The Shadow Roads

Forty-five

Elise held her blade in the water and pointed. The paddlersturned the boat toward the darkened shore. Tam had no idea where they were. Itseemed like they’d been driving the boat forward for half the night, but withAlaan aboard, that effort could have taken them anywhere. They might not evenbe in the land between the mountains. A wash of gray seeped up from the easternhorizon, staining the sky. Along the near shore, however, night lingered beneaththe trees. A distant din reached them over the waters, and the smell of smokeclung to the air.

“What is that sound?” Fynnol whispered.

“Battle …” A’brgail answered.

“Hafydd is here,” Elise said, her voice empty and lifeless.She took her blade, dripping, from the water, and rose to her feet, staringoff at the shore, not fearfully, but not with hope either.

Alaan pulled his sword from its scabbard and glanced back atthe others. Lifting his paddle inboard, Tam flexed his back and shoulders,trying to work out the knots. The boat came gliding up to the bank, and Elisestepped ashore, Alaan right behind her.

“Baore-please,” Elise said. “Will you guard these children?I will not fail Eber twice.”

Baore did not meet her gaze. “There is a battle, my lady.You will need me.”

“I can’t leave the children unprotected. Take them out intothe river if you must. Please, Baore …?”

“As you wish,” he replied softly.

To the others she said. “Come, any who will. Hafydd is here,and despite brave hearts there are none on the field who can stand against him.”

A narrow band of trees grew at the end of the valley, alongthe bank of the Wynnd. There it was dark, the damp voice of the river clear andsoft, the ground beneath their feet redolent with decay.

Over the voice of the river, the tumult of battle could beheard. Tam tightened his grip on his sword. In his other hand he held a bow,though only a precious few arrows remained.

Emerging from the trees they saw chaos, riders and men onfoot locked in ferocious battle. Tam could see others retreating into thetrees, the valley was afire, and men, their clothes burning, came running outof the smoke, screaming.

Horses materialized out of the cloud, blind with fear. Someran right at them, only turning away at the last second. There in the dust andsmoke, barely lit by the still-distant dawn, stood a warrior with a flamingsword.

“You will leave Hafydd to Alaan and me,” Elise said,glancing once at Tam, though speaking to all. “Heroism would be foolish here.If we can bring Hafydd down, his army will break and run.”

“We’ll try to keep back his guards,” Cynddl said.

As they all set off across the field, Elise reached out andgrasped Tam’s arm. “I wish I could have left you safe at the boat,” she whispered.“You have risked enough in this war.”

“No more than many others,” Tam said. Their fingers foundeach other and clasped for a second, then they were running, running against atide of fleeing men, some afire. Hafydd was winning.

Alaan found Tam in the smoke, and shouted, “The men of Innesand the Renne are in flight. They are the enemies of Hafydd. The dark surcoatsare the Wills, and Hafydd’s guards.” He slapped Tam once on the shoulder andwas gone, following Elise into the smoke.

Tam sheathed his sword and drew an arrow. In the smoke andfalse dawn it was hard to tell friend from foe, but he let fly at a riderclothed in dark and watched him fall, the Fael bow proving stronger than mailat short distance.

He tried to stay close to Fynnol and Cynddl, as they all followedElise into the smoke. They were forced to skirt areas of burning grass, theflames in places reaching higher than their heads. Men appeared out of theclouds, some fighting, others looking for their enemies. Tam fired at any darksurcoats he saw, but the smoke billowed and whirled, revealing men for aninstant, then hiding them again a second later. He feared some arrows went intothe ground.

A flame appeared in the smoke, then a man wielding it.

“Hafydd!” Alaan shouted to Elise, and pointed with hissword. Heat seemed to emanate from the knight-it seared his face and stung hiseyes, forcing him back, looking about madly. Horsemen rode out of the smoke andTam would have been cut in two by one, but Alaan took the man from his saddlein one stroke. Elise had another, and Cynddl put an arrow in a third, and therest were gone, devoured by the clouds.

Hafydd saw Elise and came striding toward her, the wave ofheat driving Tam and the others back.

“Fall back to the stream!” Alaan ordered, andTam began a retreatto where he hoped the creek lay. There was no sound of water to be heard overthe din of battle, the cries of men, and the searing crackle of fire.

Alaan and Elise raised their swords and, two-handed, drovethe points into the ground. Tam was thrown onto his back as the ground beneathhim heaved, and a deep, rending sound rolled across the valley. He tried to getup but was thrown to his knees. A dark, jagged rift snaked along the ground,which then parted, tearing open like a wound. Alaan and Elise both scrambled totheir feet, separated by the opening ground.

Two dozen feet away, Hafydd tumbled into the fissure. Eliseand Alaan drove their swords into the ground again, this time to either sideof the crack. Tam braced himself and felt the earth shudder, grinding as itmoved. The crevice stuttered closed, leaving an ugly, dark scar across theground.

The tremors stopped, and Tam could see Alaan and Elise, bothleaning on the pommels of their swords, heads hanging down as they gasped forbreath. Alaan forced his head up, spotted Tam and tried to smile. The sound ofbattle had ceased, and a strange silence fell over the valley.

“He is dead!” a voice cried in the smoke. “The sorcerer isdead!”

Alaan staggered to his feet, but was thrown back as theground exploded, and a column of fire erupted out of the earth. Cynddl draggedTam up. His eyes were filled with dirt, and he wiped at them with one hand, hisbow still tightly grasped in the other. A figure emerged from the fire: Hafydd, his sword still in flame.

Tam thought Alaan and Elise looked at each other, not somuch in surprise but as though Hafydd’s return was inevitable, somehow. Tam rememberedthat Sianon had given her life to destroy Caibre, and he heard himself whisper,“Not this day.”

Tam nocked an arrow, shouting to Cynddl. “Elise will die tokill him if we can’t help.”

Tam tried to sight Hafydd along the shaft, but he was stillhalf-blind from the explosion. He let the arrow fly, not sure if it was evenclose to the mark. Smoke and flame surrounded Hafydd, as though he himself wereafire, and he was never wholly in view. Tam rubbed at his eyes, backing away asHafydd came toward them. Even Alaan and Elise were retreating, half-blind.

Cynddl and Fynnol both let arrows fly at Hafydd.

“I swear they burn to ash before they reach him,” Fynnolcried.

Tam stepped back, almost falling into the stream. He feltthe cool water run down his boot.

“Elise!” he shouted. “The stream!”

She turned and ran toward Tam, leaving Alaan. Tam could seethe traveler stop retreating. He took a fighting stance and raised his sword.Alaan,Tam knew, was far stronger than he appeared and full of deceptions andguile, but Hafydd appeared so much more powerful than he, billowing flame ashe stalked the traveler.

“You cannot stand against us both,” Alaan cried out. “Betterto lay down your sword and go into the river than through the black gate.”

“The gate will not open for me,” Hafydd shouted. He raisedhis flaming sword and came toward Alaan, who did not recoil.

Elise stumbled down into the river, thrusting her blade intothe water. Tam could hear her mumbling rapidly. In the smoke, Tam saw Hafyddaim a great stroke at Alaan, and though the traveler looked as though he wouldstand and meet it with his own blade, he dodged aside at the last second andlet Hafydd drive his sword into the ground.

Alaan swung at him, his blade arcing into the knight’s side.Hafydd was knocked down but rolled to his feet, nimble and apparentlyunharmed, his mail having turned the stroke.

Tam soaked an arrow in the stream and let it fly, watchingit bury itself in Hafydd’s shoulder. The knight staggered a step, then threwflame at Alaan, and at Tam. The Valeman leapt aside, stumbling into the water,trying to keep his bowstring dry. He lunged up, and reached for another arrow,but they were gone-spent.

“Fynnol!” he cried. “Cynddl?” He must have more arrows, buthis companions were not in sight. Smoke seared his lungs so that a spasm ofcoughing gripped him. He could see only Alaan, locked in combat with Hafydd.The wander’s cloak caught fire, but he tore it off with one hand and threw itaside. It hardly seemed to have touched the ground before it rose, as thoughcaught by a wind, and flew at Hafydd’s face.

Alaan ducked low and cut at Hafydd’s leg, catching him justbelow the knee. Hafydd staggered but did not fall, and the cloak was thrownaside. It flared for a second, then whirled away.

“I know all your feints, Brother,” Hafydd taunted. “Have younothing new to show me?”

A broad snake of water slithered out of the river, runningankle deep through the blackened grass. It reached Hafydd in a heartbeat andsurged up his leg, smothering flame as it went. The knight looked down insurprise, as the tendril of water circled his waist, then ran up his arm andextinguished the flaming sword.

“Only the inside of a grave, Brother,” Alaan said, and wadedin with his sword, driving the limping Hafydd back. The knight had only onegood arm, from Tam’s arrow, and Alaan hewed at him two-handed, the force of hisblows almost driving the blade from Hafydd’s hands.

Elise leapt from the stream, running toward the two men. Sheraised her sword, and Tam thought that certainly Hafydd would fall now.

As Elise was about to strike a blow, Hafydd spun in acircle, fire spraying from his blade. He threw a circle of flame around thethree of them, and Tam was sure he heard the sorcerer shout in triumph. Theflames leapt up, and smoke billowed out, driving Tam down onto his haunches onthe stream’s far shore. He realized that the battle was still being fought,riders clashing furiously, knots of men hewing at each other, screaming in rageand pain. It all seemed so distant.

Elise was blinded by fire and smoke, holding up an arm to protecther face from the heat. Hafydd was lost in the fire, as was Alaan. She had beenhere before … long ago.

She remembered.

The walls had been thrown down, gates torn from theirhinges. He had dammed up the river … with a spell, until the streambed itself ran dry, and his armies came swarming over what had once been an impenetrablemoat-her great defense. Armies fell upon each other and were consumed infire and magic.

The memories came back to her, drifting back.

Smoke and flame everywhere, stone burning, exploding fromheat. And he had pursued her up into the ruin of a tower, where there was noescape but into the air. Sianon had backed up the broken stair, Caibre inpursuit, hobbling where she’d wounded him-wounded him at great price,for he’d run a sword through her left arm, which hung useless, blood oozingthrough the rag she’d tied around it.

His helmet was silver, reflecting the fire of his sword: she remembered that-and his face contorted in rage. She shrank away,toward the shattered wall, hardly a parapet.

Caibre stopped at the stair head, looking quickly around,realizing then that she was trapped. “Come, Sister,” he said, his voicesoft and malevolent, “I will send you to join your beloved brother …”

“A place I would go gladly,” she said. “But not alone....”

Dim figures appeared in the smoke; Hafydd and Alaan, lockedin battle. She lurched forward to support Alaan, but they were gone, swept awayin the whirling smoke.

Caibre used his great sword two-handed, like Slighthand,but she had only one good arm and was forced to rely on quickness and guile.She leapt onto the wall and almost landed behind him, for he was hobbling andslow-if it wasn’t all an act. Caibre was ever cunning and duplicitous.

A horse and rider, entirely aflame, raced by, and Elisebarely jumped clear. The heat was unbearable and she choked and coughed, thesmoke burning her throat and lungs, searing her eyes. A black billowing cloudforced her to turn, driving her to her knees.

She had stumbled at last, despite her swiftness, andbarely rolled out of the way of Caibre’s stroke. His sword rang on the stonebeside her head.

The smoke clung to her, as though it had claws, but a smallbreeze tore it free, and Hafydd stood before her, sword raised. She was aboutto leap aside when she realized he was turned away from her, and there, barelyvisible, Alaan braced himself, sword high. Elise did not hesitate, but sprangforward, slashing at the back of Hafydd’s knee. But at the last second hemoved, and drove the pommel of his sword into her head.

The memories burned inside her …

He had trapped her in the tower, and no matter what shedid, kept himself between her and the stair. Several times their swords met,and even one-handed she did not falter. She kicked his good foot out from underhim, sending Caibre crashing down on the stone, but with only one good arm shecould not finish him. He turned her blows aside, rising slowly, finallyfinding his feet, still limping and slow, but formidable even so. She cut hisforearm, and saw him bleed, and he struck her good hand a glancing blow withthe flat of his blade, cracking a bone. The afternoon bore on to evening, thesorcerers in the tower locked in combat, burning stones tumbling down thewalls, where they bounced and rolled into the riverbed and lay hissing in thedamp earth.

Elise fell forward, dazed, but some shred of awareness toldher hand to hold on to the sword. The world seemed to draw away, the sounds offire and battle fading. She expected the final blow-the point driven into herheart or the blade slicing through her neck-but it did not come. And then thesounds of battle came drifting back, the blistering heat. She opened her eyes,and saw a hand, bleeding, holding a smoky blade. She forced herself up on oneknee, where coughing and nausea stopped her. For a moment she reeled, thenforced herself to stagger up. Alaan could not stand against Hafydd alone. Sheknew.

She tried to turn the blow aside, but it struck her swordfull force … shattering the blade, leaving her with a foot of steel. Sianonleapt back, looking desperately around. Caibre lumbered forward, driving herinto a corner with his flaming sword, too long to elude.

“Ah, Sister,” he said. “You disappoint me. Sainth put upalmost as good a fight … before I cut him down.” He raised his blade, a faintsmile appearing.

Elise stumbled forward, barely able to raise her swordtwo-handed. She felt the memories inside her, body memories of battles and individualcombat. Many lifetimes of warfare. A deep breath and she opened the gate, lettingthe memories surge to the surface of her consciousness. Without Sianon, EliseWills would not survive this day. A rage came over her, a bloodlust. She felther grip tighten on the hilt of her sword, though she had not willed it. Therage was beyond her understanding, like a poison coursing through her veins,like acid. It focused her mind as though she saw the world through the keyholeof this hatred. Everything else was cast aside. There was only the battle. Thechance for revenge.

The rage was molten in her veins, the world reduced toher brother, standing over her with a sword. But he savored the moment toolong. She drove the broken point of her blade into the stone, shivering therock. There was a cistern below them, unknown to Caibre. It exploded like dustignited in a granary. Caibre stumbled, his stroke falling wide. The towerlurched and crumbled, tumbling into ruin, bringing down the curtain wallbelow. Sianon fell among the battering stones. Darkness …

And then the ripple of water.

Tam circled to the right of the wall of fire, trying to seethrough the flames and smoke, all the while glancing over his shoulder whereriders would appear, and disappear, horses running wild. A dark silhouettematerialized out of the smoke-a black-robed guard. Without hesitation, Tam wentat him with all the fury he could muster-there was no place for half measuresin battle. The fight was brutal and surprisingly short, the guard going downafter Tam slashed his knee, then put his blade through a gap in the guard’smail and into his throat. He went back to circling the fire, trying to see whathappened beyond. Shadows and dark shapes would appear faintly in theflame-apparitions, Tam thought, only clouds of billowing dark smoke.

He kept hoping beyond hope that there would be a gap in theflames that would let him through.

Hafydd loomed out of the murk, standing over someone prostrateon the ground. The knight lifted his sword high, and Elise stepped forward anddrove the point of her blade into Hafydd’s shoulder, rending the iron rings.Hafydd stumbled, half-falling over Alaan.

Elise jerked her blade free, then just barely dodged a blow,as Hafydd spun and slashed at her face.

Alaan rolled to his feet, shaking his head. Without a word,Alaan began to circle away to Hafydd’s left, Elise to his right, staying as farapart as possible.

“You’ve stopped taunting, Brother,” Alaan said. “Can you notcatch your breath?” He feinted toward Hafydd’s head, and Elise cut toward hisleg. But Hafydd was equal to it, dodging aside, almost catching Elise with thetip of his flaming sword.

Hafydd stamped his foot, and a column of flame jetted upfrom the ground, blinding Elise. She leapt back and to one side as Hafydd’sblade slashed through the air a few inches from her throat.

Dense smoke rolled over the field, blinding Elise for amoment. Hafydd was there … then he was not. She crouched low, sword ready,turning this way and that, expecting the flaming blade to strike out of thesmoke. A figure appeared and she stopped her blade before it severed Alaan’sarm. He flinched, then realized it was her. They turned back to back, eachguarding before them and to their right.

“I don’t know how he broke my spell,” Elise said, her eyeddarting this way and that, trying to peel back the dark haze.

“He was ready for us,” Alaan answered. “More prepared thanwe were for him.”

“We need to escape the fire ring,” Elise said.

“Not with our lives we won’t. Either we kill Hafydd, or wedie here-”

Fire blossomed to her left, rising up to the height of aman. They sidled quickly away.

“Where is he?” Elise whispered. “Why is he waiting?”

A shroud of smoke wafted over them, as dark as night. Elisecould hear Alaan coughing. They pressed back to back, not wanting to lose eachother, and to her horror, Elise felt desire course through her. She stumbledand scrambled back up, staggering away from Alaan. She drove the feelingsdown-her own brother! Repelled, she pushed back the rage, the consuming hatred… and then she was alone … Elise Wills, standing on a seething field ofbattle, stalked by a sorcerer. She did not know which way to turn, what to do.

“Alaan! she called out. “Alaan?”

Flame swept out of the darkness, burning into Elise’s side.She fell into the smouldering grass, her sword gone, and a smothering pallswept over her.

For an instant the smoke thinned, and Tam saw Hafydd standingover a figure, who was trying to rise. And then the smoke enveloped themagain.

“Elise?” he whispered. “Elise!”

Tam drew his sword and was about to charge the wall offlame, when something caught his eye. He thought it was a trick of smoke andpoor light, but then it appeared again-among the fighting men and riderlesshorses-a small child walking uncertainly through the madness. He spotted Tamand turned toward him. For a second the smoke washed over the child, and Tamsaw a horsemen ride through, swinging down with his sword, but a second laterthe child emerged, unscathed.

“Llya...,” Tam said. He ran, smoke burning hislungs, and reached the child in a few strides. “Llya! Where is Baore?” Tamasked.

“He waits by the river.” The boy held up something-an arrowlaid across his small hands.

“It must go into his eye,” he said in his child’s voice. “Youcannot miss.”

For a second Tam didn’t understand, but then he snatched thearrow, set it in place and drew back his bowstring. He stared into the whirlingclouds, his eyes watering from the smoke and fire and heat. Figuresappeared-unrecognizable silhouettes. Alaan, he thought, and waited. How wouldhe ever put an arrow in a man’s eye through this? Even on a clear day with thetarget standing still such a shot would be nearly impossible. Like shooting acoin at thirty paces.

Hafydd appeared in the smoke, like a shadow, his bladeraised. Tam couldn’t tell if he faced away or toward him. It can’t be done, hethought. Not one time in a thousand. And then he felt a small hand reach up andcome to rest on his hip, the touch both fragile and reassuring.

“The river carried you here for a purpose,” Llya said.

Tam drew the arrow back a further inch and let it fly at theshadow. The smoke billowed over again, swallowing everything.

Tam lowered his bow. “I missed,” he said, the words almost asob. “There was no shot.”

The wind backed and buried them in caustic smoke and ash, sothat Tam crouched down and tried to protect the child, drawing him near in theburning darkness.

The smoke rolled aside again, and two figures appeared-Elisewith her arm over Alaan’s shoulder, leaning on him heavily. Her eyes wereclosed and her face twisted in pain.

Tam went quickly forward and put an arm around her, helpingAlaan to bear her up. A dozen steps, and they lowered her into the littlecreek, where the water ran around her. She nodded her thanks, eyes shut tightand jaw clenched. She held a hand to her side, and Tam realized blood seepedbetween her fingers.

“Elise!” Tam cried, and crouched in the water, reaching outto pull her hand away.

She leaned her face into the crook of his neck, wet withsweat and tears.

“You must bring your brother,” Tam heard Llya say. “Your fathervowed long ago that Death would have none of you. I remember.”

There was no answer. Tam could see Alaan. He had fallen downby the stream’s edge and gasped for breath.

“Sainth …” Llya said, his child’s voice urgent.

“Cynddl?” Alaan called. “Fynnol? Can you help me?”

Alaan and Fynnol set off, but Tam remained, holding Elise,her face, bruised and bleeding and slick with tears. Cynddl came and stoodguard over them, though he looked near to collapse.

Tam felt Elise take his hand and press it to her softbreast. “I must go into the river, Tam,” she said. “You cannot follow.”

She kissed him once, then let him go. She slipped beneaththe surface, and Tam saw something ghostly in the waters. It fooled the eyewith its speed, passed swiftly through the shallows, and was lost to sight.

Cynddl dropped to his knees in the shallows. Reaching out,Tam put a hand on the Fael’s shoulder. He tried to speak, but no words wouldcome.

“It’s over,” Cynddl rasped finally. “Hafydd is dead.”

Alaan and Fynnol appeared out of the smoke, dragging theblack-robed Hafydd. They dumped him unceremoniously into the creek, splashingTam and Cynddl. The body sank into the shallow water, mouth slack, the shaft ofan arrow still protruding from one eye.

“Pull up his mail,” Alaan said, bending over the fallensorcerer and tearing at his clothes. He and Fynnol pulled the armor up underthe dead man’s armpits and Alaan took his sword and drove it through the body’schest. Even Tam was horrified. With all his weight, Alaan pressed the bladedown until it pinned Hafydd to the creek bottom.

“Caibre might go back into the river,” Alaan said, droppingdown on the bank and wiping a hand over his smoke-stained face. “But Hafyddgoes onto the pyre.”

Hafydd’s corpse went rigid suddenly, the back arching.Fynnol scrambled up, snatching a sword off the ground. A milky fluid appearedto ooze from the sorcerer’s pores. It swirled off downstream-taking a vaguelyhuman shape-then it too was gone.

Something caught Tam’s eye, and he looked up and started.One of Hafydd’s black clad guards sat on a horse, staring down at his formermaster. When he saw Tam’s reaction he held out a hand, palm out.

“He’s dead,” Alaan said to the ominous rider. “If you laydown your arms, you will be treated with mercy.”

The guard continued to stare, his face unreadable, thenturned his horse and disappeared into the smoke. The sounds of battle weredying away. A riderless horse thundered out the murk and was gone just asquickly. Men began to limp by, toward the river, and the smoke thinned.

Tam realized that morning had dawned without him noticing.Above the smoke and dust it might even have been a clear day. Alaan asked Tam’shelp, and they tumbled the body of Hafydd out onto the shore, limp and ashen. Asmall pool of water formed around the corpse. Alaan rummaged the body like athief, but took only a dagger in a sheath.

“He’s dead?” Fynnol asked. “Truly dead?”

“Yes,” Alaan said softly. “The nagar has fled into theriver. We’ll burn the corpse to ash. This time there will be no reprieve.”

Tam collapsed on the riverbank, feeling a sob well upinside. But he forced himself to breathe and swallowed it down.

A company of riders appeared, all in soiled Renne blue. Adouble-swan banner fluttered in a new breeze.

“I’m told that Hafydd is dead?” said a large man, assmoke-stained as the rest. He lifted a helm from his head and hung it from hissaddle.

Alaan gestured to the corpse. “And who are you, sir?”

“Fondor Renne,” the man said, then nodded to another rider. “Mycousin, Lord Kel. If you killed the sorcerer we are deeply in your debt.”

Alaan shook his head. “The arrow wasn’t mine.” He glancedover at Tam, then Cynddl. “One of you, I expect?”

“We all played our part,” Tam said. He looked down at thechild, who had gravitated toward Fynnol and stood leaning against the smallValeman with a familiarity that only children could conjure with their chosenprotectors. “Llya found the arrow …” He glanced up at the Renne noblemen andthought that they did not need to know more about the boy who had become thevoice of a river.

Men-at-arms began to converge on the place-to see the deadsorcerer. They were battered, exhausted, a look of horror in their eyes. Theyemerged out of the thinning smoke like spectres, quiet as the dead. A secondgroup of riders appeared. These wore the purple of the House of Innes-a liveryTam could not see without a flash of apprehension.

“Is that Prince Michael?” Fondor said, a little surprised.

“Lord Fondor,” the young Prince said. “I’m thankful to seeyou unharmed.” He nodded graciously to Lord Kel, then looked over at theothers. “Alaan? You look like you have walked through fire.”

“And so I have, my Prince,” Alaan said. “We have managed tokill Hafydd for you, though it would never have been done without Lady Elise.”

“And where is she?” the Prince asked quickly.

“She has gone to tend a wound. I don’t think you will seeher again this day.”

“But she will recover?”

“So we hope.”

Fondor was gazing over at the prince’s party. “Samul?”

“I don’t believe this is Renne land,” Samul said quickly.

“No,” Fondor said softly. “These are the estates of theHouse of Innes. You have only the Prince to answer to, here.”

“Samul Renne has permission to travel my lands freely. Tosettle here, if he wishes. Without him and Jamm and Carl and Pwyll, I shouldnever have survived to take back my father’s army.”

“Pwyll!” Alaan said. “Where is he?”

“He was wounded-burned, in combat with Hafydd.”

“Where?”

“In the shade of the trees.” Prince Michael pointed.

Alaan scrambled up. “I must see to him.” Alaan turned to theothers. “I haven’t even asked if any of you are hurt?”

All were injured in minor ways, but all shook their heads.On such a day a broken arm would be considered good fortune.

Alaan looked from one Valemen to the other. “We owe a greatdebt to you, Cynddl, and to you northerners. This was not your war, yet youhave been in the center of it from the beginning.”

“It was no one’s war,” Fynnol said. “It was just the echo ofa struggle that began before history. A feud over … what, I still don’tunderstand. A child, perhaps. A sorcerer who succumbed to madness. A spellthat contained that madness.” He shook his head. “Perhaps it is about a swanthat did not want to die.” He looked up at the story finder. “Maybe you willmake sense of it, Cynddl. And put it all into a story.”

“There isn’t one story,” Cynddl said. “There are myriadtales to be told, all different and puzzling. It is vain to ask them to makesense. Rath taught me that: just tell the tales. They will speak forthemselves.”