Shadowland (2 page)

‘He makes them up, and for some reason, keeps the
real history of his life a closely guarded secret. Do you think he has a
greater story that he chooses to hide?’

A frown creased Usher's face as he sought out the
heckler. Everyone had turned towards the door and as Usher looked over, he felt
the first low feelings of a strange foreboding enter into the pit of his stomach.
In the fireplace, another log burnt through and settled causing flames to leap
up, brightening the faces of the villagers and revealing for the first time a
stooped figure by the door.

The stranger, leaning heavily upon a thick staff, was
cloaked from head to foot in a dark material that glistened with droplets of
rain, freshly brought in from the cold winter’s night.

‘Why don’t you tell them a real story, Usher? Why
don’t you tell them who Usher Vance really is, and where he came from, instead
of prattling on like some old fool with no life worth the telling of?’ The
stranger took a step forward and, raising a cold white hand, drew the hood from
his head. There were several drawn breaths and a whisper of speculation from
the villagers as they watched this unexpected drama unfold before them.

The stranger pulled his eyes from Usher and gazed
about him. ‘You have a personality of sorts before you, but not the one you
thought you had.’ Usher felt the blood drain from his face as the shock of
recognition crept upon him. He felt the clay pipe drop from his mouth but was
only vaguely aware of the sound it made as it connected with the stone floor,
breaking in two with the slightest of clinks.

‘No welcome, Usher?’ The stranger moved over to
crouch down at the storyteller's feet. ‘I have made a long and terrible journey
to find you, old friend, one I shall reveal another time. For now though, I beg
you tell us a real story, Usher Vance, not one of your fancies. Why not tell of
how two boys chanced upon some wolves and saw the world they knew come to its
end. Talk to us, Usher Vance. It’s been so many years and my memories have all
but deserted me.’

It took some moments while Usher considered the
sparse white hair and the mottled, almost grey skin as the dancing flames of
the fire revealed the stranger’s features. Finally, it was the eyes, they spoke
to him of another time and another person; they still blazed with an intensity
that he had almost forgotten. Sighing, as he collected his wits from where they
had deserted him to the furthest corners of his mind, he addressed the visitor.

‘Good evening, Calvador. Forgive me for being
somewhat bewildered; recognition was a little hard in coming after all these
years. You always did like to make an entrance, didn’t you?’ He glanced around
at the expectant faces and smiled as he accepted another clay pipe. Reaching
out, he squeezed the shoulder of the kneeling figure and stared down into his
cold, almost yellow eyes. ‘It’s good to see you, old friend. Will you stay to
hear an old man’s story?’

‘I will stay to hear your story, Usher Vance, but
the story is of two old men, not one. Two old men that were once boys, forced
to grow up far too quickly, and I would also appreciate a chair and a mug of
something warming, if that is not too much to ask.’

As one of the villagers helped him up into a chair
by the fire, the innkeeper fetched mulled wine and a bowl of broth. ‘Please
begin, Usher. I hunger for memories of times past.’ Accepting the broth, he
blew steam from its surface before taking a tentative sip. After a moment, he
looked up. ‘It has been a long time since I tasted anything quite so good,
thank you.’ The innkeeper nodded and resumed his seat.

Seeing the room was at last settled, Usher gathered
himself once more; ready to begin a tale he had not prepared, yet surely knew
better than any other. ‘My name is Usher Vance and this... this is my friend,
Calvador Craen.’ The old storyteller gazed at the small audience of expectant
faces and then settled back.
‘We have both lived long and somewhat interesting lives, a little of
which I shall try to recall for you now.’ He drew upon his newly lit pipe and
nodded in appreciation. ‘Between us we are very likely to be far older than you
may think. Let me start at the beginning… at the end of a beautiful day… many,
many years ago.’

Chapter
One – The end of a day

Edging
his toes closer to the lip of the cliff, Usher peered down at the rock far
below where Cal
sat shivering in the lengthening shadows. It was now or never. Biting back
common sense and throwing caution to the wind, Usher stepped back and then
committed himself to the jump that all summer he had felt destined to make.

‘Cal, Cal. Watch me
… Cal!’

Running two steps forward he took a mighty leap, to
gain some distance from the jagged belly of the cliff, and flew, rejoicing in
the sudden rush of air as he tumbled, arms and legs waving wildly as he
narrowly missed the rocky outcrop of the cliffs that they called The Tooth. '
Caaaaaaaaaaaaaalll
!'

As the dark water of the lake rushed towards him, he
stole a moment of satisfaction from the shocked look on Cal’s upturned face. He just caught his cry
of ‘
Usher…You crazy fool!
Ush
...’
before he hit the cold water with an explosion
that drove the air from his lungs and plunged him into a world of confusion.

The lake claimed him. A roaring sound filled his
ears, and he struggled to control the panic that threatened to smother him. He
gagged, and just managed to resist the impulse to draw a breath of ice-cold
water into his aching lungs. The lake filled his senses, fizzing and swirling,
smothering him as he kicked out, desperately seeking a direction for the
surface with its promise of salvation and sweet warm air. At last, where he
least expected it, sunlight revealed itself, dancing in patterns on the
surface, and he kicked towards it, frantic in his need to breathe.

Slowly, very slowly, he closed in on the shimmering
light, fighting the lake’s reluctance to release him from its cold embrace.
After an age of effort, he broke the surface, drew a great, gasping breath, and
coughed. Then pain exploded in his hand as it struck a rock. Ignoring it, he
stretched out struggling to claw himself onto the rock until there was one
glorious moment where he relaxed and slowly brought his breathing under
control.

‘Usher? Usher?’ Cal’s cry brought him back to reality.

Looking up for the first time, he drew breath to
call out in response, but then saw that he had surfaced some distance from
where he had entered, and that Cal was standing with his back to him on the
opposite side of the rock. Cal
was frantically peering below into the depths of the lake, still searching for
some sign of him. Very slowly, Usher climbed out and, taking care where he
placed his feet, crept across the treacherous surface.

‘Usher?’ Cal
was shivering, standing with his bare feet searching for grip as he edged
closer to the water. ‘Usher?…Hell’s teeth Usher!…We never jump from the point,
you crazy goat. Usher!
Ush
... ’

Moving forward, Usher shoved him, silencing his
friend's cries and sending him flying into the icy water, arms flapping for a
hold on empty air.

He sat shivering and hugged his knees, and then
grinned as moments later, Cal
fought to the surface coughing and spluttering.

‘
Usher, you…!’
screamed Cal, clearly annoyed as he splashed water up at his tormentor

‘Come on, Cal,
stop playing about. You’ll catch your death of cold in this water. Isn’t that
what your mum always says?’ Usher drew his lips together and in a high-pitched
voice, mimicked Cal’s
overbearing mother.
‘Calvador, you wrap
up warm and look after your sister. No swimming, climbing, hunting or having
fun of any sort, do you hear me, young man!’
A stick came flying towards
him and as he sidestepped to avoid it, he slipped then stumbled, scraping his
back on the rock and sliding into the water once again. His face creased and
his back arched in a spasm of pain and then the water abruptly cut off his cry
as he slid below the still surface. Cal
struck out, frantically swimming around the rock in an effort to get to his
friend as he came spluttering back to the surface. They helped each other up
onto the rock, and it was all Usher could do to mumble his thanks with his face
still reflecting the needles of pain in his back.

‘I think it’s about time we got back,’ said Cal, as he clambered up
and gathered their things. He sorted through until he found Usher’s tunic and
threw it over as Usher flopped down. ‘Are you all right?’ Usher nodded.

During the long hot days of summer, the lake was a
favourite location for everyone at the village. The women washed clothes in it,
most people chose to bathe there at least once a month, and many would use the
shallows close to the wood to cool off or play once their work was done. The
cliffs however, were a special place for the boys of the village. It was a
tradition to challenge each other to climb ever higher before leaping down into
the lake’s icy waters far below. This late in the year, there were few other
swimmers, especially as the chill air came in towards the end of the day. It
was to be Usher and Cal’s
last swim of the summer and so Usher had made the one jump that no other boy
from the village had made.

They were shivering as they hurried to pull on
leggings and coarse linen tunics, exaggerating the chattering of their teeth
and laughing at each other’s efforts to dress. Usher fought with the unyielding
material, trying to drag it down over his growing body. At fourteen years, he
was growing fast, faster than his mother could stitch new clothes, and with a
sound that made them both stop what they were doing, the linen ripped at the
neckline.

‘Oh, wick!’ moaned Usher. Taking a deep breath, he
slowly pulled the obstinate tunic into place before investigating the damage.

‘It’s only come away at the stitching,’ observed Cal. ‘Maybe Clarise will
be able to fix it before your mother sees it.’

Usher shook his head. ‘Clarise might try, but she
only has eight summers. I doubt she can stitch any good yet, can she?’ He
didn’t wait for an answer. ‘Come on, let’s get going, we’re losing light.’

If it got too dark, the path would be treacherous.
Both boys had finished the climb after sunset on several previous occasions,
and been forced to make the last few spans in darkness, praying that they might
find the next handhold and not become stuck clinging to the cliff until
daybreak.

When they finally made it to the top, the sun was
touching the horizon with the last of its light shimmering across the lake in a
blaze of glory. They sat and rested, watching entranced as the sun melted slowly
below the far tree line, turning the sky blood red and painting the edge of a
solitary cloud with a deep pink blush. Gazing upwards, they could see every
shade of orange and yellow until it faded directly above them to a green and
then blue, it was a worthy display for the last day of summer. The first few
stars were already sparkling and a crescent moon sat high in the east. Far
below, a commotion drew their attention towards the centre of the lake. A raft
of ducks splashing across the smooth orange surface of the water came towards
them, gaining speed in an effort to become airborne. The sudden movement jolted
the boys into action, and had them hurriedly untying slings from their waists
before scrabbling around to find good rounded stones.

Cal
was the first to stand
ready. Whirling the sling around his head, he let fly, but then groaned as the
stone missed, startling the ducks into veering away. When Usher rose a moment
later, the opportunity had passed.

They walked back towards the trees in silence. Still
damp from their swim, Usher’s clothes were clinging to him. He felt a shiver
run through him from the chill evening air and silently wished they were
already back by the warmth of the fireside.

They made it to the forest where the path became
darker, the moon offering just enough light as it filtered through the leafy
canopy to see its foot-worn surface stretching ahead. The trail was familiar to
both of them.

All around were the sounds of the forest, crickets,
owls, frogs from the pond, and the occasional heavier footfalls of larger
animals as they crept through the undergrowth. There were the sounds of both
the hunters and the hunted. Something crashed through branches to the side of
them and they picked up the pace again, ever more eager to be back in the
village to warm up.

The smell of wood-smoke from the cooking fires was
the first announcement that the village was not far ahead. It hung in the air,
drifting through the trees, offering the occasional tantalising aroma of
cooking meat, and roasting vegetables. Lost for a moment in the heady smells of
the evening, they almost didn’t see what was standing in their path until it
was almost too late.

Usher pulled Cal down into a crouch and clapped a
hand across his mouth as a
little way
ahead
, the black
shapes of three wolves emerged from the trees to stand in the middle of the
path, their noses held high, sorting through the unfamiliar smells around them.

‘They won’t attack,’ Usher assured with a whisper,
hoping he sounded more confident than he felt. He remained squatting down
unsure of what to do. The wolves hadn’t seen them yet, but they weren’t moving
away either.