Sorcerer of the North (18 page)

As befitted her assumed rank, Alyss was traveling with a sizeable retinue. A chamberlain, two maids and half a dozen men-at-arms made up the group. The soldiers were accommodated in the castle dormitory while Alyss and the others occupied a large suite in the keep tower. Will presented himself in her anteroom at the appointed time. He wasn't sure what to expect, not knowing how many of Alyss's party were aware of her true identity. The chamberlain greeted him coolly and motioned him to a seat.

"The Lady Gwendolyn said you are to wait," he said loftily. He glanced at the instrument case as Will set it down. "Brought your lute, have you?"

Will took a breath, preparatory to speaking, then decided to give up. If the entire population of the world wanted to assume he played a lute, who was he to disabuse them? The chamberlain had lost interest in him and disappeared into an inner room, leaving him alone.

Several castle servants came and went while Alyss kept him waiting at least half an hour. He realized that the delay was totally in keeping with the character she was playing—lords and ladies rarely gave any thought to lesser beings whom they might keep waiting but he felt she was overdoing it just a little. Finally the chamberlain reemerged and beckoned him in.

"The Lady Gwendolyn is ready for you now," he said. Will muttered under his breath. A keen listener might have made out the words "Not before damn time," but the chamberlain seemed to hear nothing.

He followed the other man into the large sitting room. Alyss was standing by the window, her face a mask until the chamberlain closed the heavy door behind them. Then her mouth widened into a warm smile and she came forward to take his hands in hers, brushing soft lips against his cheek.

"Will," she said softly, "how wonderful to see you again!"

His annoyance evaporated instantly and he returned the pressure of her hands.

"I couldn't agree more," he said. "But what on earth brings you here?"

Alyss looked surprised. "I'm your contact," she said. "Didn't Halt tell you?"

He stepped back, confused. "He said it would be someone I'd recognize. I had no idea it would be you. I had no idea that you ..." He hesitated, not sure how to proceed. Alyss laughed softly. It was her natural laugh, not the shrill neigh of self-amusement she assumed as Lady Gwendolyn.

"You had no idea I got involved in this sort of cloak-and-dagger business?" she said. When he nodded, she smiled and continued. "Well, you've seen my dagger. Did you think Couriers simply carry messages around the kingdom?"

He smiled in return. "Well... yes, as a matter of fact. But then, this is my first assignment like this."

She released his hands and became businesslike all of a sudden. "We're wasting time. I'll explain more later. But first, we need to hear you play."

That startled him. "Hear me play?" he said, and she nodded quickly, gesturing to the instrument case.

"Your mandola. It is a mandola, isn't it?" she added, and he nodded. Somehow, he wasn't surprised that Alyss could name it correctly. He unstrapped the fastenings, still puzzled. He realized that the chamberlain had moved a little closer and was watching carefully as Will adjusted the tuning. He strummed a chord.

"Just the instrument. Don't bother to sing," Alyss said.

Frowning, Will began the introduction to
Wallerton Mountain
. The chamberlain drew closer, his head to one side, listening intently. Alyss's eyes were fixed on the man. After sixteen bars or so of the old folk tune, he looked up at her and nodded briefly and she gestured for Will to stop. Still puzzled, he played the last few notes and frowned a question. In a low voice, she gestured to the chamberlain.

"Give the mandola to Max," she said. "He'll play while we talk."

Understanding dawned as Will passed the instrument to the older man. Max took it and, without any of the usual retuning or fiddly adjustments that most musicians undertook when they borrowed another's instrument, he began playing immediately. Will realized that the man was copying his own style exactly. There was the occasional thwarted note in the lower range, and the slight hesitation as he moved up the neck for treble arpeggios—faults that Will was constantly at pains to correct.

Alyss drew him to one side, closer to the window but not so close that they could be seen from outside.

"Now we can talk," she said, "while any eavesdroppers will hear the jongleur serenading that stuck-up twit, Lady Gwendolyn."

"Who dreamed up Lady Gwendolyn, by the way?" he asked her. Alyss shook her head.

"Oh, she's real enough. A bit of an intellectual lightweight, but terribly loyal. When we found that she had arranged to travel here this month, she agreed to allow me to take her place. It was an ideal situation, really. She'd been invited to winter here by Lord Syron before all this business began. Orman could hardly go against his father's offer of hospitality. I spent days practicing her half-witted giggle, you know," she added.

Will smiled. "Is all this really necessary?" he said, indicating Max, now stumbling slightly over the introduction to
Heart of the Wildwood
. Alyss shrugged.

"Maybe not. But we can't be sure who might be listening or watching and it's better to assume that someone is. That's why I felt I should keep you waiting—sorry about that."

He shrugged the apology away. What she said made sense. He recalled the castle servants who had seen him in the anteroom. Any of them could be reporting to Orman right now. He glanced at Max.

"He's very good," he said, then amended the statement, "I mean, he's very good at being bad." He grinned. "Do I really sound as bad as that?"

Alyss touched his hand. "Oh, come on. You're not so bad. But we couldn't have him playing like a virtuoso and expect people to believe it was you. Now tell me, what have you found out so far?"

Will shook his head. "Not a lot that we don't already know. The entire countryside is terrified all right. Nobody will talk. I haven't seen Syron, but Orman seems like a nasty piece of work altogether."

Alyss nodded. "I agree. Did you notice the books on his desk?" she said. Will shook his head and she continued. "
Spells and Incantations
was one.
Wizardry and the Black Art
was another. There were more but they were the only two titles I could make out."

Will nodded, understanding. "That explains the gaps on the shelves in the library," he said.

Alyss sat on a two-seat settle, tucking her feet up under her Will found it a particularly appealing motion. "What about the cousin? Keren?" she asked. "Have you met him?"

"Just once. He seems like a good man to have around. Straightforward. No-nonsense. And there's no love lost between him and Orman. Orman virtually warned me to stay away from him just before you arrived," he added. Alyss's face took on a thoughtful expression.

"So it might be awkward for you to make further contact with him?" she said. Will nodded and she continued. "Perhaps I could do it. I suppose it would be in character for Lady Gwendolyn to flirt with him—particularly since he's beneath her in rank. That way she could be sure nothing would come of it."

Will was a little surprised to find that he didn't like that idea too well. Keren was good-looking, friendly, and, he assumed, would be attractive to women with his open, easygoing manner. He realized that Alyss was smiling at him, as if she could read his thoughts.

"It'd only be Lady Gwendolyn doing the flirting, Will," she said. "And she is betrothed to be married, so it would amount to nothing as I said."

She might be betrothed but you're not, Will thought to himself. Then he shook away the sour thought. Alyss was only doing her job, he realized.

Alyss continued. "I've left a man outside the village you came through, in case we need to contact Halt and Crowley. He's camped in the woods there with half a dozen message pigeons if we have anything to report."

Will cleared his throat nervously. "Actually, there is something I think we should let them know," he said. Alyss paused and looked him curiously. He hesitated, knowing that what he was going to say would sound ridiculous, then went ahead anyway.

"Last night, I saw the Night Warrior in Grimsdell Wood."

Alyss listened intently as Will recounted the events of the previous night. Max was obviously paying attention as well, he thought. When he reached the moment where the giant figure had emerged from the mist, he noticed that the musician missed several beats. He smiled ruefully. He didn't blame the other man. He had a distinct memory that his heart had done much the same thing—and had kept on doing it, when he had been in the dark, menacing wood.

As he related his tale, Alyss had jotted occasional notes in a small leather-bound journal. She studied them now, frowning slightly, her chin on her hand. Finally, she looked up at him.

"It must have been terrifying," she said.

"It was." Will had no hesitation about admitting his fear to her. They had known each other too long for him to try to pretend otherwise. In addition, his training and his honest nature compelled him to give a true and accurate account of events—including his reactions to them. She drummed her fingers on the table for a few seconds, studying her notes once more. Then she touched her quill to one of the jotted points.

"Your dog ..." she began. "What's her name, by the way?"

Will hesitated. He was getting tired of that question. He racked his brains for a name but inspiration deserted him. "I was thinking of calling her Blackie ..." he said.

"Blackie?" Alyss's tone left no doubt that she didn't think too much of his choice.

"But I have a few other ideas as well," Will added hastily. She waved the matter aside. It wasn't important.

"Whatever. You said she growled when you first saw the lights moving?"

He thought back to the scene in the wood, trying to reconstruct exactly what had happened. "Yes," he said finally. "She had her head cocked—the way dogs do when they hear a strange sound."

"Then..." She paused and went back to the notes. "You saw the Night Warrior and
then
you heard him speak, correct?"

He nodded.

"How long was it between the time you saw the figure and heard him speak? Was there a pause?"

He thought carefully. He knew how important small details could be and he wanted to be absolutely sure he had them correct. "There was a definite pause," he said. "Perhaps twenty seconds. No less then that. It's hard to be accurate; I was a little distracted by what was going on," he added, and she nodded her sympathy.

"I don't blame you. I would have been running, screaming the place down, long before you reached that point," she said. Then she touched on the detail that had been bothering her.

"You said when the figure spoke, the dog jumped up and growled?"

"That's right." And suddenly a light dawned in his mind, a fraction of a second before Alyss stated it.

"So she wasn't bothered by the apparition?"

Will shook his head. "No. She came to her feet and growled when we heard the voice. So when the figure appeared, she must have been lying down ... relaxed."

Alyss nodded at him. "So she reacted to the sounds, and the lights—which you'd expect a dog to do if they were real—but when it came to the twelve-meter-high figure of the Warrior ...?"

She let the sentence hang and Will completed the thought.

"She didn't see it. Or, if she did, it didn't bother her or threaten her."

Alyss sat back in her chair. "You know, Will, I'm no expert on the paranormal, but I have always heard that animals sense the presence of manifestations long before humans do. Yet the dog simply lay there, doing nothing, while you were seeing a giant warrior in the mist."

"That's the point. I did see it. It was there." Will frowned as he tried to piece together the puzzle.

"I know you saw it. I know you're not the hysterical type. But I'm saying it wasn't a spirit. It was some kind of trick. And the dog ignored it because the dog sensed that it wasn't real. The sounds, the voices, the lights—they were all real, physical events. But the figure was some kind of trick—an illusion of some kind."

There was a long silence while they looked at each other. Will knew they were both thinking the same thought.

"I'm going to have to go back in there and find out, aren't I?" he said, at length.

"We're
going to have to go in there and find out," Alyss corrected him. He was grateful for the idea of company—and at the thought that her analytical mind would be applied to the task. But even so ...

"This time, I'm going in daylight," he said, and Alyss grinned at him.

"After what you've told me, wild horses couldn't drag me into that wood after dark," she said.

Will played in the dining hall again that night. Alyss, as she had told Orman, stayed in her suite, presumably recovering from her journey, and made no public appearance. There was a good deal of interest in her, particularly among the ladies of the castle. A noblewoman from the south would probably wear the latest in fashion and the local ladies couldn't wait to see it. They were mildly disappointed by her absence and, as a result, it was a low-key night. Orman left the dining hall shortly after the meal was cleared and before Will played. There was no sign of Keren and his entourage, and Will wondered whether the likeable young warrior had been warned off by his cousin as well.

Will's performance was adequate, he thought. He was becoming sufficiently at home as a performer to now be able to gauge the level of his own work. The audience enjoyed themselves without becoming overly enthusiastic, which suited his plans admirably. He and Alyss had arranged to meet early the following morning and he didn't want a late night in the smoky atmosphere of the hall.

Accordingly, an hour after sunrise, he rode out under the portcullis. The massive gate was raised at dawn each day, as soon as it Was evident that there was no sign of enemies in the immediate vicinity. The guard looked up at him as he passed.

"Hunting, jongleur?" he asked, nodding at the small hunting bow Will had slung over his shoulders, and the quiver of arrows hanging from his saddle.