Across the Face of the World (48 page)

Near the fire, Hal slept quietly.

'What are you doing out of bed again?'

'The sooner I regain the use of my legs, the sooner we can leave.'

'Leave? It will be weeks before I let you out of this cave!' The Haufuth shook his head.

Really, the man was impossible!

'Weeks? That will be too late. We need to arrive at Instruere within a fortnight of Midsummer at the latest, so we should leave within the week. Even that will be cutting things a bit fine.'

He scowled at his big nursemaid.

'Perhaps you don't understand,' the Haufuth said kindly. 'You've been seriously ill. Going outside is out of the question until you have completely recovered. And travelling to Instruere? Perhaps next year.'

'It is you who do not understand, my friend. My sickness was given to me as a gift. I have unwrapped it and found it pleasing. The weeks of confinement have taught new lessons, and now it is time to put what I have learned into practice. I must go to Instruere.'

The big man sat down wearily. 'Never try to reason with a mystic', the old proverb went.

There is much wisdom in the old proverbs, the Haufuth reflected.

The Hermit fixed his overbright eyes on his benefactor. 'I left the company of men because I preferred my own, and despaired of finding answers amongst them,' he said. 'I have spent long years listening for the truth, and I have learned that the truth is a Person, that I can hear His voice. In the silence of the years I learned to distinguish the true from the false. I have more answers than I knew questions existed for; I know more than I can live out in practice.'

The Haufuth began to feel uncomfortable under the man's intense gaze.

'So here I am, clean and pure and useless. Years of discipline and singleminded devotion have brought me to the place where I can deny myself anything. A year ago I was content, believing myself holy. But now I am not so sure.'

He can deny himself anything? The Haufuth's thoughts currently focused on breakfast, and he hoped for a swift end to this homily.

'I am pure only because I have removed the source of tempta¬tion, not because I have faced temptation and overcome it. Now I see that my purity is like the purity of a stone: single but useless. I am no longer bad, but I am no longer good. I know everything but do nothing. I take no risk and so receive no reward. Far from adding, the years of contemplation have stripped goodness from me.'

There was a quiet despair in the voice of the Hermit which prompted the Haufuth to say: 'But what about the truth! Surely knowing the truth is a good thing?' He thought of his own dilemmas; if only he had known the right thing to do!

'It is a curse!' came the vehement reply. 'To know the truth and yet not put it into practice; to gaze into the face of truth and yet remain unchanged; to know what to do and yet not do it -

this is the path to guilt and to madness. It is the path I have trodden.'

The Haufuth remained silent.

'And then you and your friends came. I was happy, because I had foreseen your coming and knew much regarding your quest. I thought that I could help you, and that in doing so I might lay my guilt to rest. Instead, you have helped me through my sick¬ness, and made me face my pride.

'Your care for me was a gift beyond price. I know that your self-doubt motivated you to remain with me, but still you gave of your¬self to a stranger when your heart was with the others. During the nights I have heard you: I wonder where they are now? 1 hope Kurr is leading them well! Your gift to me has cost you a great deal.

'For years I depended on no one but myself. Now I have had to admit that I need others. That I am of no use out here in this cave. That there is more virtue in one kind act than in years of sterile contemplation. You have taken me down from the shelf, polished me and readied me for future usefulness. I thank you!' The Hermit bowed low, his blond locks brushing the cold stone floor.

'Strange as it may be,' the Haufuth replied, leaning forward in his turn, unwillingly caught up in the conversation, 'your sickness has been good for me also. I arrived here ready to give up and go home, and even that decision seemed beyond my strength. I felt useless, a hindrance to my friends. But in the last month I have learned that this is not so, that there are uses for me yet, if not perhaps the glorious fame of leadership that I imagined for myself. I am content, and ready to rejoin humanity.'

The Hermit laughed. 'We should both thank the Right Hand of the Most High! Perhaps when we get to Instruere we will speak to him about this.'

The Haufuth shook his head. Perhaps I should be thankful for at least a few minutes' lucidity!

Yet he no longer doubted that soon they would be on their way to the great capital city of the Falthan kingdoms.

The morning dawned late under a low overcast and light drizzle. Leith rose quickly, stretched the stiffness out of his back, rubbed life into his weary legs, dressed and prepared for another day on the road. Except that this might be the day he feared. The last day of all.

'Perhaps the Bhrudwans took the Fiannan Road south to Plonya,' Perdu offered over breakfast.

'If they had wanted to go south to a seaport like Ciennan, why take the Westway in the first place?' Kurr had been through this argument in his own mind many times. 'They obviously intend going home by the shortest possible route.'

'Maybe that was their original intention, I'll grant you,' the Fenni continued, 'but you yourself said that they would have been unfamiliar with the severity of an upland winter. Isn't it possible they abandoned their original path for an easier one? Or that they went south simply to survive?'

'We should have come across them before now,' Wira said.

'Nothing we can do about that now,' Kurr said gruffly. 'If they turned south then we'll turn south too and take the Fiannan Road. If they've boarded a ship, then we'll take ship and follow them. Or perhaps some want to give up?'

'Of course not,' Wira answered. 'We merely question the wisdom of taking the Southern Run, of abandoning the Bhrudwans' trail.'

'Did we have a choice?' his brother countered. 'Or are you forget¬ting Roleystone Bridge? I don't believe we would have survived Withwestwa Wood without the Fodhram, so even if we had made it over the river we would have died on the road. If you want my opinion, that is the fate that overtook the Bhrudwans and their captives.'

'Whatever path the Bhrudwans took, whatever fate befell them, we are going forward today to find out.' Kurr was tiring of the debate and wanted an end to it.

The road climbed the lower slopes of the mountain and soon Withwestwa Wood lay spread out before them. The forest thinned out in places, and other areas were obviously secondary growth, as though some catastrophe had rolled down from the mountain and destroyed the virgin timber. Occasionally the path wound its way through regions of black, broken rock, upon which nothing grew. Thin, foul-smelling vapours rose from cracks in the rock, and in one place a pool of boiling mud bubbled at the very edge of the path.

Above them the drizzle thickened into a steady rain, and the Company paused to don their cloaks. The ground grew sodden, and the forest leaves dripped their burden down on the travellers. The air filled with mist and moisture and the smell of sulphur. Still the path climbed.

Midmorning the Company halted. The Westway had now levelled out, skirting around the slopes of Steffi at least a thou¬sand feet above the plain, but they could barely see either plain or mountain. Mist clung to the slopes, coating the trees and bushes with a watery film, decorating spiders' webs with pearly beads, and deadening all sound.

'I'm sending out a scout,' Kurr announced. 'At least, Farr will send out a scout from his rank.

From now on there is to be no talking, and we must move as quietly as possible. Farr, whom will you send?'

'I will go myself.'

'But who then will take charge? That would defeat the whole purpose!'

Perdu spoke. 'I have acted as scout and tracker in many Fenni hunts. Perhaps I might volunteer?'

Kurr was about to accept, but remembered that he had asked Farr to choose. 'Very well,' Farr said grandly. 'Try to report back every couple of hours or so. And be careful! We don't want to warn them of our presence!'

Perdu smiled at this slight on his ability. They know nothing of Fenni skill, he thought. Still, neither do 1, really, he added ruefully. They sent me out as scout only after they had hunted enough, and then purely to teach me some skill. Well, we'll soon find out how much I have learned! He waved to the Company and set off at once.

It had taken a mere two days for the soreness, the deep weariness, the gnawing hunger and the despair to return. During some marches Mahnum had plodded forward only at the prodding insis¬tence of the point of a sword. There is a limit to what 1 can endure, he thought. How much longer until 1 sink to the ground and rise no more? This weariness overwhelmed him, dominating even his desire to escape, his anxiety for Indrett, his concern for Faltha, his will to survive.

He hadn't lifted his head in hours, and when he did, he was greeted by the sight of a single mountainous cone rising in the distance, ahead and to his left. Have we come this far? he wondered. Is that Steffi? The next time he raised his head, the mountain was much closer, its head and upper slopes shrouded in cloud.

Then something happened to change everything. The Bhrudwans called a halt, stopping to eat the midday meal; dried meat for the captives, stewed rabbit for the warriors. As always, Mahnum had been placed as far away from Indrett as possible, but his brutal captors couldn't stop him gazing on her. This he did, and while they swallowed their tasteless food they held each other's eyes across the forest path. Around them preparations began for recommencing their journey. Then, to his left, on the edge of vision, Mahnum noticed a flicker of movement.

He turned his head slowly, keeping an eye on the Bhrudwans, and Indrett followed his gaze.

There! There it was again!

It was a hand, deep in the brush. A hand waving. And a face. No one he knew, but a face nonetheless. The hand went to the lips, cautioning silence. Mahnum tried not to look directly at the face. The hand waved again, then it and the face disappeared into the forest.

The Company had just finished a cheerless lunch when Perdu came racing back into the camp.

'I've seen them!' he cried. 'I've seen them!'

Questions arose at once from the travellers, each striving to be heard over the others. Kurr motioned for quiet.

Farr strode forward. 'Make your report!'

Perdu tried to catch his breath. 'I have seen the Bhrudwans,' he said, in between breaths. 'They are coming this way, just like Kurr said they would.'

'Are the captives all right?' Leith asked, unable to contain himself.

'The captives are alive and well, from what I could see.' Leith put his hands to his head in relief.

'That is indeed good news!' Kurr said.

'The Bhrudwan warriors also appear alive and well.'

'That is not such good news, but only to be expected.'

'I saw them break camp and watched them walk along the Westway. Two Bhrudwans lead them, with the captives driven by the third.'

Farr asked for silence. 'Did they see you?'

'I took care not to get too close. I am sure the Bhrudwans saw nothing.'

Kurr rubbed his hands together in satisfaction. 'Well done!' he said.

Farr was doing some quick thinking. 'How long since you left them?'

'About fifteen minutes ago. Between there and here the Westway climbs up the skirts of this hill.'

'So they are perhaps forty minutes away,' Farr estimated. 'That doesn't give us much time to prepare our ambush.'

Perdu spoke again. 'There's a place about five minutes from here that is perfect for an ambush! There a narrow log rope bridge crosses a deep gully cut into the flanks of the mountain, and once on the bridge the Bhrudwans will be vulnerable.'

'Excellent!' Kurr cried. 'Then we must make for this bridge with all speed!'

Within moments the Company sprinted down the road, all weari¬ness forgotten. 'Draw your swords!' Kurr commanded in a hoarse whisper as they ran. 'The first rank will cross the bridge and hide in the trees on the far side. The second rank will remain on this side.' The bridge appeared ahead of them as he spoke: a sixty-foot-long span over perhaps an eighty-foot drop to the riverbed. Huge trees with roots exposed leaned over the edge of the sheer-sided gully as though floodwaters from Steffi had torn away the ground from under them. The stream at the bottom of the chasm flowed a deep, foam-flecked brown, swollen by the rain that still fell on the wide flanks of the mountain hidden somewhere to their right.

Kurr and Farr took a closer look at the bridge, exchanging brief words. Four strong ropes held it together; split logs formed a precari¬ous road over the foaming water.

Kurr beckoned to Leith and Wira. 'Find cover!' he hissed. 'I'll watch for the Bhrudwans.

Hopefully they will still be walking in the arrangement Perdu described. We will let the warriors pass and trap them on the bridge. When I give the signal, Leith, Wira and I will leap out and cut the ropes. Farr, take your rank and be ready to free the captives. It will be your task to deal with any remaining Bhrudwans. We'll join you as soon as we can.'

Farr nodded his approval. The first rank scrambled their way across the bridge, which swayed crazily as they passed, one at a time, Farr, Perdu, Hal, Stella. In a moment they had melted into the trees on the far side.

'Shouldn't we cut through the ropes now, leaving them just holding the bridge and no more?'

Wira asked. 'That way we can guarantee the bridge will fall with one blow.'

'Good idea. Wait here, Leith. Wira and I will attend to the bridge.'

Leith couldn't help wondering how, once this was all over, they would cross the river without the aid of the bridge.

In a few minutes the other two returned to the shelter of the trees. 'Just as well you suggested weakening the ropes,' Kurr commented. 'We still would have been hacking at it when the Bhrudwans came down on top of us!'