Fell (The Sight 2) (38 page)

Vladeran shook his head, telling himself what he thought he had just seen must have been a trick of the light, and instead Alina wrapped the chain that held her angrily around her fists. A voice came to her too, out of the past:
Beware of hate, Alina
.

“You want vengeance, don’t you?” said Vladeran, with a laugh. “After such a long, brave struggle. For that’s the true law of life. Hate and revenge and need conquer everything in the end.”

“And it is the law that should take you,” said Alina coldly, thinking of Lescu’s words about justice, “the law of King Stefan that should condemn your dark heart.”

“Law?” Vladeran spat the word contemptuously. “I’m the law in Castelu, changeling. Men make their rules and their laws, when really they’re just words that cover up the true laws of nature and survival. The laws of gold and struggle and of victory. The laws of life.”

Alina could hardly argue with Vladeran. So much she had seen of the real world had taught that it was a cruel and ruthless place, stripped of magic. But her heart beat against it.

“I pity you.”

“I don’t need your pity, changeling,” said Vladeran. “You’re barely more than a child, so what can you know of ambition and true feelings? Such feelings, and such ideas too. Why should King Stefan rule this land, and why should I not sit on his throne? There’s no birthright, fool, least of all for a woman. There is only what you can take and pay for later.”

Alina glared back at the man.

“And your beautiful mother, Romana,” he said softly, “how I loved that creature and longed for her, how I do still. A feeling so deep and powerful it’s like breathing itself. As deep as the hatred I felt for you when my son was taken by wolves.”

Alina shivered.

“Until you’re gripped by that, what can you know of real life, child? It forced me to do what I did, while every day I have to carry the burden of power and responsibility,” said Vladeran angrily, rubbing his scarred hand through his glove again, as though trying to rub the marks away.

Although Vladeran had said that he did not need Alina’s pity, it seemed to her that in some way he was pleading with her, almost begging her to understand him.

“What do ordinary people know of true hunger and of true glory, Alina? What do they know of destiny? And what of the sorrow that comes like a thief, and of the cold facts that I must admit only to myself in the darkness?”

Vladeran’s clouded eyes had grown dull. The light had gone out of them completely, as he struggled with the paradox of being.

“How sometimes I force myself down on my knees, like a king forcing a serf to bow before him, and lift my head to pray that God and the heavens may understand what I am, and what I had to do.”

Alina blinked and her face set hard.

“But though I pray to God and all his silent, judging saints, my words hang dully on my lips and I feel nothing,” said Vladeran. “Because though I’ve touched strange visions, I don’t believe that there is anything up there at all. Not even Morgra has shown me anything beyond the Red Meadow.”

Morgra
, thought Alina,
he speaks with Fell’s aunt. It must be she who prophesied with the Sight. As the Sight had prophesied this terrible place. It is true then. Vladeran is invulnerable
.

“So when I pray, I mouth the rite but my thoughts turn only to the shadows and to the future. To what we all must lose in the end, but also to what we may enjoy before we lose it—power.”

Alina was trembling, and as she heard his confession, she thought that, although it was she who was lying here in the straw, chained to the dripping prison walls, it was really he who was in a prison, far deeper and more terrible than anything human hands could build. As she listened, she remembered Lescu’s words again,
And remember, Alina, it is what we do ourselves in life that harms us
.

“No, Vladeran,” she whispered sadly. “You want me to understand, but you had a choice, as we all have.”

Vladeran’s face, racked with the passion that had overcome him, suddenly grew calm.

“Do we?” he said coldly. “Does my dog have a choice when he sees the squirrel flash from the undergrowth, and his belly and his soul tell him he must hunt?”

“We’re not animals,” said Alina, and she had a strange feeling that she was somehow betraying Fell. “We’re much more than that anyway. We have a higher mind.”

Vladeran stared hard into her clear, hazel eyes and her beautiful face.

“That’s exactly what we are,” he said. “But you speak of animals, Helgra woman. Very well then, storyteller. There’s another reason you’re still alive. I want to know, girl, about the wolf. Mastery of the creatures has obsessed me since Elu was taken. Tell me what it’s like to walk the world with a wild beast at your side. To know its very thoughts and to command it.”

Alina’s eyes flickered protectively. How could this man ever understand her feelings for the wolf? To have Vladeran even talk of him felt like a desecration. Fell was wild, yes, and free, but he was far more than a beast. Yet what was Fell?

Though they talked with the Sight, his mind was like a foreign country, where she did not really travel. Where she did not even want to travel. As for commanding Fell, Alina did not command the black wolf at all. Vladeran could never understand that because of his obsession with power and control. That Fell had chosen freely to walk at Alina Sculcuvant’s side, to protect her, and that was why she felt so safe in his presence. That was why she loved him.

Vladeran put his hand in his pocket and he pulled out a little brass key, like the key Mia had once used to open a chest.

“Tell me, storyteller, and I’ll unlock your hands,” he said. “It’s not freedom, but at least you’ll be more comfortable. Don’t think to ask your guards either, for this is the only one.”

Alina stared back at him, but said nothing of Fell.

“Very, well, changeling,” growled Vladeran. “Though I could torture it out of you. If you will not speak of such things, answer this at least: Where does the power really come from to talk with the wolf? The Sight.”

Alina wanted to say one thing alone, “sensitivity,” but instead she lifted her chin defiantly.

“Why do
you
want to know, Vladeran?”

Vladeran’s eyes flickered.

“My oath,” he whispered, “one of the oaths of the Order of the Griffin. The pursuit of knowledge. And, as I say, they took my child!”

Alina paused. She was so tired.

“I don’t know,” she answered with a sigh. “It was just there. Perhaps it’s something to do with Elu and our Helgra blood, and what happened. Perhaps it is just as it is. Why do you ask me these things?”

Vladeran grasped the key angrily in his fist.

“This gift you have, that’s a true power, and if I could have it too, then I would seek out many things, and could control all men. See into their minds. Then perhaps I could really look beyond too, and really believe. Prove that no one should be frightened of what comes after.”

Vladeran dropped his eyes, and suddenly felt that he had admitted too much of his own fear in front of the girl. His dog turned his head and began to growl and Vladeran looked up again.

“You accuse me, storyteller,” he whispered bitterly. “But what about you? Because of you and your fairy tales and lies, there is war within Castelu itself. Because of you real men will die tomorrow, and fire will light the land. How many are you willing to have die for you, Alina WolfPaw?”

Alina shivered. Perhaps Vladeran was right. Perhaps she should never have thought of wielding a sword. Perhaps she should never have gone amongst the Helgra at all. Was it all her fault?

The door opened again and one of the Shield Guard stepped inside.

“What is it?” hissed Vladeran.

“My lord, the Helgra have crossed the mountains and approach the passes to the palace. There are many.”

Vladeran’s eyes sparkled and Alina sat bolt upright.

“And the trap is laid?”

“A thousand trenches wait sewn with wooden stakes to impale them. Barrels of pitch are ready to be lit, and hurled on catapults into their midst. While like the pits your troops are hiding in wait in the forests to fall on their retreat and push them back into the jaws of death. The trap is ready to be sprung at your command. They shall not escape.”

Alina’s eyes were full of tears and horror, and Vladeran smiled.

“Good. And I have summoned other help too,” he said. “Now go.”

“Yes, my lord.”

Alina’s heart sank utterly. She had tried to reach Fell once more, but in vain. Catalin and her people were walking straight into a trap. For all her courage and skill, for all her training and the supposed wisdom it had brought, Alina was chained up in a miserable cell, and no more help to them than a useless prayer. It was hopeless.

Vladeran was deep in thought, still plotting and planning in his quick brain, but he suddenly turned to his hound.

“Come, Vlag,” he whispered. “I’m sick of the stench of this place, and we shall feed you. Together we’ll listen to the news of the Helgra’s destruction from a safe vantage point. The hunt begins, and it will be finished by the morning.”

The dog whimpered and lifted its tail hopefully, but Vladeran did not look at Vlag with kindness. He wanted a wolf at his side now.

“And you,” said Vladeran, turning again to Alina, “I leave you to the shadows. If the trap fails, we still have your blood to force the Helgra to our will. If it succeeds, as it shall, then you’ll swiftly meet a fate you were always destined for. For to me, child, you’re already dead. You always have been.”

The young woman looked back coldly at the man, and her courage rallied.

“Is that your final blessing?” she whispered scornfully. “Friend of my father, protector of our family. You are true to your nature at least.”

Vladeran’s eyes flashed. “Blessing? You’re a believer, then, storyteller? Well, if it’s a blessing you want, then the priest shall visit you, but only to bless you at the moment of your execution.”

Alina WovenWord shivered as the door slammed and she sank her head sadly.

Catalin raised his blue green eyes as he stood next to Ovidu in the night, on a thin mountain ledge, above a high chasm that made his head spin. The mighty sweep of the twinkling stars above formed a glistening canopy to what lay below them now, beyond the narrow gorge.

In the distance was a palace, buckled in shadow, and in front of it snaked a great churning river. It flowed down out of the giant mountains, driven by the forces of nature, and the palace was set beyond it, at its widest part. The river was strong and looked difficult to cross, spanned only by a thin wooden bridge.

Before that was a rough plain, divided by a defensive ditch, that would leave them dangerously exposed when they crossed it in the morning light. Catalin suddenly thought of Baba Yaga and the brave Vasilissa, who dared to enter her gate of bones, and it gave him courage. Many times as the Helgra had marched towards the palace, Catalin in turn had sat by their fires and given them spirit by weaving brave stories.

“The night deepens, Catalin,” whispered Ovidu at his side, smiling at the nervous young man. “We should rest now, boy. We must be up before the dawn.”

Catalin’s hand came down to the bow slung over his shoulder, and as he thought of Alina Sculcuvant, he realised that he loved the young woman.

“I wish we could fly to her now,” he whispered, “like birds.”

“Wishes can make fools of us, Catalin,” said the Helgra softly, fingering the sword at his side, but clutching tighter the sharp antler he held in his left hand. “We’re only human, boy. And we’ve the gorge to navigate first, and then the plain. A hard battle faces us, lad, and I’m sorry to take one so young to face it.”

“You’ll be at my side,” said Catalin simply, though he thought of his father.

“Yes, young man. Watching your back, as you face the future with your arrows.”

Ovidu swung his head.

“Unlike my dear little brother Cascu,” he whispered, “I fear his disappearance, fear some dark fortune.”

“But the Helgra are ready, Ovidu?”

“Many have come,” answered Ovidu proudly. “Though more would have, I think, if Alina WolfPaw led us.”

Catalin looked down from the ledge to the Helgra campfires, twinkling in the darkness far below them. He had never been to war and had no idea what was to come, except that his father had told him what a terrible thing it was.

“I hope we’ve not led you into a trap, Ovidu,” he said guiltily.

“You’ve led us to nothing but the recognition of what we are. And your courage has taught us to forge our strength again. For a Helgra woman. And a young man I’d honour as Helgra too, storyteller.”

Catalin smiled gratefully, but he suddenly wished he were back home with Lescu and Alina.

“I wish the black wolf were with us at least,” he said.

“That would be a fine sight indeed,” agreed Ovidu. “Yet the men carry him in their hearts, as they do the girl. The Helgra shall never forget them.”

Catalin heard a noise in the night, and it seemed to him that the mountains around were suddenly alive with noises, like a strange whispering, as though the very undergrowth were speaking.

“Are you frightened, Ovidu?” he asked.

“Yes, my boy. And only a fool wouldn’t be. Yet proud too. Come, let us return.”

The two swung round, and almost instinctively they started to run, jumping and swerving down the track towards the campfires below. They were on foot, as they had been since the army had set out from the Stone Den. The Helgra, carrying their homemade weapons and antlers, had moved fast, like mountain warriors, but Catalin feared they had delayed too long.

The Helgra camps seemed to grow in the night like red flowers as they came down the mountain, revealing an army of nearly a thousand men, but as Ovidu and Catalin neared the foothills of the gorge, they saw a Helgra scout running towards them. He saluted Ovidu and stopped, gasping for breath.

“There’s news, Ovidu. The messengers have returned from King Stefan.”

“But not with welcome tidings, from the looks of it?”

“No, Ovidu,” whispered the scout, bowing his head bitterly. “Stefan Cel Mare has fought a great battle against the Turk and many have died. It was a victory, yet he laughed at our story. He called it a foolish dream.”