The Swans' War 1 - The One Kingdom (16 page)

"I'll tell you," Baore whispered, "I'm sorely tempted to go back to the boat and never knock on this door. Whoever waits beyond is strange."In the moonlight Tarn could see Cynddl nod his agreement, but Fynnol stood with his head cocked, listening intently. Curiosity would be his undoing.

Before any decision could be made, the door opened and a woman stepped through carrying a wooden bucket in each hand. The keening ended abruptly, and she dropped the buckets in fright and bolted back through the door in a flutter of skirts and apron. She left the door ajar, however, and the four stood looking into a small, dark courtyard.

"Well, we can hardly disappear now," Tarn said.” She did not look so very strange, Baore, though she was hardly polite."A moment later they heard footsteps.

"What is it you want?" came a creaky voice: an old man, it seemed.

"We want nothing, grandfather," Tam said gently.” In the dark we ran our boat up on the shore of your island and wait only for sunrise to be on our way again. We are honest men, grandfather. You needn't fear us."Tam thought he saw movement in the archway where the woman had disappeared.

"If you are honest men why do you carry arms?" All of them hesitated to answer for a second.” We were set upon by brigands at the ford at Wil-lowwand. It's made us wary, for we're unused to such things. We're three young men from the Vale of Lakes and our Fael companion, Cynddl—""Fael?" the man said quickly.” Would good Cynddl walk out where he can be seen?" Tam looked over at Cynddl.

"Good Cynddl.. . ?" the story finder echoed. He stared into the dark for a moment.” I don't think he'll stick me full of arrows," he said, and went a few steps into the courtyard, where the moonlight found him, silvering his hair.

An old man wearing a long robe emerged from the shadows, bowed, and to everyone's surprise, greeted Cynddl in his own language.” Have we found Fael dwelling here, on this isolated island?" Fynnol whispered.” No," Tam said, "though for one of our own people, he seems to have a strange liking for black wanderers." "Will you vouch for these others who accompany you?" the old man asked a bit anxiously. His voice rasped and creaked like iron wearing on iron.” I have always found the Fael to be peace-loving people...." "I will, grandfather. They mean you no harm." Cynddl could be seen leaning forward slightly in the poor light, staring at the old man.” How is it you know my language?" "Oh, I do not know it," the old man said, smoothing his robe.” Only the greeting and a few other polite phrases. I am an old man and have learned much in my years. Much that I've forgotten, I'm afraid. But I'm being a poor host. Welcome to my home. Come in, come in." He waved a hand at the dark doorway.” You will have to forgive Hannah. We get so few visitors here and you surprised her in the dark. She is not used to people, you see. Well, my son and I are people, I realize, but strangers— They seldom find us on this stretch of the river." They followed the old man up a flight of stone stairs, poorly lit from above. Whoever held the candles at the stairhead was leery, hanging back, hoarding the light. As they reached the top they saw the woman, Hannah, back away, holding up a candlebranch like a bright shield. The old man crossed to her, gesturing to the visitors and patting her reassuringly on the arm, then touching his heart.” They are friends, Hannah, you needn't be concerned." She nodded quickly but backed away, thrust the candles into the old man's hand, and then darted out a door.” Ah, you see, she is terribly shy." The old man stroked his beard, staring at the door where Hannah had disappeared.

Then he shook his head and turned back to his guests.” But I am a poor host. Did I say that already?" he asked, but didn't wait for an answer.” Shall I offer you refreshment? I will tell you, we are so isolated here that we make do without many of the comforts of civilization, but we have wine and ale and the purest water that man has ever drunk."Another man appeared then, a servant, younger than his master but not young. The old man sent him off for wine, water, and ale, not waiting to hear what anyone would chose. He stood stroking his beard again, looking terribly distracted.” Now, I know I am forgetting something . . ." he muttered.

"I am Tamlyn Loell and this is my cousin, Fynnol Loell. Baore Talon is his cousin, and Cynddl's name you have heard."The old man listened to this, nodding his head rhythmically. Still his blank look remained.” Cynddl..." he mused.” This is a derivative of the great navigator's name: Cynddlyn. You must be the heir of an important family.""Not so important," Cynddl muttered.

They waited a moment more, then Tarn spoke.” And you are, sir... ?"The man's face lit.” That's it! My name. Introductions!" He laughed gently at his own folly.” I am Eber son of Eiresit, and this house, like the island, is called Speaking Stone, for if you walk to the cliff edge you will hear the waters flowing among the rocks below and it will sound like speech to you. Often I have stood thinking I understood, or nearly understood, a few words, a phrase. One day it muttered, 'All your wisdom will be mine....' And yet another time I heard, 'Oh, my sons, my daughter . . .' And then one day it said my name—clear as clear.

"You might listen yourself and see what you hear, for if a river speaks to you . . . Well, it is one of the voices of the world, like the wind or the moving sea." He paused, looking toward the open window where the breeze could be heard in the trees.” Did you meet the mapmaker?" he asked suddenly.” Did he give you a map for this section of the river?" The companions glanced at one another.” We came here only through our own folly," Tarn said, "attempting to travel the river by night." Eber gazed at Tarn a moment, then nodded.” Then come," he said.” Come up to my tower and I'll show you what has led me to live in such a remote place." The old man held up the candelabra and led them to another flight of stairs which wound its way up into the darkness. The companions looked at one another, eyebrows raised, and then the curious Fynnol fell in behind the old man—and then the others behind him. They entered a large, square room lit by candles. In the center stood a great table littered with papers and open books, writing implements, dividers and rulers. On shelves stood strange devices of brass and polished wood and glass. Bunches of dried plants and flowers dangled on cords from the ceiling, and on the walls hung charts covered with lines and curves and calculations. To one side, doors stood open onto a balcony.” Here I study the stars and listen to the river," the old man said.” I cultivate patience, for the river is not forthcoming and disdains the impetuous. It tests a man, waiting long years before revealing anything at all. Many have grown restless and abandoned their vigil before the river would offer up its secrets." The servant came in then, bearing a tray of glasses and flagons of ale, wine, and water. The old man led them out onto the balcony to roughly made chairs with worn cushions. The travelers settled themselves, wondering what strange thing their host would reveal next. Tarn saw Baore and Fynnol glance at each other oddly, as though to say, See what peculiar folk dwell beyond the Vale? The old man poured himself a cup of "the purest water that man has ever drunk." The moon lit the balcony, and, below, the river flowed swiftly among rocks, muttering distractedly.

"This was once the house of Gwyar. Do you know this name? Gwyar of Aiwa? He was said to be a sorcerer, though I cannot vouch for that. But he was a man of great learning, that is certain. As a young man I read several of his learned treatises—though they were difficult to procure even then and are nearly impossible to find now." Eber spoke as though they were not there, as though he were used to conversing with himself, justifying his life in this place.

"Gwyar was deeply learned in old lore, a student of the stars—their ways and influences. Healing was his special province, though he wrote about many things. He came here in his later years to chart the heavens—and in the end found himself listening to the river, trying to understand its speech." Eber son of Eiresit paused, listening intently. He raised a crooked hand, as though about to mark some sound of the water, but then let the hand fall.

"I came here because of my son, Llya, though it took me some time: Speaking Stone is not easily found." He looked down, his face suddenly very old and haggard.” I hoped that Gwyar would cure him, but I found Gwyar near to death, his knowledge lost, scattered like ragged clouds across the sky of his once-fine memory."Tarn listened intently, thinking the man's manner of speaking reminded him of old books.

"It is a sad tale, I fear. Sad, and for no one more than my son's poor mother. You see, I married her against the wishes and advice of many. Against her wishes, I fear, but her family gave her to me in marriage because I was a man of some position, and I thought her the fairest thing I had seen walk upon this world." He shook his head and began to pull a long strand of beard through his fingers, over and over.” She was a dutiful girl and tried, I think, to love me. I got her with child not long after our marriage, for though I was old, she was young and the moon smiled upon her—or so I thought." He looked up at the sky.” Our son was born beneath that moon, full and bright...." He put a bony hand to his forehead.” An auspicious beginning, I thought, until the moon began to grow dark. As my young wife cried from the pain of her labor the whole face of the moon turned slowly black and a shadow crept into the room. And then, at the very moment the child came into this uncertain world, a raven landed upon the sill of the open casement. Thrice it croaked before I drove it away... but too late." His face was hidden behind his hand now.” My bride did not survive the hour but bled out her short life upon our marriage bed. Died because of my desire and weakness . . . and love. I knew better—that is the hell of it." Eber drew a long breath, almost a sob.” So the young died, and the old lived on, as should never have been. But my son survived; as inauspicious a birth as I have ever known. One might expect such a child to be blind—the darkening of the moon—but this is not so. Llya has not the power of speech, nor can he hear—not the loudest report—but his sight is unblemished." Eber looked up at the young men around him.” So I came here to the house of Gwyar, who might have been a sorcerer, to seek the cure for my son's affliction, for certainly I brought it upon him, marrying his mother against the warnings of the stars." Tarn thought the old man's mouth quivered a little.” The old should leave the young to marry among themselves, for in them life quickens and grows while in the old it shrinks and shrivels away. It was a cursed thing I did and now I would make amends. Gwyar, it is said, cured many ailments and infirmities. I hope one day I will do the same." He gestured toward the river.” After all, if a river can speak, then cannot a child of man learn to do the same?" He looked at each of them in turn, as though they would have an answer to this question. It was then that Tarn noticed a small boy had crept to the door behind them. He lurked there, dressed in a beautifully made velvet suit—like a little lord. He stared out at them evenly. Eiber's gaze followed Tarn's and his sad face lit in a smile.” Ah, there you are, my treasure." Eiber beckoned, but the child stepped back behind the door so that only one eye could be seen. The old man looked at Tarn and raised his hands in a helpless gesture.

"It is the curse of living so far from my fellow men. Like Hannah, he is timid with strangers, for he's seen so few. Perhaps you realized that Hannah, too, is deaf? I have sympathy for any with this affliction and took her on. Unlike Llya she has the ability to produce sound, but how can one learn speech who cannot hear it? Instead, she goes about making an odd, mewling noise. I am not sure she is even aware of it." He shook his head.” I search on. I have some of the writings of Gwyar: his beginnings of charts of the heavens, his musings about the voice of the river, some reflections upon the nature of magic and its uses in healing. But nothing that tells me how to give a voice to silence...."He stopped then, looking at the child who hung back in the shadow. Tarn watched the old man's face soften as he gazed at his boy. What terrible guilt the old man suffered.

"But I have burdened you with my tale and have heard nothing of you. Did you say you were set upon by brigands? This is almost unheard of in these times in the wildlands."Tarn nodded.” We don't know why they attacked us, but it would seem they believe we are allies of a man we met briefly near our homeland. We think these same men killed him."The old man shook his head, the sadness returning.” This is unsettling, here, on my river. Will they come after you?""They didn't have boats but were on horseback. We fear they'll race us to the north bridge.""Ah, but you are on the river and it will flow swiftly now. It will carry you past the bridge before any man on horse can make the journey, for the road must skirt the hills going far east to a difficult pass. This man you say they murdered— who was he to them?""We don't know," Fynnol said.” He called himself Alaan. He was fair-spoken—a man of some learning, we think, and an inveterate traveler." The old man looked up.” I know such a man, also named Alaan. Did he travel with a whist? A small, dark bird?" They looked at the old man in surprise.” You knew him?" Fynnol said quickly.” Yes, yes, though I have not seen Alaan in several years." The old man sat up, suddenly troubled.” These men you say attacked you, they are dangerous men indeed if they caught Alaan out in the open. You're certain Alaan was killed... ?" "Yes, there's no doubt. These men caught him in the dark as he held Telanon Bridge so that we might escape." The old man massaged his temple gently, his eyes glistening a little.” I warned Alaan long ago. Warned him that he must change his ways ... 'Someone will catch you, one day,' I said, 'as fleet-footed as you are.' It is what befalls rogues, you see, but he did not listen." "How did you know Alaan?" Cynddl asked.” You called him a man of some learning, and indeed you were right—more than you know. Alaan came from a learned family. He found me here, as you have, and few who travel the river have managed that. He traveled as widely as any Fael—perhaps more widely. And now you say he is dead. Perhaps he seduced the daughter of the wrong nobleman. No good comes of it, you see." His head lifted quickly, and fiber stared off toward the river.” Did you hear? Almost a word, but more like a muttered sigh. It is always thus, never speaking clearly...." "But what manner of life did Alaan pursue?" Tam asked.” His presence in the north was a mystery to us. And it was not the first time he'd been there. A few years ago he came to the Vale and seemed to be looking for someone he thought might be hiding there." fiber found a loose thread in his robe and tugged at it gently with pale, bony fingers.” Who knows what Alaan did.