The Silver Sun (30 page)

Chapter Three

A few days later, in the shelter of the Forest, the fugitives paused to hold a council. Hal made his birth and his quest known, and Roran found hope in his words. It was decided that Roran and his retainers would speed northward to prepare Firth for siege, since surely Iscovar would be eager for revenge on him. Trigg would guide them to Craig, and Craig would help them on the way. Hal and Robin, riding more slowly because of Robin's wound, would travel to lay plans with Ket, Margerie and the Gypsies. Alan and Corin would journey to Alan's relatives in the north, though he did not expect to win much help from them. By midsummer, Hal and Alan hoped, they would be back together. Hal would warn Ket to keep an eye on Nabon of Lee in the meantime. If Nabon marched against Celydon, Ket must cut him off before he reached Pelys's domain, and send a messenger to warn the castle.

The company faced a sad leavetaking. Roran, knowing that he would soon face the King's armies, bade farewell to his only son. Cory felt the wrench of leaving Robin, though he was glad to ride at Alan's side. And Hal felt strangely reluctant to be parted from Alan, though he saw no other way to make his bid ready in time. He watched his brother ride away until Alan was only a flash of gold through the summer leaves, and he wondered at the heaviness of his heart. At last, he turned northward with a sigh. The young heir of Firth patiently awaited him.

Hal and Robin made their way through the Forest as fast as Robin's strength would allow, looking for Ket the Red. Craig already knew that the King's army marched toward Firth, and he would harry it to the top of his bent. But Hal needed to enlist Ket's support. Still, when they had located his camp, Hal would not approach him before his men. Robin wondered why, for Hal had said they were friends.

When Ket walked off at dusk into the shadowy Forest, a cloud-gray horse drifted through the thick-woven trees to meet him, soundlessly, like an apparition. Ket paled and swayed where he stood, the more so when he saw Hal's face beneath his silver helm.

“Liege!” Ket whispered, trembling.

Hal was off of Arundel in an instant, taking him by the shoulders, restraining him, for he had started to kneel. “None of that, I beg you,” he told him. “Ket, why are you afraid?"

“My Prince....” Quaking, Ket turned away his face; he could not go on.

“How does he know that?” Robin blurted.

“He just knows. He knows my Lady, he knows me. Ket, look at me!” Hal almost shook him.

The tall outlaw raised anguished eyes. “I had not thought to rival ye,” he faltered.

“Of course not. I would know it if you had. How could you see her truly, and not love her? Ket, why are you so afraid?"

“Ye—ye're so changed.” Still, his trembling had calmed, as Hal did not fail to note.

“I am the same man you knew before. Perhaps you see me better. I think it is you who have changed, more than I.” Hal released Ket and settled himself on a twisted root, and as he had hoped, Ket sat by his side. They both kept silence a while, letting their words trickle through the mesh of their emotions, until Robin awkwardly turned and rode away. Hal put his head back against a thick old tree.

“How did ye know?” Ket murmured at last.

Hal shrugged. “What matter? I want no accounting from you, Ket; I want help. But can you tell, now, what I want from you even more?"

“The greeting of a friend.” Ket turned, his brown eyes dark with remorse. “But I have failed ye, Hal."

“Not entirely.” Hal quirked a smile at him. “You have just called me by my name."

Ket gulped out a laugh that was half a sob, and they hugged each other, bursting into eager talk. Ket wanted to know where was Alan, who was Robin? And Hal asked plaintively about his lady; he would not see her yet awhile.

The next day he and Robin, with Ket and all his band, started east. For a month or more the two travelers spent their time helping the outlaws, and later the Gypsies, slow the advance of the King's army. It was a difficult time of hard riding and long waits in ambush, snatched sleep and nighttime raids. Hal did not dare to show his face near Whitewater town, so with many misgivings he sent Robin as his messenger to Margerie. The youth returned triumphant—cocky, indeed. Robin loved the excitement and danger of his new life. But the pace, and worry for his family, wore him more than he cared to admit. And, though he would not complain, his legs still pained him, making him feel weak and sick. Some days he thought he could not have kept on if it were not for Hal's unfailing kindness. He never guessed how lost and lonely Hal felt without Alan.

After they had seen Iscovar's army to the Marches, they turned southward again, hurrying toward Celydon, for Ket had said that Nabon's preparations were far advanced. It was late in July when they reached him at last.

“Alan?” Hal demanded.

“Not yet."

“And Nabon; when will he move?"

“Any day.” Ket raised his eyebrows as a panting messenger ran into camp. “By my beard, I believe it is now!"

Rosemary was crossing Celydon courtyard when a warrior cantered in at the gate, and she stopped in her tracks. “Hal!” she breathed. Yet she felt as if she stared at someone she had never seen before, someone in shining helm and mail, with straight lines to his arms and back and a hard set to his jaw. He sped toward her like an arrow, and leaped down while Arundel was still in stride.

“Lady!” he exclaimed. “Rosemary....” It was the first time he had called her by her given name, and she believed he had almost called her Love; his eyes on her had gone soft as evening mist, his face breathless and still. His hand had stopped in midair. She moved her own; fingertips just touched, but warmth sprang through them.

The other rider trotted up, and Hal tore himself away from her with a rending like the parting of flesh. They both felt that pang. “Lady,” said Hal hurriedly, “I must go to your father at once; Lee is on the march. Will you keep this for me? I will be back for it, after the fighting.” He slipped off his plinset and handed it to her. How odd it had looked, slung over his warlike mail.

She watched after him as he strode into the keep, and silently watched as he rode away, a few minutes later. He turned to her once, met her gaze mutely, then galloped toward the Forest. Within the hour, Pelys's garrison marched out to battle. Near their fore rode Rafe on a giant black charger. He was lieutenant of guards now, and Will was his captain, but this was their first fray.

Alan had found his mother's kinsfolk in the north to be of even less help than he had feared. Determined to bring some good news to Hal, he led Cory into the depths of the Westwood, where they encountered outlaws, as they hoped they would. After eavesdropping on some sentries, Alan allowed himself to be captured by a band under the leadership of a spearlike man called Blain the Lean. Within a few hours, Blain was feasting him like a longtime friend, and Alan was glad of it, for the word of the wilds was that Blain commanded nearly a thousand bows.

“I serve a certain Prince,” Alan remarked obliquely over his meat.

“A Prince who is imprisoned, you mean?” Blain shot him a sharp glance. “He and the King do not agree, it seems, which is all to his favor."

“Nay, he roams, as I do,” Alan answered cautiously. “The peasants call him Silver Sun."

Blain had seen Alan's own shield, of the golden sun design, and Alan thought be might have heard of Hal's. But he was not expecting the force of Blain's reaction. The outlaw lurched toward him, almost leaning into the fire. “When?” he cried.

“What?” Alan nearly choked on his food.

“When will that vile Tower break? Already it cracks. Tell me when!” Blain's eyes stared wildly through the smoke.

“What do the songs say?” Alan softly threw the question back to him.

“Spring.” Blain subsided to his seat. “When outlaws march in light of day, and fires burn bright at end of May. Spring.
This
spring?"

“You have said yourself, the dark den cracks,” Alan murmured, mindful of listeners. “Will you march, Blain?"

“I and my men, till we drop!” the outlaw promised fiercely. He leaned back with a sigh of admiration. “How clever of you and the Prince to have planned your timing according to that song! And you have patterned your very shields after the old tales! You'll have every peasant in Isle ready to give his life for your cause."

Alan stared at him, frowning uneasily. “The time was not of our planning,” he said at last.

“As you say.” Blain smiled eagerly, avoiding a disagreement. “Where should we march, my men and I?"

“Laueroc."

“Ah.” Blain nodded, his narrow eyes glinting. “But more, my lord, tell me more of this Prince, and of yourself! We have need of hope, here."

“Make yourself some.” Alan rose. “I will return another time to tell you more. But now I must hasten back to his side. I have been away from him too long."

Blain gave him escort out of the Westwood. Alan and Cory left the keen-edged outlaw at the last fringe of trees and hurried eastward. Their search for support had taken more time than they had wished. Though they journeyed as quickly as they could, speeding back across Isle, July was nearly over when they entered the Forest once more.

They cantered toward Celydon, anxious to be reunited with their comrades, looking for Hal at every turn of the woodland trail. But as they neared their destination, they noted a cloud of dust above the trees, and heard the distant clang of weapons.

“Nabon must be attacking sooner than expected,” Alan muttered as they hastily buckled on their helms. “Do your best, Cory!"

The road to Celydon ran through a valley beneath a knifelike ridge. It was here that Ket had chosen to set his ambush. Alan and Cory urged their horses to the top and looked down on a raging battle. Ket had arranged a rock-slide, first, to divide the invading army. Now his outlaws, together with the guards from Celydon, struggled against the remaining invaders. Many of Nabon's men lay dead beneath the rocks or with tufted arrows in their throats, and the rest were trapped against the rocks and the steep slope; but they still numbered more than the forces of Celydon. Ket's men had laid aside their bows, fighting with the quarterstaff, and could do little except defend themselves and contain their enemy. Pelys's men killed, but they were bloodlet and tiring.

Alan and Corin thundered down the slope. Nabon's men were taken off guard, but the defenders were expecting something of the sort, and pressed the attack. The momentum of the charge broke Lee's defenses, and several invaders were killed. Alan circled Alfie and sent him into the jumble of rock. The horse climbed with the agility of a goat, and Corin's steed hesitantly followed his lead. Though they were only two against many, Alan and Cory devastated the rear of the invaders’ defenses, gaining great advantage from their height.

All was confusion now in the ranks of the enemy, for they did not know which way to turn. Celydon's forces cheered and attacked with renewed vigor, some of them joining Cory and Alan on the rocks. They wreaked havoc on the forces of Lee until, finding a gap where men had moved to climb the slope, Nabon's warriors fled as best they could, leaving their dead and wounded behind them.

Rafe was furious that they had escaped. “Forward!” he cried fiercely. “Track the rats of Lee to their burrow! Now is our chance to put down the menace to the South forever!"

“Softly!” retorted Will. “What would you do with Lee if you had it? Divide our lord's forces, peradventure, and leave him open to the attack of Gaunt? Or perhaps you expect Lord Pelys to leave Celydon and move to Lee?"

“Are we then to leave Nabon to attack us again in a year or two?” Rafe persisted hotly.

“Have better hope,” drawled Ket, limping to his side. “Have ye not heard the whispers that fill the land?” Rafe stared, uncomprehending. But before he could speak, Alan rode up with a troubled face.

“Have any of you seen Hal?"

“He should have been here hours ago!” exclaimed Ket. “He and Robin rode this morning to warn Celydon. D'ye think he would be dallying with the lady, at a time like this?"

“Some ill must have chanced,” muttered Alan. He and Corin shot off before the others could express their concern.

They rode far apart, zigzagging in search, whistling to each other now and then to stay abreast. They had not gone a mile when Corin heard Alan's frightened cry. The sound came from a tree-lined knoll, and Corin hastened to the spot. He found Alan bending over Robin, listening to his chest “He is not so badly hurt,” Alan said, trying to sound sure. Wrapping the still form in his cloak, he gently lifted it to the saddle before Corin. “Take him to the castle,” he said. “I must find Hal.” Cory left at the fastest pace he dared with his precious burden.

The other two bodies were those of kingsmen. They stirred and groaned. With averted eyes, Alan ran his sword through each. Then he mounted Alfie and set off at top speed on the plain trail that ran through the Forest, following the prints of horses’ hooves. How many sets? Eight? Ten? Even a dozen? He could not tell. From time to time the Forest mold was splashed with great clots and dashes of blood. Fiercely Alan told himself that it was not Hal's, but relentlessly the truth contradicted his hopes. Why else would Hal not lose his pursuers in a fox's maze of twisting tricks, as he had done so often before? Because the blood trail made all such devices useless. The spoor led straight as an arrow toward Whitewater. What lay there? No friends outside the walls, though the kingsmen did not know that. In his time of need, Hal's concern had been only to lead the enemy away from Robin, and Celydon, and from Ket's men, so exposed in battle. Bad luck, or worse than bad luck, that he had been attacked when there were none in the Forest to aid him! Alan cursed that luck bitterly as he sent Alfie at merciless speed along the trail.