The Guardian (34 page)

“They leave that to such as you?”

“To common hire-swords,” I said, grinning. “Some, at least.”

“Did my father?”

I shook my head. “Andur fought with his men. He was brave, and always to the fore.”

“Then so,” she declared stoutly, “shall I be.”

“I don’t doubt that,” I said, which elicited a smile. “Now—shall we continue?”

She said, “I’m hungry.”

I must admit I was, but I deemed it best we go on until Shara summoned us, so I said, “Battles don’t stop because your belly grumbles,” and we took up our swords again and set back to flogging the dummy.

We kept it up as the sun moved across the sky and natural shadows began to fill the yard. I saw Ellyn wearying, her blows growing weaker, her shield arm drooping. I thought to call a halt, but before I could, Shara appeared, cool and smiling.

“Likely you’ll want to bathe. Then there’ll be a meal ready.”

“Not before time,” I heard Ellyn mutter.

“And after,” Sham said, looking at Ellyn, “we’ll speak of sorcery.”

Ellyn groaned.

It was a fine dinner, but when it was eaten Shara took Ellyn off and left me alone. I lingered awhile, wondering what shades might emerge to clear away our plates and cups, but none came and I rose and went to the stables to check our horses. They were content, with water and straw in abundance, and I returned inside to find my room. I paced awhile on the balcony, then settled to sleep.

T
hat was the way of it for some weeks. I’d rise and take my breakfast with the two females, then Ellyn and I would go to the yard and practice. What Shara did, I had no idea, save that each evening she’d take Ellyn away and neither one
would speak of what they discussed. I sometimes grew bored and wandered the keep, discovering its curious wonders. I found a library—a vast hall stacked from floor to high ceiling with ancient books—and read some of them, learning much of Chaldor’s history, of the Sea Kings and suchlike, but nothing at all of the Vachyn. It seemed there was not a single tome that mentioned them. I explored the armory, finding strange weapons whose use I could not comprehend, and armor such as I’d never seen. Sometimes I’d take my horse from the stable and ride her about the canyon; sometimes Ellyn and Shara would accompany me. Strange journeys those, for animals I’d always known as wild would trot calmly from our path and watch us go by—deer, which seemed to find us no threat, and foxes that sat with lolling tongues like friendly dogs. It was as if I had happened on that paradise the priests promise, when the world ends and the gods deliver all to peace—save that daily I trained Ellyn for war.

She was quick to learn. Andur had already taught her somewhat of swordwork, and she was soon adept. I set her exercises to strengthen her, requiring her to hold increasingly heavy stones above her head, or at arm’s length; to squat and spring upright; to run with me in endless circles about the yard. Sometimes I’d take food from the breakfast table, sometimes not, explaining that in war a soldier could not expect to eat regularly. I taught her to hold her buckler correctly, and how to fight without that protection. I tutored her in the use of the bow—at which she excelled—and how to use a knife in close-quarters fighting. And she gave herself to the lessons with an enthusiasm that was at first grim, but then increasingly willing as her prowess grew. After a while, we discarded the padded practice tunics (I took to wearing one when she became good enough to deliver me stout blows) and we trained in full armor, or in only shirts and breeches.

In time, I deemed her fit enough that we took to horseback, and set our mounts to charging at one another, trading
blows or loosing blunt practice arrows. She no longer lost her temper when she took a tumble, but only cursed like any good soldier and rubbed her bruises and remounted, and returned to our mock combats.

And meanwhile, the year aged. The canyon grew cooler, though the grass remained green and there was no sign of frost, for all I knew it must be deepest winter in the lands we’d left behind. When I studied the surrounding hills, I saw snow on their flanks, and I knew that should I ride clear of this idyllic valley I’d find frozen streams and bleak midwinter. Here, though, I knew mild sunshine and cheerful birdsong. Indeed, it seemed there were more birds, as if they found a refuge here.

It was a curious respite, as if we had taken a step aside from the normal passage of time and now lived in some alternative world. There seemed to be an endless supply of food and wine and ale—and even brose—that came from sources I did not question. We ate meat, but we never hunted, nor did I find any stockyards, or chicken coops for the eggs we ate; nor ever saw the kitchens or who (or what?) prepared our food or made our beds or filled our baths. And when I ventured to question Shara on such mundane wonders, she only smiled and told me it was magic, and sometimes exchanged a glance with Ellyn, who seemed to know more of such matters than I, but would give me no more information than Shara.

I thought they became friends. Surely Ellyn expressed no more resentment of the sorceress, and as she grew stronger and more skilled, they spent more time together. But I was never privy to their lessons. Shara would come watch us practice and then take Ellyn away to some part of the hold I never saw, for I could never find it—though I sometimes tried to follow them. When I did, I’d find myself wandering a lit corridor that gave onto old and empty chambers all filled with dust and spiders, weeds sprouting from the flagstones, or turning in what I was sure was the direction
they’d taken only to find myself back where I’d started, or outside my own room. After a while I gave up and left them to whatever arcane studies they pursued and devoted myself to the library. That, I could always find—as if the shadows would teach me, or at least grant me the opportunity to learn. But I never discovered who built the castle (though I learned much of castles’ construction and how they might be torn down), or what had become of the builders. I asked Shara, but she told me only that she had found the place through some magical instinct when she fled the Vachyn.

It was hard in many ways, so easy in others. I lived a life of such luxury as I was not accustomed to, and with a woman I desired but could not have. Shara held me at arm’s length, whilst Ellyn made it increasingly obvious that I should be welcomed to her bed. I lusted after the one and refused the other, and we came to an awkward compromise that someday we all knew must be resolved. And meanwhile, I felt time passing in a manner I could not comprehend. We seemed to live in an unnaturally long spring that was followed by a high summer that continued far longer than it should. There was no winter here, and I wondered how long we sojourned in this magical valley, beyond the passing years outside.

I questioned Ellyn as we practiced, but she prevaricated and gave me no clearer answers. I assumed she was sworn to some vow of secrecy, and surely she never spoke of her lessons or her knowledge, save with a secretive smile and a display of renewed vigor that took my mind from the topic as I concentrated on defeating her. By all the gods, she was good! She learned apace and I must work ever harder to hold her off. I believed that before long she might well stand her ground against most men, for what she lacked in weight and strength was balanced by speed and agility. Indeed, she learned so fast I wondered if she used magic, but she denied that accusation and swore she only learned from me.

In which Shara supported her, swearing that Ellyn’s burgeoning prowess was naught at all to do with her, but only Ellyn.

I had felt them growing closer, but that remark brought a blush of pride to Ellyn’s cheeks and I saw her turn to Shara with a genuine smile on her lips.

“And her talent?” I asked. “How does that progress?”

“As well and as swiftly,” Shara replied. “She’s an excellent study.”

They exchanged more looks then, and I felt somewhat of an outsider. They shared knowledge I knew nothing of, nor ever could be a part of, and I felt suddenly lonely. I wondered what transpired in the outside world. How did Chaldor fare under Talan’s heel? Were men—or worse—out seeking us? Was Kerid free, awaiting the call to battle? Did Eryk still hunt the Dur?

I asked Shara, but she only told me: “I do not know. I
cannot
know, for this place is …” She hesitated. Then: “It’s cut off—a refuge and a haven that seems, as best I can understand it, to exist outside of the world’s time. I think we might leave here and find only a few days have passed since we crossed the Barrens. Or years. You remember I told you that time was different in the Barrens? It’s even more different here. It’s …”

“Years?” Ellyn interrupted her.

“Or more,” Shara said. “Or less.”

“Then Talan might have established his rule.” Ellyn frowned deeply “Perhaps there’s no more resistance; perhaps Chaldor has forgotten me.”

“Perhaps,” Shara replied with an equanimity I found no less troubling than Ellyn’s, “but remember what we’ve discussed. Talan is only a tool in Nestor’s hands, and Nestor represents the interests of the Vachyn. They’re your real enemy.”

“I’d still have Talan’s head,” Ellyn declared.

I nodded my approval.

Ellyn’s face was dour, her voice grim. “And I’d avenge my parents.”

“The gods willing, you shall.” Shara filled a glass with rich, red wine. “But only when you’re ready.”

Once, Ellyn would have chafed at that, but now she only bowed her head in acceptance. I knew she learned discipline, but I had not until then properly realized how much Shara had taught her. This was no longer the willful princess I’d threatened to spank, but a queen in the making.

Then a little of the child showed through as Ellyn added, “But not too long, eh?”

And so it went as winter—or another year, or for all I knew, a century—passed, and I began to chafe at the long delay. It was like those stories told when I was a child, of the venturer under the hill where the faery folk live, who lingers awhile only to find, on emerging, that lifetimes have gone by and all he knew is dead and the world all changed.

It would have been easier had I a woman. I wanted Shara. She was, after all, beautiful, and I saw her as a trusted companion, but did I hint she only smiled and spoke of duty. I am ashamed to admit that there were nights I contemplated acceptance of that offer Ellyn made, but I am proud to say that I drove such notions away. But by the gods, had those shades who served us been fleshly, I’d have found myself some wench to warm my bed, for old books are no compensation for a woman’s body, and there were nights I lay awake thinking of old loves, and slept only to dream of Shara.

And so it went, until …

I
thought I dreamed. That musky scent was in my nostrils and I felt her hands on me. I could hear her voice, urging me to wake. I pushed the sheets aside and opened my arms, gesturing an invitation. I think I said, “At last.”

“Gailard, wake up!”

I opened my eyes and she was standing over me.

I smiled and reached for her.

She stepped a short pace back and fended off my clutching hands.

“Gailard, we’ve trouble.”

Her voice was curt, harsh-edged with urgency. I lost my pleasant, dream-born notions and sat up.

“Nestor’s hunters are here.”

I swung from the bed, careless of my nudity, and splashed water over my face.

“Where? How?” I tugged on clothes as I spoke. It had been a while since I’d donned that plated tunic Ryadne had gifted me. I belted on my sword and took up my old, familiar buckler.

“They’re in the valley.”

“How many?”

“Five.”

“So few?” Almost, I laughed. I had assumed she spoke of an army—save Shara’s expression was urgent and frightened, and I had never seen her frightened before. “The broch’s secure, no? Are there only five, we can pick them off with arrows.”

“These are worse than any army. They’re Nestor’s creations, and they’ll be hard to kill.”

I frowned. “Can you not use your magic to slay them?”

“Not …” She shook her head. “Not readily. They’ll be linked to Nestor, and do I slay them, he’ll know where we are. He’ll sense their deaths and know where Ellyn is. I’d sooner …”

“They were slain by steel?” I eased my blade from the scabbard, testing the edge. I saw for the first time that she was kilted for battle. She wore breeches and a tunic similar to my own. There was a long sword on her slender waist, and a buckler strapped across her back. Her hair was contained in a filigree helmet.

“It would be … safer.”

“Then let’s go slay them.” I moved toward the door. “Where’s Ellyn?”

“Asleep, I hope.”

I realized for the first time that it was not yet dawn. The sky beyond my windows was a misty grey; the birds were not yet singing. It was the time I’d have chosen for a fast attack: when folk sleep and are easy prey.

“She can fight,” I said. “Are these hunters so bad as your eyes tell me, she could use a bow and not come close.”

Shara shook her head. “I’d sooner she’d not. I’d sooner she knows nothing of this until it’s over.” She hesitated. Then, troubled: “I’ve taught her enough of magic she could use her talent to slay them, and that would reveal her to Nestor—who’d send an army to hunt her down. And I doubt she can hold her temper in check.”

“Do you say that their deaths shall alert Nestor to her presence?” I asked, confused. “Or only does she use magic?”

“He’ll know they die,” came her answer. “But can we slay them with plain steel, he’ll not know where.”

“I thought,” I said, fastening straps, checking my gear, “that this valley was hidden by magic. That we were safe here from Nestor’s observation.”

“It is,” she assured me, “save … These hunters are linked to Nestor as is a child to its mother. There’s an aetheric cord that binds them to him, and is that sundered by magic, he’ll know precisely the where and the how of it. He’ll find us, is magic used.”

“Can honest steel slay them?” I asked.

“Yes,” came her hesitant answer. And a moment later: “With difficulty.”

“Then how do we face them? On horseback?”

“No. Animals sense what they are and become frightened.”