Into The Dark Flame (Book 4) (22 page)

   The gang-leader stood in a moment of indecision, but must have seen by her face that she was telling the truth. He snapped an order to his men to scour the nearby area. Issul was sick, her head spinning. She struggled desperately to bring order to her thoughts, at the same time unable to confront the full horror of what the theft of the casket meant. It was the loss of all hope; her children, Leth, Enchantment's Reach. . . .

   Who, or what, could have taken it?

   'Are you all right?'

   The words seemed to have no reference to her. Their sound enclosed her loudly, and the world had slewed, lurched. She felt her hands, disconnected, twitching and straining against some inexplicable restraint. A vast, rushing sensation, lifting her and turning her over, and a pounding, surging hiss. Everything blurred - the trees racing across the sky  . . .

   'Are you all right?'

   She found she was staring at the sky through a black overhanging latticework of branches. She blinked, not clear on what had happened, a terrible hammering in her head. She realized she was slumped upon the earth, half on her back. One of her captors was kneeling at her side. The blue-cloaked  commander towered over her.

   'Are you all right?'

   She nodded, and the movement of her head felt ridiculously exaggerated, as though she had no control over her movements. Abruptly she was both embarrassed and furious at herself, for she realized what had happened. She had fainted.
Fainted! In front of these men!
The shock of the loss of Orbelon's world, combined with everything else she had suffered today and in recent days, had been more than she could consciously stand. Issul struggled to sit up, hampered by her still-bound wrists.

   'Untie me!' she demanded.

   The commander bent and helped her to her feet. 'With respect, I think that would be unwise.'

   'Do you know what you do here? Do you understand what has happened? If that chest is not found, we are lost! All of us!'

   And it hit her just then. Who was most likely to have followed her and seen her hide the chest, if not these men?

  
Moscul! Grey Venger!
Orbelon was in the hands of the Legendary Child.

   Issul saw the blue casket shattered into a thousand fragments.

  
The loss of all hope.

   The commander was watching her silently, his face hidden except for cool, expressionless hazel eyes. 'We will find it again.'

   She made a scornful sound. 'Why did you follow me? Why do you seek the chest? Had I not stopped to investigate you, I would have been away from here, the chest safe with me.'

   'What does the chest contain that is so important?'

   'I have told you. It contains your future.'

   'That is no kind of answer.'

   'It is the only answer!'

   'Then, if my men are unable to recover it?'

   'Hah!' Issul's lips twisted in bitter contempt. 'Then nothing matters anymore.'

   She stood rigidly, unable to find proper vent for her feelings. The commander stood in meditative silence. His gaze was unfocused as he mused upon his own thoughts. But she sensed that he grew uncomfortable under her scrutiny.

 
Who are you?

  He shifted his stance slightly, angling his body away from her, his eyes studying the forest. And in that movement she was
transported. . . back to the garden of a little cottage, hardly more than a hovel, in the village of Lastmeadow. Only, what, no more than three weeks ago! A soldier by the fence, turning away as she appeared, unwilling to reveal his face.

  
Gordallith!

   The name shot through her mind; she almost spat it out.

   So this was Fectur's doing!

   It hardly came as a surprise.

   Her thoughts raced. What would be Gordallith's mission? To shadow her, learn where she was bound. Yes, and discover by what means she hoped and intended to bring salvation to Enchantment's Reach.

  
And then? Was Gordallith instructed to murder her? Likely so, if her survival was found to be inessential to the task of saving Enchantment's Reach.

   So, indeed, she had embarrassed Gordallith by falling into his hands. And now he did not know what to do with her.

   She pondered a brief moment. Should she let him know that she had found him out? He was the Spectre's man, and would not acknowledge her authority. Leth was gone; if Fectur could learn Issul's secret and prevent her return he would have the power he aspired to. No, Gordallith would kill her if he realized she knew him. He would not permit her to return and arraign him on a charge of high treason.

   The casket was lost. Gordallith, ignorant of everything that was at stake here, would return now to Enchantment's Reach. He would not take the Queen with him.

   It was the end.

   But was she prepared to let herself die here, passively, in anonymity, on a traitor's blade? Was she not going to fight? Through her hopelessness her fury rose. If all was lost, her children, her husband, Orbelon
. . . if Enchantment's Reach must fall, then the Spectre would pay! As long as the blood ran in her veins she would not allow him to gloat for a single minute!

   She thought quickly. Gordallith and one of his men guarded her here in the grove; the others searched for the chest. If she was to do anything, it had to be now. There would be no opportunity later. Her hands were bound, yet . . .

   She had been taught by an expert.

   Issul twisted a little, bringing both Gordallith and the guard into her view. She settled her weight, then suddenly lifted one foot and thrust out in a vicious snap-kick. The edge of her foot slammed with all the force she could muster into the guard's unprotected face. As he fell back, before Gordallith could react, she spun and kicked again. The bony top of her foot rammed hard into Gordallith's groin. He doubled over with a groan of pain. Issul bent low and ran.

   She ducked beneath the bushes, shouldering through branches and brambles. Her foot snagged, she fell to her knees, but was up again instantly, forcing through. She broke free of the thicket and raced off between the trees. She estimated she would have several seconds before either man recovered enough to give chase. And she gambled - correctly - that they would not shout out to the others, for fear of bringing the wrong kind of company down upon them.

  
If she could just get herself beyond their sight . . .

   With her hands bound she was severely hampered, yet she made good speed. Her one hope was to outpace them, get far enough away, find a place to hide, a sharp rock on which to saw through her bindings. It was a less than slender hope, but she burned with fury, with blind hatred for
Fectur and all he represented, and this kept her running, thinking only of the moment, and revenge, dodging, weaving beneath the trees with no notion of direction, thinking of getting back to Fectur.

   There was crashing in the bushes somewhere behind. Issul did not risk looking back. She veered off to one side, half-tumbled down a wet, muddy bank, made off along a shallow gully. Quite suddenly she rounded the massive earthy rootstock of a fallen beech and found one of Gordallith's men before her. He was not looking her way, but he heard her and turned.

   Without pausing Issul threw herself at him, head low. He was slightly downslope of her, which gave her extra momentum. Her head cannoned into his midriff. He went down, but she slipped and fell too. She rolled over and used her motion to come cleanly to her feet. The man was scrambling up, reaching for his sword. Issul arc-ed her foot around hard into the side of his head, sending him sprawling again. She ran on, leaping, veering, twisting, the breath coming harsh and painful to her lungs. She could not tell whether anyone was behind her.

   Her legs were beginning to fail her. She gasped for air, her lungs burned. She scrambled up a slope, crested it. A figure loomed. A hand flew out. Before she could respond a fist caught her hard on the side of the head and sent her reeling to the floor. Her world spun with pain. She struggled to her feet. Something swished through the air, snaked around her ankles, tightened, jerked. Her feet were pulled away from beneath her and she landed hard upon her back. Dazedly she was aware of the tracker with the green fillet around his head, who she had first seen searching for her close to the grove where she had hidden the chest. His hand was upon his whip-stock, and he grinned down at her. In his other hand he held a sword.

   'I think that's far enough, little lady.' He sheathed the sword, took a dagger, bent and pressed the point to her neck, then with his other hand wound the coil of his whip more tightly around her ankles. Then he straightened. Issul lay trussed and helpless.

  Tracker turned to seek out his companions. There was a sudden blur of movement, a thud, a groan. Tracker fell. A shadow fell across Issul. Hands were at her ankles, uncoiling the whip. 'Majesty, roll over. Let me cut free your hands.'

  
'Shenwolf!'

  
'Quickly!'

   She was too stunned to do anything but comply. Shenwolf cut swiftly through her bonds then helped her to her feet. 'Come on, this way!'

   Tracker lay upon the ground, a bloody wound at the base of his skull. Issul bent and took his sword, then ran with Shenwolf.

  
'This way! There are horses!'

   Where was he leading her? Was this another betrayal? She could not think
, she could only run with him. A hundred paces through the trees, and at the foot of a grassy slope a pair of horses stood tethered. Issul leapt into the saddle of the first, Shenwolf the other.

   'Follow me!'

   Shenwolf bore off in an easterly direction. Issul glanced behind but could see no pursuers. After a distance of another hundred yards or so Shenwolf suddenly slowed. He raised a hand.

   'Wait!'

   He threw himself from the saddle, ran into the trees and fell to his knees at the base of a tumble of mossy limestone boulders. She saw him reach into a black gap. A moment later he stood and made his way back towards her.

  
'The chest!' Issul gaped in astonishment and sudden joy.

   He passed it up to her, and grinned.
'Aye, the chest!'

  
'But what--? How--?'

   'Later. For now let's get as far from here as we can while there is still a degree of daylight!'

   Back in the saddle he put his heels to his horse's flanks. Together they made off at fullest speed beneath the towering trees.

NINE

i

   They rode hard, deep into the forest, for the better part of two hours. At length, with only the pallid beams of a slender moon to light their way, they paused in their flight. They were at the foot of a high, wooded bluff. Their horses were weary, steam rising from their hides.

   'I think we will be safe from pursuit, at least until the morning,' said Shenwolf. 'These mounts belonged to those brigands who abducted you. In stealing them I set the remaining steeds running free. The brigands may recapture them in time, but it will not be soon enough to permit them to mount a pursuit tonight.'

   Issul nodded, but said nothing. Despite her rescue, she was not entirely easy with Shenwolf's company. Much explanation was demanded, and for now she found herself reticent and on edge.

   Shenwolf pointed. 'I think I see a cave. Perhaps we can shelter there for the night.'

   They rode forward, then dismounted and tethered the horses to a bush outside what did indeed turn out to be a narrow black cavern entrance. The two mounts were well-equipped for travel, with saddle-packs stuffed with food, leather water-sacks, blankets and sundry items, including bound cloth- and pitch-drenched torches by which they might see at night. To one of these Shenwolf struck a flint, and with weapons drawn the two entered the cave. They found it to be deep, spacious and untenanted by either man or beast. Moreover, natural flues in the rock ceiling permitted the escape of smoke. So they brought the horses inside and gathered wood and tinder for a fire. As Shenwolf set the fire to blazing and prepared to toast rabbit meat with bread, then biscuits and preserved fruit from the saddle-packs, Issul retired to one side of the cave and summoned Orbelon forth. To her immense relief he had suffered no harm.

   'Are you aware of what has happened?'

  
'To some extent. Friend Shenwolf found the chest where you had hidden it. He called me forth, then set off to discover what had become of you.'

   'Do not be too ready to term him 'friend'. Did he explain himself?'

   'Not entirely. There was little time for chat. Issul, before you make any judgement, hear him out. He has risked much to save you.'

   'I intend to. But, no matter his actions this evening, questions still hang in the air and make me very uneasy. Will you remain here while we talk?'

   'Certainly.'

   The food was ready; the cave had filled with the mouthwatering aroma of roasting meat. Shenwolf handed Issul a trencher piled with meat sprinkled with fresh herbs, and bread,
then seated himself cross-legged before the fire. Issul toyed abstractedly with her food and consumed little, whereas Shenwolf dug in enthusiastically.

   'Shenwolf, I have not yet expressed my gratitude for your action this afternoon. Without you I would be a prisoner still, and quite possibly dead. Also, were it not for you, Orbelon would now be in the hands of dangerous and irresponsible men, and who knows what that would bring. So let me say to you, as I have said before, I thank you. At the same time a cloud hangs over us. There are questions that I am bound to ask you.'

   Shenwolf chewed upon his food and swallowed. 'I understand. That is, I do not truly understand what it is that has caused you to doubt me, but I’ve seen that you do. That hurts me, and I want to know why you should feel this way when all I have done has been, as I thought, out of loyalty to you and to King Leth. I’ll gladly answer your questions, as truthfully as I’m able, in the hope that we may by such means dispel all doubts and suspicions. But I must ask you to understand that there are some things I am quite unable to explain. This, one way or another, you will have to accept, as I have had to.'

   Issul frowned. She glanced at Orbelon, who leaned in silence upon his staff, faceless in his mass of rags and indistinct in the deep gloom beyond the fireglow. 'What do you mean?'

   'I mean. . . .' Shenwolf scratched his head. In the ruddy glow of the flames he was haggard. His uniform was scuffed and soiled; dried blood had caked in his hair above one ear. Issul studied him hard. She could not decide what to make of him. So many questions burned in her mind, and behind them the nagging fear that he was not to be trusted, that he might yet be leading her into a trap. For more reasons than she could quantify she did not want this to be so. 'I am not sure what I mean, because I am not sure about many things. I think it will be simpler if I try to explain as I answer your questions.'

  
'Very well. Let's start with this afternoon. How did you come to find the chest and blue casket, and then rescue me? Why are you alone? It does not augur well for my company's defence against the grullags.'

   Shenwolf looked grave. 'I’m sorry, but the company was torn to shreds, Majesty.'

   'There are survivors, surely?'

   'As many as twenty were killed, from what I witnessed. Many others took wounds. Perhaps fifteen or so emerged unscathed. It was a very savage attack. Fortunately the grullags withdrew quickly.'

   'With Grey Venger?'

   Shenwolf nodded. 'That was my impression.'

   She watched his face, looking for clues. 'And what then?'

   'When the battle was done I had two concerns. Most urgently I feared for you. But also I was troubled by the knowledge that we had come into
conflict. And we had been seen by the men to have come into conflict, and I had been accused by you of some unexplained crime or misdemeanour. I was under suspicion, therefore, and would almost certainly be stripped of my weapons and placed under guard. So in the fog of the battle's wake I elected to come after you alone.

   'You were easy to track,' he continued. 'You had ridden off alone, the ground was soft and damp, and your horse had developed a limp. Hence I had little difficulty in discovering the grove and thicket where you had hidden the chest. The fact that you were not present alarmed me, and I called Orbelon forth and through him learned that you and he had been disturbed and that you had gone off to investigate. I then followed your trail again, saw other footprints and feared the worst. I took the decision to remove Orbelon to another location, as his safety had to be paramount. Then I went back to find you.

   'To be brief, I was able to observe your plight without being observed myself, though it was a close call. Your captors were highly organised and admirably skilled; they had sentries well-concealed. It was sheer luck that I spotted one before he spotted me.'

   Issul nodded, remembering her own humiliating experience when Gordallith's lookouts caught her.

   'When they marched off with you to recover the chest they left one man guarding the horses,' Shenwolf continued. 'I crept down and slew him, took these two horses and freed the others, stripping them of their saddles and equipment that they might run further and freer. Then I went back for you.'

   'Had I not broken free, what would you have done?' Issul asked.

   'I don’t know. It would have depended upon their treatment of you, I think. I didn’t relish trying to tackle them alone.'

   Issul absorbed this. So far it had a ring of plausibility. She knew Shenwolf to be bold and resourceful, and an expert tracker. And as before, at the
Karai camp and afterwards, he had demonstrated extraordinary fidelity to her and the Crown. But there was enigma here. Something still glared, and demanded explanation.

   She pulled forth the leather pouch from her tunic and held out the little ivory talisman on the flat of her hand.
'All very well. Now explain this.'

   Shenwolf glanced at the talisman,
then lowered his eyes. 'I cannot.'

   'Cannot?'

   'Not entirely. Not satisfactorily.'

   'I do not understand, Shenwolf.' Issul's voice took on a brittle tone. 'You have already admitted that it’s yours, and we know that you gave it to the Child beside the pond. So why can you not tell me now what it is, and why you gave it?'

   'Majesty, it is as I said moments ago. There are some things that I’m unable to fully explain. I will gladly tell you all I can, but that, I fear, will not be enough. When I’m done you will know little more than you know already.'

   'Let me be the judge of that.'

   Shenwolf bowed his head. 'My difficulty is that I know so little myself. You see, in all truth, I have almost no recollection of my past life.'

   'That is indeed unfortunate!' declared Issul scathingly. 'Convenient also, were there something you wished to keep concealed!'

   'If anything is concealed, it is concealed from me also. That is the truth, Majesty. I swear it. I fully believe that no torture known to men could draw from me more about my true background than I am about to reveal to you.'

   'Then what of the story you told me days ago at the inn of the Green Ram in Crosswood?'

   'It hardly constituted a story, as I recall it,' Shenwolf replied. 'I said only that I came from beyond the forest.'

   'And that you were taught martial skills by your father from birth.'

   'That is still very little. I admit, I was evasive. The fact is, I didn’t want to embellish the truth but I was afraid that you would not believe me if I admitted it. What memories I possess are vague, fleeting impressions; hauntings, even.' He put down his trencher and rose, then took several paces across the cave floor, his head bowed and his hands to his temples. 'It is as though my past resides in a haze, impenetrable by me, which, when a stiff breeze blows, fleetingly shows me a glimpse of an aspect of itself, but a glimpse only, then it is gone. Try as I might, I cannot recover it.'

   Orbelon spoke. 'Perhaps, then, you should begin by telling us what you do know, of recent weeks: how you came to meet the Child beside the pond; why you came to Enchantment's Reach; how you came upon this talisman. Can you tell us where you set out from?'

   Shenwolf gave a shake of his head.'No. My first clear perception is of finding myself upon my hands and knees in the forest. A nondescript place; it can’t be more than a few leagues from here. My head was spinning; I was dazed, and for some moments dazzled as if by a bright light. It was, quite genuinely, as though I had arrived there without having been anywhere before, for I knew almost nothing. And I recall . . . it’s hard to explain . . . there was, for a few instants only, a sensation of being surrounding by a shimmering purplish lucency. It faded, and as it did so the forest came into substance around me.'

   'Describe this phenomenon,' said Orbelon.

   Shenwolf swept his hand across his crown. 'There is nothing more I can say. It was the impression of light surrounding me. Perhaps not even light, but a bright, glaring colouration or disturbance of the air. I was dizzy, I recall, and felt that I’d been thrown down upon the ground, as if from quite a height. I can tell you nothing more.'

   Issul glanced again at Orbelon. He made no further comment, so she said, 'Very well. What then? You were alone in the forest. Did you know where you were? What did you do?'

   'I had no notion of my whereabouts, nor how I came to be there, nor where I had come from.'

   'But you knew
who
you were?'

   'I knew my name, and little else. However, it’s perhaps odd, but I was not at all distressed and only moderately disorientated by this. It did not seem unnatural. When my head had cleared sufficiently I began to walk, taking an upward trail to some high ground. I ascended as high as I could,
then climbed a tall elm to scan my surroundings. I saw nothing but forest in all directions with, occupying the southern range of my vision, the bright blazing peaks which I subsequently learned to be the borders of Enchantment. Those mountains impressed me as daunting - lonely, eerie and inhospitable. So I descended and struck off generally northwards.'

   'And you had not yet acquired the talisman?'

   'Oh yes. I had it with me.'

   'It belonged to you?'

   'I don’t know if it was mine, but I was wearing it around my neck. I remember becoming aware of it and taking it off to examine it.'

   'So it was unfamiliar?'

   'Everything was unfamiliar, and yet, as I say, that did not trouble me. The talisman may have been mine; I simply do not know. Majesty, what is this thing? Why do you place such weight upon it?'

   'Just continue,' replied Issul curtly.

   Shenwolf looked at her for a moment, then said, 'I walked for the better part of a day, and came eventually upon a tiny hamlet called Arklie Hollow. The folk there were wary and fearful, not keen for me to stay. Still, from them I gleaned the name of this land and its king. I learned too of the Karai menace and King Leth's call to arms. Thus informed I set off to become what I have since become, namely a soldier in the King's Army.'

   'And along the way it so happened that you met with the Legendary Child and bestowed this talisman upon him!'

   'The Legendary Child? What is this?'