Raven Flight (42 page)

At this point Brasal stepped past both Fingal and Tali, put his arm around my shoulders, and ushered me in through the doorway. I was aware of Bearberry moving out to speak long-overdue words of welcome to Whisper and to draw him inside.

“Tali—” I said, glancing over my shoulder. She looked as if she might never find the will to move again.

“Come,” Brasal said in my ear. “You, at least, I can look after. We’re working on small things; that’s the best we can do right now.”

They had hoped that with our return, Shadowfell might begin to come back to itself. They had expected that Tali would take charge, make sure everything continued as usual, rally the shattered household, and make plans for the future. She was so strong, so certain, that she could be relied on even in a catastrophe like this.

Instead, she went to ground like a wounded animal. There was, first, a hideous shouting argument between her and her brother, in the infirmary, which could be heard throughout the network of caverns and passages that made up the rebel headquarters. I sat in the dining chamber with the much-reduced household—apart from the recent losses, many were still out across Alban on their autumn missions—holding a cup of ale between my palms and willing the nightmare to be over. Around me sat Milla, Eva, Brasal, and Big Don, all of us silent as Tali’s excoriating words to her brother rang in our ears, bitter, accusatory, furious, cruel. That they were not in any way justified only made it worse. It had been plain from Fingal’s story that
Regan had instigated the mission to Wedderburn, and that Regan’s own lapse in judgment had taken the team into deadly peril. But she kept on shouting:
You should have been there, you should have saved him
. And worse:
If I had been there, he would have lived
. Fingal was not saying much, but when he did speak, his voice was harsh with grief.

“This isn’t Tali,” I murmured. “Has losing him sent her completely mad?”

“Give her time,” said Milla, who, like all of them, was looking wan and exhausted. “She hasn’t accepted that he’s gone yet. She needs to weep, and rest, and think about it on her own. By morning she’ll be back to herself and giving orders, see if she isn’t.”

Milla was wrong. Tali took her weapons, a waterskin, and a blanket, and climbed to the ledge at the top of the Ladder. We left her undisturbed awhile, thinking that if she planned to throw herself down, she would not have taken anything at all. When the day was beginning to darken toward dusk, we discussed who should go up to talk to her, and I was chosen.

As I climbed, the memory of midwinter morning and Regan’s stirring prayer was strong in me. His shining blue eyes; his face, bright with dedication, courage, and hope.
Farewell to the dark. Hail to the light. Lead us into a new day
.

Tali was huddled at the very back of the ledge, her arms around her knees, her head down. The blanket was wrapped around her. I suspected she had not moved in a long time.

“Go away!” she snarled as I approached.

I sat down on the rocks a few paces from her. “It’ll be dark soon,” I said. “Could be sensible to come down before then.”

“Go away, Neryn!”

I waited awhile before speaking again. “Regan wouldn’t want this,” I said quietly. “He would expect us to grieve, of course. But he wouldn’t want anger. He wouldn’t want us to turn on each other.”

She lifted her head, revealing in the fading light a ghostlike caricature of her true face. “What would you know?” she snapped. “If it hadn’t been for you, I’d have been with him, and he wouldn’t be dead! Get back down those steps before I throw you down!”

I retreated. I knew how strong she was, and I thought I saw madness in those haunted eyes.

She was not down by morning. We kept a vigil at the foot of the Ladder, taking shifts, so there would be a friend close at hand to help her when she moved. The longer this went on, the weaker she would be when she finally gave it up, and the Ladder was dangerous. Ordinary work, already neglected since the news of Regan’s death came in, was now almost abandoned, though Milla and Eva kept us fed, and a pale, silent Fingal continued tending to the injured Cian. Bearberry and Whisper had gone down the spiral stair into the domain of the Folk Below. We sat around the table and spoke in low voices about the future, and I heard one or two of the rebels saying maybe it was all over; that they might head south before winter, in search of work or the scattered remnants of family. When Milla turned on
them for so quickly losing hope, one man pointed out that without a leader, the rebellion could not go ahead; without a vision for the future, folk soon lost the will to fight. How could we maintain the push toward midsummer, how could we retain the support of the loyal chieftains without Regan? There was nobody like him.

We did talk about it. We thought of folk who might lead: Milla, who had been with Regan almost from the first; Big Don; Fingal. But Milla, for all her strength of character, was no warrior; Big Don had the presence to lead, but lacked a gift for strategy; Fingal could not do the job with the weight of his sister’s scorn on his shoulders. Others we considered, trying to see a way out of the darkness, but we knew in our hearts that there was only one choice.

When a third day dawned and Tali still had not come down, I climbed the Ladder again. This time, before I went up, I talked to the others and had them make some preparations; if I did not hold on to hope, then I could hardly tell Tali to do the same.

I took another waterskin with me; hers would surely be empty by now. I took a bannock wrapped in a cloth. In my pouch I took something else.

Tali appeared to be asleep. She lay against the rock wall, long lashes soft on her pallid cheeks, blanket over her. Her face was gaunt and gray; she looked ten years older. As I came out onto the ledge, her eyes sprang open. “Are you deaf?” No angry snarl this time, but a harsh whisper. “I told you to leave me alone.”

“If you wanted to die,” I said, my heart thumping,
“you’d be dead by now. If you plan to live, it might be a good idea to eat and drink. I’ve brought you something. And I’m not going away, so there’s no point in snarling at me.” I set the food and drink beside her, then settled cross-legged not far away. “You could do with a wash,” I added.

“I don’t want this, Neryn.” Her voice was a thread.

“Yes, you do. Sit up. Here, let me help you. I’m the leader today, and the leader says eat. Slowly, or you’ll make yourself sick.”

She sat; I could see she was dizzy from hunger. When I put the waterskin in her hands, she almost dropped it. She drank.

“Good. Pass it to me. Now, one mouthful of bannock.”

“You don’t have to feed me,” she muttered, taking the morsel I had broken off and putting it in her mouth.

I waited until she had eaten half the bannock and taken more water. “Good,” I said. “Without this you won’t be able to get down the Ladder, and I imagine you don’t want the entire household watching as Big Don carries you down over his shoulder.”

She narrowed her eyes at me. “I’m not coming down,” she said. “I can’t. I can’t do it without him. I can’t do any of it.”

“You know what everyone wants,” I said. “There’s nobody else who can lead us. Not the way Regan did.”

She closed her eyes as if my words hurt her. “They’ll manage. Someone will step up. Big Don. Andra. Someone. You could do it.”

“You’re not thinking straight. I’m part of it, certainly,
an important part. But my role is quite different. Tali, we’ve talked about this, the rest of us. Nobody else can lead us. Only you. We need you.” I did not add what was in my mind: that Regan would not have wanted her to give up, that what he would have expected was that she step in and take his place. He’d have wanted her to see his vision through to the end. Surely there was no need to tell her that, for she had known him better than anyone.

“I have something for you,” I said. “I forgot that I’d put this away for safety, or I’d have given it back to you long ago.” From my pouch I took the little wooden raven that I’d retrieved from her belongings after she was taken by the Enforcers. She reached out her hand and I laid the token on her palm. “Remember those ghost-warriors at Hiddenwater?
Weapons sharp; backs straight; hearts high
. They believed in you. Ultan’s heir, they called you. You come from an ancient family; to those warriors, and to everyone here at Shadowfell, you are a true embodiment of fighting spirit. You think the cause is lost with Regan’s passing. But if you find the strength to stand up again, if you can survive this and march on, the cause stays alive. We have less than a year to achieve this, Tali. You’re the only person who can make it happen.”

Her fingers closed around the little raven. “Neryn,” she said, her voice shaking like that of a hurt child, “I never told him. I was so strong, so determined to keep to the rule we’d agreed on, I never told him how I felt. Never breathed a word. Not once.” Her lower lip trembled; tears spilled from her eyes. “Oh gods,” she said, scrubbing a hand across
her cheeks, “what am I, some foolish girl of twelve summers?” She put her head down on her knees.

“You loved him,” I said. I had not suspected this, not for a moment. They’d been close; many times I had seen the red head and the dark bent over a map or document, or heard their voices in intense, private discussion. I had known they were old and true friends. But this … This explained much.

“He died not knowing,” she whispered through the flood of tears. “Alone. Without anyone. And then they butchered him. When he most needed me, I wasn’t there.…”

I put an arm around her and let her weep. When she had no more tears left to shed, I took out my kerchief and wiped her face. I offered her the waterskin again. “Come down, at least, and have a proper rest,” I said.

“Neryn.”

“Mm?”

“You’re not to speak of this. Not to anyone. You understand?”

“Of course not. Tali, he knows. Wherever he is now, he knows how you feel and he honors you for it.”

“Honor,” she echoed. “Look at me. Hardly an image worthy of honor, is it? All right, let’s get down that wretched Ladder. This time, you’d better go first and hope I don’t fall.”

Big Don was at the foot of the steps; he stayed there until we were safely down, then went away as we had arranged earlier. Tali and I went first to the privy, then to the women’s quarters, where the only occupant was Andra, resting on her pallet with a bandage around her shoulder.

“How is it?” Tali asked, making a brave effort to stroll across and sit on the edge of Andra’s bed with her old assurance. “Much pain?”

“It’s mending.” Andra too had been prepared in advance. “Aches at night, but the healer from Below put some kind of poultice on it, and it’s bearable. Be a while before I can use a sword again.”

“Not too long, I hope,” Tali said in a wraith of her old voice. “I have work for you.”

“I’ll do my best,” said Andra with a smile. “You all right?”

“I’ve been better.”

“To be brutally honest, you stink.”

At that point Eva and Milla came in with the bathtub and two buckets of water.

“It’s a conspiracy,” muttered Tali.

“Guilty,” I said. “We have to share this bedchamber with you, don’t forget.”

She submitted to a bath; Milla washed her hair for her, Eva helped her in and out, I held the towel ready for her to dry herself. She drank half a cup of mead and ate a bowl of porridge. She lay down on her bed and slept for the rest of the day. Beyond the bedchamber door, the household of Shadowfell crept about on soft feet, hardly daring to hope. She was still asleep at suppertime, so we left Andra watching over her and gathered in the dining chamber, none of us saying much. If anyone had noticed Tali’s swollen, reddened eyes when she came down the Ladder, nobody mentioned it. Nobody asked me what I had said to her. Instead,
we spoke of other matters: the best way to prepare cheesy bannocks, which loch harbored the biggest trout, how soon the autumn storms would set in.

We were sitting over our mead when she came in. She was wearing clothes borrowed from someone bigger; they emphasized how gaunt and pale she was, shrunken by grief. But she held herself tall, her shoulders square, her dark eyes daring any of us to pity her. Behind her came Andra.

“I have something to say,” Tali began. “First, I regret my unfortunate loss of self-control when we first arrived here. It won’t happen again. I offer my brother a public apology.” She glanced at Fingal, who had said barely a word throughout the meal. “There’s no blame to be laid for what happened. We are warriors; we take risks; sometimes we misjudge the way things will fall out.” She cleared her throat and straightened her back. If anyone thought this was not costing her, they did not know her as I did. Andra moved in closer, ready to support her if she faltered.

“I won’t waste words,” Tali went on. “Regan’s gone. Someone has to step up and take on the duties of leader. I’m offering myself as a replacement. Not that anyone can really take his place; he was himself, a beacon of hope, a shining light in the darkness.” Her voice was shaking. “But he’d want us to go on; he’d want us to see this through to the end, no matter how heavy our losses. I don’t forget the sacrifice of Killen, young Ban, and Little Don, who also fell at Wedderburn. Three fine men. Nor of all those we’ve lost over the years since Regan’s passion and vision brought us together and gave us the hope of a better future.” She swayed; Andra took her arm, steadying her.

“Andra has agreed to take on my old job, training you and keeping you all in order,” Tali said. “And I’ll be leader for now, if you want me. When all the others get back, when winter sets in, we should give everyone the opportunity to volunteer, then put it to the vote. But Neryn says you need someone to take charge now, so I’ll do it. If you’ll have me.”

A roar of approval gave her the answer.

“Good,” she said, sounding surprised. “Good. I’ll hold a council the day after tomorrow, all of us and any of the Folk Below who want to be present. I’ll hear everyone’s report on their activities since Neryn and I went away. Neryn will provide ours. We need to start planning, and planning fast. We only have until midsummer to achieve this. We must work as we’ve never worked before.” She brushed a hand across her cheek. “We’re doing this for you, Regan,” she said. “We’re doing it for all our fallen. Maybe you’re gone from this world. But you’re always with us, here at Shadowfell.”