Hearts in Cups (23 page)
Climbing through the
bracken in the dimming light, Daffyd pitched into the clearing and was suddenly
confronted by the business end of his own sword, held in deadly earnest by the
duchess. As soon as she recognized him she let fall the point, but he had the
uncomfortable feeling that if he had not been a friend, he would have not been
alive much longer. A quick vision of the duchess' dispatching of his assailant
with her dagger the previous afternoon flashed through his mind. She reported
that the afternoon had been quiet with no one passing near the hiding place.
Sitting down together in the deep bracken, Daffyd opened his pack and brought
forth the food his hosts had pressed on him. In her own well-bred fashion,
Hollin eagerly devoured the simple fare provided.
As she ate, Daffyd gave
her all of the information he had gleaned in the village. They knew nothing of
the doings in Pentarin, let alone anything of the royal embassy traveling
through their land. Comments about their earl had been discreet but he sensed
no dislike or distrust of Lord Brescom by the villagers. Telling her of the
military activities that the earl had supposedly been practicing of late
brought a keen, speculative look to the young woman's face. Lastly, he informed
her of a larger village to the west of this one, almost a town according to his
informants, where more provisions might be purchased and fewer questions asked.
"It all depends on
what your grace intends to do next," he said on finishing his recitation.
Hollin flicked the
crumbs out of her lap and looked above Daffyd's head at the mountains, their
sun-tipped peaks rising above the forest, now immersed in the dusk. The chill
of evening seemed to exude from the ground beneath her and the trees that
surrounded them. "Do you think that we are safe here for the night?"
He shook his head.
"No, we're too close to the village. My suggestion would be to travel on a
ways, past the village, then we can turn off the road and find a sheltered spot
where we can light a fire."
Hollin nodded and stood
up. "I feel much more fit for traveling after being fed, thank you. Lead
on and I shall follow." She whistled softly and was rewarded by Farion's
head poking through the underbrush.
They traveled quickly
and quietly back to the road, picking it up again on the far side of the
village and, riding together on the horse, continued westward. When the last
stain of sunset left the sky and the stars had begun to burn, Daffyd directed
them off the road and back to a rough shelter, a matter of three walls with a
roof that he had seen signs of from the road. Built to accommodate occasional
shepherds and poor travelers, it was stocked with wood and had a firepit of
smooth stones at the opening. Wooden benches lining the interior walls of the
shelter made hard but dry beds. Lighting a small fire for warmth, they took
turns watching and sleeping through the night.
In the morning, after
splashing water on her face and partaking of yesterday's leavings, Hollin bade
Daffyd to listen to the plans she had made for the immediate future. "It's
obvious that the quest has been betrayed," she began. "I don't know
how our disappearance is to be explained by those who devised it, but their
motives are clear. With the best chance of bringing back the prince destroyed and
myself dead, the way is cleared to begin a civil war. My choices are limited. I
can try to return to Pentarin and let them know of the massacre. A new
expedition might even be raised, but to do so would take much time and I do not
doubt that my enemies would use that time and strike at me again.
"Another
possibility is to ride south and west, eventually returning to Langstraad where
I could send my messages to Pentarin and prepare for the coming assault behind
my own barricades. I might hold Langstraad, but the Pentarchy would still be
broken.
"My last choice,
and I have thought long on this, is to continue on my own with the quest to
find Prince Brian. Only the prince can stop the disunion that is about to take
place." She paused and rubbed her hands together for warmth. “It may be a
fool’s errand in the end, but I must at least attempt it.
"One thing I would
ask of you though, as you value the union of the Pentarchy and your allegiance
to both House Treves and the prince: make your way back to Lord Percamber in
Pentarin and let him know all of what has happened."
Daffyd's clear hazel
eyes met hers resolutely. "When I came to your grace's tent at Durstede,
you accepted my pledge of fealty. I have tried through the last terrible days
to do all in my power to preserve and honour that pledge..."
"You have done
that and more," she interrupted swiftly. "Without your aid, I should
have been slain along with everyone else. You have been a true and faithful
companion Daffyd ap Blewyns, and I thank you for it. "
"Hear me out, your
grace," he pleaded, raising his hand to stop her. "If you intend to
continue with your journey, then I beg you to allow me to accompany you. As you
have seen, I know something of woodcraft from my days in my uncle's house. What
you wish to attempt may entail many weeks of travel though the wilderness of
the mountains. I can help you to travel in safety through them. I do not know
where the prince is or how you intend to find him, but I can keep you alive
while you do."
He paused and she sat
regarding him, pleased yet puzzled by his declaration. "Why? Why do you
wish to continue from one peril into another, possibly greater one, when I have
given you leave, indeed asked you, to return to Pentarin?"
"I have given you
my pledge; I do not wish to turn from it when it is no longer easy or
comfortable." A faint flush of colour rose in his cheeks. "My
existence recently has been in the hands and at the whim of others. To be
honest, it is only in the last two days, perilous though they have been, that I
have begun to feel of some use. Those in Pentarin will know soon enough of the
tragedy. I ask you to let me come with you so that I might lend my strength and
knowledge to your quest." He spoke eloquently and with a candour that
awoke Hollin's sympathy and her respect.
Reflecting on what he
had accomplished for them already, she responded with a look of gratitude.
"Willingly will I accept your aid and your company. You have brought us
safely thus far; together we may yet reach the prince."
Eye to eye, they sat
assessing each other as if newly met, as perhaps they were. "Where do you
wish to go and when?" Daffyd asked at length, with a note of tough
practicality.
"We must turn
north and enter the mountains very soon," she replied, echoing his
pragmatic tone. "This ring I wear is an heirloom of House Sandovar and
resonates to the life-energies of Prince Brian. Do you know what an arcane
trance is?"
He nodded. "Both
my Lord and Lady de Chantalcalm were arcane adepts. I know something of arcane
objects."
"I use this ring
as a focus when I am in trance and it acts as a sort of internal compass. It is
hard to put into words but I can sense where I must go to find him."
"How specific is
this "compass-effect"? Does it show you roads to take or just whether
you are getting closer or moving further away?"
"Both to some
extent. When we started up the Slakestone Pass I knew that we were traveling in
the right direction but I did not "see" the road in my mind. While
you were in the village yesterday, I had time to work with the ring and have
seen a way into the mountains further west that will take us where we need to
go."
"Do
you know where it is that we are going, or how far it is that we must go?"
"I am fairly certain
that our way lies to the north and west, towards those mountains known as the
Pillars of the Sky."
Daffyd rubbed his chin
with the back of his hand. "In that case, I would suggest that we continue
west on this road until we come to the next village. There we can purchase the
provisions that we will need to see us through the mountains."
They set out again,
riding double on Farion's back as the morning sun climbed into the sky. When
they reached the road, Daffyd dismounted to walk beside her, keeping alert for
any other travelers on the road. Once, when he heard a wagon coming towards
them, they quickly scrambled off to the side of the road, hiding deep in the
trees until it had passed. Eventually the trees thinned and the road began to
descend until, coming over a small rise, they looked down on the cluster of
buildings of a town surrounded by tilled fields. Much larger than the previous
village, it was criss-crossed with streets and, even from where they stood,
they could hear voices and see many people moving about. As before, a hiding
place was found for Hollin and Farion far off the road, while Daffyd went to
assay the village.
Night had fallen and
Hollin, hungry and cold, had begun to wonder what had befallen her companion
when Daffyd finally returned. He was tired and his face was drawn as he sat
down and laid a large bundle at her feet. Not speaking, Hollin fetched him a
cup of water from the spring that she and Farion had discovered while he was
away. He thanked her and took a deep drink, smothering a cough when some of the
water went down his windpipe.
"The earl's men
have been riding the road, asking about a red-haired woman," he told her
as he reached into the bundle and handed her some of the food he had obtained.
"The men are not saying who the woman is, only that the earl wishes to
find her and is offering a handsome reward to her finder."
"When were
they through this village?" she asked between mouthfuls.
"Today."
She stopped eating and
stared hard at him in the dim light. He was digging a small pit at her feet in
which he lit a fire. Out of a large piece of rough fabric, also pulled from his
bundle, he constructed a lean-to shelter with the aid of some stout sapling
branches. This shelter was built so as to shield the light of the fire from any
late travelers down on the road or inquisitive eyes from the village.
When he had finished
his labours he came and sat beside her. "I took as much as I could from
the village; I think it will be enough. We must try to get into the mountains
as quickly as possible. The villagers said that the soldiers will be coming
back this way tomorrow. By mentioning the names of some of the people I met
yesterday in the other village, I was able to buy most of what we needed, but
there were suspicious looks and questions none the less."
"We will head
north as soon as it is light." Her voice was steady and decisive.
"Good. By the way,
I found more suitable clothing for you as well, your grace." He grinned as
he spread a bedroll beside the banked fire, indicating that she should sleep in
the shelter.
She raised her eyebrows
wordlessly. Unrolling her bed, she lay down under the primitive shelter. Within
minutes she was asleep, but Daffyd lay awake gazing pensively into the sky
until the moon, a thin crescent, silvery sharp and bright, rose up out of the
trees.
In the early hours of
morning, Daffyd roused the fire enough to heat a pot of water for tea and
washing. Another frugal meal was shared between them, though Daffyd promised
better fare once they were in the mountains where he could hunt and fish.
Farion had grazed the surrounding area thoroughly and was eager to be on his
way to newer pastures. After eating and washing her hands and face, Hollin was
presented with a bundle of what appeared to be coarse rags and a wooden comb.
"I thank you for
the comb," she said beginning to unbraid her tousled hair, "but what
are these?" She pointed to the rags with her foot.
"Those are your
traveling clothes," he replied amiably, heaping dirt into the pit to
smother the fire.
Hollin put down the
comb and gingerly pawed the bundle apart. Her investigation produced a pair of
heavy woolen leggings, a frayed cotton shirt, a leather over-tunic, a pair of
low boots and a dingy grey worsted hat. An expression of amusement flitted across
her face. It was an odd costume to go looking for a prince in, but it would
keep her warm and be easier to walk in than her skirts.
Daffyd, noticing her
scrutiny of the garments, straightened abruptly from the pile of bedrolls, pans
and ropes, packets of food, and various other provisions that he had been
trying to sort and pack. "I'm sorry if the clothes displease your grace,
but I really think that they would be better protection for the rigors of the
mountains than what you have."
"They are more,
what is it you said last night...suitable." She bent and gathered them
into her arms.
"I thought that
your grace could wear your skirts over them..." He stopped, embarrassed.
"They are men's attire but I tried to find ones that I thought would
fit."
Hollin smiled at him.
"Obviously you do not know the scandalous reputation of the Duchess of
Langstraad," she observed. To his puzzled look she explained.
"Frequently in my own domains I wear men's attire when I deem it more
suitable."
Daffyd grinned back at
her. "Scandalous but sensible, your grace."
With a nod, she
modestly retired behind a screen of bushes to change into her new attire. The
woolen leggings were warm, but they itched and she had to school herself not to
scratch at them. She loosened the stays on her skirt, letting it fall to her
ankles and stepped out of it. She kept her own undergarments and chemise on,
pulling the rough peasant garments on over the finely embroidered cotton lawn.
Neatly rolling her discarded clothing into a ball, she sat down beside them to
finish dressing her hair. Combing the snarls out with care, she deftly
rebraided it and wound it about her head, securing it with jeweled pins.
Feeling much the better for her personal ministrations, she shook her cloak out
and refastened it around her shoulders.
