Chapter XII
“The First Minister”
You too?
Alirah came very close to saying the words out loud. At the last instant she stifled them, but then found she could say nothing. For a long moment she could only gape at Princess Caeryl in astonishment.
They were almost exactly the same height, but Caeryl’s body was softer and curvier than her own. In the sunlight Alirah could see that her long, dark hair had hints and flashes of red in it. Her eyes were a deep, sea gray, but her skin was almost porcelain fair. She looked as if she not only came from a far northern land, but also seldom ventured out of doors.
As Alirah stared at her in wonder, Caeryl’s smile brightened. She worked unconsciously to brush off her ruined dress and to tame her wildly disheveled hair. Now that the ruffians were gone, she was quickly regaining her composure. If the carnage caused her any lingering distress she did not show it, although she carefully avoided looking down at the slain.
Alirah could not stop looking at them. Even with her eyes fixed upon the Princess, she felt as if she could see the fallen men lurking at the edges of her sight. The smell of blood seemed to grow stronger every minute, as if a host of dreadful flowers were blooming in malice. Soon it became too much to bear. She swayed abruptly where she stood. The color must have left her face, for Caeryl’s smile vanished in concern.
“Are you alright?”
Alirah nodded automatically, then her stomach turned over. She turned away, staggered a few steps, then fell to her knees and threw up. Caeryl rushed to her side in alarm.
“Oh… Oh… What’s wrong?”
Alirah could not answer. At first she was too sick, and then she did not know what to say. As she wiped her mouth and tried to think of something, she heard a sudden thrashing noise in the undergrowth at the edge of the hollow. She looked up in new alarm. Darion whirled to face the sound with his sword ready and gleaming.
Kelorn leapt into the hollow. The young Druid looked pale and haggard, as if he too had not slept. His eyes were wild. He had drawn his sword and held it in a white-knuckled hand. He shouted as he came on, but his voice was ragged and only half coherent. Alirah only caught the word ‘her!’
For a split second she could have swooned in relief. But as he rushed forward like a madman, a fey light in his wide eyes, her relief turned to terror. In an instant she imagined the scene as he must have beheld it: her weaponless and on her knees, obviously in distress. Darion standing over her with blood dripping from his sword...
“No! Wait! Kelorn!...” she gasped. The words would hardly form in her raw throat. She lurched dizzily to her feet, but she was already too late.
Darion did not wait for Kelorn’s attack. He sprang forward with a cry of his own. Their swords met with a resounding clang, but such was the fury of Kelorn’s onslaught that their bodies collided an instant later. The two men staggered a few paces across the hollow, grappling with each other. Then each simultaneously thrust the other away and lashed out again with his sword.
Alirah felt like she was trapped in a nightmare. In her mind she saw Darion cutting down the ruffians again, one after the other like gruesome clockwork. In her eyes she did not see Kelorn the Druid, the trained warrior; she saw only a shy boy who liked maps, and who’d been scared to take her hand. Now with an icy stab to her heart she knew that boy had leapt to his death. She turned away and squeezed her eyes shut.
She heard Caeryl scream, and then she heard the sharp ring of steel upon steel. Every second she dreaded the sound would cease, but she kept on hearing it. Deep, snarling grunts of fury and exertion tore out of each man. At last Alirah made herself look up at them again. When she did her eyes widened in awe.
Kelorn and Darion fought like titans. They looked like two heroes of ancient legend returned to make war in a world now filled with lesser men. They parried, dodged, and lashed out again with amazing strength and speed. Their blades sparked where they met, one in pale glints and the other in deep red embers. In comparison, the brief combat between Darion and the ruffians now seemed pathetic.
For a few seconds it was Darion, and not the young Druid, who was in deadly peril. Kelorn drove him back across the hollow. Once his sword even slipped under Darion’s guard and sliced along the edge of his mailshirt with a dreadful, scraping noise. His blade rent the armor, but was turned aside before it reached Darion’s flesh.
Then, suddenly, Darion was on the offensive again. With powerful strokes he forced Kelorn backwards. Finally with one great slash he managed to knock Kelorn’s sword far to one side. Darion’s own blade was left out of position as well, but quick as thought he planted his legs and struck out with his free hand. He caught Kelorn in the chest, and the strength of his whole body was wound up in the blow. Kelorn gave a sickening gasp and reeled away. His foot turned on a stone in the grass and he fell hard onto his back.
Darion lunged forward for the kill. But for just a second a bit of space separated him from the young Druid, and Alirah wasted no time. She leapt in between them, screaming.
“Stop! Stop!”
She flung her arms and legs wide. Her eyes met Darion’s. For an instant she thought he would just hack her down and then kill Kelorn in his turn. But at the last moment Darion stumbled to a halt. His sword came within an inch of her shoulder before he wrenched it back up and away.
“Stop it! Stop fighting!” Alirah cried again. Her voice began to shake. Kelorn had started to rise behind her. She turned her body to stand in between the two men, an open hand outstretched toward each.
“Get out of there!” gasped Kelorn.
“I said stop it, you idiot!” shouted Alirah. “You aren’t enemies!”
“What’s going on?” asked Caeryl, shrilly. “Is that man your friend?”
“Yes!”
“I don’t care who he is!” cried Darion. He was flushed with fury and panting for breath. For the moment he held himself in check, but murder still gleamed in his eyes.
“He thought you were going to kill me,” said Alirah, desperately.
“He… wasn’t?” panted Kelorn.
“No!”
For a few seconds they all stood there. Caeryl’s face was white and her hands were clutched near her mouth. Both men still trembled with adrenaline; Alirah feared that either of them might still attack the other. Then slowly the fury on Kelorn’s face gave way to confusion and growing embarrassment. Darion’s anger diminished, but it did not disappear entirely. He looked at Alirah for a moment, then glared back at Kelorn.
“You have attacked a knight of Arandia and a defender of its crown,” he snarled. “By rights your life is forfeit!”
Kelorn blanched. Alirah turned herself again to stand protectively in front of him.
“It was a misunderstanding!”
“A knight of Arandia…?” stammered Kelorn. “I thought… I thought you were one of them! One of those mercenaries or brigands or whatever. There were lots of them in the woods!”
“That doesn’t matter,” began Darion.
“No, it does,” said Caeryl suddenly, cutting him off.
Darion blinked and looked at her in surprise. A red, splotchy blush crept onto Caeryl’s pale cheeks. As the other three watched she stepped slowly to Darion’s side and laid a hand lightly upon his arm.
“No Darion,” she said again, more softly. “If you had thought he was attacking me, what would you have done? And you are not wearing our colors or bearing our device. Please… There’s been enough bloodshed here.”
Darion hesitated for another moment, then lowered his weapon.
“As you wish, your Highness,” he murmured.
Caeryl let out a sigh of relief. Then abruptly, heedless of the blood still spattered upon his armor, she wrapped her hands about his waist and held on tight. Darion looked startled for a moment, then gently returned her embrace with his free hand.
“Your Highnes
s…” said Kelorn, weakly. He stared at Caeryl as if noticing her for the first time. Slowly he took in her ruined gown and her dark auburn hair. Suddenly his eyes flew wide, and he dropped to one knee.
“Forgive me, your Highness! I didn’t know.”
Caeryl drew away from Darion. She wiped her eyes and dropped a slight curtsey.
“It’s alright. There was no way for you to know, of course. But who are you? What are your names?” She turned to Alirah. “What may I call my heroine?”
Alirah glanced at Kelorn, but he did not even seem to have heard the question. His face had taken on a hue somewhere between green and white, and his hands trembled. Inspired by Caeryl, Alirah rushed to his side. She took his free hand in both of hers and squeezed it.
“It’s okay,” she whispered. Then turning back to Caeryl she said in a louder voice, “I am Alirah daughter of… Lihaya. This is Kelorn son of Kardir. He is a Druid of Illana and the Holy Isle. He is one of your loyal subjects, and he is a brave and honorable man.”
She had almost said daughter of Nuara automatically, but at the last moment she remembered that that name might be known in Arandia. Lihaya was her grandmother’s name.
“A Druid?” Caeryl looked shocked. “But I thought you were all… well… never mind. No wonder you fight so well. And you? Do I have the honor of calling you one of my subjects as well?”
“I… no,” said Alirah, wondering what the Princess had been going to say. “My people are the Kwi’Kiri. We live far from here.”
Caeryl cocked her head a little. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard of the Kwi’Kiri. Where do you live? What brings you to this miserable place?”
Darion stirred beside her. “Your Highness, we should not linger here. Other attackers may come. That village – I think they call it Bravny – can’t be more than five or six miles away. We’ll be safer and you’ll be more comfortable there.”
“Oh, of course…” said the Princess. For a few minutes relief and curiosity had caused her to forget her ordeal, but now it fell visibly back upon her like a shadow. Her gaze flickered down to the fallen ruffians and she shuddered.
“Assuming you’re all right, of course,” added Darion, quickly. He laid his hand gently on her shoulder.
“Oh… I’m fine. It’s just… Can we not rest a little first? It’s just been so… awful. And I’m so tired and thirsty. I don’t think I can walk any further right now.”
Darion withdrew his hand and bowed his head. “We can rest for a little while, but we should at least get away from here first. Don’t worry, though. I wasn’t planning on your having to walk.”
He raised his fingers to his lips and blew a sharp whistle. A moment later a big, black stallion trotted out of the undergrowth through which Darion had emerged earlier. The horse had a bearing as proud and stern as its master. Its saddle and harness were rich.
“If you’d care to mount behind me we can go find someplace safer to rest. These two can go on their way.”
Caeryl looked visibly relieved at the prospect of a ride, but then her eyes flew wide in horror. “Oh no! Go on their way? Of course not! If not for Alirah I’d still be tied up in that awful cave and… and… and I don’t even want to think about it. I will not see her turned away without thanks or reward! Certainly not in these wretched woods with who-know-how-many more cutthroats lurking about. They must come with us. You will, won’t you?”
She looked specifically at Alirah as she spoke the last words, and the Princess’ tone of voice caught her off guard. There was a deep and passionate entreaty in her words that went beyond ordinary gratitude.
“Um… sure,” stammered Alirah.
Darion frowned for a second, then relented. “As you wish, your Highness. But even Eilach cannot bear four.”
“We have horses,” murmured Kelorn. He still looked pale and sick. He glanced towards Darion and the Princess without meeting their eyes. Alirah started with excitement.
“Horses? You found Tryll?”
The young Druid nodded.
Darion sighed. He glowered at Kelorn, but his fury had run off into mere irritation. When he spoke his voice was brusque but not malicious. “Well, go and get them then, if they aren’t far. We’ll wait here. But be quick!”
Hastily Alirah retrieved her sword. She wiped it clean on wet ferns and then sheathed the blade. She felt a sense of relief as its weight pulled against her belt once more. Kelorn sheathed his own blade but then just stood there dumbly, as if he had no idea what to do next. She strode to his side, took his hand again, and tugged on it.
“Come on,” she murmured. “You have to lead the way. I don’t know where you came from!”
He started at her touch, then nodded. Slowly, hanging his head, he led her southwards out of the hollow. They wound their way through a thick stand of pines and black oak trees. By then the sun had climbed a little over the eastern horizon. The night’s fog had mostly given way to scudding clouds, and rich sunlight now slanted down through the trees. Kelorn stumbled along silently until Caeryl and Darion were well out of earshot behind them. Then suddenly he murmured in anguish.
“I would have been a murderer.”
“Hey,” said Alirah. She stopped walking and squeezed the hand she still held. He was pulled around to face her again, and she saw that his eyes were glistening with tears. Sympathy and her own lingering horror made her voice husky.
“You’re not a murderer! It would have been an accident, anyway, but nothing happened. Everyone’s okay. Now… I need you, right now, okay? I need you with me!”
He took a deep breath. For a moment he seemed to master himself, then a fresh wave of guilt crashed into him.
“Ah! You…” he exclaimed. “I didn’t even ask!”
Abruptly, to her astonishment and delight, he threw his arms around her and hugged her tight. But before she could even hug him back he gave a gasp of pain.
“Oh!” she cried, pulling away. “Are you hurt?”
He shook his head. “It’s nothing. Maybe a cracked rib.”
“That isn’t nothing!”
“Forget about me! Are you okay? What happened?”
She took a deep breath. “I’m fine. Just tired and… And I don’t know, sick. But it’s passing.”
As they walked onward she told him, briefly, of everything that had happened since Tryll had bolted. He listened at first with a look of sympathy and guilt, but his expression changed to wonder as she described sneaking into the cavern to rescue Caeryl.
“I wish I’d been with you,” he murmured, once she’d finished.
“Me too! But I’m glad you found me when you did. How did you find me, or us, anyway?”
He shook his head. “I just got lucky. I heard you screaming. Or maybe it was Caeryl. It didn’t sound like your voice, but I hardly expected to find another girl out here in the middle of nowhere.”
“Melyr didn’t run far,” he continued. “But by the time I got her under control and came back, you were long gone. I was able to follow Tryll’s hoof prints, and I found her just standing around a mile or two from here. But when I saw that you weren’t with her I… I thought some of those men must have grabbed you. I imagined you were a prisoner somewhere, like you say Caeryl was. And I didn’t know what to do. I panicked, I guess. I looked for you. I kept calling your name but nobody answered. The few other men I saw ran away from me. Then after a while I didn’t see anyone anymore. When it got dark I just sort of stopped and sat down where I was. I don’t remember if I slept. The next thing I knew I heard a girl screaming and I ran towards the sound. I wasn’t thinking clearly. I just saw you kneeling there looking hurt, and Darion with blood all over him and… and… And I’m just glad you’re all right.”
“I’m fine,” she said again, firmly. “And Darion’s fine too.”
Kelorn nodded but did not look convinced. With an effort Alirah managed to smile
at him.
“You were amazing, you know. When you were fighting him.”
Kelorn blushed and smiled for a moment, but then sighed. “Just amazing enough to get myself killed, if you hadn’t been there. Or to kill an innocent man. A hero!”
Alirah shook her head in exasperation. “You shouldn’t be so hard on yourself all the time! If he had been trying to kill me, do you think I’d have wanted you to walk up politely and say hello? And the way you fought… You didn’t see him kill those thugs. They knew what they were doing, I’m sure. It wasn’t the first time they’d fought and it wouldn’t have been the first time they’d killed, either. But it looked like it was. They looked like kids next to Darion. You didn’t! You fought like he did. I couldn’t believe how fast and strong and… and I don’t know, precise you both seemed. You’ve never showed me anything like that when we sparred together!”
A faint glow of pride finally lit up his face.
“No. I would have been afraid to hurt you.”
“Yeah!” Alirah agreed. “But how… I mean, are you really just that good? Is he?”
Kelorn shook his head. “I’ve been trained. The Druids are the Warriors of the Light, and there’s more to that than just swordsmanship. There are ways to strengthen the body and the mind, at least for a while. And there are ways to read an opponent’s movements and know ahead of time what he’s going to do. But most of that stuff is secret; I shouldn’t talk about it. As for Darion? I don’t know. I guess he just is that good. He’s famous for his skill with a blade. But I couldn’t believe how strong and fast he was…”
At that moment they came upon Tryll and Melyr, standing side by side beneath the spreading boughs of a vast oak tree. She may have imagined it, but Alirah thought that Tryll gazed at her with a guilty, mournful expression.
“It’s okay,” she murmured, hugging the horse’s neck. “Just don’t do it again!”
Aching and exhausted, they climbed up into their saddles and started back towards the hollow. Alirah felt a deep drowsiness settling over her. For a few minutes her mind wandered while her eyes saw nothing. Then a thought struck her and she spoke suddenly.
“You know, you might have told me there already was a princess of Arandia!”
He blinked. “I didn’t tell you that?”
“No!”
“I’m sorry,” he said, taken aback by her outburst. “I guess I never thought about it. Everyone knows back home, of course. And I certainly didn’t plan on meeting her. Does it matter, though?”
“Well… no,” said Alirah uncertainly. Somehow in her heart it did seem to matter, though she could not have said why. “It’s just… I guess I just thought of the Tyrant Kings as men. Wicked old men, maybe with wicked old queens. I never thought of them having kids. Are there any other princesses? Or any princes?”
“Princess Caeryl had two older brothers, Rechan and Rechior. They were twins. But they were slain four… no five years ago now. They were killed by trolls when they were out hunting in the mountains with only a few companions, or so it’s said. The whole hunting party was torn apart.”
“How awful!” exclaimed Alirah, appalled.
“Yeah,” Kelorn agreed. “And now Caeryl herself is the heir to the throne. But quiet now, we’re getting close again.”
As soon as Alirah and Kelorn returned to the hollow, Darion helped Caeryl to mount up sidesaddle behind him. The young man then led them away northwards, riding slowly. They wound their way across the slopes of the foothills, a little below the crease which Alirah had followed before. They rode in silence, and Alirah soon felt sleep closing in upon her again. Twice she dozed off where she sat, only to jerk awake with a gasp as she began to slide off of her saddle.
Fortunately they did not ride far. After perhaps a mile they came upon a fold among the falling slopes. There a tiny rivulet trickled between deep green banks overgrown with moss. In one place the waters gathered into a pool that was large enough to drink from. Darion dismounted beside the pool and helped Caeryl down after him.
“We can rest here for a few hours,” he said. “I want to get back to Bravny before nightfall, but we can eat and you three can sleep for a while. I’ll keep watch. As for food, I have a few biscuits with my gear, but if you two have anything better to eat or drink, I wouldn’t say no.”
Alirah and Kelorn shared out some of their food, and all four of them drank thirstily from the pool. After they’d eaten, Alirah lay down next to Kelorn on one side of the little stream. Darion and Caeryl settled down on the other. By then Alirah could have fallen asleep on a pile of rocks; the mossy bank upon which she lay felt like pure luxury. Less than a minute after she’d closed her eyes she was lost to a deep, dreamless slumber.
It seemed as if just a few moments had passed when she felt a hand gently shaking her awake again. Her eyelids fluttered blearily open. She expected Kelorn, and so she gave an involuntary start when she saw Darion gazing down at her instead.
“Everything’s okay,” he said quickly. “But it’s time to go. Wake your friend. I’d do it myself, but I’ve had enough of people trying to kill me for one day.”
He flashed a wry grin at her, then stood up and strode away. Still foggy with sleep, Alirah did not piece together what he’d said until he had gone. She made a face at the back of his head, then sat up and rubbed her eyes.
Hours had passed. A warm, sleepy afternoon had settled onto the forest. That day was not so stifling hot as the one before, but the air under the trees was humid and still. Bright shafts of light slanted down through the thick canopy overhead, illuminating little patches of foliage and leaving everything else in a green dusk. Insects buzzed and chirped all around them, and birds sang out from the boughs above.
Kelorn lay curled on one side beside her, twitching and murmuring faintly as if in unpleasant dreams. She woke him gently and, in spite of herself, very carefully. He sat up with a start, then grimaced and fell back again with a soft groan.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
“I’m great,” he muttered. “Don’t I sound like it?”
She gave him a wan smile. “Well, come on then. It’s time to go.”
After another quick meal they rode on. Darion led them north and east, back down towards the Great Road. The woods grew thicker as they descended. Soon they had to pick their way carefully through tall stands of hazel and shrubs. Caeryl and Darion did not speak to one another. Kelorn hung back as if determined to act as a rear-guard, or else just reluctant to get too close to Darion. At last Alirah grew bored. She nudged Tryll forward, so as to come up beside Caeryl.
“So, what happened yesterday?” she asked the Princess. “Before those ruffians grabbed you, I mean. How did you come to be out there all alone? Or to be down here in Verusa at all?”
Caeryl sighed, heavily. “It’s all my fault, really. Modrin warned me. He said that we shouldn’t get involved, but I wouldn’t listen. And he told me that I should stay in the carriage and I didn’t listen then either. And now look what’s happened.”
“What has happened?” Alirah persisted. “Who is Modrin?”
“Lord Modrin, I should say,” said Caeryl. “He is my father’s First Minister, and he is a very wise man. My father sent me here along with him, to oversee the collection of this year’s tribute. It’s for my education. I’ve got to learn what it means to be a queen, now that I’m going to be one someday.”
“We sailed down to Rovos a few days ago, and took charge of the gold and silver there. I don’t know why we didn’t just sail back; I guess my father wanted me to see more of the country. We were headed back north by the road yesterday, when all of a sudden a great smoke rose up ahead. Modrin ordered our convoy to halt. Some Verusan peasants came running down the road in a panic and started begging for help. I heard them saying that dozens of marauders had stormed into their village and set it on fire, and now they were stealing
everything they could!”
“I wanted to help. We had two hundred legionnaires with us! Why should we just sit back and let a bunch of poor farmers be killed and robbed? Lord Modrin knew better, though. He told me they were just Verusans, and that we shouldn’t get involved with their savagery. But I wouldn’t listen, so at last he gave in and sent a hundred of our men ahead to drive away the brigands. The rest of the convoy rolled in to the village afterwards, to help with the fires and the wounded and everything. Modrin told me to stay inside the carriage, and I did for a while. But we couldn’t see anything in there – my handmaidens and I, that is – and it was so hot yesterday and the air was all smoky. So we got out.”
“It couldn’t have been half an hour later when a lot more brigands attacked. There were a hundred of them at least. Our own men were pretty scattered around at that point, and they took us by surprise. All of a sudden there was fighting all around, and a whole group of thugs came charging right towards me. They must have guessed who I was. Darion and a couple of my Royal Guards stood beside me, but there was no way they could protect me against so many at once. So Darion threw me up onto that horse and sent it away at a gallop. That got me out of the fighting, but then I was all alone in the woods.”
“I didn’t know what to do. For a while I just stayed where I was. I hoped that help would come, but those four men found me instead. They were on foot, so I tried to ride away, but one of them cut my poor horse and she just went crazy. I was thrown off and they grabbed me. They tied me up and took me back to their camp and… and I don’t want to talk about it. You saw me there, anyhow. But it’s all my fault. All of it. I should have listened to Modrin.”
She fell silent. A hot blush of shame colored her pale checks. Alirah cast down her own eyes. She felt guilty but also confused; she did not see exactly how Caeryl had done anything wrong.
“Four men?” asked Darion after a moment.
“Yes, there were four,” murmured Caeryl. “Alirah knocked one of them out when she came to rescue me.”
Darion turned to look expectantly at Alirah. Reluctantly, and much more shyly than with Kelorn, she told again how she had followed the outlaws and stolen into their camp. The whole time she was speaking she felt his dark eyes boring into her, as if he were reading things in her heart and mind that she was not putting into her words. Yet by the time she finished he wore a look of surprise and admiration.
“You are very brave, Alirah of the Kwi’Kiri,” he said. “And very clever. Those must have been your tracks I followed. I’d thought they were Caeryl’s. Without them I would not have found you when I did.”
Suddenly he smiled and shook his head. A hint of a chuckle stole into his voice, as a father might recall some antic of his beloved but foolish daughter.
“But you had them there at your mercy!” he cried. “Why in the world didn’t you just kill them all when you had the chance?”
Alirah blinked, startled by the thought. She remembered the awful moment standing behind Scarface, unable to strike and unable any longer to hide or retreat. After he’d fallen, she had not even thought of hurting the others in their sleep. Thinking of doing so now filled her with horror, yet as Darion grinned at her she felt very silly.
“I… I don’t know,” she stammered at last.
“She doesn’t need a reason to not kill people,” exclaimed Kelorn, from where he rode behind them.
“Oh? Apparently you do,” said Darion, turning to glare back at the young Druid.
Kelorn immediately looked away, cowed; but Alirah flushed with anger.
“That was a misunderstanding!” she snapped. “It’s over and done with!”
“I know,” said Darion quickly. He sighed. “Forgive me. These last two days have been hard. But mercy shown to villains is not a virtue. Those men were not schoolboys carried away by a prank. They knew what they were about. I just wish I could have come to you sooner. I’d have done away with them before they caused so much distress. And I wouldn’t have left one behind with only a headache as punishment!”
By that time afternoon was passing into evening. The sun now rode just above the dark peaks of the Egarines. The woods had grown ever thicker as they’d ridden on, and now a wall of undergrowth loomed up before them. Darion slowed as he approached it, seeking a way through. At that moment Alirah saw flickers of movement through the screen of vegetation. Swords rang as they were drawn, and men’s voices rang out sharply.
“Halt!”
“Show yourselves!”
“In the name of Arandia and of the High King Archandir, who is it that approaches?”
At first Darion’s hand flew to the hilt of his black sword. But he relaxed when the third voice called out, youngest and proudest of the three.
“It is Sir Darion of Arandyr,” he called back in his resonant, commanding voice. “Princess Caeryl is with me, and two other companions.”
Darion did not stop as he spoke, but continued to forge his way through the undergrowth. Alirah and Kelorn followed nervously, close behind him. Alirah heard cries of relief and joy ahead, but for several seconds she could see nothing. She had to keep her head down as they plowed through yards of tangled willows and hawthorns.
Then all at once the forest came to an end. Alirah looked up, blinking, as she emerged onto the edge of an open field. Ahead of her, she saw Darion and Caeryl faced by five men on foot. They wore bright steel helms and shirts of mail under vibrant blue surcoats. Swords hung at their sides or gleamed ready in their hands, and each bore a heavy shield emblazoned with the golden dragon of Arandia upon its blue field.
Alirah gasped at the sight of them, recalling the phantoms in Caluran. For a second these men, especially the youngest, also looked ghostly and pale in her eyes. Then her sight cleared and she saw that they were neither phantoms nor visions but real young men, healthy and strong, and obviously relieved at their Princess’ return.
Darion spoke to the youngest of the soldiers. He was a few years younger than the Princess’ Champion: hardly any older than Alirah herself. His surcoat was trimmed with gold rather than silver, and was pinned at his shoulder with small broach like a golden sunburst. He had lost his helmet somewhere, and now sported a bruise and a shallow but livid scratch above his ear. He wore the injury like a medal, and his eyes shown with pride as he reported to Darion.
“All of the attackers are dead, Sir, or long gone. There’s been no fighting all this day. But the search parties had found no trace of the Princess either. We feared that you’d been made captive, your Highness.” The young man’s eyes had flickered shyly to Caeryl as he finished.
“I was,” said Caeryl, nodding to him. “But I have been rescued.”
“Thank the Goddess! Are you… all right?”
Caeryl blushed, but then with a scarcely perceptible effort managed to smile at the young soldier.
“I’m fine, Captain Aradin. And my captors have paid for their crimes, thanks to my indomitable champion. But I owe my freedom to this courageous young woman. She and her companion are my guests of honor, and they are to be treated as such. Tell your comrades and make sure they understand.”
Aradin brought a hand to his chest with a thump, then bowed low. The other four soldiers followed suit.
“Where is Lord Modrin?” asked Darion.
“Near the village, or what’s left of it anyway. I think he means for us to stay another night here.”
Darion nodded. “Very good. Have the remaining search parties recalled and keep up your watch. It looks like they’ve been beaten, but there’s nothing to say our attackers will not try their luck a second time.”
“There can’t be too many of them left, Sir,” said Aradin, proudly. “But even if they bring a thousand men, they won’t get by us again!”
“See that they don’t.”
Darion spurred his horse onward and rode past the sentries. Alirah rode after him, follow
ed more slowly by Kelorn. They picked their way across wide, tilled fields. Hardscrabble settlers had worked upon some natural break in the forest until they’d cleared an area a mile or so in diameter. Tall grass, shrubs, and encroaching saplings grew around the periphery of the clearing, but neat rows of corn and rye had been planted further in. Here and there ancient, disintegrating tree stumps rose amidst the crops.
In the center of the fields, where the Great North Road passed by, stood the remnants of a small village. Perhaps forty crude, thatch-roofed huts and a handful of larger buildings had clustered about the road. Now fewer than half of them remained standing. Almost none had been left undamaged by the fire. In many places heaps of blackened rubble were all that was left to indicate where a home had once stood. Thin gray tendrils of smoke and steam still wafted up here and there despite all the rain that had fallen.
Nearly two dozen still forms lay under white muslin shrouds on the outskirts of the village. Next to them a few thin, scared looking Verusan peasants were at work digging graves. Otherwise the town was utterly still and lifeless. Almost everyone who had dwelt there had vanished into the forest.
A large camp had been set up a hundred yards or so from the village. Two big, elegant carriages and a dozen or so other vehicles had been drawn up in a circle. Two large pavilions stood within the ring of vehicles, and the banner of Arandia had been raised in between them upon a newly cut pole. Dozens of small canvas tents had been set up in neat rows around the vehicles.
The camp was as bustling and full of life as the ruined village was silent. Soldiers passed to and fro upon various errands, or else sat around numerous campfires which had just been kindled for the evening. Many wore the bright, heavy armor of legionnaires, but a number of others wore the lighter and more muted gear of scouts or auxiliaries. Swords, shields, and spears stood beside the resting men in neat stacks, ready to be seized at moment’s notice.
At the nearer edge of the Arandians’ encampment stood three older men who were not soldiers. They wore dark garments of soft, luxurious cloth, trimmed with golden threads. The tallest and proudest of the three bore a staff of richly carved ebony. Two particularly brutish looking soldiers hovered next to him like bodyguards. Though he scarcely raised his voice, his words rang with power and command. The soldiers leapt to obey him. Darion rode straight toward the man, so Alirah guessed that he must be Lord Modrin.
As they drew near the encampment, and the soldiers there saw their Princess returning, cries of surprise and joy rang out. Modrin looked up sharply. His gaze fell upon Darion and the Princess, then leapt to Kelorn and lastly to Alirah. For an instant he looked surprised, then he smiled faintly and strode to meet them. His bodyguards and companions followed him, along with a great many others who had stood near.
Darion swung down from his saddle, then lifted Caeryl down after him. Alirah and Kelorn dismounted as well. As she faced Modrin, Caeryl stood with her head down and a rosy blush coloring her cheeks. To Alirah she looked much more like a wayward student being taken to task than a princess standing before her own subjects.
“I am overjoyed to see you returned to us, your Highness,” said Modrin. “Safe and sound, I hope?”
“I’m fine,” murmured Caeryl.
“Wonderful! Our prayers have been answered.”
Alirah saw little warmth in Modrin’s smile and, despite his words, heard little relief in his voice. She had a feeling that if Darion had carried a corpse out of the forest, Modrin’s reaction would have been little different. She felt an immediate dislike for the man.
The First Minister of Arandia was past his sixtieth year. He still looked hale and strong, but he was lean almost to the point of looking malnourished. His silvery hair had begun to fade towards white. His face was set in hard lines of care and scorn. His bright eyes glittered intently no matter what they gazed upon, as if they strove to penetrate and profit from the secrets of all things. For a moment he stood gazing down at Caeryl as if silently interrogating her, though the smile never left his face. Finally he turned to Darion.
“I presume we have you to thank, again, for our dear Princess’ safe return?”
Darion hesitated, glancing at Caeryl.
“No,” said the Princess softly, looking up. “Or at least, it wasn’t only him.”
Modrin arched an eyebrow in surprise. “Indeed?”
“It’s true.” Caeryl raised her voice a little so as to speak to the gathering crowd as much as to Modrin directly. At first her voice wavered, but as she continued it grew stronger. “I was taken prisoner. But this girl came to my aid. All alone, and at great peril to herself, she rescued me from the clutches of those thugs. She stood up to four of them all by herself! Darion had to save us in the end, but he would never have found me if it had not been for her. I owe her my freedom, and maybe my life.”
At once everyone who stood within earshot turned to look at Alirah. Modrin’s gaze fell upon her with particular intensity, and she could not help but shrink under his stare. She felt as if she were being appraised and found wanting. She was suddenly very conscious of her careworn, mud-spattered clothes, and of the fact that she needed a bath. But a few good natured cheers that rang out among the crowd enheartened her. After a moment she managed to smile. She dropped a smooth curtsey to the crowd, and then rose and stared right back into Modrin’s eyes.
“Hello,” she said.
Modrin nodded his head slightly and spoke in a frosty voice.
“Hello to you, my Dear. Who is it that I have the pleasure of speaking with?”
“This is Alirah, daughter of Lihaya, of the Kwi’Kiri people,” said Caeryl proudly, before Alirah could answer. “Alirah, this is Lord Modrin, son of Moradin, who is First Minister to my father.”
Modrin inclined his head again, but his voice grew no warmer. “If you have helped to rescue our dear Princess, than I am grateful of course. You shall have high honor and a suitable reward. But who are you, Alirah? How do you come to be in this wretched, backwater wood, armed, and with an armed companion? Who are you, boy?”
He spoke last to Kelorn, who had hung a pace or two back from Alirah and looked dreadfully anxious.
“I am Kelorn, son of Lord Kardir of Dunholt,” said the young man, shakily. “I am a citizen of Arandia and a Druid in the service of Illana’s Light.”
“A Druid?” said Modrin softly. His expression darkened with suspicion. “You are brave to declare it to me openly. What brings you to this place? What are you doing here?”
“I… I mean, we’re…”
Kelorn stammered under the First Minister’s sudden hostility. Alirah flushed indignantly on his behalf.
“He is brave,” she exclaimed. “And not that it’s any business of yours, but he is escorting me to Illmaryn. I have the Sight. It troubles me, and I hope to learn to control it from the priestesses there. We were coming up the road when we saw the smoke and stumbled into the fight you all were having. My horse got spooked in the thunderstorm and she bolted. Luckily she carried me right to the spot where those brutes were grabbing your Princess. I followed them and I rescued her, as she said. Which nearly got me cut up or killed, by the way. Now is that enough? Is there anything else you’d like to know?”
There was a moment of dreadful silence. Modrin glared at her, and Alirah braced herself to be yelled at in reply. Then from the crowd she heard a smattering of astonished, approving hoots and laughter. The sounds were muted, hidden behind hands or quickly raised shields, but Modrin heard them. He hesitated for a moment, then all at once the anger vanished from his expression. He actually grinned wryly and nodded in token of assent, though his eyes still glittered.
“I am sorry,” said the First Minister. “You must forgive my suspicions after so dark a day. A number of our young men will never return home now, and someone must be harsh so that our dear Princess may be gentle.”
At that moment two young women emerged
from one of the big pavilions and came rushing to Caeryl’s side. They wore plain but finely woven dresses of a pale gray color, which Alirah took to be a kind of servant’s livery. She supposed they must be Caeryl’s handmaidens. One was a girl a year or two younger than Alirah herself, plump and fair, with a round face now reddened by tears. The other was a few years older and had a darker, olive complexion. The younger girl gave a cry of relief and flung her arms around Caeryl. The Princess hugged her back.
“I’m fine, Pala,” she murmured, embarrassed.
“Come your Highness,” said the older handmaiden. “Let’s get you cleaned up. If… I mean, if you’re done here, Milord?”
She added the last question with a glance first at the Princess, then at Modrin. Caeryl also looked up as though asking to be excused. Modrin stared down at her gravely for a moment, then gave a brief nod of his head.
“Go. Rest, eat, and make yourself presentable again. We will put aside your lessons for today. But for tomorrow, try to think of what you can learn from this miserable affair, so that we do not have to repeat it.”
Caeryl blanched, then stammered in obvious confusion.
“Learn from…?”
Modrin sighed heavily. “Fourteen of your loyal soldiers are dead. Many others are wounded, and these Verusan peasants you thought to aid have run off without a word of thanks. For all we know they were complicit in the attack. Kindness comes at a price, your Highness. See to it that in the future you bestow it only where it’s deserved.”
Caeryl’s cheeks burned and she hung her head. After a moment she nodded. Pala and the older handmaiden began to usher her away with comforting whispers. Caeryl let herself be moved along, looking grateful to be making her escape. She cast a final, lingering look straight at Alirah before she vanished into her big pavilion.
As soon as the Princess was out of sight the crowd began quickly to disburse. Soldiers hastened away as if each was determined not to be the last in the presence of the First Minister. Modrin looked again at Alirah and Kelorn, and spoke to them in turn.
“You have done us a great service, Alirah of the Kwi’Kiri. And it seems her Highness has taken a fancy to you. Very good. For such things some impertinence may be forgiven. But mind that tongue of yours.”
“And you, Druid. I know not what errand has brought you to this place, but I know too well what kind of schemes and plots the Priestesses of Illana hatch upon their Isle. Ever more openly do they seek to undermine his Majesty’s rule and sow discontent among our people! If your intentions are honorable, if you are truly here only to protect a young lady on her road, then you have nothing to fear from me. But if not, beware! I deal harshly with traitors, and I am exceptionally good at finding them out.”
With that the First Minister turned on his heel and strode away. His councilors and his bodyguards followed after him. Darion lingered for a moment, looking first at Kelorn and then at Alirah. His expression was grave, but there was a clear hint of amusement in his dark eyes.
“You will stay with us tonight as her Highness’ guests,” he declared. “Just try to keep out of the way, and keep out of trouble. Tomorrow Princess Caeryl will send for you again, if it pleases her. If not you may go where you will.”
Saying this he gave a formal bow. Then he also departed, leading Eilach by the reins. Alirah was left standing alone with Kelorn, furious and afraid.