps a cow or two running
wild — but whether we can hunt them — " She shrugged.
So much for all our plans of escape. I only hoped that some
other parties of our people had gotten away sooner, been better
equipped, and could get through to Norsdale. Whether they could
rouse any there to come to our rescue, I doubted. In spite of my
own need I could understand that those there would think a second
time before venturing forth on such a search. They would be better
occupied making ready their defenses against the invaders.
Thus escorted by Nalda, who seemed to have taken command of this
small band, I came into their camp, though there was little about
it of any camp. Seeing me, the Lady Islaugha was on her feet
instantly.
"Toross?" Her cry was a demand. In her pale face her eyes glowed
as the gryphon globe had glowed, as if within her was a fire.
My control was shaken. As I tried to find the right words, she
came to me, her hands on my shoulders, and she shook me as if so to
bring my answer.
"Where is Toross?"
"He — he was slain — " How could I clothe it in any soothing
words? She wanted only the truth, and no one could soften that for
her.
"Dead — dead!" She dropped her hold on me and stepped back. Now
first there was horror in her expression, as if in me she saw one
of the invaders bloody-handed from slaughter, and then a hardening
of feature, a mask of hate so bitter it was a blow.
"He died for you — who would not look to him. Would not look to
him who could have had any maid, yes, and wife, too, if he only
lifted his finger and beckoned once! What had you to catch his eye,
hold him? If he gained Ithkrypt with you, yes, that I could accept
But to die — and you stand here alive — "
I had no words. I could only face her storm. For in her twisted
way of thinking she was right. That I had given Toross no
encouragement meant nothing to her. What mattered was that he had
wanted me and I had stood aloof, and he had died to save me.
She paused, and now her mouth worked and she spat, the spittle
landing at my feet.
"Very well, take my curse also. And with it the oath of bearing
and forebearing, for that you owe to me — and to Yngilda also. You
have taken our kin-lord — therefore you stand in his place."
She invoked the old custom of our people, laying upon me the
burden of her life as a blood-price, which in her eyes it was. From
this time forth I must care for her — and Yngilda — protect them
and smooth their way as best I could, even as if I were Toross
himself.
As we stood under the moon in that secret place of stone, the
gryphon blazing on my breast, Toross slipped from my hold to the
ground. I knelt beside him, drawing the garment from his chest that
I might see his hurt. His head lay against my knee, and from his
lips a stream of blood trickled. That he had come this far was a
thing hardly to be believed when I saw the wound exposed. Enough of
Dame Math's healing knowledge was mine to know that it was indeed a
death blow, though I slit my underlinen with his knife and made a
pad to halt the seepage.
I gentled his head against me. In so very little could I ease
the passing of this man who had given his life that I might live.
In the light of the gryphon and the moon I could well see his
face.
What twisting of fate had brought us two together? Had I allowed
myself, I might have wanted to joyfully welcome Toross for my lord.
Why had I not?
In the library of the Abbey I had found many curious pieces of
lore not generally taught, perhaps considered mysteries of the
Flame. And one such roll of runes I now remembered — that a man —
or woman — does not live a single life, but rather returns to this
world at another time for the purpose of paying some debt that he
or she owes to another. Therefore in each life one is bound to some
other by ties that are not of this life and time, but reach far
back into a past no seer can delve. Toross had been drawn to me
from the first, so much so that he had nearly dimmed the honor of
his House to seek me out, to urge upon me a similar feeling.
Though I had held fast against him, yet he had come here to die
in my arms, because my life meant more to him than his own. What
debt had he owed me, if that old belief were true? Or had he now
laid some debt upon me that must be paid in turn?
His head moved in my hold. I leaned close to hear his
whisper:
"Water—"
Water! I had none. To my knowledge the closest lay far, the river
a long distance from us. I took up my skirt, still heavily
dampened, and wiped his face, wishing bitterly that I could give
him such a little thing. Then I saw in the dead-white radiance,
which seemed so intense in this place, that plants grew about the
paved space. Tall as my shoulder they stood, with great, fleshy
leaves outspread in the moonlight And on those were drops of
silver. I recognized a plant Dame Math had used. Yet hers had been
very small compared to these. These plants had the art of
condensing water on their leaves with the coming of night's
cool.
Gently I laid Toross down and went to gather this unexpected
boon, tearing off the largest leaves with care, lest I spill their
precious cargo. And I brought them to wet his lips, eased a few
drops into his mouth. So little it was that I despaired, but
perhaps the leaves had some healing quality they imparted to those
droplets, for these seemed to satisfy his thirst.
I took him up again, and as I settled his head against me, his
eyes opened and he knew me. He smiled.
"My — lady — "
I would have hushed him, not for what he said, but that it
wasted his strength, and of that he had so little left. But he
would not have it so.
"I — knew — my — lady — from — the — first — I saw you." His
voice grew stronger as he talked, instead of weaker. "You are very
fair, Joisan, very wise, very — desirable. But it — " He coughed,
and more blood came, which I wiped away quickly with the wet
leaves. "Not for me," he ended clearly.
He did not try to speak again for a while, and then,
"Not for the lordship, not ever, Joisan. You — must — believe
that. I — would — have — come wooing if you had no dowry at all.
Not the lordship — though they said it was the way to make sure of
that. I wanted — you!"
"I know," I assured him. That was true. His kin might have urged
him to wed with me for Ithkrypt, but Toross had wanted me more than
any keep. The great pity of it was that all I could feel for him
was friendship, and such love as one might give a brother — nothing
more.
"Had you not wedded — " He gasped and choked. Now speech was
beyond him.
At the last I gave what I had to offer to ease him — a lie that
I spoke with all the ring of truth I could muster.
"I would have welcomed you, Toross."
He smiled then, such a smile as was a crossbow's bolt in my
heart. And I knew that my lie had been well said. Then he turned
his head a little, resting his stained lips against my breast, and
his eyes closed as if he would sleep. But it was not sleep that
came as I held him so. After a space I laid him down and wavered to
my feet, looking about me, unable for that moment to look upon
him.
I set myself rather to view this place. That we had come to some
site of the Old Ones I had realized. But then its shape had been of
no importance, merely that it was the end to which I could bring
Toross. Now, sharply defined in the moonlight, I could see all of
it.
There were no walls, no remains of such, just the pavement,
dazzling in the moonlight. For the first time I was aware that some
of the light came from the ancient stones themselves, similar to
the glow of the globe.
Still those stones, in spite of their gleam, appeared to be
little different from the rocks that formed the walls of Ithkrypt.
Only the light pulsated a little as if it came and went like the
breathing of some great animal.
Not only the glow but the shape of the pavement astonished me.
It was laid in the form of a five-pointed star. As I stood there,
swaying a little, it seemed to force its form upon my eyes as if it
had a meaning that was necessary for me to see and understand. But
my knowledge of the Old Ones and their ways was so fragmentary that
I could not guess into what we had intruded, save it had never been
fashioned to serve a Dark Power, but Light, and that it had indeed
been a place of forces, some remnants of which still clung.
Had I only known how to use those! Perhaps I could have saved
Toross, saved the dalespeople who would now look to me for
leadership. If I only knew more! I think I cried out then in my
desolation of spirit, for the loss of something I had never had,
but which might have meant so much.
There was something here — Suddenly I threw back my head and
gazed upward, stretched wide my arms. It was as if I were trying to
open some long closed door within me, to welcome into starved
darkness a filling of light. There was a need in me, and if I asked
I would be given. Yet I did not know what I was to ask for, and so
in the end my arms fell to my sides and I was still empty. I was
gnawed also by the knowing that I had been offered something
wondrous which I was too ignorant to take. The thought of my own
failure was the bitterest of all.
With this loss still upon me I turned about to face Toross. He
lay as if asleep, and the glow of the stone was all about him.
There was no way I could entomb him after the manner of the dales,
with his armor upon him, his hands folded on the hilt of his sword
to show that he had fallen valiantly in battle. Even this I could
not do for his honor. Yet in this place such seemed unnecessary,
for he rested in such glory and peace as I did not think any of our
tomb chambers held. And he slept.
So I knelt and took up his hands, crossing them, though not on
any sword hilt. And, last of all, I kissed him as he slept, for he
had desired and served me to the utmost, even if I could not be to
him as he wished.
Then I went forth from the star place and I broke off ferns and
sweet-smelling herbs which grew here as if in a Wisewoman's garden.
These I brought, and with them I covered Toross, save for his face,
which I left open to the night. And I petitioned whatever Power
lingered in this place that he indeed rest in peace. Then I turned
and left him, knowing within my heart that with Toross now all was
well, no matter what lay elsewhere in this war-riven and tormented
land.
Beyond the edge of the star I hesitated. Should I retrace my way
or strive to travel on, using the wood for cover, hoping beyond
that to find some trail my people had taken? In the end I chose the
latter.
Here the trees stood thicker and there was no path, nor could I
be sure that I headed straight. I was no woodsman and I might be
wandering. But I did my best.
When I came at last to that screen of thick brush which was the
outer ring of the wood, my mouth was dry with thirst I wavered as I
walked from weariness, being faint with hunger. But before me was
the narrowing end of the dale and the heights over which the
refugees from Ithkrypt must have fled.
The light of pre-dawn was in the sky, my only lamp, for the glow
had gone from the globe. It was dead, and I was alone, and the
burden of a heavy heart weighed upon me as much as my
weariness.
I reached a spur of rock behind which there was a hollow, and I
knew I could go no farther. Around it grew sparse patches of
berries, some of the fruit ripe. It was tart, mouth-twisting, what
one would not usually eat without meat, for which it would be a
relish. But it was food, and I stripped the ground-hugging bushes
quickly, stuffing the fruit into my mouth as ravenously as anyone
who knows bitter hunger.
That I could go on without rest I doubted; nor did I think I
could find a better biding place than this hollow. But before I
crept within, I used Toross' knife to change my clothing for this
wilderness scrambling. My skirt was divided for riding, but the
folds were so thick and long they had nearly proved my undoing. Now
I slashed away, tearing off long strips. These I used to bind down
the "legs" of my shortened skirt, narrowing the folds and anchoring
them as tightly as I could above my boots. The garment was far more
bulky than a man's breeches, but I had greater freedom of movement
than before.
Having done this, I huddled back into the hollow, sure my
whirling thoughts would not let me sleep, no matter how deep my
fatigue. My hands went to my breast, closing about the globe,
without my willing.
It had no warmth now, yet there was something about the smooth
feel of it that was comforting. And so, clasping it, I did fall
asleep.
All men dream, and usually upon waking one remembers such dreams
only in fragments — which may be of terror and darkness or, at long
intervals, of such pleasure that one longs to hold on to them even
as they fast fade. Yet what I experienced now was unlike any dream
I had ever known.
I was in a small place, and outside swept storm winds — but
winds of far more than normal fury. There was someone with me in
that place. I caught a suggestion of a shoulder outline, a head
turned from me, and there was a strong need that I know who this
was. But I could not see a face or name a name. I could only cower
as those racking winds beat by the opening of the crack in which
we sheltered. As it had been in the place of the star, so was it
here, the knowledge that had I only the gift, the ability, I could
gain what I needed and that good would come of it. Yet I had it
not, and the dream was gone — or else I could not remember more of
it then or ever.
When I roused, the sun was almost down, and the shadows long
about me. I sat up, still weary, still thirsty and longing for even
as much water as I had shaken from the leaves in the wood. There
was a dull ache in my middle, perhaps from the berries, perhaps
from lack of food. I got to my knees and peered down-slope for any
sign of the enemy.
Thus it was I spied those two making their way along as scouts
do. My hand was at knife hilt in an instant. But in a moment I saw
these were dalesmen. I whistled softly that call that we had
learned for just such a use as this.
They flattened themselves instantly to the earth, then their
heads rose a little at my second whistle. Seeing me, it took them
only a few moments to join me, and I knew them for Toross'
armsmen.
"Rudo, Angarl!" They could have been my brother-kin, so rejoiced
was I to see them.
"My Lady! Then the Lord Toross brought you forth!" Rudo
exclaimed.
"He did indeed. Great honor he cast upon his House." The armsman
looked beyond me into the hollow, and I saw that he guessed what
dire report I must make now.
"The invaders have a weapon that can slay from a distance. As we
ran, the Lord Toross was struck. He died in the safety to which he
brought me. Honor to his name forever!" Did it help that at this
moment I could use the formal words of a warrior's last
farewell?
Both these men were well past middle age. What Toross might have
been to them, or what ties — perhaps of almost kin-friendship — he
might have had with them, I did not know. They bowed their heads at
my words and repeated harshly after me, "Honor to his name
forever!" Then Angarl spoke. "Where is he, Lady? We must see to
him—"
"He lies in a holy place of the Old Ones. To that we were
guided, and there he died. And the peace of that place shall be his
forever."
They glanced from one to the other. I could see their sense of
custom warred in them with awe. And I added, "That which abides
there welcomed him, yes, and gave him to drink in his final hour,
and offered sweet herbs for his bedding. He rests as becomes a
proud warrior, and on this you have my oath."
That they believed. For we all know that while there are places
of the Dark Power to be shunned, there are others that offer peace
and comfort, even to interlopers. And if such a place welcomed and
held Toross now, he was indeed laid to rest with honor.
"It is well, Lady," Rudo answered me heavily, and I could see
that indeed Toross had meant much to these two.
"You have come from the dalespeople?" I asked in turn. "And have
you aught to eat — or drink?" My pride departed, and I wanted badly
what they might carry.
"Oh — of a certainty, Lady." Angarl used his good hand to
unstrap a bag from his belt, and in it was a bottle of water and
tough journey cakes. I had to use all my control to drink sparingly
and eat in small bites, lest my stomach rebel.
"We are of the band that went with the Forester Borsal. My lady
and her daughter were also with us. But they turned back to see
Lord Toross. We have been hunting him, since he did not join us by
moonrise — "
"You are on this side of the river then —"
"Those demons hunt
over the dale. If our lord had lived, this would have been the only
free way," Rudo said simply.
"They are in all the dale now?"
Angarl nodded. "Yes. Two bands of our people were captured
because they moved too slowly. Also, few of the flocks and herds
got away. The beasts refused the climb to the pass, and the herders
and shepherds could not force them to it. Those who tried too long
— " He made a small gesture to signal their fate.
"You can find your way back?"
"Yes, Lady. But we had best be on our way quickly. There are
parts that are hard going in the dark. Were it not summer and the
dusk later in coming, we could not do it."
Their food heartened me,
and their company even more. Also I found that the precautions I
had taken to turn my skirt into breeches aided my going, so I was
able to set out at a pace I could not have held the night before.
Before I went, I returned the gryphon into hiding under my mail,
for to me it was a private thing.
Our way was rough, and even my guides had to pause and cast
around at times to find landmarks by which they could sight their
way, for here there was not even a sheep track for a road. We
climbed as the night grew darker. It was colder here, and I
shivered when the wind struck full on. We talked very little, they
no more than giving me a word of guidance when the occasion arose.
My weariness was returning. But I made no complaint and did the
best I could, asking nothing from them. In this hour their
companionship was enough.
We could not take the last climb through the pass in the dead of
night, so once more I sheltered among rocks, this time with Rudo on
my right, Angarl on my left. I must have slept, for I do not
remember anything after our settling there until Rudo stirred and
spoke.
"Best be on now, Lady Joisan. There is the dawn, and we do not
know how high those murderers range in their search for blood on
their swords."
The light was gray, hardly better than twilight. I sighted
gathering clouds. Perhaps we were to face rain — though we should
welcome what washed away our tracks.
It did begin to rain with steady persistence. There was not even
tree cover as we slipped and slid down from the pass into the
valley beyond. I knew this country only vaguely. At the level of
the dale, if one traveled through the lower pass, there was a
road heading toward Norstead. Though the lords cared for it after a
fashion (mainly by chopping back any undergrowth for three spear
lengths on either side so that the opening might deter ambushes by
outlaws), it was not a smooth track.
The river was too wide and shallow hereabouts to provide for any
craft save when the spring floods were in spate. And this part of
the country lacked settlers. It was grazing ground, and in winter
the grasses on the lower lands helped to feed the stock. But no one
lived here, save seasonally.
Our people are few in the western dales. And dalesmen cling to
company. Those who do turn hunter, forester, or trader are misfits
who do not rub well against their fellows and are usually looked
upon as being but a grade or two above the outlaws, since they are
wandering, rootless men of whom anything may be expected. Thus we
largely keep to the richer lands and within arrow flight of our
dales. Our peopled dales are scattered. Norsdale, perhaps five
days' journey westward by horse, more on foot, was the nearest
settlement of which I knew.
But we did not descend to the road to Norsdale, being warned by
fire smoke on the valley floor. Our people would not light such.
Again we kept to the upper slopes, angling south. So we came near
to being the targets of crossbow bolts from our own kin.
There was a sharp challenge from a screen of bush; then a woman
came into the open to face us. I knew her for Nalda, whose husband
had been miller at Ithkrypt, a tall woman of great strength in
which she took pride, sometimes in her way seeming more man than
woman when compared to the chattering gossips in the village. She
held her bow at ready, the bolt laid on, and did not lower it as we
came up. But on seeing me, her rough face lightened.
"My Lady, well come, oh, well come!" Her greeting warmed my
long-chilled heart.
"Well come in truth, Nalda. Who is with you?"
She reached forth to touch my arm, as if she needed that to
assure herself I did indeed stand there.
"There be ten of us — the Lady Islaugha and the Lady Yngilda, my
lad Timon and — but, Lady Joisan, what of Stark, my man?"
I remembered that red slaughter by the river. She must have read
it in my face. Her own grew hard and fierce in an instant.
"So be it," she said then, "so be it! He was a good man, Lady,
and he died well — "
"He died well," I assured her speedily. I would never tell any
daleswoman the manner of dying I had seen. For the dead were our
heroes, and that is all we needed to know to hold them in
honor.
"But what do I think of! Come quickly — those demons are in the
valley below. We would have moved on, but the Lady Islaugha, she
would not go, and we could not leave her. She waits for the Lord
Toross."
"Who will not come now. And if the invaders are already
hereabouts we must move on quickly. Ten of you — what men?"
"Rudo and Angarl." She nodded to my companions. "Insfar, who was
shepherd in the Fourth Section. He escaped over the rocks with a
hole in his shoulder, for these thrice-damned hunters of honest men
have that which kills at a distance. The rest are women and two
children. We have four crossbows, two long bows, our belt knives
and Insfar's wolf spear. And among us food for mayhap three days,
if we eat light and make one mouthful do the work of three."
And Norsdale was far away —
"Mounts?"
"None, my Lady. We took to the upper pass and could not bring
them. That was where we lost the rest Borstal guided—they went
ahead in the night. There are sheep, perhaps a cow or two running
wild — but whether we can hunt them — " She shrugged.
So much for all our plans of escape. I only hoped that some
other parties of our people had gotten away sooner, been better
equipped, and could get through to Norsdale. Whether they could
rouse any there to come to our rescue, I doubted. In spite of my
own need I could understand that those there would think a second
time before venturing forth on such a search. They would be better
occupied making ready their defenses against the invaders.
Thus escorted by Nalda, who seemed to have taken command of this
small band, I came into their camp, though there was little about
it of any camp. Seeing me, the Lady Islaugha was on her feet
instantly.
"Toross?" Her cry was a demand. In her pale face her eyes glowed
as the gryphon globe had glowed, as if within her was a fire.
My control was shaken. As I tried to find the right words, she
came to me, her hands on my shoulders, and she shook me as if so to
bring my answer.
"Where is Toross?"
"He — he was slain — " How could I clothe it in any soothing
words? She wanted only the truth, and no one could soften that for
her.
"Dead — dead!" She dropped her hold on me and stepped back. Now
first there was horror in her expression, as if in me she saw one
of the invaders bloody-handed from slaughter, and then a hardening
of feature, a mask of hate so bitter it was a blow.
"He died for you — who would not look to him. Would not look to
him who could have had any maid, yes, and wife, too, if he only
lifted his finger and beckoned once! What had you to catch his eye,
hold him? If he gained Ithkrypt with you, yes, that I could accept
But to die — and you stand here alive — "
I had no words. I could only face her storm. For in her twisted
way of thinking she was right. That I had given Toross no
encouragement meant nothing to her. What mattered was that he had
wanted me and I had stood aloof, and he had died to save me.
She paused, and now her mouth worked and she spat, the spittle
landing at my feet.
"Very well, take my curse also. And with it the oath of bearing
and forebearing, for that you owe to me — and to Yngilda also. You
have taken our kin-lord — therefore you stand in his place."
She invoked the old custom of our people, laying upon me the
burden of her life as a blood-price, which in her eyes it was. From
this time forth I must care for her — and Yngilda — protect them
and smooth their way as best I could, even as if I were Toross
himself.