Raven Flight (28 page)

OUR BOATMEN PUT US ASHORE NEAR THE MOUTH of Darkwater Loch, some distance from the settlement. As soon as they had unloaded us and our belongings, they turned the boat and headed back out to sea in the gathering dark.

We made camp in the remains of a ruined croft. We had supplies, thanks to the kindness of the islanders, and if we could avoid people’s notice on the way, so much the better. As it was, when I rose next morning, it was to find Tali gazing eastward along the loch and muttering to herself.

“What?” I asked, trying not to snarl. My back was aching; I had become used to the comfortable bed on Far Isle.

“Enforcers. Rode into the settlement at first light. At least three of them; I can see horses that don’t belong to any local farmer. We won’t be going that way either. Pack up quickly, let’s be gone before anyone decides this would be a nice spot for a morning walk.” Her tone softened a little as she looked at me. “It should be safe to go down to the water and wash your face, wake yourself up a bit. I’m sorry
if you wanted to go up there and say your goodbyes. It’s not to be.”

It was less than a year since the night my father died. It felt as if an age had passed. “I’ve said my goodbyes,” I told her. “He’s with me wherever I go. Tali, there is no other path. Only the main track, and the little one that goes up the hill right behind the settlement, the one Flint took me on last time.”

“I’ll find a track. Get moving, wash, and pack your things. We’ll eat later, when we’re safely away from here.”

She did not say it, but it was in my thoughts as I splashed my face in the salt water of the shallows, threw on the rest of my clothes, and stuffed my belongings in my bag. There were Enforcers in Pentishead; there were Enforcers at Darkwater. Might they not have a presence all the way from here to Summerfort?

There was no going by the main track. The king’s men were everywhere. Tali took me north, then inland, planning to come back southward to the track Flint and I had once used. But the way was all steep rocky climbs and sudden treacherous drops, a landscape full of perils even for the most seasoned wayfarer, and painfully slow to traverse.

Days passed, precious days, with little ground gained. Our supplies ran low again. What woodlands existed here were small and sparse, not like the forested hills farther east, where a skillful person could trap rabbits or forage for herbs and roots. Any creatures who survived in this place were fast runners and expert hiders. We rationed what we
had, refilled our waterskins whenever we could, and kept on going.

Tali did not like admitting she had made a mistake. She was seldom wrong, and to err on such an important matter was galling to her. But the path she chose, at some points the only possible path, led us farther and farther north and became harder and harder. One morning, after a night spent sleeping among barren hills, we climbed to a vantage point and looked out over a landscape of daunting wildness: high mountains to the north, a deep valley to the east with more mountains beyond, lower hills to the west, and beyond them the gray expanse of the sea. As the raven flew, we had not come far at all. And there was no way ahead.

“All right,” Tali said, as if the thing had been settled between us already, though I had held my tongue and let her lead me, believing that if she said she could find a path to the Rush valley, she could do just that. “We’re going back. If I thought there were a way to get straight to your Lord of the North from here, I’d suggest we change the plan and do that. But there’s no way we can cross those mountains.”

“Going back. You mean back to Darkwater.”

“What do you think I mean?” It was a snarl. I knew her well enough to realize her anger was not directed at me.

“The Enforcers might be gone by now, I suppose.” I offered this tentatively, wondering if silence might be a wiser option.

“I’ve no intention of taking you right through the settlement, Neryn. I’m not stupid. I’ll find another path.” A
silence. Perhaps she was waiting for me to say,
I’ve heard that before
.

“We’d better be moving, then.” This was a disaster either way. Make good time, and we would arrive on the road to Summerfort when everyone was heading for the Gathering. Be slow, and we would meet them coming back. Go to ground somewhere until they had passed, and we had no chance of reaching the Lord of the North before winter.

It was much later, when we had been walking all day and were starting to look for a place to settle for the night, that she said, “I’m sorry, Neryn. I was sure I could do this.” When I did not reply, she went on, “Thank you for not saying what you might have said. I’ll get you to the Lord of the North in time. I promise.”

“Don’t promise,” I said. “You can’t control the Enforcers. Or the weather. I know you’ll do your best, and that’s enough. Now let’s find somewhere to camp before my legs give up and you have to carry me.”

By the time we reached the Darkwater area again, we had stopped talking about getting to Shadowfell by midsummer. Quite clearly that was now impossible. Looking down on Darkwater settlement from the concealment of the forested hill behind, we saw Enforcers patrolling there, masked figures on long-legged dark horses. Signs of last autumn’s raid still marked the place: the jetty was half-burned, and there were houses with patched-up doors and shutters. I whispered a prayer for my father, whose bones lay down there in the bay somewhere, washed by
the endless tide. We hastened away, turning our steps eastward.

For the next two days we made good progress, following a snaking path through the hills. At night we camped without fire, for although we were off the main way, this region had more farms and settlements than the north, and we did not want to attract attention any sooner than we must. On the third day, as we drew closer to Silverwater, it became impossible to go unnoticed even in the forest. Folk were on the move and headed in one direction only: toward Summerfort. They went mostly in small groups, carrying bundles on their backs. Here and there we saw a child in arms or a dog running alongside. The travelers’ faces were not bright with the anticipation of feasting and entertainment, but wary, as if we were not the only ones wishing to avoid attention.

There were some exceptions. A group of young men, joking and laughing, stopped to greet us at a fork in the track, asking if we wanted company on our way. It seemed they had been drinking ale, and perhaps that explained their boldness. Tali managed a laugh in response and said no thank you, her husband would not be happy with the idea. To my great relief the lads did not press the point, but went on their way. We waited until they were out of sight, then took the other fork.

Our story had changed to suit the circumstances. Calla and Luda were from a tiny settlement north of Darkwater, and had been allowed time off from their farmwork to attend the Gathering. It was the most plausible reason for heading east: a reason nobody could question, since half
of Alban seemed to be doing the same thing. Once close to Summerfort, we would seize the first opportunity to head up into the woods again and bypass the Gathering altogether. What better time to get up the Rush valley unnoticed than when the eyes of Keldec’s court were on the midsummer spectacle? The Enforcers would all be there; the settlements of Alban would be spared their ominous presence, at least for a while.

Eventually Silverwater came into view, a long, shining expanse of freshwater amid tracts of pine and oak forest. The trees were in full summer garb, lush and green; it should be easy to find concealed paths through that woodland, which was the place where I had first met Sage and Red Cap last autumn. Would they be anywhere near? With so many men and women on the road, it seemed unlikely the Good Folk would come out. Most people carried knives for their own protection, and few, if any, would trouble to shield them with charms, even if they knew how. To uncanny folk, the very air must reek of iron.

We sat awhile on a flat rock, high on a hillside, looking out over loch and forest. The day was fair, the sky a sweet blue with scudding clouds like tufts of swansdown.

“Neryn.”

“Mm?”

“I’ve been thinking. From this point on we might be safer on the main road, in the crowd. On these side tracks we’ll be noticed every time we encounter other travelers. If we walk with a bigger group, or at least near one, we’ve a better chance of blending in.”

“There will be king’s men down there, keeping an eye out for anything unusual.”

“We’re not unusual. We’re just two more women on the road. Keep to the story, say no more than we absolutely must, and we can get through safely. We should be on the shore of Silverwater by tonight. Easier to join the crowd now than suddenly appear just before Hiddenwater, where we’ve no choice but to use the only track.”

“All right. If that’s what you think is best.”

“You don’t sound convinced.”

I did not tell her the thought of sharing the road with Enforcers made me feel sick. It was all very well for her; she had not seen her brother impaled on an enemy spear and choking on his lifeblood. She had not seen her grandmother turned into a witless shell at the hands of an Enthraller. She had not been captured and believed herself about to undergo the same fate. But no, that was unfair. I did not know Tali’s story. Alban being the place it was, very likely her past had its own share of horrors. “I know we have to do it sometime soon,” I said. “But I’m afraid. I can’t help it. If something goes wrong, I won’t be able to call, not down there.”

“Indeed, so make sure you’re not tempted. Whatever happens. I mean that, Neryn. Whatever happens. Do you understand? The king’s men mustn’t get the slightest sniff of the fact that you’re a Caller. Not the least hint.”

The look on her face terrified me. “I know that,” I muttered.

“I can keep you safe in most situations, though if I’m
supposed to be a farmworker, it’s clearly best if I don’t have to fight.”

Her weapons traveled rolled up in the bedding, apart from one knife concealed on her person. She had her staff, of course, which I had cause to know she could employ with great skill in both attack and defense. In a fight against a single Enforcer she might well win, even so lightly armed. To do so would be almost as perilous as my using my gift, for such acts never went unpunished, and the king’s punishments were delivered with both speed and savage efficiency.

We camped in the woods one more night. The next morning we joined the crowd on the road. Here the foot traffic was supplemented by ox-drawn carts, by small groups of highborn folk on horseback, and by the occasional flock of sheep or herd of goats that still had to be moved along, Gathering or no Gathering. Even here the mood was subdued, for wariness and distrust had worked their way deep into the fabric of Alban’s people during the years of Keldec’s reign. In the main, folk gave us sideways looks, then ignored us. The most we got from anyone was a nod, a word or two on the weather or the crowded road. We returned these cursory greetings in kind. Making friends was not part of the plan.

Tali’s theory proved to be correct: despite the press of folk, progress was quicker on this more direct path. I hated it. I could see from the tight set of Tali’s body that she was uncomfortable too. Every word and every gesture had to be guarded. We walked all day, and when the fading
light made going on impossible, we did what everyone else did: found a suitable spot by the road to make a rudimentary camp. The distrust between folk was not so great as to prevent each encampment from sharing a fire: everyone helped gather wood, and everyone enjoyed the warmth. Our supplies being scant, we went down to the loch and fished, competing with many others. We were lucky; or maybe we were more practiced. We shared our catch with a family that had been keeping pace with us on the road, a farmer and his wife with two shy daughters. The girls were close to the age I had been when the Enforcers came to Corbie’s Wood and tore my world apart. I wondered why their parents would choose to take them to the Gathering.

In time we came to Hiddenwater, where the warrior-ghosts had recognized in Tali the proof that their chieftain’s noble line lived on. She walked by that lonely loch with her raven markings hidden, and folk stretched out before and behind, eyes uneasy, tongues silent. Everyone knew the place was haunted. Perhaps only Tali and I were aware of how close those presences were, though we saw nothing of them, only heard, in the chill wind that whistled through the bowl-shaped valley, the echo of pipe and drum.

“We greet you,” I whispered into a fold of my shawl. “We honor you. Today we must pass on by.” Beside me, Tali strode forward, her eyes shining with the memory, her jaw set like a fighter’s. I jabbed her in the ribs, scowling. “You’re walking too fast for me, Luda.”

She rounded her shoulders, slowed her pace, became more of a girl and less of a warrior before my eyes.

“I hate this,” she whispered. “Every wretched step of it.”

“Me too. I hope it’s not too much farther.”

She blinked at me, then fell silent. Calla and Luda, after all, were going to the Gathering for the very first time. The closer we got to Summerfort, the more important it became to play our parts every moment of every day.

By Deepwater we encountered the group of noisy young men again. They camped near us and kept everyone awake with their oaths and ribald stories. The couple with the two daughters settled as far from the youths as they could, and Tali and I spread out our bedding alongside them, well away from the fire. We ate cold fish left over from the previous night, then settled to sleep. But the voices went on, loud, combative, slurred by too much ale.

“A pox on you, good-for-nothing maggot, I can beat you anytime!”

“Just try it, you sick whelp! You’ll get what’s coming to you.”

“Call me names, would you? I’m more man than you are!”

“Get up and show us, then! Let’s see the size of you!”

“
Calla.
” The sharp whisper was Tali’s. A fight had broken out among the youths and was drawing in other men from the encampment. Someone ran across the area and fell over one of the two young girls, who screamed in fright; her father rose to his feet, fists bunched. “Get up, back away quietly.” Into the shadows, she meant, out of sight and out of trouble. I scrambled to my feet.