Ghost in the Yew: Volume One of the Vesteal Series Page 9

  We moved along the field and down another trail. The forest engulfed us.

  13

  Dia Esar

  Leger Mertone

  “Can you believe this?” I asked Clever.

  The endless stone road was deserted. It meandered along dry hills up an endless gray valley and through a patchy forest broken by old boulders. It did not show me a single animal, building, or person.

  When a rider appeared around one of the tall stones in the distance, I was so startled, I hid. The man rode by, a courier it seemed, and I tried to relax. He had to be the man who’d gone ahead to deliver word of Barok’s arrival. The knowledge was comforting, but I wished I’d said hello. I always thought I would enjoy being alone, but had discovered the opposite.

  I continued on, and tried not to talk to Clever as much.

  We crested a ridge that afternoon capped by a towering thrust of rock and found beneath it a road marker that declared the border between Trace and Enhedu. I hurried us around, hoping for a view of rivers and fields but found something else entirely.

  The mountain.

  The ocean was a sight, but this monster before me put it to shame. The peak rose above shoulders of dark gray stone, and its white top and winding valleys were so enormous I could not see them all at once. Much of the mountain was shrouded in its own shadow and it wore a wide, white cloud for a hat. Eleven days, Leger had said. I had at least four more to go.

  The great peak taunted me the rest of the day until a second smaller peak appeared as we moved around the wide cone. The road snaked its way up between the pair and I had to hold my eyes closed as we started up and over. My back ached and cracked as I switched from leaning forward to leaning backward, and I open my eyes at last.

  It was as if from a dream. The land reached out before me as though a bolt of the richest green felt had been unrolled across the ocean and an artisan god had worked upon it for millennia. The road meandered down a vast arm of the mountain along the right, and to the left a second and third ridge extended out along the peninsula. Between the three arms of rock were wide rivers and more trees than could be counted or compared in a lifetime. And these trees were tall—twice, three times as tall as any I’d ever seen. Beyond all of this, the land leveled and the many rivers joined into a bright blue ribbon. It all met the horizon in a wash of colors, and the mystery of the lands beyond invited me down. Behind me was a land of the dead. I was joining the living. My heart fluttered, and I smiled. Here it was at last—my new home.

  Our pace was swift. The road swayed along the top of a sharp ridge of bright trees that were just starting to find autumn color. I slept with a view of the ocean and ate my last apple for breakfast two days later while the sun dashed the sea and the sky with yellows, purples, and oranges.

  That same morning, the forest was broken by an area where the trees were reduced to stumps. A substantial timber camp sat astride a wide river on the far side. The men who worked it carried shiny axes and saws. As we started through, one of them stepped onto the bridge to block our path. He reeked of sap and soot.

  “You lost, sweetmeat?”

  This was not Bessradi, he was not Leon, and he was certainly not Colonel Feseq. I urged Clever forward and my good horse slammed the man aside. Their voices were loud behind us as we continued down the road, but when I turned they had already given up. None of their horse could keep pace with an Akal-Tak. I had outwitted bluecoats. Who were they?

  I slept beside a stream and climbed down the last fold of the mountain’s green coat the next morning. The thick trees got thicker, and the wild, forkless path became enchanting. In most places, the trees engulfed us, and the bright sun made the tunnel shimmer. Tiny animals with bushy white tails ran up and down the trees, and the appearance of an enormous black cat had Clever scratching at the road like a bull. The cat vanished so fast I was not at all sure I had seen it.

  Our next encounter upon the road was no surprise at all. I heard the familiar squeak long before I saw the carriage, and was able to get us behind some trees before it hurried past. The driver seemed intent upon crossing the mountain in a single dash, and I worried for the horses.

  We also crossed paths that morning with the surliest-looking couple. The wife’s nose was purple and crooked, and the husband’s left hand seemed to match it. What a fight they must have had. I chose not to greet them, though they said a hello.

  The stone road gave way to a well-rutted path, and I began to tremble when the trail turned at last to reveal the most magnificent castle I had ever seen. I pulled up and took it all in.

  Gray and worn, the castle rose up off a smooth platter of stone. Every wall and tower was a marvel of treacherous design. It was nothing like the cream-colored behemoths at the capital. I felt I was standing beneath the stone head of some ancient and mystical snake that had risen up out of the shimmering green to set its fangs into some foul forest beast.

  I shivered and smiled as I slid at last from Clever’s back. If this was banishment, my prince must be wishing it had happened years ago.

  A man upon the wall made the trip down. He was a stout-looking lad with kind eyes. “Welcome to Urnedi, traveler. My name is Gernilqwa Furstundish—Gern for short, please. How can I help you?”

  “A pleasure to meet you, guardsman. Has prince Barok arrived?”

  “Well, yes,” he replied with some surprise. “Who are you?”

  What name to use? To keep mine might be dangerous. Would the colonel pursue me all the way here? The guardsman was waiting.

  Confident my prince would protect me, I offered my hand so the guard might kiss it. “I am Dia Esar, the Lady of Urnedi.”

  “Oh my,” he said. He did not know what to do with my hand, so he bowed instead and told me his very long name a second time.

  “A pleasure, indeed, Gern. Perhaps you could show me to the prince?”

  “Oh, I am sorry, Lady Dia, but he is out riding with Sahin—a bowyer who lives up north. He knows more about Enhedu than anyone. They are taking a tour of the prince’s lands.”

  “Very well then, take me to his alsman.”

  The man hesitated but bowed again and took Clever’s reins. He stepped aside and gestured for me to precede him.

  “What fine manners the men of Enhedu have,” I said with a smile.

  Gern handed Clever off to an older man and we made our way up. The interior of the castle proved as enchanting as its approach. Mysterious locked doors, an inviting hall, and so many friendly faces were all too much for me to take in at once. I made everyone tell me their names twice and almost cried with joy to learn that Enhedu said hello with a hug.

  Gern eventually led me up to a high floor and its four apartments. “The first one on the left is Barok’s. I mean yours. Ahh, he is not settled in yet. Opposite it is Leger’s room. He said he needed to rest. Perhaps we should let him sleep?”

  I stepped around him and opened the door to find Leger sitting on the edge of a thin bed beneath a small open window. An empty wine bottle lay on the floor, and he had hold of a second. A third waited on a table nearby. His thick pinky was jammed into the bottle, in an attempt to force a broken cork inside.

  I stepped into the room and closed the door on Gern.

  “Do I know you?”

  “Alsman Mertone, it is Dia. Don’t you remember me?”

  “Dia, you made it.” He tried to extend his hand, perhaps to shake mine, but his finger was still in the bottle. He looked down at it with a mixture of confusion and happiness. He pulled his pinky free and raised the bottle to drink.

  “What are you doing?” I said, snatched the bottle out of his hands, and threw it through the window. Leger was already reaching for the third, but I got to it first and flung it out the window as well. He did not react until the smash of the second bottle made him flinch.

  “You should not have done that,” he said with reeking breath and horrible eyes.

  “Where is my prince?” I shouted at him as he stood.

  His hard
look diminished, and I repeated the question.

  He stumbled back onto the bed and flexed his huge hands into the thin frame. “They are killing him.”

  “Leger, you’ve had too much to drink. No one would murder a son of Vall, least of all these people.”

  “I heard Sahin. Barok brings danger to the people here. The reeve asked Sahin to kill him. They will blame me.”

  I shook my head. My prince could not be dead. You do not escape Bessradi to die in such a beautiful place.

  “Leger, you can still save him,” I said and grabbed him by his chin. “We have to save him.”

  He did not move, and his expression did not change.

  “Leger. Leger, listen to me. You saved me. Did you know that? Your coins and your advice got me across all of Zoviya unscathed. Your story was so good a Hemari colonel gave me one of his horses.”

  “A blue hair gave you his horse? Not an Akal-Tak?”

  “A stallion no less. He thought it would get him a taste of the capital’s newest barmaid. I rode one of Bessradi’s finest horses all the way here.”

  Leger scratched at his eyes and chuckled. “Many have lost their hearts to Darmia. She would be glad to hear you are keeping up the family tradition.”

  I doubted so simple a thing as loving a barmaid was the cause of his hurts, but I left that aside. “Come with me, Leger. We have to get some life back into you.”

  He rose when I took him by the hand, and I opened the door to find that Gern had not moved. I stomped toward him.

  “You might have good manners, but you are the worst host. Show me where Leger can take a bath.”

  “A bath?”

  “Big basin, water, soap?”

  “Yes, of course,” he said and retreated around me toward my prince’s apartment. “There is one in here.”

  I advanced on him again. “I want two hot meals waiting for us in the hall, and a rider sent to find my prince.”

  “Yes, milady.”

  “Where are my prince’s swords?”

  “Swords?”

  “If you repeat my words back at me one more time, I am going to throw you out the window after the bottles of wine you fed the alsman.”

  He could not get his eyes to meet mine. “I do not think he brought any.”

  I glowered at him. “I packed those trunks. Are you calling me a liar?”

  “No, milady.”

  “Good. Then give your sword to Leger until you find them.”

  He looked ready to refuse, but Leger stepped toward him. Gern was almost Leger’s size, but if the younger man had ever been in a fight, you could not tell it from the look in his eyes.

  He surrendered the weapon and bowed as respectfully as I imagine he was capable. “Very well, milady. I will see to the meal and inquire after the swords.”

  I pulled Leger into my prince’s room and shut the door. The space was a mess. The trunks were half-emptied onto the floor, and the bed was a shamble. I did not see the basin right away but spotted the greenish-blue pipe running along the fireplace chimney. I lifted the seat of the wide bench beside it and ran a bath in the tub it concealed.

  “The water is cold but that might do you some good. Get undressed and get in.”

  “With you in the room?”

  “It will be nothing a girl from Dagoda hasn’t seen. Besides, if ever there was a man who needed a proper bath, it is you.”

  “You were Barok’s washerwoman?”

  “In.”

  He stripped off the putrid remains of his uniform and must have expected the water to be colder than it was because he did not make a sound as he sat himself down. It might also be dreams of a Dagoda girl that kept him quiet. I hesitated. My prince would be furious—beyond furious. I set the thought aside. Leger was the only person in Enhedu I could trust and I needed him sober.

  I dipped a cloth into the water and set to work. His heavy muscles were knotted and tense. I worked them out with deep strokes and the occasional digging press of my palms. My damaged, angry hands got angrier, but I ignored them.

  Leger leaned into the basin as all men did when skilled hands moved across their body, but he did not make any of the usual noises.

  “I knew there was a gentleman hiding beneath that wine bottle,” I said. He chuckled but finally relaxed and let out a moan when I set to work on the back of his neck and shoulders.

  It took some time, but when I was finished, he smelled and looked like a man. I hoped he felt more like one, too. I handed him a dry towel.

  “Dry yourself well. The soap is strong and will itch if you leave any of it on your skin. Do you have fresh clothes?”

  It took him a moment. “In my pack.”

  I found the bundle at the foot of his bed and was met by Gern and another man in the hallway. Gern had all three of my prince’s swords.

  “I apologize for the confusion, my lady. They were in the great hall.”

  “My prince rode into the wilderness unarmed?”

  “No, milady. He is wearing one of ours.” Both men were pale. If they were afraid of me, what must they think of my prince?

  Gern handed me the swords and they retreated back down. When I brought everything in, Leger was standing behind the towel. I almost laughed at him, but the situation prevented me.

  “Are you feeling better?”

  “Much.”

  “Good,” I said and laid the swords and pack on the bed. “Get dressed.”

  I waited in the hallway. The stone space was reassuring, but I noticed the smell of a dirty privy at the end of the hallway. That would have to change.

  Leger emerged in a wrinkled tan tunica and dark brown breaches that smelled like the carriage they had rode on. His attire, dark scruff, and mangled wet hair did not speak of a great man, but the sword he wore would give any man pause. It was thick and it gleamed. He also had hold of the lightest of the three blades.

  “Put it on,” he said and handed it to me.

  It smelled of new leather and oil. The belt wrapped around me twice but when I felt the weight at my side, the squeeze felt good.

  He did not need to ask if I had ever used or worn one. He took my hand softly in his, set it on the end of the sword, and said, “Let your hand rest on it as much as you can and keep the tip behind you. Don’t let it bang into things and try not to look down or back at it. If they think you can use it, you might not have to. Do you know where the prince is now?”

  “Gern said he is taking a tour with the bowyer. I had a rider sent out to retrieve them. He is wearing one of the local’s swords.”

  “That is good news.”

  “Is my prince that good with a sword?”

  “Yes. To kill him while he is armed, Sahin would need a great deal of help or time enough to plan a very good trap.”

  “Then we will hope. Will you be ready to ride after the meal?”

  He nodded, and we made our way to the great hall.

  14

  Arilas Barok Yentif

  Sahin’s tour included trees. All around us that was all I could see. He seemed to have a destination in mind, however, so I let him lead on. We reached a wide river spanned by a tall arch of old stone, but I could no longer be shocked by anything Enhedu had to offer.

  On the far side were rolling hills thick with the tallest trees I’d ever seen.

  Sahin pulled up. “Do you race?” he asked.

  “Horses?”

  “Yes. This is an excellent racing road. During each year’s spring festival, we hold races along it. There is a clearing with a fence post at the far end. The first to touch the post wins.” There was a wild look in Sahin’s eye. He wanted to best me, same as everyone else. Fool.

  My horse was pathetic but the stronger of the pair. He and I had still not worked out the subtleties of communication, but when I slackened the reins, pulled my heels in tight, and let out a sharp yawp, he hopped straight into a gallop. Sahin was forced to wheel his mount around to avoid a collision. By the time he started after me, I had crested
the first small hill and was thundering down the far side.

  The trail narrowed again, and menacing trees reached their branches ever closer. I steered around and ducked them, laughing at my advantage in the spontaneous contest. A small stream appeared, and several felled trees choked the trail beyond. I grinned at the challenge and prepared to guide the horse across. We splashed into the stream and onto the far bank with good speed. The animal was a jumper, I could tell, and we cleared the first log with a good bound that carried easily into a second. Being airborne made my heart pound, and I let out another great yawp.

  My mount hesitated, and I spotted too late the thick branch stuck out across the trail. I pulled up hard, but the horse shied, slid, and pitched wildly left. I was launched out of the saddle and crashed into a tall shrub. I was upside-down when Sahin bounded over the logs and danced his horse around the treacherous branch.

  He mimicked my yawp as he passed, and I tumbled out of the shrub.

  My advantage gone, I ignored the sap on my hands and neck and raced to retrieve my mount. He shied again, but I could handle a frightened animal. I took firm hold of the reins, stepped in quickly, and leapt up onto his back before he could dance away. He reared, but I coaxed him left and got him to turn in a circle until he calmed. Sahin disappeared down the trail as my horse tore around to face him. I kicked the creature, and he obeyed. Moments later I was back in form, but Sahin had a good lead, and the forest thickened yet again. I could not catch him. The bowyer knew the trail, and my inexperience in the forest had been proven.

  He crested a small ridge, and I lost sight of him altogether. I slowed, spat, and cursed. I would have continued my rant, but the place—the trees. They were like none I had ever seen. A sort of evergreen, but each was massive, larger than Urnedi Manor, twisted and red as though angry hands had squeezed and shaken it. The space beneath them was dark and open.