The Witch of Glenaster (20 page)

We rode on for another few
miles, Thomas behind, Griffin in the waggon with us, till finally the wood
started to thin, and light peeped in - cautiously at first, but then in greater
abundance - and I was glad to see it.

We tried our best to cover up
Fyn’s body, but the blanket kept slipping away from his face, and I could not
stand to look at those lifeless eyes as they stared upwards at nothing. I
wanted to shield Magnus from it, but he resisted me; it seemed he was no longer
upset by the presence of death. He had already seen so much. I looked at my
brother, and felt the prickling in my eyes and throat like a slap. I should not
have brought you here, little one, I thought. Forgive me.

Silence was our companion for
the rest of our journey out of that cursed place, and by the early afternoon we
had reached the edge of Salem Forest, and a wide stretch of meadow, grey-green
in the sluggish light, stood before us. Gawping over Lukas’s shoulder, I could
just make out a long, brown line, parallel to the horizon, about a mile or so
distant.

“That is the Meer,” he said.
“We should be safe once we are on the other side.” But his tone suggested
otherwise.

“How far to the crossing,
Luke?” asked Griffin, though the effort of talking seemed a great one, and he
wheezed as he spoke.

“A mile-and-a-half, two at
most,” said Lukas. “We’ll make it.” The men’s voices were flat: their hope and
will seemed to have left them.

We rolled gently through the
meadow, between the forest and the river, and the horses seemed in no hurry: I
suppose they were blind-weary with fatigue. When I looked back at Thomas, I saw
his face was the colour of ash, and his right arm shook slightly on the reins;
once or twice, he almost seemed about to fall asleep, and I called out to him;
but he never lost control of his horse, and, when he heard me shout, simply
smiled and raise his hand in greeting.

The
Nailinch
Crossing is a wooden causeway, about five yards in
width,
that
spans the River Meer, rolling heedless below. The banks on either
side are not steep, and I suppose a rider on a horse could just about swim
across, but I would not like to attempt it, and was grateful to keep my feet
dry. The planking rumbled beneath the wheels as we made our way to the other
side, and, once a good half-mile clear of it, Lukas brought the waggon to a
stop, and Thomas rode up to join us.

We had lost half the horses –
Griffin’s and Fyn’s were now gone, as well as Lukas’s, and the men did not seem
hopeful of their return – and Lukas and Thomas tied up the others, and put feed
down for them, then took Fyn’s body and set a fire under it, and watched it
burn. Magnus and I stretched our legs in the long grass, for it was a clear
autumn day, the sun sharp and merry in the sky. When Lukas gazed warily across
the river, Thomas tried to reassure him.

“They won’t follow us. Or even
if they do, they will have to go the long way round. The
drooj
cannot cross running water, and there are fast spells laid upon the
Nailinch
Crossing, put there by wise sorcerers, many years
ago.”

He took out a cigar and lit it,
and watched the smoke as it spun and died in the air. Then he breathed in
deeply, and closed his eyes for a long time; and, when he opened them, he
winked, and chuckled; but his good humour soon passed, and grief filled his
face once more.

We ate a mean lunch, of
flatbread, and sour apples, before heading on, through orchards and meadowland,
the thick, wet grass sometimes pulling at the wheels, and Lukas having to stop
more than once to unclog them. Griffin was hurt worse than we had thought, and
Thomas dressed a wound that had seeped blood into his shirt. The two men
exchanged a look, but said nothing in front of us. I asked Lukas when we would
reach the Green Cities.

“Soon enough, miss. They’ll
find us, most like, long before we reach them. All the land between the Meer
and the Soar is theirs, and nobody from
Ampar
dares
to interfere. We’re lucky we made it here at all, though it’s cost us dear
enough.” And I heard him spit, and curse under his breath.

It was getting on toward
evening, and I was wondering if we would arrive at the Green Cities before
nightfall, when I became aware of something around us, a strange stillness,
that seemed to pervade the air and cling to it like dew. Leaning up on my elbow
– for I had been trying to sleep – I saw Magnus, crouched at the side of the
waggon, listening.

“Can you hear anything?” I
asked. He turned to look at me.

“We’ve stopped,” he said. And I
realized it was true: the waggon had come to a complete halt, and nothing
seemed to stir.

Griffin had grown weaker, and
from time to time would let me hold his hand, and wipe the sweat from his brow.
I climbed forward now, to the front of the waggon, and took his hand in mine,
and he seemed to smile a little, though his eyes did not open. I looked out at
the sorrowing night, over Lukas’s shoulder, and saw the shapes of the trees
either side of the path, like fleshless creatures swaying in the twilight.
Thomas was up ahead, a few yards distant, quite still and with his back to us,
his horse flicking its tail slowly back and forth, but otherwise as quiet and
composed as its rider. It took my eyes a good few moments to adjust, but when
they did I saw why we had stopped.

We were surrounded.

On every side, silent as
ghosts, and almost invisible against the trees, a great company of men was
assembled, clad in long black cloaks, hoods pulled low over their faces. For a few
terrifying seconds I thought the Watchers had returned, and we were all about
to die; but then I saw Thomas dismount from his horse, and stand, as if waiting
for something; and the men then started to move away a little, backing slowly
towards the woods, one of them nodding gravely at Thomas, who nodded back. I
watched, transfixed, and was wondering what kind of men could appear at will
without making a sound, when a strange figure started to walk towards us.

He was tall, a few inches over
six feet at my guess, and wore a long cloak, like that of the others, except it
had an iridescent sheen, and rippled slightly as he walked. He also wore a kind
of headdress, with dark feathers upon it, and a single amethyst set in its
crown. He had about him a confident, though not a haughty, air, and I supposed
him a king or leader of some kind, perhaps even a magi. But what I noticed as
he grew closer, and a small smile started to break his features, was his face,
the right side of which was clear and bright, and tanned like a farmer’s, but
the left side of which was dark and scarred; and his right eye was brown, and
friendly; but his left eye was green, and was not.

He stopped before Thomas, and
bowed low, and Thomas did the same. Then he raised a hand to us in greeting,
and said, in a voice that was dry and deep, like a great bell at the very
bottom of the world:

“Greetings, brothers. I am
Richard of the Towers, Guardian of the Green Cities. We permit no evil here,
and while I sit in the hall of my fathers no witch, nor demon, nor any dark
thing that crawls upon the earth, or wanders across the heavens, will I suffer
to enter my domain. You, Thomas Taper, are an old friend here, and any who
travel with you are welcome. We have been watching for you these past four days,
expecting your arrival. But I see there are not so many of you, now, as when
you began your journey. But all of this can wait. The day grows cold, and we
must get within the Cities’ Walls. There we can talk further.”

And he turned and walked back
the way he had come, and the crowd closed around him like a sea, and gradually
began to move off. And, looking back at Lukas, and nodding, Thomas remounted
his horse, and we set off again, into the dark, the Green Folk forming a shield
about, before, and behind us, and we were guided by their steps, towards their
home, that I had heard so much about, in myth and in fairy-tale.

“She is everywhere now, they
say.”

We were sat in the common room of
our host’s lodge, as the people of that country call their homes. There were
thick drapes hung about the walls, and lamps suspended from the ceiling by
chains, and the windows were shuttered against the cold. In one corner of the
room, a stove burned brightly, a long pipe carrying the smoke away through the
ceiling, and we were warm in the fleece blankets Richard’s people had given us.

I could almost forget we were
nearly two hundred feet off the ground.

We had travelled the best part
of a mile before reaching the gates of the Cities, and then we would have
missed them without help; for they were hidden behind a vast hedge of yew, and
could only be opened from within. Richard banged his staff nine times, three
sets of three, and, after a few moments, there was a steady creaking, and the
hedge seemed to collapse, as the doors gave inward.

Behind them, a long track led
away into the woods, and the gatekeepers watched as we processed through,
following the track, which gradually started to widen, until, turning a corner,
we saw, through the dense branches, the Cities themselves.

They were spread over many
acres of woodland, and, though there were some dwellings at ground level, I
quickly saw that what I had taken to be lights or lanterns high above were in
fact houses, many houses, built into, and upon, the wide-girthed trees. Bridges
and platforms ran between them, and there were children playing, and adults
going about their work, as if this were the most normal thing in the world. I
would still say that it is at night-time one can fully appreciate the intricacy
and wonder of the Green Cities, and when I first laid eyes on them I thought
them the most beautiful thing in the world; and, though many years have passed
since then, and I have seen many other marvels, I believe I still do.

Richard took his name from
three large towers, built around three great trees, which together formed the
points of a triangle, near the centre of the Cities. At their base there was a
low platform, where stood a solemn guard of nine warriors, like statues in the
darkness. As we approached, most of the men who had accompanied us started to
peel away, and the guards snapped to attention like stiff crows.

Richard had instructed that
Griffin be cared for in the Cities’ infirmary, and, after some initial
reluctance, he had consented to be led away on a stretcher, and Thomas, Lukas,
Magnus and I had left our horses and waggon in the care of Richard’s grooms,
and had climbed the steps on to the platform, where we were led to a low door
at the bottom of the South Tower, which the men had to stoop to enter. This
gave on to a lobby, glowing a murky pink from the torches on the walls, one of
which one of Richard’s men took from its bracket to light the way, climbing
ahead of us up a narrow stairwell.

As we climbed – and the journey
seemed an age to our weary legs, so that it felt like we were climbing to the
very heavens themselves – Richard told us the history of his home.

“Long ago, the Emperor Stephen
gave this land to my forefathers, because they had been driven from their own
lands, away to the west, by the warlocks of the Dying Sea. We pledged fealty to
him, and fought at his side, and at the side of his descendants, for many
centuries afterward. But our people became greedy, and desirous of vain things;
and we built great palaces, and temples made of gold, to worship false gods.
And then, when the Witch first appeared in
Glenaster
,
and laid waste to the lands of our neighbours, and burned their villages, the
emperor asked for our help; but, shamefully, our leaders refused, and hid
quaking behind their high walls. And the emperor went to war with the Witch,
and was defeated; and then our high walls were no defence, for her fire-drakes
laid waste to our fine palaces, and our great temples, and we were desolate.
And the emperor gave us no pity, but rather cursed us, for our greed and
cowardice. And so we had to rebuild again, from nothing; and we planted new
trees, and built homes in the old ones; and we learned some of the arts of the
ancient magi, of which there are so few now that they are only a rumour; and we
put spells upon the borders of our land, and watched the rivers by night and by
day; and so now we govern our own affairs, though we bear no malice towards the
emperor or his court. But he has grown old and foolish, and his followers lazy
and corrupt; and I fear for the future of our people if the empire should fail.
We can withstand the Witch, for now, but we cannot defy her for ever; and if
all the other lands fall, then surely ours will, too, in the end.” And he was
silent for a time, as we climbed. Then I said:

“Is it really so bad, if the
old empire falls? Perhaps, if the Witch is defeated, there can be a new emperor
in
Ampar
, one who represents
all
the people,
including your own. Wouldn’t that be a good thing?”

We stopped, and Richard turned
his gaze on me, his scarred face dark and flickering in the torchlight.

“Perhaps
you
would like
to sit on the Throne of
Ampar
…?” he said; and it took
me a moment to realize I was being mocked.

“I have already said that to
her!” said Thomas, laughing. “She is bull-headed, this one…” And I stuck out my
bottom lip in a sulk.

Finally we reached the
uppermost levels of the tower, where Richard’s personal apartments lay, Thomas
carrying Magnus, whose small legs were far too tired to manage all those steps,
and who now dozed gratefully. We set him down on a low bed, and one of
Richard’s attendants covered him with blankets, and set a cup of water and a
plate of small cakes by him. Then fleeces were brought for the rest of us, to
guard against the cold; and I sat watching my brother sleeping, and listening
to the talk of the men, envying them their confidence, their easy manner,
though I know now how frightened they must really have been. There was hardly a
woman to be seen, except those attending on us.

“Her Watchers chased us hard
through Salem,” said Thomas, quietly. “We lost three men.”

Richard nodded.

“That is ill news. We have been
watching the roads to the north, and there is much on them that we can see, and
all of it foul. To the south, also, there have been things moving, even during
the daytime; things that should not draw
breath
…”

“And meanwhile the emperor puts
shadowfighters
in his personal guard! He
cannot know what danger he is in…”

“Oh, I think he knows. But he
is afraid, and frightened men do strange things. You know he has ordered that
the Dragon’s Head be used once more, for executing criminals? They are to be
blinded and staked out in the sun and the rain, as food for the crows – and for
the smallest of crimes.”

Thomas shook his head.

“And his grandfather outlawed
the practice as barbaric… We were at the Dragon’s Head less than a month ago. I
knew Lord
Fyra
had been threatening to use it again,
but I could not believe he would actually do so…”

“There is very little I would
not believe of Lord
Fyra
. The day is very close now,
my friend. We are already weak and divided; and when we are weak and divided
enough, the Witch’s armies will march into
Ampar
, and
cast down the emperor’s throne, and she will make a new one for herself, in the
North. And from there she will rule all the lands, from
Calmir
to Sophia. All she has to do is wait.”

“You think she is that
powerful?” asked Thomas. Richard nodded.

“I see her hand in all the wars
that have engulfed our people these last few years,” he said. “She is only
playing with us, as a cat does, passing us like a mouse between her paws until
she grows weary of the sport. If she cannot be destroyed, it may be generations
before anyone dares challenge her again.”

The room grew silent for a
while. The men adjusted their cloaks, and were still.

Then Lukas spoke:

“We think we know how the Witch
may be destroyed,” he said, rubbing a hand across his chin, and levelling his
gaze at Richard. “We think we know why so many others have failed.”

Thomas turned to him, and I
thought for a moment he would rebuke him, for saying what he shouldn’t; but
instead he only nodded slightly, confirming the truth of his words to Richard,
whose mismatched eyes narrowed slightly in the half-light, and whose face
betrayed a sad recognition, as if he had been expecting something of this kind.

“You really intend to go ahead
with your plan, then, Thomas of
Senningport
? I thought
your intentions lay towards
Glenaster
, but I was not
sure – your mind has always been opaque to me, and I wondered why someone as
wise as yourself would throw away their life so pointlessly. But if, as you
say, you know something I don’t…”

“Can you think of any other
way, my lord?”

Richard waved a hand
dismissively.

“Once, I thought to gather an
army from those still loyal, from across the empire, and defeat the Witch
through strength of arms. But if the time for that had ever been, it is long
past now. Her power is too great.”

“What about the Veil?” asked
Thomas, and I could see Richard’s look change suddenly. “What if someone could
find it?” I felt the blood rise to my face.

“The Veil was lost long ago,”
said Richard, his tone bitter. “And even if it could be found, there is no one
now alive who knows how to use it.”

“Still, the Witch is a living
being,” said Lukas. “There must be a way of destroying her.”

“And what way did you have in
mind?” asked Richard, and he lit a pipe, and blew clouds of smoke across the
room. Thomas and Lukas looked at one another.

“If she could be drawn out of
Glenaster
…” Lukas began.

“Impossible,” said Richard,
coughing slightly. “She would never leave
Glenaster
.
It has been tried before.”

“Yet her power is tied to that
land,” said Thomas. “Between the River Soar and the ice-packed sea.”

“That is why she would never
leave,” replied Richard. “It is folly to imagine otherwise. Theodore the Great
tried to draw her out, and the armies of Easternmost, and the brothers of Sarah
Lays, whose forefathers rode to war against the warlocks of the Dying Sea. None
of them returned.”

“She might cross the Soar,”
said Lukas, “if the incentive were great enough, and then be killed like any
other living thing.”

“What incentive?” asked
Richard.
“All the blood and treasure in the world would not
suffice. She cannot be destroyed, you must understand that. The
spellcraft
that could once have undone her has long since
been forgotten. The most that can be hoped for now is to hold her back for a
while, perhaps long enough that she might be weakened somehow. But in truth I
despair of such an outcome. I fear it is already too late.”

Just then Magnus stirred loudly
in his sleep, and the men looked our way, as if they had forgotten about our
presence; and they were quiet after that, and spoke only in whispers, and I
pretended to be asleep, though I do not imagine they were fooled by my
playacting.