Land of the Silver Dragon (28 page)

I knelt beside him, gently preventing him from trying to get on to his feet. ‘You hit your head, Hrype,' I said. ‘Someone threw a knife at you, from behind, and it caught you in your shoulder. Here,' I put my hand to the wound, barely touching it.

Even so, he winced. ‘Sore,' he managed.

‘Yes, I'm sure it is,' I agreed. ‘It wasn't too deep, but it was bleeding quite a lot and I've stitched it. I put on some lavender oil, too, against the red heat.' I hesitated. I wanted to feel inside Hrype's tunic and under shirt to see if there was any warmth developing around the wound, but I held back. Tending his bare flesh was one thing when he was unconscious; quite another now that he was awake and aware, with those silvery eyes boring into me.

He is your patient.
I seemed to hear my aunt's firm, brooking-no-nonsense voice inside my head.
Put aside your foolish qualms and get on with it
.

‘I need to check the wound,' I announced briskly.

With a small quirk of his lips, as if he knew exactly why I was reluctant, Hrype obligingly turned his back, presenting his shoulder. I slid my hand under his clothing, quickly establishing that the stitches were holding, the bleeding had stopped and the wound felt no warmer than the surrounding skin. I withdrew my hand. ‘Thank you, all is well,' I said primly.

This time, it was more than a quirk; it was a definite smile.

I knew I must get him back to the village. He had lost a lot of blood; he needed a change of clothing; he would quickly become cold if we stayed out in the open, and that could be dangerous.

Besides,
I
needed to get back to the village. I could barely allow myself to think about my family; the agony was too much to bear. I was trying with all my might to remain hopeful, but it was a battle I was losing.

I stood up, looking down at Hrype. ‘Can you walk, if I support you?' I asked. ‘Or shall I go to the village to fetch help?'

He grasped my hands and stood up. He tried one step, then another. ‘I can walk,' he said. I saw him gritting his teeth, and understood that the effort was causing pain already.

‘I can be there and back quite quickly,' I said, ‘and—'

‘I said I can walk, Lassair,' he snapped. ‘Come along. Get me to your aunt's, and she can inspect your handiwork.'

It was a little under a mile to Aelf Fen, but never had such a short distance seemed so long. As we stumbled along, with me taking more and more of his not inconsiderable weight, I realized why he had held out against my going for help.

Hrype wanted to go to Edild's house, and not only because she was the village healer: his injury would give them some precious time together. If men from the village carried him home, they would automatically take him to the house he shared with his brother's widow and the young man who everyone believed to be his nephew.

I understood. I struggled on, and bit back the complaints. I was sorely tempted to abandon him and race for home, throw myself into my parents' house and find out the worst. I managed to resist the temptation. Just.

Eventually we reached the village. It was still very early, and few people were about. Even so, I did not want curious eyes to see us, so I took the path up behind the settlement, over the higher ground and around the ancient oak tree, approaching Edild's little house from the rear. At long last, I could look forward to relinquishing my patient into her care and turning for home.

I'd been going to leave Hrype and Edild alone anyway, after a quick conversation with my aunt to tell her of the night's events and how it was that Hrype came to be injured. As it turned out, however, I didn't get further than ‘We encountered the red-haired giant and his men and someone threw a knife at Hrype' before Edild stopped me with a look and, saying that she would see to him now, took him inside and firmly closed the door.

I ran all the way home, my heart thumping right up in my throat as I imagined what I was going to find. I could still see those marks on Skuli and his men that spoke so clearly of hard fighting. I could still see the blood that soaked Skuli's garments.

I felt sick with dread.

I heard the buzz of excited chatter as I approached.

Excited
chatter ...

No weeping? No grieving and tearing of hair?

I pushed open the door and fell into the house.

My father had a cut over one eyebrow, and the knuckles of both hands were grazed and oozing blood. Haward had a black eye, and was nursing his right arm with his left hand. Sibert –
Sibert?
– had a split lip, still bleeding because he didn't seem to be able to stop grinning.

The house seemed very full. There were other boys and men there – our neighbours, our friends.

I saw my mother, sitting on a bench trying to hold on to Leir, who was struggling and yelling that he didn't want to be there with her; he wanted to be outside with Squeak, watching out to make sure the bad men didn't come back.

Leir, it was perfectly clear, was quite unharmed. Swiftly I surveyed the rest of the crowd ... and there was Zarina, with her infant son in her arms. Amazingly, given the noise level, Ailsi was fast asleep.

My father had taken hold of me and was hugging me, very tightly. ‘You're all safe?' I asked him quietly. ‘Nobody's been killed?'

‘We're all safe, dearest child,' my father whispered back. ‘And what of you? Are you unharmed?'

‘Yes, yes,' I said impatiently. I didn't want to talk about myself; I wanted to know what had happened. ‘You fought them off? Skuli and his men?'

‘Skuli! Is that his name? The redhead?' I nodded. ‘Yes, we fought them off.' There was a definite touch of pride in his voice.

‘But ...'
But they are hardened fighters and you're a bunch of villagers
, I wanted to say.

He chuckled. ‘We were ready for them, Lassair. They were overheard, assembling on the edge of the village.' He nodded towards Sibert. ‘Your friend there came to warn us, and Haward and I rounded up as many villagers as we could. When they came creeping up to the house, they got the sort of welcome they weren't expecting.' He smiled grimly. ‘We might not have fine swords at our disposal, but it's amazing what can be done with a heavy iron cooking pan.'

‘You hit someone with a pan?' I, too, found that I was smiling.

‘Not me. I used the log-splitter.' He looked up, over the heads of the crowd, and I saw a tender expression cross his face. Turning to see who was the recipient, I met the eyes of my mother.

‘
Mother?
' I whispered.

‘Your mother,' he confirmed. ‘She swung that pan as if it was a battle axe. You should have seen her, Lassair!'

I wished I had done. I stared up at my father, then turned to look at the others who had fought shoulder to shoulder with him, lastly gazing at my mother. I realized suddenly how naive Skuli had been, to think he could threaten the youngest members of my family with such terrible violence without anyone raising a finger to defend them. My father, my mother, my brothers, my friends and my neighbours had clearly fought like cornered bears.

No wonder Skuli and his band had looked so battered.

My heart filled with joy, and I laughed aloud.

I gave Edild and Hrype till evening to be alone, then I really had to go and see them. I wanted to check on Hrype, for one thing. Although he was now in my aunt's more than capable hands, it was I who had treated him initially, and a good healer always follows up on her patients.

In addition, there were still so many questions to which I didn't have the answers. I didn't hold out any great hopes that Edild or Hrype would be able to satisfy my curiosity, but at least I could talk the whole business through with them. Hrype was the nearest thing to a wise man we had in the village; he knew far more about the big world beyond the fens than most people. As I slipped out of my family home and hurried along the track to Edild's little house, I prayed that Hrype would be awake and sufficiently alert to talk to me.

Edild looked up from stoking the fire as I let myself quietly inside. She acknowledged my presence with a lift of an eyebrow, as if it was no surprise that I could no longer stay away. Hrype was lying beside the fire on a pile of sheepskins and soft blankets, propped up against pillows. He was still pale, but greeted me with a smile.

‘Edild probably won't tell you herself, in case you get complacent,' he said, ‘but she was quite impressed with your handiwork on my shoulder.'

I sat down beside him. ‘How are you feeling? Any pain?'

‘Not much,' he said. ‘Manageable.'

I looked up and met Edild's eyes. Could she not give him something to make him more comfortable? I opened my mouth to suggest it, but she spoke before I could.

‘Don't you think I haven't tried?' she said crushingly. ‘He's so
stubborn
.' She sent him a look in which frustration and love were present in equal parts. ‘And he maintains that my pain-easing remedies make him dozy and stupid.'

Neither of those were words that I would ever have used to describe Hrype. I met my aunt's eyes, and she gave me a reluctant smile.

‘Why don't you make us all a good, hot, restoring drink,' Hrype suggested, looking up at her, ‘and then Lassair can tell us what it is she's come here to talk about.'

Edild gave a sniff, then turned to put out mugs and select suitable herbs from her shelves of pots and packages. Her hand hovered over the mandragora, but Hrype was watching.

Presently we were all settled together round the fire, hot drinks in hand – chamomile and verbena, sweetened with honey – and Hrype and Edild turned expectantly to me.

‘Skuli and his men tried to attack my parents' home last night,' I began, ‘and—'

‘Yes, we know,' Hrype interrupted. ‘Sibert came to tell us.'

‘Oh.' I was temporarily silenced. Then I rallied. ‘He was threatening to hurt the little ones, Leir and Ailsi,' I plunged on, ‘to force me to tell him where this magical shining stone is hidden, but it would all have been for nothing, because I don't know.' I paused, the dreadful memories of last night returning in force. ‘I thought he was going to kill me,' I whispered. ‘Out there on the track, when Hrype was wounded and Skuli's men surrounded us, he made me kneel and I watched him draw his knife to cut my throat.' A shudder went through me. ‘I
told
him I couldn't find his stone!' I burst out. ‘I was on my way back from the only place I'd thought of where it might be, but I was wrong. I really have no idea. And why?' I went on, all but shouting now. ‘What's it all for? All these threats, to the little ones, to me? Maiming, killing? What
is
this stone, that Skuli was prepared to do such terrible things in order to possess it?'

The echo of my hot, angry words died away, and there was silence in the little room. I was staring into the fire, but then an almost imperceptible movement caught my eye: Edild, shaking her head at Hrype's look of enquiry.

‘What?' I stared from one to the other. ‘
What?
'

Hrype's eyes were still fixed on my aunt. ‘Tell her,' he said softly. Again, she shook her head. ‘Edild, it's time,' he said more firmly. ‘After all Lassair has been through, don't you think she deserves to know what lies at the heart of all this?'

Edild was staring intently at me, her eyes boring right into me. Slowly she shook her head. ‘It was not to be until she was older,' she muttered. ‘She cannot surely have sufficient strength yet, and I would not put this upon her before she is fit to bear it.'

What was she talking about? What
was
this secret that I might or might not be strong enough to be told? I opened my mouth, about to protest that, whatever it was, what I'd just endured had toughened me up as if I'd fought a war, but Edild and Hrype had eyes only for each other. I might not have even been in the room.

‘Edild, how will you know when she
is
fit?' Hrype was softly asking. ‘What specific test must she pass, and has she not already shown she is equal to far more than we have any right to expect her to be?'

I could hardly believe what I was hearing. I had impressed Hrype! He had just said as much! Before the surge of joy that this knowledge gave me could stop my ears to anything else, I put it aside and made myself concentrate.

‘But what if I judge wrong? What if—?' As if suddenly recalling my presence, Edild stopped. She turned to look at me, on her face an expression I had never seen before.

It was ... could it be ... respect?

No. It couldn't. My aunt was my teacher, cool-headed, efficient, demanding of me all that I could give and grudging in her praise. Of course it wasn't respect.

With a grunt of pain, Hrype reached for her hand. ‘Edild, it is time,' he said, all but inaudibly. ‘You know it is.'

Briefly Edild closed her eyes, her face full of anguish. Then she squeezed Hrype's hand, gave him a swift smile and, disengaging herself, got to her feet.

She looked down at Hrype, and I thought that some unspoken question passed from her to him. He shook his head. Then, turning to me, she said, ‘Wrap up warmly in your shawl, Lassair. Despite the season, it is growing chilly outside.'

She picked up a lantern, then gathered up her own shawl, tied it briskly around her and headed for the door. I went outside after her, and followed her down the path away from the house.

I had no idea where we could be going. In the distance, the glow of fire and lamp light came from several of the village dwellings, but Edild's house is on the edge of the settlement, and we did not pass close by any of our neighbours. We were not heading for the village: when we reached the track, Edild turned left, towards the church and, further away, Lord Gilbert's manor of Lakehall.

Were we going to see
him
? Whatever could this matter have to do with the lord of our manor? Had he ...?