The Angel's Command (33 page)

Karay went next, then Dominic and finally Ben. When they were all safe, Ben held his hand out and introduced himself and his companions.

The woman shook his hand cheerily—she had a grip like a vise. Ben winced. “Thank you very much, marm, we're sorry to put you to any bother.”

She flicked the axe from its fissure. Catching it skilfully, she wound the rope back over her shoulder.

“My name's Arnela. 'Tis no bother, lad. I've swung crevasses on the rope many a time. Aye, and with a pair of goats slung across my back. Come on, you'll want feeding. Young'uns always do, goats or humans.”

When they got off the ledge, Arnela led them on a switchback of a route through secret paths and over jumbles of rock. She gathered goats along the way, chiding each as she herded them ahead of her. “Achilles, where've you been, you badly behaved fellow! Clovis, tell that kid of yours to stay with the rest! Shame on you, Pantyro, stop acting the goat and lead the herd like I taught you to!”

Arnela stroked Ned's head absently. “Hmm, nice dog, aren't ye? I'll wager you've more sense than all these creatures.”

Ben was not at all surprised when Arnela's dwelling turned out to be a cave, though it was so well concealed that nobody noticed it until she pointed it out. “There you go, straight in behind that little waterfall. See if you can do it without getting wet—I can, watch!” She rounded the corner of a rift covered with wet moss and mountain plants and vanished behind a small cataract that flowed into a pool and overspilt into a stream. Arnela patted each one's back as they came through into the cave, checking to see how wet they had got. “Ah well, you'll learn. Ned's the only dry one among ye.”

She ducked outside again. They could hear her calling to the goats. “No, don't stray too far or there'll be no fodder for ye. Atlas, stop nibbling those plants, d'ye hear me?” A moment later she was back inside, waving her hand at immense piles of dried grass heaped everywhere. “Sit ye down on the goats' dinner while I get a fire going.”

In a deep crevice at the back of the cave, Arnela kindled a fire from the ashes of a previous one, chatting away animatedly. “Always use charcoal, nice red glow, no smoke. This is my summer and autumn home. Winter and spring I take the herd down to the forest, got my other place there, hidden, like this one. Here, Karay, do somethin' for your living, girl, bring me that basket of eggs. You boys fetch the flour an' milk, you'll find some fresh herbs there, too, on that shelf.”

The eggs were those of mountain birds, some big and speckled, others plain white. Karay handed Arnela the basket. “I thought you'd be making a stew of goat meat,” the girl said.

The big woman fixed her with an icy glare. “Goat? People in their right mind don't eat goat, it makes them silly. I wouldn't dream of eating my goats, they're my children. I'll make you a special treat of mine. Mountain bread and herbs with good goat cheese, 'tis my secret recipe, you'll like it.”

Arnela was right, they did like her secret recipe. The food was homely and delicious. As they ate, Dominic related their story, from the day of their arrival at the village fair up to their encounter the previous night with Gizal, the blind woman. Arnela listened intently, showing great interest whenever Adamo's name was mentioned.

When Dominic finished, the goatherd lady sat staring into the fire. “So, you have taken on a mission to save the comte's nephew. 'Tis a brave and courageous thing you do. But let me warn you, the perils and dangers of going up against the Razan could cost you your lives—they are an evil brood!”

Ben could not help remarking, “You live in these mountains, marm, but they don't seem to bother you. How is that?”

A baby goat wandered into the cavern, bleating piteously. The big woman took it on her lap and stroked it gently until it fell silent and dozed off in the warmth. Then she began telling the friends her own history.

“I come from Andorra, high in these mountains, between France and Spain. I knew neither mother nor father, the only life I had was that of a tavern drudge, even as a very young girl. The owner said that gypsies left me on his doorstep one night. The townsfolk were scared of me, they said I was a mountain giant. I was big, you see. Though I was only young, I was taller, broader and stronger than anybody. By the time I was ten, all the local boys had given up teasing me, because I had beaten most of them soundly for their cruel taunts and jibes. My life was not a happy one. I slept in the stables, with donkeys and mules for company. Then the day came—I must have been nearly twenty years of age. One evening in the tavern, the mayor's brother, a fat pompous lout who had been drinking overmuch, began making sport of me. I ignored him, which made his mood turn nasty. As I passed by with a trayful of food and drink he stuck out his foot, and I tripped and fell heavily—meat, ale, dishes and tankards were everywhere. The owner came running across the room and started beating me for my clumsiness. Well, I got up and laid them both out with a blow apiece, the tavern owner and the mayor's brother. The guards and constables were sent for. I fought them, but they were too many for me, and I was dragged off and thrown in prison. It was more a kind of outhouse than a real dungeon. While the mayor and the citizens' committee were meeting to plan some dreadful punishment for my crimes, I broke through the roof, which was only thatch and old timber, and escaped!”

Dominic, his parchment and charcoals before him, was drawing Arnela as she sat talking to them. He chuckled. “You've certainly led an adventurous life, my friend. What happened after that?”

Arnela stared at her strong, weather-tanned hands. “I ran away and went to live among these mountains and the forests below, knowing the townsfolk wouldn't dare follow me into Razan territory. Nobody except outlaws dwell in this region.”

Karay sat with her chin cupped in both hands, her eyes shining with admiration for the brave goatherd. “But weren't you afraid of the Razan?”

The big woman scoffed. “They knew I was a fugitive from the law. Their menfolk didn't bother me, but several of the Razan women tried to intimidate me. Hah! I sent them on their way nursing bruises and broken limbs, I can tell you. Especially the ones who tried to steal my goats. The Razan tend to leave me alone these days, and that's the way I like it!”

Picking the baby goat up tenderly, Arnela laid it gently on a stack of dried grass. “I think I'll call that one Morpheus, he's done little else but sleep since he was born. Dominic, you mentioned Adamo before. Let me tell you, I know him.”

Ben was immediately curious. “Tell us about him, please.”

The big woman nodded her head and sighed. “Several times over the years I saw the boy, always being hauled back to the Razan caves after trying to escape. My heart warmed to him at first sight, because he was big like me, and strong, too. You only had to look at him and you knew even from behind that it was Adamo, a mountain of a young man!

“Anyhow, let me tell you. One night, about a month ago, it began to storm and rain. So, I went out to the cliffs to gather my goats in here, out of the weather. That was when I saw him—he was hiding in the rocks like a hunted animal, hungry and soaked to the skin. I brought him into this very cave, dried him and gave him food. At first I thought he was a mute because he sat by my fire half the night without saying a single word, just gazing at me with those beautiful brown eyes of his. But gradually I got him to talk. Adamo did not know who his mother or father were, but he could remember a big house where he thought he may once have lived or stayed. He could recall a kindly old gentleman and a nice old lady, but that was all. One thing he was sure of, though, he didn't belong with the Razan—their mountain caves were a prison to him. The old one, Maguda Razan, kept telling Adamo that she was his grandmother and the only kin he had living in the world. Poor Adamo, he begged her to let him go free, but Maguda refused. His hatred of being made to live in the company of robbers and murderers drove him to try to escape. He never got far—Razan men hunted him down and brought him back to the caves. Adamo was normally a quiet, lonely boy, but after he was first recaptured he refused to speak with any Razan, particularly Maguda. Many times as he grew he tried to escape and break away over the years. Each time he was brought back. Maguda threatened him with all manner of horrible things, but this did not stop Adamo.

“He told me all this that night I hid him in my cave. Came the dawn, I awoke to find he had gone. Soon after, a band of Razan came here and searched the area. Ligran Razan was their leader. He's worse than all his brothers put together, that one. A big mastiff dog he brought with him picked up Adamo's scent, and away they went, a pack of wild animals led by a wild animal! I haven't seen Adamo since, pray heaven and all the saints that the poor boy escaped this time. I haven't seem them dragging him back either, so at least that's something to keep my hopes up. Though you can never tell with the Razan—maybe they captured him and took him back by another route.”

Ben felt enormous sympathy for Arnela. “Don't worry, marm, when we get to their hideout we'll find him, if he's there. If not, we'll scour all of France and Spain until we can return Adamo to his uncle in Veron.”

Dominic presented her with his finished picture. “Thanks for your help, Arnela. I hope you like this, I did it for you in thanks for your help and hospitality.”

The facemaker had portrayed Arnela in profile, sitting with the baby goat on her lap by the fire. Beauty and simplicity of heart radiated from the parchment. Every line and weather mark on the big goatherd's ruddy features caught her kindliness and strength of humanity.

Her voice was husky with reverence for the artist's skill. “Dominic, I have never seen anything like this, 'tis a wondrous thing. I will keep it on my driest wall. It will always remind me of you, my good friends. Now, is there anything I can do to help you? Just ask. Anything?”

Ned leaned his chin on Arnela's knee and gazed up at her. “This wonderful person would come with us, I know she would. But the goats are her children—what would become of them if she left the herd to go off adventuring with us?”

Ben caught Ned's thought and spoke his answer aloud. “Oh, don't trouble yourself, marm, we'll be alright. Though I'd like you to keep watch for us on our return. We may need to get out of these mountains pretty fast.”

Arnela stroked behind Ned's ears. “I'll watch night and day for a sign of you. Now you must rest, it's safer to travel by night if you want to avoid discovery. Lie down now, children.”

They lay warm and cosy on the dried grass, Ned with his eyes half closed, watching Arnela mending their torn cloaks with goat-hair twine and a large bone needle.

Just before the Labrador dropped off, he heard her gathering grass and murmuring to the goats who had strayed inside. “Hush now, Ajax, and you too, Pantyro, let the young 'uns sleep. They've got enough to contend with, or they will have soon. Come on, now, outside, all of you, have dinner out in the fresh air. Clovis, can't you do something about that kid of yours, I've never seen such bad manners. Out with you!”

Lulled by the safety of the cave and its flickering firelit shadows, Ned sent Ben a message. “I wouldn't mind being one of Arnela's goats, they certainly get the best of treatment and care from her. Hmm, maybe not, though. Goats are a pretty thick lot, I'd never be able to put up with all that maaahing and baaaing, would you, mate?”

But his thoughts fell on deaf ears. Ben, Dominic and Karay were already soundly slumbering.

Ben had the feeling that it was evening outside when Arnela wakened them. She had bowls of vegetable soup and some bread and honey prepared for them.

“Eat plenty now, young 'uns, it might be some time before you get another good meal. Here, I've fixed up your cloaks as best as I could—needlework was never my strong point. I've packed a little food for you, and I've thrown in one of my extra ropes and an ice axe, you'll need them.”

Having eaten, the four companions went outside to take their farewells of their newfound friend. It was cold. Frost glittered on the rocks, and the sky above was a vault of dark velvet, pierced by a million pinpoints of bright starlight and a pale lemon-rind slice of moon.

Arnela's formidable arms encircled their shoulders. “Go now, and take all my fondest wishes with you. Stay to the right winding paths—avoid the left ones, or you'll finish up stranded on some ledge. Lead them off, Ned, you good dog. Go on, don't look back, and tread carefully.”

They trudged away with Arnela's voice fading behind them. “Come out of that water, Theseus, d'you want your hair to freeze? Narcissus, stop looking at yourself in the pool. Clovis, don't act silly, I've got your kid here with me. Come on, all inside now, that means you, too, Pantyro!”

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