The Sword Of Erren-dar (Book 2) (39 page)

 Bethro discovered the Curtain of Adamant the next day by
the simple expedient of walking into it. They already knew that it was an invisible
barrier, impenetrable to man or beast, but The Keeper of Antiquities, unable to
resist the opportunity to instruct, was explaining at tedious length the
history of the curtain. How it had taken the power of three sages to raise it
to protect the infant kingdom from the Turog. How the old sage, Relisar, had
managed to create a tear in the curtain which had allowed Erren-dar and his
companions into the hidden land. He went over again, largely ignored by his
audience, how the existence of Adamant had been concealed from the rest of
humanity for centuries until its presence was exposed by Relisar.

 They had left the lofty mountains behind them now and were
walking amongst some low foothills interspersed with pleasant sunny valleys,
shaded here and there by huge oaks of great antiquity, and laced by busy
streams, icy cold from the heights.

 Bethro, feeling much more confident in such tranquil
surroundings, was out in front, delivering his lecture over his shoulder, when
suddenly his words were cut short. He recoiled violently, staggered backwards,
flapping his arms wildly like a mad crow, and failing to keep his balance, sat
down abruptly, his ample posterior hitting the ground with a resounding thump.
They all stared in astonishment, but their attention was soon diverted by the
reaction of one of their number.

 A strange hooting, barking noise began to issue from Gorm.
His face contorted, his pointed teeth bared, and he rocked back and forth,
gripping his knees for support. The companions began to smile, as they realised
that the Turog was finding Bethro’s discomfiture irresistibly funny. They had
never seen him laugh before, and their grins began to widen, as the strange
barking noise increased in volume.  Gorm, quite overcome, sank down on the
earth, helpless with mirth.

 “How clever of you, Bethro, to find the curtain” said Iska
dulcetly, “I’m never quite sure of its position.”

 “How do we get through?” Vesarion asked.

 But Iska only responded with an annoyingly enigmatic smile.
“You’ll see.”

 She led them along the edge of the curtain, occasionally
striking the invisible wall with a stick to avoid making Bethro’s mistake. At
last they arrived at a group of willows through which the curtain seemed to pass.
One of the trees, clearly the matriarch, more wizened and ancient than its
surrounding offspring, had reached such an advanced age that the gnarled and
twisted trunk had split in the middle, creating a teardrop-shaped aperture.

 “Now watch this,” said Iska. She picked up a small twig and
tossed it to one side of the tree. It flew through the air in an arc, then
suddenly rebounded in mid-air and bounced back towards them.

 “Now,” she said again, like a conjuror demonstrating a
magic trick, “watch
this
.”

Lifting a pebble, she cast it towards the gap in the tree. It
sailed through it as easily as threading a needle.

 “How did you find this?” Eimer asked, clearly impressed.

 “I saw a fox go through it. A clever old vixen had her cubs
safely on the inside of the curtain but preferred to hunt outside it, where
game is more plentiful. I have to warn you, it’s going to be a bit of a squeeze
for some of us,” she cautioned, trying not to look too pointedly at Bethro.

 Divesting herself of her pack, Iska walked up to the narrow
opening and wriggled through. Then she turned to face her companions and
spreading her arms wide, bowed theatrically to them.

 “Welcome, my friends, to the Kingdom of Adamant.”

 The opening was so small that the packs had to be handed
through one by one, and both Vesarion, who was tall, and Bethro, who was round,
had great difficulty squeezing through. Indeed, Bethro, predictably, got stuck
and had to be hauled through with much popping of buttons.

 When they were all through, Iska said: “These are fairly
deserted regions, so we may travel openly for the rest of today, but from then
on, we will be entering more populated areas with farms and villages and must
travel by night. I know this region well from my many expeditions and I know
exactly where the villages are, but there is always a chance of encountering
someone unexpectedly, so we must hide during the day and travel cross-country
by night until we reach the city.”

 The weather obliged them by providing clear skies for a 
lazily waxing moon to light their way. The nights were mild and balmy, the air
scented by summer smells of sun-warmed grasses and new-mown hay. The haloed
moon shed a delicate silver gilding over a land that was a model of good husbandry.
It lit fields of wheat and barley, rustling softly in the breeze, and apple
orchards, where the gnarled trees cast tangled shadows. Only the livestock in
the fields at night saw the passage of five dark and silent shadows. The cattle
watched them with sleepy disinterest, but the sheep scattered in alarm.
Sometimes they had to pass close to villages, with their many tiny windows
under the thatch glowing comfortingly in the darkness.

 These encounters were the most difficult for Bethro, for
they made him homesick for his cosy study in Addania. In his mind he saw the
fire burning brightly in the hearth and a glass of the finest mead in his hand,
as he contentedly toasted his toes. Once they happened to pass an inn, its
brightly lit windows standing open to the velvety night, and carried to them with
poignant clarity on the still air, was the sound of merriment - the clinking of
tankards, snatches of song and laughter. Somehow, such signs of normality made
them all feel like outcasts, ghosts at the feast.

 By the end of each night’s journey, just as the first few
golden threads of sunrise began to set the sky a-glow and the dew was heavy on
the grass, they would seek somewhere to conceal themselves for the day. Usually
they would make use of one of the dense little copses of trees with which the
countryside was dotted, but occasionally they would find a dilapidated barn,
clearly seldom used. Vesarion, ever cautious, insisted that when they slept
during the day, someone must always be on guard. However, his prudence seemed
misplaced, for their presence appeared to go undetected. Apart from the fact that
whenever they passed close to a village or farm, the dogs responded by barking
hysterically as they caught the unfamiliar scent of Turog, no one else seemed
to be aware of their existence.

 From their hiding places during the hours of daylight, they
watched normal life carrying on around them. They observed some farmworkers
scything a hayfield; children playing on a swing suspended from an apple tree,
and a tranquil line of cows lumbering their way along a rutted lane to be
milked, just as the purple evening shadows fell. Vesarion, in particular, well
used to managing his estates and therefore most appreciative of all he saw,
found it ever harder to believe that such seemingly idyllic surroundings could
be the seat of evil. The whole idea that the sword had been brought here to
fulfil some wicked scheme, grew more and more preposterous in his mind.
However, as was his habit, he kept his thoughts to himself. Inwardly he battled
both his renewed doubts about the wisdom of their course of action, and the growing
certainty that he had irretrievably let slip from his hand all that was
becoming most dear to him.

 He would have been disconcerted to know that his thoughts
were not so well hidden as he supposed, for his travelling companions were
beginning to get to know the reclusive man behind the façade just a little too
well for comfort.

 On the day before they were due to arrive in the city, they
had rested during the hot summer’s day within the pleasant shade of a dense
stand of trees. As they drew closer to the capital, it became more and more
difficult to avoid contact with people and they had suffered a close shave the
night before when a courting couple had descended on the barn in which they had
been hiding. Fortunately they were too wrapped up in each other to notice the
silent shadows that slipped out the back into the dusk. But the encounter had
unsettled them, making those on guard take their duties more seriously.
Consequently, when Sareth came to relieve Iska in the late afternoon, as the
shadows fell in long stripes between pools of cinnamon light, she found her
alert, looking out across the fields with dutiful attention.

 Sareth, speaking softly so as not to awake their sleeping
companions, said: “Vesarion would be very proud of you, Iska – alert and wide
awake. I think he’d be less pleased with me. I can hardly keep my eyes open. I
can’t get used to this topsy-turvy existence of being awake at night and asleep
during the day.”

 Iska glanced towards the subject of their conversation, who
appeared to have no such difficulty himself.

 “He has a lot on his mind, I think. I get the impression
that he is assailed with doubts about our mission again. I caught him giving me
a couple of  is-she-to-be-trusted looks, which I haven’t seen for a while.
Also, from something he said to me a few days ago, I know he is searching in
his mind for answers to the question of why you agreed to marry him in the
first place. Unfortunately, at the moment, he is coming up with every answer
but the correct one. Still, it’s an encouraging sign.”

 “What did he say?”

 “He thinks you agreed to the betrothal to get away from
Enrick, but he’s clearly not satisfied with that answer.”

 Sareth gave a troubled sigh. “Why
did
I agree to
that betrothal? I sometimes don’t know myself any more. What should I have done,
Iska? Marry the King of Serendar, as Enrick originally wanted, and lose hope for
ever? Or marry someone I loved, and have the pain of seeing him every day,
knowing that he felt nothing for me? What would you have done?”

 Iska’s amber eyes were sombre, her heart sore for Sareth.
“I would have done exactly as you did, hoping that something would come of it –
but it was a terrible risk to take.”

 “Yes. And I took it and lost.” Sareth walked past her friend
and stood looking out across the fields, her gaze distant. “Do you know
something, Iska? I heard Bethro say today that he is homesick. He longs to be
back in his cosy room in Addania, and I realised that perhaps I alone of our
party, do not want to return. What is there for me if I go back? Vesarion will
return to being Lord of Westrin. Bethro will have his library and I suppose
even Eimer will pick up where he left off with hunting and barmaids, but what
is there for me? Nothing. Enrick told me that if I didn’t marry Vesarion, he
would throw me out on the street. With anyone else I would say it was a bluff, but
with him I am not so sure. Only father can stop him, but he stands up to him
less and less with each passing day. I just don’t know what sort of future
awaits me when I go back.”

 “At least you still
have
a home,” retorted Iska
bleakly. “Do you not realise that if we achieve what we set out achieve, it is
unlikely that I can stay here?”

 “Your absence will have been noticed?”

 “Perhaps. Perhaps not. I have a room over the stables in
the palace that I can reach unobserved by climbing a tree, so no one sees me
come and go, even when I
am
there - and certainly no one will have been
looking for me. My brothers have spent years trying to pretend that I don’t
exist and have almost perfected the art. So maybe I’ll be lucky and no one will
be aware that I disappeared for a very long time.”

 Iska was relieved when Sareth appeared to accept what she
said and did  not question her further, but the next day, she was not so
fortunate with Vesarion.

 They had travelled through the night and stopped just as
dawn was breaking and the first birdsong was taking to the air. They had halted
at the edge of a thicket and Iska was in the middle of explaining that the city
was just out of sight behind a wooded ridge, when Vesarion cut in, asking her
how she proposed to get them past the guards.

 “We’ll go in with the early morning traffic,” she replied.
“We’ll drop Gorm off in the eastern wood, then join the queue that forms every
morning as produce is brought in from the surrounding countryside. In all the
fuss and chaos, we should be able to slip through unnoticed, especially if we
split into two groups – we’ll be less conspicuous that way. If we get
separated, take the street to the right, immediately past the gate and follow
it until you reach a square with a fountain. We’ll meet up there.”

 But it appeared that her interrogator was not satisfied.
“Surely, Iska, you will be recognised? I know that your father has ignored you
ever since he discovered that you do not possess the gift, but you are still
his daughter and a Royal Princess. The guards will have been trained to
recognise you, to pay the proper respect due to your rank.”

 Iska, to her annoyance, felt herself begin to blush. “Don’t
worry about that,” she said, making a fair attempt at nonchalance. “They won’t
know me.”

 But if she was beginning to know Vesarion, the reverse was
also true. He remained looking at her levelly, clearly not at all convinced.

 “Iska,” he said quietly. “I think the time for games is
over. The truth, if you please.”

 She shrugged, about to prevaricate, but unfortunately met
his glance and found his eyes so penetrating that she was forced to drop her
gaze to the ground.

 “I….I….”

 “Why will they not know you?” he persisted.

 Iska finally looked up, her cheeks burning, only too aware
that the attention of all her companions was riveted to her.

 “I told you that my mother was a noblewoman whom the King
married long after his first wife had died without giving him a daughter. I
also told you that she died when I was born.” She drew a difficult breath.
“Well, only some of that is true. The King is indeed my father and my mother
died when I was born but….but he never married her. She was a chambermaid in
the palace who caught his fancy. Their brief affair resulted in me. My father
would have denied that I was his at all, were it not for one thing – he was
desperate for a daughter with the gift, in order  to cement his power. So he
acknowledged that I was his, in the hope that I could give him what he wanted,
but when I failed the test, he had no further use for me. He didn’t want the
people to know about me. I was an embarrassment to be repudiated, forgotten as
if I never existed. My brothers, always deeply ashamed of me, were only too
happy to concur. I have a room in the servants’ quarters and am allowed to get
food from the palace kitchens – that is all. That is the extent of my contact
with my loving family. Callis is all I have now. As a child I felt so ignored
that, as I told you, it became a game with me to see just how invisible I could
make myself.”