The Swans' War 1 - The One Kingdom (25 page)

THE TOWN OF INNISETH APPEARED AROUND A BEND IN THE RIVER, and Tarn had to look twice to be sure of what he saw. The houses lay beneath a massive shoulder of stone which overhung the little town and pressed it close to the river.

The buildings seemed to have grown out of rock, and blended into the surroundings so well that they were difficult to see. Streets and houses followed the contours of the land, roofs and walls jutting off at unexpected angles and on odd levels. There was nothing even remotely like it in the Vale.

The roofs appeared to be of the same stone as the walls and the surrounding countryside, though split to roof-tile thickness. The town was all of a color and all of a piece but for bright flowers in pots by doorways and on window ledges. They had drawn fairly close before Tarn realized the town was well defended by natural cliffs and walls cleverly connected to make any assault difficult.

We are in the wildlands yet, he reminded himself.

"You have to wonder if there's a stick of wood in the entire town," Fynnol said, staring.” Look at it! I expect the people to be made of stone themselves, getting about like living statues.""Yes, but are our hunters among them?" Tarn wondered.

Cynddl shook his head.” I don't think it likely. This is a village whose road is the river, and I don't think the men who pursued us came down the river. Our pursuers believe us dead, or so I hope, and if they don't they wouldn't likely come here looking for us. They want to catch us alone in the wilds: that's their way." Across the river from the town lay the fields of the townsfolk. Here a level valley lay on either side of a tributary, and the travelers could see new oats waving in the sunshine, as well as green fields of sprouting corn and long mounds of potato plantings. Thick hedges set one field off from another, and there men and women were at work, bent to their toil beneath the late-spring sun. Tarn could see two small stone wharfs along the tributary where boats were moored or pulled up onto the grass. Odd, many-sided barns dotted the landscape, and in the pastures livestock wandered. As they rowed near to the town, an old man stood up from behind an overturned boat, a caulking mallet in hand. He removed a shapeless hat and wiped his brow with the back of a shirt cuff, staring at the Valemen and their companion as though he'd never seen strangers before. And then he hobbled, stiff-legged but quick, through a nearby gate.” We don't look that unkempt, surely," Fynnol said. Tam brought them gently alongside the stone quay.” Hello!" Fynnol called, for he could see the old man staring out at them, the gate open a crack.” We mean no harm, grandfather. You can come out." But the old man stayed where he was, gazing out anxiously.” And where you be coming from?" he demanded.” From the Vale of Lakes," Fynnol said, and then added, "far north." "I not be such an old straw as not to have heard of the Vale. And what is it you want in Inniseth?" Tam glanced at Cynddl, who did not look quite so perplexed as the Valemen.” We thought we might see a little of your town," Tam said, "and there is a man here with whom we'd like to speak." "And who might that be?""Morgan Truk."

There was the slightest pause.” Truk lives down the way. The last house to the south." And then the gate creaked shut and they heard a heavy bar fall into place.

"Well, there is a welcome for you!" Fynnol said.” Perhaps we should cross the river and speak with the people in the fields.""I fear your reception there will be little different," Cynddl said.” Inniseth doesn't welcome strangers—especially when one of them is a black wanderer." He reached out and shoved the boat back out into the river.

"Let's try this man Truk, then," Fynnol said.” Perhaps he doesn't believe that strangers will eat his children."The last house to the south was separate from the others, as though it had been pushed out of the town and its enclosing wall. A small, walled garden shaded by plane trees grew off one side of the house, and from within they could hear the sound of scraping. In a moment they found a gate, and to their surprise the top half was open.

Sitting on a bench in the shade was an old man with a pipe jutting out from between clenched teeth. He was absorbed in the task of cleaning a latch mechanism. Tarn cleared his throat and the man looked up, his eyes narrowing shrewdly. Morgan Truk was a square-built man, not tall but strong looking, with powerful arms and legs that appeared to have been attached to his torso by an indifferent craftsman." 'Day to you," he said, nodding, still clenching his pipe. He kept at his work.

"And to you," Cynddl answered a bit truculently.

Truk raised an eyebrow in response, but kept his attention on his latch, which he held up close to his face as though the light were poor, which it was not. Around the man the little garden seemed to have had all its flowers replaced by oddities and other people's castoffs and throwaways: trunks and bed frames; bellows and forge; broken-down furniture; grindstones; and doorknobs.

"And what have you need of this day?" Truk asked.” Nothing," Tarn said, but was suddenly unsure what to say.” We bring you news of a friend...." Tam hesitated a second.” It isn't good news." The man set his latch mechanism down on the bench and took the pipe from between stained teeth. He motioned them to come in.” We met a man named Alaan ..." Tam began, finding his way among the debris in Morgan Truk's garden.” Alaan A'bert?" Truk asked, thick eyebrows lifting a little.” We never knew his family name, but he traveled with a bird. A whist..." "That is A'bert," Truk said softly. He looked like a man receiving the final news of a relative long ill.” What has befallen him at last?" "We were set upon by men-at-arms and he was killed helping us escape." Truk put his unlit pipe back in his mouth and drew on it loudly. He looked down at the ground and shook his head— a small, sad motion.” Where did this happen?" Truk asked quietly.” By Telanon Bridge," Tam said.” But that is to the north," the man said, glancing up sharply.” When was this?" Tam looked at Fynnol.” About a month ago, more or less." Truk snorted and shook his head, a small smile appearing around his pipe stem.” Then he has risen from the river, for I've seen him quite alive since then. Quite alive. He came down the river in a nice new boat bearing a cargo of old odds and ends, as he has before. Sold a few things to me, and then went on his way south." The Valemen looked from one to the other, unable to voice their surprise.” He sold you our artifacts!" Fynnol said in outrage. Truk looked up quickly.” He sold me artifacts, but said nothing about them belonging to others.""Then he's not dead ... ?" Baore said. Truk laughed and shook his head.” Rogues like Alaan will outlive the likes of you or me." But then something about the faces of the young men stopped him.” But you'd best tell me your story. I see you've a need to."The visitors sat down heavily on trunks and decrepit chairs and slowly told Morgan Truk of their encounter with Alaan at Telanon Bridge, the midnight attack, and how they had then been hunted as they came down the river.

Truk sucked on his pipe as the story was spun, his large eyes on the strangers. Tarn thought he looked a sympathetic old man, but then he remembered that Alaan had called him an "old crook," or words to that effect. And what had Truk called Alaan?—"a rogue," as had everyone else who knew him. It seemed to Tarn that this title was well earned and, if anything, too generous. Alaan had robbed them, as sure as Tam was sitting there. Robbed them!

At the story's end the old man took the pipe from between his teeth and tapped it on the edge of his bench, spilling the contents on the ground.” Well, it is a tale and then some besides," he said after a moment.” And I don't know what to do about it. You see, Alaan has come to me with old objects before; some older than old—ancient. And at other times he has purchased or traded for things I'd come by over the years. It is a passion of his, and he knows the value of such things like few others. It is how we struck up what passes for friendship among men who covet and collect the same things. But in all the years, I've never known him to be dishonest; oh, shrewd, certainly, and willing to stretch a point or two to find a bargain, but in the main he was upstanding in his dealings with me." The old man found a pouch in his vest and began slowly tamping tobacco into the bowl of his pipe.” Now see the position I'm in . .. ? I have dealings with a man for years, tolerably fair dealings, and then some strangers come along and tell me this same man robbed them and sold me their goods. Now, if I am any judge of character, I would say these strangers are as upstanding and true as any you will find.” Now, what is true in this, and can't be denied, is that I bought these goods from Alaan, believing fully that he had come by them in a fair manner. Eh? I paid good money for them and, though I've feeling for you in your plight, I'm not of a mind, nor am I honor bound, to pay for these goods twice. Do you see my point?" He looked at each of them in turn until Baore nodded.” Now, it seems to an old man that your quarrel is with A'bert. He is the one you need speak with. Now, normally I wouldn't tell anyone what I am about to tell you, but..." he paused for a moment, jamming his unlit pipe between his teeth, "but this is a peculiar predicament I'm in. You see, I know where Alaan was going." He looked from face to face to see the reaction this caused. He took the pipe from his mouth again.” He was planning to attend the tournament at Westbrook," "But that is not until first summer's day" Cynddl said. Truk nodded once. The Valemen looked at one another, faces as confused as stormy mornings.” But Westbrook is far to the south," Fyn- nol said.” Not so far, as the river flows, as we say in Inniseth." "But we are to be home before the snows," Fynnol said, looking to Tam with real distress. Truk shrugged.” Be that as it may, Alaan has gone south to Westbrook and taken your goods with him." "And my boat," Baore growled. Truk took up his latch mechanism again.” Luck to you, whatever you might decide," he said. Cynddl rose to his feet, but Tam and the others remained where they were, as though too confused to make even the simplest decision.” Close the gate as you go, if you will," Truk said, and began again to scrape away the layer of rust coating the iron.

Tarn tapped Fynnol on the shoulder as he stood, and Baore followed. They picked their way through the debris, but at the gate Truk called to them.

"If there is anything you need from within the village, best come see me. The villagers are nervous these days. Some say they've seen swimmers in the water by evening: strange creatures watching with pale eyes. Everyone's locking their windows by night and no one will cross to the fields in darkness or alone. Even men, such as you clearly are, might find a cold reception up in the town, for in Inniseth we have no village fool—but a village of fools, instead. Treat them kindly, for they've no more reason than children."The companions returned to their boat in silence, and once there Fynnol drew Tarn's sword and with great energy thrashed a bush that stood nearby, sending leaves and branches arcing through the air to scatter over the ground like severed limbs. Finally, red in the face and gasping, he threw himself down on the ground, sword held loosely in his hands.” How is it possible that Alaan escaped those raiders, let alone thieved our boat!" He slashed at the stump of a branch from where he sat.” All of the hours we spent digging through the earth—and finding almost nothing. And the few things we did discover some fair-spoken thief makes off with!" He raised the blade as though he would cut the ground.” If I had him here I'd cut him a mouth that wouldn't be so fair.""We'll not see Alaan again," Tam said.” You can be sure of that. Unless he's stopped to practice some roguery in the Wold of Kerns.""The Wold?" Fynnol said.” I say we go to Westbrook and find this lowborn thief.""I'm not going on to Westbrook," Baore said, breaking into the conversation, "but to the Wold of Kerns and then home by the north road." He touched his wounded shoulder gently.” I've seen enough of the world beyond the gate. Let Alaan take the things we found. No matter what their price, they aren't worth staying to this cursed river." The big man got to his feet deliberately, took hold of the bow of the boat, and pushed it back out into the river with his knee.” Whoever will come best jump aboard now. The Wold of Kerns is where we are going, and the way this river changes and stretches we best make time."In the end they crossed the river and made their camp in a copse of trees within sight of the river-rock town. Just before sunset, the people working hi the fields boarded a fleet of small boats and crossed silently over to Inniseth, pulling their craft up onto the quay behind them.” I wonder what they think of us, sleeping the night here, beside the river?" Tam wondered aloud.” Likely they think us in league with the river spirits," Fynnol said.” We are a strange-looking lot, after all." Fynnol cast a glance at his cousin, but Baore would not meet his eye. Tam had seen this many a time before, though he was not so certain Fynnol would win the contest this time. Baore was determined that his journey south would end at the Wold of Kerns, and not a league farther on. Tam, however, was worried that they might meet the men-at-arms from Willowwand upon the road. But he was not sure he was ready to journey all the way to Westbrook, even to find the rogue who'd robbed them. Somehow getting Baore back to the Vale seemed the most important thing— he was not sure why.” Might I see your map, Cynddl?" Fynnol asked. The Fael found the rolled paper and Fynnol spread it out by the fire.” Where is the city of Westbrook?" Fynnol asked after a moment.” It's hardly a city," Cynddl said. He leaned over and pointed with a small stick.” There is the Westbrook itself. The village of the same name is near the place where the two rivers join." "But that is not so far south!" Fynnol said.” I thought it was near to the sea."Cynddl shook his head, a small smile appearing.” How can you know so little of the world?" He tapped the paper again.” You do know there were thirteen duchies and principalities that made up ? Each was situated in a valley of a tributary of the Wynnd. And each was divided from the other by low, rugged hills. These valleys were called wolds in ancient times and all but one was named for the river that made it.

"If you count from the sea you will find the Westbrook is the twelfth tributary—on the edge of the old kingdom, really. The thirteenth was the Dimml, sometimes called the Eastnook; the home of the Wills family. The Renn￡ dwelt, and still dwell, near the Westbrook.""That is all well and good, Cynddl, but you miss my point. Can a man not ride from the Westbrook to the Vale before the snows arrive?""Do you know when the snows will come this year?" Fynnol looked at the Fael, a little exasperation flickering across his face in the firelight.